Kangaroos. Endless Beaches. Castlemaine XXXX. Sheilas. Koalas. Poisonous Snakes. VB. Shrimp on the Barbie. Steve Crikey! Irwin. The Great Barrier Reef. Surf breaks. Australia conjures up all those images and I was able to experience the continent Down Under over seven weeks from October to December.
After I left wintry New Zealand, I headed to the east coast of a country that was already seemingly in summer. Australia's East Coast is known the world over for its mixture of beautiful unspoiled rainforests, sandy beaches, and just off the coast of Queensland (the north eastern state) lies one of the greatest biological creatures in the world: the Great Barrier Reef. Four parts of my trip really stand out for me: Cairns' varied surrounding attractions, sailing for 3 days in the Whitsundays, 4-wheel driving and camping for 3 days on Fraser Island, and simply chilling out on off-the-beaten path places.
Cairns is a backpacker central point that attracts people the world over. Its lagoon is a perfect way to while away the day, while every night the bars and clubs are packed. Of course, you meet a lot of people and then go discovering the wonders of Queensland that surround the city with them. I swam in the waterfalls of the Tableton Atherlands, rode a horse on the beach of Cape Tribulation, spotted crocodiles in the Daintree River, chilled out in Port Douglas, swam with turtles in the Great Barrier Reef, hiked through the Daintree Rainforest, and hung out on the backpacker island of Fitzroy.
The Whitsundays are a group of islands that are immensely beautiful. Whitehaven Beach is one of the most beautiful beaches anywhere in the world with crystal-clear waters that gleam turquoise in the sun and sand that is blindingly white. The way to explore these islands is from a sailboat and so fourteen of us found ourselves for 3 days lounging, eating, sleeping, and diving from the Kiana. Each night we would set anchor in a different bay and watch the moon rise. Each morning we would get up early to get in a morning dive. Also, all our food was prepared for us so that we really did not have to lift a finger. I had never spent so much time on a boat and absolutely loved it. It helped that we had an excellent group of people who got along so well. As we made our way further down the coast, we of course met up at different spots.
Fraser Island is an unspoiled island inhabited by wild dingoes. Here, getting in a 4WD and driving around the island through forests and on the beaches is the best way to see it. At night, the 8 of us would set up camp and cook our own food on a grill. We of course made sure to bring plenty of beers and music so that we could toast our hard work of hiking, lying on beaches, swimming in lakes, watching turtles and sharks, seeing the sun set from Indian Head, spotting dingoes, and avoiding snakes! Everyone in the group had a chance to drive at some point - for me it was not only fun fishtailing through the soft sand but also driving on the other side of the car, shifting with my left instead of my right hand. Our group again got along really well - laughing continuously - that we all continued to meet up as we continued south.
While a lot of the east coast is highly developed and known the world over (think Sunshine Coast's Noosa or the Gold Coast's Surfers Paradise), there are places that are still unspoiled. My favorites of those included Mission Beach, Magnetic Island, A Town Called 1770, and (while a bit more developed) Byron Bay with its hinterland sister city of Nimbin. In Mission Beach and Magnetic Island, I was able to relax in the treetops of the rainforest and on a beach, respectively. 1770 is an intriguing destination where Captain Cook first made landfall in, guess what, 1770. It is a quiet fishing village with endless beaches and great hiking. Byron Bay has always been a counter-cultural focal point. While there, I stayed at the Arts Factory - a place started in the 1970's by draft-dodging Americans and has grown into a must-stay for backpackers all around the world. I also had some high times at Nimbin which hosts the annual Mardi Grass celebration.
Monday, December 22, 2003
Sunday, October 19, 2003
Sweet As! - New Zealand
Soaring mountains with snowcapped peaks. Rolling green hills with sheep minding their newborn lambs. Aqua fiords surrounded by steep cliffs. Powder blue ice peeking through centuries-old glaciers. Waves crashing on rough-hewn coasts. The scenery in New Zealand is stunning and dramatic. It is often referred to as God's Own Country and was where Peter Jackson filmed all three of the Lord of the Rings movies. From the sun-dappled beaches of the Bay of Islands to the snow-covered Remarkables of the South Islands, I traveled through this amazing country over the past six weeks.
The North Island and South Island are not only two distinct land-masses, their cultures and mindsets of the people are varied as well. Both have staggeringly beautiful geographical features of stunning mountains, volcanoes, thermal parks, and many earthquakes as the country lies on a fault line. You would also have difficulty meeting friendlier people than the Kiwis. One of the major differences come in the influence of the Maori in the North. Another difference is in the size of the cities. And the South has a more laid-back feeling to it.
The Maori, of Polynesian descent, arrived from Hawaiki (Raiatea in modern day French Polynesia) to find a country populated only by animals that flew or drifted over here. This unspoiled country far away from other land masses had developed its own unusual plants and animals. These were no mammals until the Pakeha - white people - introduced them (to disastrous results mainly). Most people know about the Maori through the intimidating haka the New Zealand rugby team, the All Blacks, perform before playing their foes. Maori culture of course goes deeper than that, and I was fortunate to visit several Maori marae and learn about their culture. An excellent movie, Whale Rider, helps explain much of their culture. Keri Hulme's novel The Bone People also focuses on New Zealand and the Maoris. For listening to Kiwi music, check out the excellent chilled out beats by Salmonella Dub, Rhombus, TrinityRoots, and Bic Runga.
In New Zealand, 4 million people reside (and I was told 40 million sheep). However, the distribution is focused on the North Island. While North Island city Auckland has over 1.2 million residents, only 800,000 live in the entire larger South Island. Queenstown, one of my favorite places in the country, is located in the South Island and has full time residents of only 10,000. The South Island's laid-back culture comes through when admiring the scenery, whether it is exploring the fiord at Milford Sound or crossing the Southern Alps in a train. It also shines through in drinking a Speight's ("Pride of the South") with a local.
With that introduction, you may think that all I did in New Zealand was blithely go around and take pics of the beautiful sights. Actually, if I were to come up with one word to describe this country, it would have to be: ADRENALINE. When you are surrounded by verdant hills and craggy mountain tops, at some point Kiwis apparently started thinking, "How do I get down these as quick as possible?" Therefore, I soon found myself Zorbing and lugeing in Rotorua. A Zorb is a big plastic ball that you strap yourself in and roll down a hill in. A luge is a plastic sled that you sit on and hope it doesn't turn over while hurtling down the hill. In the Bay of Islands, I hiked up a sand dune and boogie boarded down. It was on ski fields Coronet Peak and the Remarks near Queenstown ("Adventure Capital of the World") that I skied down black runs. I also learned how to snowboard there. Of course, going up the hills and mountains is also exciting. One day, I was wearing talons and using a pick axe to climb my way up, over and through the Franz Josef Glacier. I also hiked through Mordor (a.k.a. Tongariro National Park) and Abel Tasman National Park, which reminded us of Thailand.
It is not only on hills and mountains where you can get some adrenaline boosts. The water provides a lot of fun as well. Imagine going through the pitch black Waitomo caves in an inner tube looking at glow worms. Or getting on a speed boat in the Bay of Islands and getting airborne while on the way to check out the Hole in the Rock. In the Bay of Islands, I spent a lot of time on the water: a full day sailing and an afternoon fishing where I reeled in snapper, barracuda, and a John Dory. The ultimate adrenaline rushes came from throwing myself off a perfectly fine bridge and a perfectly sound airplane. In Queenstown, I bungy jumped 43 meters/134 feet off the Kawarau Bridge, where bungy jumping got its start. In Taupo, I sky dived out of an airplane at 12,000 feet reaching speeds of 200 kmh/120 mph. Both those experiences had me living off the adrenaline buzz for days.
The North Island and South Island are not only two distinct land-masses, their cultures and mindsets of the people are varied as well. Both have staggeringly beautiful geographical features of stunning mountains, volcanoes, thermal parks, and many earthquakes as the country lies on a fault line. You would also have difficulty meeting friendlier people than the Kiwis. One of the major differences come in the influence of the Maori in the North. Another difference is in the size of the cities. And the South has a more laid-back feeling to it.
The Maori, of Polynesian descent, arrived from Hawaiki (Raiatea in modern day French Polynesia) to find a country populated only by animals that flew or drifted over here. This unspoiled country far away from other land masses had developed its own unusual plants and animals. These were no mammals until the Pakeha - white people - introduced them (to disastrous results mainly). Most people know about the Maori through the intimidating haka the New Zealand rugby team, the All Blacks, perform before playing their foes. Maori culture of course goes deeper than that, and I was fortunate to visit several Maori marae and learn about their culture. An excellent movie, Whale Rider, helps explain much of their culture. Keri Hulme's novel The Bone People also focuses on New Zealand and the Maoris. For listening to Kiwi music, check out the excellent chilled out beats by Salmonella Dub, Rhombus, TrinityRoots, and Bic Runga.
In New Zealand, 4 million people reside (and I was told 40 million sheep). However, the distribution is focused on the North Island. While North Island city Auckland has over 1.2 million residents, only 800,000 live in the entire larger South Island. Queenstown, one of my favorite places in the country, is located in the South Island and has full time residents of only 10,000. The South Island's laid-back culture comes through when admiring the scenery, whether it is exploring the fiord at Milford Sound or crossing the Southern Alps in a train. It also shines through in drinking a Speight's ("Pride of the South") with a local.
With that introduction, you may think that all I did in New Zealand was blithely go around and take pics of the beautiful sights. Actually, if I were to come up with one word to describe this country, it would have to be: ADRENALINE. When you are surrounded by verdant hills and craggy mountain tops, at some point Kiwis apparently started thinking, "How do I get down these as quick as possible?" Therefore, I soon found myself Zorbing and lugeing in Rotorua. A Zorb is a big plastic ball that you strap yourself in and roll down a hill in. A luge is a plastic sled that you sit on and hope it doesn't turn over while hurtling down the hill. In the Bay of Islands, I hiked up a sand dune and boogie boarded down. It was on ski fields Coronet Peak and the Remarks near Queenstown ("Adventure Capital of the World") that I skied down black runs. I also learned how to snowboard there. Of course, going up the hills and mountains is also exciting. One day, I was wearing talons and using a pick axe to climb my way up, over and through the Franz Josef Glacier. I also hiked through Mordor (a.k.a. Tongariro National Park) and Abel Tasman National Park, which reminded us of Thailand.
It is not only on hills and mountains where you can get some adrenaline boosts. The water provides a lot of fun as well. Imagine going through the pitch black Waitomo caves in an inner tube looking at glow worms. Or getting on a speed boat in the Bay of Islands and getting airborne while on the way to check out the Hole in the Rock. In the Bay of Islands, I spent a lot of time on the water: a full day sailing and an afternoon fishing where I reeled in snapper, barracuda, and a John Dory. The ultimate adrenaline rushes came from throwing myself off a perfectly fine bridge and a perfectly sound airplane. In Queenstown, I bungy jumped 43 meters/134 feet off the Kawarau Bridge, where bungy jumping got its start. In Taupo, I sky dived out of an airplane at 12,000 feet reaching speeds of 200 kmh/120 mph. Both those experiences had me living off the adrenaline buzz for days.
Sunday, September 14, 2003
Tales of the South Pacific
The dark blue to purple South Pacific gives way to aqua and turquoise waters of lagoons broken by a white line of waves breaking on reefs. In the middle of the clear waters of the lagoon are islands with green mountains rising high, often encircled by clouds. The beaches are white and yellow sands, with swaying palm trees. These were the images over the past month as I spent time in Tahiti, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Bora Bora, Maupiti, and Rarotonga.
Each of the islands is more beautiful than the next and each have their own character. Tahiti, and especially its capital Papeete, is the bustling center of French Polynesia. Moorea, just half an hour away by boat, is more relaxed than Tahiti. Raiatea is the ancient Hawaiki, which is sacred to Polynesians everywhere (including Hawaiians and the Maori of New Zealand). Bora Bora is deservedly famous for its beautiful lagoon, the best of all the islands. Maupiti is a tiny island that is very undeveloped and is covered with beautiful flowers. While Polynesia has a heavy French influence, Rarotonga has a decidedly English and Kiwi bent.
On these islands, I was able to hike to ancient marae, bike around the islands, and explore the interiors. However, spending time in the lagoons is what is really the best about the islands. From boating in outrigger canoes to swimming underwater, I explored each of the lagoons. I was able to see mulit-colored corals and numerous tropical fish. The highlights included swimming with black-tipped sharks and sting rays.
Several islands are very developed like Tahiti and Bora Bora. In fact, Bora Bora has three more resorts slated to be completed in the next years by the Intercontinental, Ritz-Carlton, and the Four Seasons. Each of these hotels will have more than 100 bungalows each. Some islands, like Huahine and Maupiti are very undeveloped, with Maupiti having taken a "no hotels" policy and having only simple pensions. I preferred the latter.
Of all the islands, though, Huahine was my favorite. Here, life is on a slower pace and I was able to meet many of the people who live on the island. I rented a bike and drove around the island watching families gather for spirited games of petanque and being invited to test my jumping abilities on a bike course laid out by local kids. I heard a church before I came to it. It was a Sunday and rising from the attendants beautiful Polynesian hymns were being sung. I slowed to a halt and just listened. Then, as the service was ending, all the mainly older women came out in brightly covered pareos. In Huahine and elsewhere I mainly ate at roulottes, where most of the locals gathered every night to eat fresh seafood. My favorite was poisson cru: raw tuna prepared in lime juice, coconut milk, and fresh vegetables.
I also got a lasting reminder of my trip to Polynesia in Huahine. I found out that most wood-carved tikis are actually made in Indonesia or China, and decided I wanted a piece of art that was actually made in Polynesia. Polynesians invented the tattoo years ago. George, the tattooist, has half his body covered in tattoos: representing his Polynesian past. His un-tattooed side represents the more Western future. Two days after I got the tattoo, I ran into George at a local breakfast spot and his friends admired his handiwork: the tiki on my ankle.
Each of the islands is more beautiful than the next and each have their own character. Tahiti, and especially its capital Papeete, is the bustling center of French Polynesia. Moorea, just half an hour away by boat, is more relaxed than Tahiti. Raiatea is the ancient Hawaiki, which is sacred to Polynesians everywhere (including Hawaiians and the Maori of New Zealand). Bora Bora is deservedly famous for its beautiful lagoon, the best of all the islands. Maupiti is a tiny island that is very undeveloped and is covered with beautiful flowers. While Polynesia has a heavy French influence, Rarotonga has a decidedly English and Kiwi bent.
On these islands, I was able to hike to ancient marae, bike around the islands, and explore the interiors. However, spending time in the lagoons is what is really the best about the islands. From boating in outrigger canoes to swimming underwater, I explored each of the lagoons. I was able to see mulit-colored corals and numerous tropical fish. The highlights included swimming with black-tipped sharks and sting rays.
Several islands are very developed like Tahiti and Bora Bora. In fact, Bora Bora has three more resorts slated to be completed in the next years by the Intercontinental, Ritz-Carlton, and the Four Seasons. Each of these hotels will have more than 100 bungalows each. Some islands, like Huahine and Maupiti are very undeveloped, with Maupiti having taken a "no hotels" policy and having only simple pensions. I preferred the latter.
Of all the islands, though, Huahine was my favorite. Here, life is on a slower pace and I was able to meet many of the people who live on the island. I rented a bike and drove around the island watching families gather for spirited games of petanque and being invited to test my jumping abilities on a bike course laid out by local kids. I heard a church before I came to it. It was a Sunday and rising from the attendants beautiful Polynesian hymns were being sung. I slowed to a halt and just listened. Then, as the service was ending, all the mainly older women came out in brightly covered pareos. In Huahine and elsewhere I mainly ate at roulottes, where most of the locals gathered every night to eat fresh seafood. My favorite was poisson cru: raw tuna prepared in lime juice, coconut milk, and fresh vegetables.
I also got a lasting reminder of my trip to Polynesia in Huahine. I found out that most wood-carved tikis are actually made in Indonesia or China, and decided I wanted a piece of art that was actually made in Polynesia. Polynesians invented the tattoo years ago. George, the tattooist, has half his body covered in tattoos: representing his Polynesian past. His un-tattooed side represents the more Western future. Two days after I got the tattoo, I ran into George at a local breakfast spot and his friends admired his handiwork: the tiki on my ankle.
Monday, July 14, 2003
Paulistas and Cariocas
Returning to Brazil from Bolivia, I once again arrived in Sao Paulo. This city, the New York of Brazil, is its country's financial center packed with exclusive clubs, trendy bars, and the latest restaurants. As in any large city (and Sao Paulo is the second largest city in the world), there is a distinct difference of classes. Everyone who can afford it moves around by tinted windowed car which are parked by valets. While stopped at red lights, people ranging from little kids to old men will try to sell everything from the ubiquitous Chiclets to toys to cell phone charges. Meanwhile, teenagers will juggle tennis balls hoping to receive a few reals.
Other places in the Southeast of Brazil which I visited included the old colonial towns in Minas Gerais and along the coast. In Minas Gerais, old mining towns including Tiradentes and Ouro Preto developed in the 17th and 18th Centuries. After the mines dried up, these towns were virtually abandoned. However, that helped preserve their historical nature. Hilly streets covered by cobblestone lead to churches, stately mansions, and old government buildings. From the mines in the hills, the gold that was discovered had to be brought to the ports in order to ship back to Europe. This old Caminho de Ouro (Gold Trail), led to the colonial port of Paraty. Surrounded by craggy rocks, soaring green mountains, and beautiful beaches, this old town is also preserved. It is now a tourist destination for Paulistas, Cariocas, and international travelers. The town is dotted with pousadas (small hotels), restaurants, and craft shops, plus in the bay are countless islands, beaches, and boats to take you to them all.
Rio de Janeiro, la Cidade Maravhilosa, is a truly marvelous city which has a near-perfect combination of natural beauty, magnificent beaches (with girls in extremely small bikinis), nightlife, and city atmosphere. Relaxing on two of the most famous beaches in the world, Copacabana and Ipanema, overlooked by Christ the Redeemer on top of Corcavado, while Sugarloaf Mountain (Pao de Acucar) provided the classic sunset and nighttime view over the city was an excellent way to spend the days during my last week in Brazil. Of course, no visit to Rio is complete without catching a futbol game at Maracana - in which I saw Bahia lose to Fluminense. The nightlife in Rio is legendary. While here, friends made sure to take me out to trendy restaurants, bars, and clubs, plus some old-school favorites to show me how Cariocas live.
Brazil has a lot of problems, as do many developing countries in South America. Its GDP per capita of $7,400 ranks right around the world average and there is a vast difference between the poor living in favelas and the more well off living in guarded, gated apartments of Rio and Sao Paulo. However, trying to sum up Brazil is very difficult. The country is comprised of disparate groups of people and cultures. From caboclos in Amazonia to blonde-haired girls in Floripa. African-influenced food and song in Bahia to forro akin to country music even further north. Rio's beach culture to Sao Paulo's financial prowess. However, Brazilians have many similarities. To me, it seemed that there is an unflagging optimism about the future and a love of life as seen in everything from an enjoyment of sports, attacking a churrascario with gusto, drinking caiparinhas, to dancing to the wee hours of the morning. Lula, the recently elected populist president, will guide Brazil over the next years and Brazil-watchers both internally and externally are waiting to see how his bold promises will pan out.
Other places in the Southeast of Brazil which I visited included the old colonial towns in Minas Gerais and along the coast. In Minas Gerais, old mining towns including Tiradentes and Ouro Preto developed in the 17th and 18th Centuries. After the mines dried up, these towns were virtually abandoned. However, that helped preserve their historical nature. Hilly streets covered by cobblestone lead to churches, stately mansions, and old government buildings. From the mines in the hills, the gold that was discovered had to be brought to the ports in order to ship back to Europe. This old Caminho de Ouro (Gold Trail), led to the colonial port of Paraty. Surrounded by craggy rocks, soaring green mountains, and beautiful beaches, this old town is also preserved. It is now a tourist destination for Paulistas, Cariocas, and international travelers. The town is dotted with pousadas (small hotels), restaurants, and craft shops, plus in the bay are countless islands, beaches, and boats to take you to them all.
Rio de Janeiro, la Cidade Maravhilosa, is a truly marvelous city which has a near-perfect combination of natural beauty, magnificent beaches (with girls in extremely small bikinis), nightlife, and city atmosphere. Relaxing on two of the most famous beaches in the world, Copacabana and Ipanema, overlooked by Christ the Redeemer on top of Corcavado, while Sugarloaf Mountain (Pao de Acucar) provided the classic sunset and nighttime view over the city was an excellent way to spend the days during my last week in Brazil. Of course, no visit to Rio is complete without catching a futbol game at Maracana - in which I saw Bahia lose to Fluminense. The nightlife in Rio is legendary. While here, friends made sure to take me out to trendy restaurants, bars, and clubs, plus some old-school favorites to show me how Cariocas live.
Brazil has a lot of problems, as do many developing countries in South America. Its GDP per capita of $7,400 ranks right around the world average and there is a vast difference between the poor living in favelas and the more well off living in guarded, gated apartments of Rio and Sao Paulo. However, trying to sum up Brazil is very difficult. The country is comprised of disparate groups of people and cultures. From caboclos in Amazonia to blonde-haired girls in Floripa. African-influenced food and song in Bahia to forro akin to country music even further north. Rio's beach culture to Sao Paulo's financial prowess. However, Brazilians have many similarities. To me, it seemed that there is an unflagging optimism about the future and a love of life as seen in everything from an enjoyment of sports, attacking a churrascario with gusto, drinking caiparinhas, to dancing to the wee hours of the morning. Lula, the recently elected populist president, will guide Brazil over the next years and Brazil-watchers both internally and externally are waiting to see how his bold promises will pan out.
Friday, June 27, 2003
Crossing the border
Early morning. 5 a.m. The Triple Frontier of Brazil-Colombia-Peru on the Rio Amazonas.
It is still dark when the boat slips into the docks of the village of Santa Rosa, on the banks of the river in Peru. We clamber out groggily to the officia de la policia. After handing over my documents, I am soon handed back my passport and think, ''That was easy.'' I get back on board.
Ten minutes later. ''Raimundo!'' yells out the customs officer.
After noone says anything I respond, Si senor?
''Migracion.''
I get back out the boat and am guided to another office. A candle provides the only light.
The officer looks at my passport, looks at me, and asks (in Spanish), ''Where`s your Brazil stamp?''
No stamp Brazil, I respond in my broken Spanish.
''You need a Brazil exit stamp to exit Brazil and a Peru entrance stamp to enter Peru.''
Stamp here for Brazil for Peru? I babble unintelligibly.
''No, you should have gotten a stamp in Brazil. You need to go back there and then I can let you in Peru.``
No Iquitos boat go?
''No.''
No?
The officer sighs. The candle flickers. A mosquito buzzes.
He looks at me again and states, in English, ''Twenty dollars.''
Que? I respond in Spanish.
''Twenty dollars and you go to Iquitos today.''
Oh. OH! (I get it.)
I take out $20, hand it over and a big smile crosses the officer`s face. He puts the dollars in a drawer, stamps my passport, wishes me a good stay in Peru, asks where I`m going (commenting on the beauty of Machu Picchu) and wishes me, ''Good voyages!'' in English.
I step outside. A rooster crows. The sun is rising.
It is still dark when the boat slips into the docks of the village of Santa Rosa, on the banks of the river in Peru. We clamber out groggily to the officia de la policia. After handing over my documents, I am soon handed back my passport and think, ''That was easy.'' I get back on board.
Ten minutes later. ''Raimundo!'' yells out the customs officer.
After noone says anything I respond, Si senor?
''Migracion.''
I get back out the boat and am guided to another office. A candle provides the only light.
The officer looks at my passport, looks at me, and asks (in Spanish), ''Where`s your Brazil stamp?''
No stamp Brazil, I respond in my broken Spanish.
''You need a Brazil exit stamp to exit Brazil and a Peru entrance stamp to enter Peru.''
Stamp here for Brazil for Peru? I babble unintelligibly.
''No, you should have gotten a stamp in Brazil. You need to go back there and then I can let you in Peru.``
No Iquitos boat go?
''No.''
No?
The officer sighs. The candle flickers. A mosquito buzzes.
He looks at me again and states, in English, ''Twenty dollars.''
Que? I respond in Spanish.
''Twenty dollars and you go to Iquitos today.''
Oh. OH! (I get it.)
I take out $20, hand it over and a big smile crosses the officer`s face. He puts the dollars in a drawer, stamps my passport, wishes me a good stay in Peru, asks where I`m going (commenting on the beauty of Machu Picchu) and wishes me, ''Good voyages!'' in English.
I step outside. A rooster crows. The sun is rising.
Amazonian and Andean Adventures
Leaving Brazilian beaches reluctantly behind, I headed to a place whose very name conjures up images of jungles and wildlife. The Amazon. Still a vastly undiscovered place with unidentified animal species, uncharted rivers, and unknown plants. Some 120 kilometers south from the Triple Frontier of Brazil, Colombia, and Peru, on a tributary to the Rio Amazonas, I would explore the jungle.
First I took a taxi-boat to a small town, where I waited until there were 5 other people who also wanted to go further to another even smaller town. After a long wait, there were 6 of us who were finally on our way. There, I needed to hire another boat. I had been given the name of Claudio Paixao. After 15 minutes of searching, I found Paixao on the docks. He promptly pulled out a bottle of cachaca and said we should do a couple shots together before setting off. Finally, seven hours after I had set out that morning, I arrived at a simple jungle lodge next to an Indian village.
Canoeing through flooded forests, trekking through the jungle on terra firma, watching grey and pink dolphins cavort in the river, seeing numerous tropical birds, fishing for piranha, and observing traditional Indian ceremonies I learned about the Amazon. What was truly interesting here was that I was the only tourist. The others there included a film crew from Bogota that was making a documentary to promote Colombia tourism (two words you don't often see together); two ornithologists, one from the US and one from Brazil, who were capturing beautifully colored birds that they believed to be new species; and another scientist who was gathering the many kinds of spiders and insects prevalent in this part of the jungle. All of them let me tag along and taught me an immense amount about the jungle.
Before exploring the jungle, I spent time in cities along the Amazon, including Manaus and Leticia (Colombia). Manaus is a port city, however it is 1500km up the Amazon. Leticia, 1500km further upriver is laidback, many travelers pass through, and the people are extremely friendly. Returning to Leticia from the jungle, I crossed into Peru by boat up the Amazon. Five hundred kilometers further upriver, I made it to Iquitos, another port city. It´s a great travelers´ hangout and there was able to sample some of the local nightlife with two Peruvians I had met, including lots of cervezas and pisco sours (pretty much the Peruvian national drink).
From there, I headed to Lima which allowed me to get oriented to Peru. The town is unfortunately very polluted, a perpetual smog covering the city. However, there are some good museums which give you a better understanding of the many pre-Incan civilizations, interesting historic churches, and it has a good nightlife. I went out with two Americans I had met until about 3 a.m. in a pena featuring traditional Peruvian music and dancing (cervezas and pisco sours figured in again). A candidate for national food would have to be ceviche, of which I was sure to have my share. If you have never had ceviche: raw fish marinated in a lime and chili combination served with sweet potatoes and toasted corn.
I next made it to Cuzco, in the Andes. It was winter there so crisp clear skies, sunny weather, but as the sun sets it gets extremely cold. For the first time in a long while, I was cold, wearing sweaters, alpaca wool hats, NorthFace jackets, and thick socks. The city is always celebrating something, there is a great sense of history, the surrounding scenery is beautiful, lots of friendly people, and there's an amazing amount to do - all of which makes it difficult to leave. I spent an amazing time in and around this city.
Cuzco was the center of the universe according to the Incas and numerous Inca ruins surround the city dating back to the 15th Century and before. While visiting Inca ruins in the Sacred Valley and around Cuzco such as Pisaq, Ollantaytambo, and Sachsaywama, and small towns perched high in the Andes such as Chinchero, I learned about the Quecha and Inca cultures. Hiking up steep ancient staircases can take a toll on your lungs in high altitude, but chewing on some coca leafs usually helps adjust to the altitude (and as many shirts proclaim, the coca leaf is not a drug!).
The most impressive part of staying here, though, was hiking the Inca Trail and seeing Machu Picchu. Unknown to the Spaniards who destroyed everything in their path, these ruins were lost to the jungles and were not rediscovered until the early 20th Century. The best way to appreciate them is to hike through the Andes over the Inca Trail (I went with SAS Travel who I would recommend if you're thinking of going). It tests your fitness, stamina, and lungs due to the high altitude. The Trail crosses beautiful mountain scenery, passing orchids and other unique Andean plants and animals along the way. Passing ruins along the way, you finally end up at a sungate, through which you can see snow-capped mountains in the distance with Machu Picchu laid out below you. These ruins, in a spectacular setting perfectly aligned with the summer and winter solstice sunrises, were perhaps the most sacred to the Incas. Terraced agricultural fields, crumbling ruins, grazing llamas and alpacas, and cloud-circled mountains rising up behind the complex create a truly mystical setting.
Returning to Cuzco, I ran into a friend from New York I had not seen in a couple years. The world´s small. I took a nine hour train trip through stunning countryside with Andean peaks covered with snow as weathered farmers tended fields and shepherded their flocks of sheep, llamas, and alpacas. Brightly clad women wearing incongruous bowler hats with babies tied behind their backs. Small stands selling fruits and woollen clothing at cities where the train stopped.
The train ended in Puno, perched on the edge of Lake Titicaca. This lake is the highest navigable lake in the world, with part of the lake Peru's and the eastern part Bolivia's. I crossed over to the laid-back village of Copacabana on the Bolivian side. First, 18 people (including me) piled into a minivan for 2 hours. Then, I hopped into a tuk-tuk and was biked to the border. Checking in at Peruvian and Bolivian immigration was straightforward and soon was on the final leg of the journey - another minivan.
In Copacabana, met quite a few people from all over the world. As it turned out, two travelers from London and I would spend the next several days together exploring parts of Bolivia. Near Copacabana is Isla del Sol, an island that has featured in both pre-Inca and Inca history. For the Incas, this was the island where their empire mythologically started. Hiking over undulating terrain from one end to the other allows you to get brilliant 360 degree views over the entire surrounding area. It's surrounded by azure waters and in the distance, the Cordillera Real mountain range seemingly floats above the water.
From Copacabana, we took a bus to La Paz. Approaching the city, you suddenly plunge over the edge of a crater down steep streets into a bustling city punctuated by many colorful markets. Overlooking the city is the majestic snow-capped Illimani. From here, I explored the pre-Inca ruins of Tiwanaku and spent time in the city haggling over the many things for sale from the ubiquitous alpaca wool products to concoctions in the Witches Market - I had to pass on the llama fetus a witch tried to sell me. Also spent time in the numerous museums (my favorite: the Museo de la Coca) and churches, but the best part of hanging out in La Paz is meeting people and exploring the various streets.
Throughout Colombia, Peru, and Bolivia, I met lots of local friendly people and the usual assortment of world travelers from Australia, Canada, England, Ireland, and Israel. I also found out where the Americans have been hiding - Peru. After seeing virtually none over the past six months, suddenly from Lima to Cuzco, I met American college students on summer break who had been studying or volunteering abroad, world travelers, Gringo Trail travelers, and tourists from Atlanta, New York, San Francisco, and everywhere in between.
First I took a taxi-boat to a small town, where I waited until there were 5 other people who also wanted to go further to another even smaller town. After a long wait, there were 6 of us who were finally on our way. There, I needed to hire another boat. I had been given the name of Claudio Paixao. After 15 minutes of searching, I found Paixao on the docks. He promptly pulled out a bottle of cachaca and said we should do a couple shots together before setting off. Finally, seven hours after I had set out that morning, I arrived at a simple jungle lodge next to an Indian village.
Canoeing through flooded forests, trekking through the jungle on terra firma, watching grey and pink dolphins cavort in the river, seeing numerous tropical birds, fishing for piranha, and observing traditional Indian ceremonies I learned about the Amazon. What was truly interesting here was that I was the only tourist. The others there included a film crew from Bogota that was making a documentary to promote Colombia tourism (two words you don't often see together); two ornithologists, one from the US and one from Brazil, who were capturing beautifully colored birds that they believed to be new species; and another scientist who was gathering the many kinds of spiders and insects prevalent in this part of the jungle. All of them let me tag along and taught me an immense amount about the jungle.
Before exploring the jungle, I spent time in cities along the Amazon, including Manaus and Leticia (Colombia). Manaus is a port city, however it is 1500km up the Amazon. Leticia, 1500km further upriver is laidback, many travelers pass through, and the people are extremely friendly. Returning to Leticia from the jungle, I crossed into Peru by boat up the Amazon. Five hundred kilometers further upriver, I made it to Iquitos, another port city. It´s a great travelers´ hangout and there was able to sample some of the local nightlife with two Peruvians I had met, including lots of cervezas and pisco sours (pretty much the Peruvian national drink).
From there, I headed to Lima which allowed me to get oriented to Peru. The town is unfortunately very polluted, a perpetual smog covering the city. However, there are some good museums which give you a better understanding of the many pre-Incan civilizations, interesting historic churches, and it has a good nightlife. I went out with two Americans I had met until about 3 a.m. in a pena featuring traditional Peruvian music and dancing (cervezas and pisco sours figured in again). A candidate for national food would have to be ceviche, of which I was sure to have my share. If you have never had ceviche: raw fish marinated in a lime and chili combination served with sweet potatoes and toasted corn.
I next made it to Cuzco, in the Andes. It was winter there so crisp clear skies, sunny weather, but as the sun sets it gets extremely cold. For the first time in a long while, I was cold, wearing sweaters, alpaca wool hats, NorthFace jackets, and thick socks. The city is always celebrating something, there is a great sense of history, the surrounding scenery is beautiful, lots of friendly people, and there's an amazing amount to do - all of which makes it difficult to leave. I spent an amazing time in and around this city.
Cuzco was the center of the universe according to the Incas and numerous Inca ruins surround the city dating back to the 15th Century and before. While visiting Inca ruins in the Sacred Valley and around Cuzco such as Pisaq, Ollantaytambo, and Sachsaywama, and small towns perched high in the Andes such as Chinchero, I learned about the Quecha and Inca cultures. Hiking up steep ancient staircases can take a toll on your lungs in high altitude, but chewing on some coca leafs usually helps adjust to the altitude (and as many shirts proclaim, the coca leaf is not a drug!).
The most impressive part of staying here, though, was hiking the Inca Trail and seeing Machu Picchu. Unknown to the Spaniards who destroyed everything in their path, these ruins were lost to the jungles and were not rediscovered until the early 20th Century. The best way to appreciate them is to hike through the Andes over the Inca Trail (I went with SAS Travel who I would recommend if you're thinking of going). It tests your fitness, stamina, and lungs due to the high altitude. The Trail crosses beautiful mountain scenery, passing orchids and other unique Andean plants and animals along the way. Passing ruins along the way, you finally end up at a sungate, through which you can see snow-capped mountains in the distance with Machu Picchu laid out below you. These ruins, in a spectacular setting perfectly aligned with the summer and winter solstice sunrises, were perhaps the most sacred to the Incas. Terraced agricultural fields, crumbling ruins, grazing llamas and alpacas, and cloud-circled mountains rising up behind the complex create a truly mystical setting.
Returning to Cuzco, I ran into a friend from New York I had not seen in a couple years. The world´s small. I took a nine hour train trip through stunning countryside with Andean peaks covered with snow as weathered farmers tended fields and shepherded their flocks of sheep, llamas, and alpacas. Brightly clad women wearing incongruous bowler hats with babies tied behind their backs. Small stands selling fruits and woollen clothing at cities where the train stopped.
The train ended in Puno, perched on the edge of Lake Titicaca. This lake is the highest navigable lake in the world, with part of the lake Peru's and the eastern part Bolivia's. I crossed over to the laid-back village of Copacabana on the Bolivian side. First, 18 people (including me) piled into a minivan for 2 hours. Then, I hopped into a tuk-tuk and was biked to the border. Checking in at Peruvian and Bolivian immigration was straightforward and soon was on the final leg of the journey - another minivan.
In Copacabana, met quite a few people from all over the world. As it turned out, two travelers from London and I would spend the next several days together exploring parts of Bolivia. Near Copacabana is Isla del Sol, an island that has featured in both pre-Inca and Inca history. For the Incas, this was the island where their empire mythologically started. Hiking over undulating terrain from one end to the other allows you to get brilliant 360 degree views over the entire surrounding area. It's surrounded by azure waters and in the distance, the Cordillera Real mountain range seemingly floats above the water.
From Copacabana, we took a bus to La Paz. Approaching the city, you suddenly plunge over the edge of a crater down steep streets into a bustling city punctuated by many colorful markets. Overlooking the city is the majestic snow-capped Illimani. From here, I explored the pre-Inca ruins of Tiwanaku and spent time in the city haggling over the many things for sale from the ubiquitous alpaca wool products to concoctions in the Witches Market - I had to pass on the llama fetus a witch tried to sell me. Also spent time in the numerous museums (my favorite: the Museo de la Coca) and churches, but the best part of hanging out in La Paz is meeting people and exploring the various streets.
Throughout Colombia, Peru, and Bolivia, I met lots of local friendly people and the usual assortment of world travelers from Australia, Canada, England, Ireland, and Israel. I also found out where the Americans have been hiding - Peru. After seeing virtually none over the past six months, suddenly from Lima to Cuzco, I met American college students on summer break who had been studying or volunteering abroad, world travelers, Gringo Trail travelers, and tourists from Atlanta, New York, San Francisco, and everywhere in between.
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
Praias bonitas
Swaying palm trees. White sandy beaches. Emerald and aqua waters. Coral reefs. Tropical fish. Dolphins. Turtles. Acaraje. Caiparinhas. Cervejas. Capoeira. Drums. Forro. From Caraivia in Bahia to Fortaleza in Ceara, I spent this past month on Brazil´s northeastern beaches. I made my way everywhere via bus, boat, buggy, truck, car, and sometimes just walking - I´ve now logged over 7000km on the buses (4400 miles). Picking which was the most beautiful or most memorable is extremely difficult as you´ll hopefully see below.
The beaches in Bahia south of Salvador are each more amazing than the next. Except for one, the roads are merely sand and one did not even have electricity. Caraiva's rustic simplicity, Trancoso's hippy vibes, Itacare's white-water rafting, Marau's deserted island feel, Morro de Sao Paulo's 4 very different beaches - some virtually deserted. While there, from an old fort, watched dolphins playing in the bay while the sun set. Went to a full moon party and saw the total eclipse of the moon from the beach. All of these beaches are travelers´ hangouts which allowed me to meet great locals, Brazilian tourists (mainly from Sao Paulo or Rio), and international travelers; bit by bit, my Portugese has improved. Plus, these towns all have good nightlife.
For some of the best nightlife, though, I headed to Salvador, the capital of Bahia. Here, the African influence can be felt everywhere, from most of the population being black to the typical Baihan women in their hoop skirts and white headdresses selling acaraje (deepfried heart-attack inducing with shrimps and hotsauce that makes your eyes water). The old part of the city is called Pelourinho, perched on a bluff that´s so steep that there's an elevator to get from the lower city to the upper city. In this part of town, the old baroque and rococco colonial churches sit alongside pastel-painted houses on meandering streets and squares. At night, bands come out to play, drummers parade through the streets, and people dance. Every night, there is something going on and I usually tried to find my way there. Throughout Bahia, groups perform capoeira, a form of martial arts to the accompaniment of drums and a fishing rod looking contraption that is plucked. Capoeira is a sublime martial art that is as beautiful as a dance. (I owe a huge thanks to Adriano Borges´ cousins and mom for making sure I was having fun and for putting up with me for a week.)
I continued north, making my way through Maceio, Recife, Natal, and Fortaleza. These cities all have around 1 million or more population, large beach-focused areas (where I stayed), and good nightlife. Most of these cities, too were fought over by the Dutch, French, English, and Portugese in the 17th century, so they all have small historical areas. In this part of Brazil, forro is the usual nighttime activity - live music and dancing accompanied by either caiparinhas, caiparoskas, or beers.
The small towns in these areas are excellent as well. An hour-and-a-half north of Salvador, Praia do Forte has natural piscinas (pools) where you can lounge during low tide and home to the TAMAR reserve which protects endangered turtles. Olinda, on a hill overlooking Recife, boasts numerous churches, cathedrals, monasteries, and museums lining hilly streets where artisans ply their crafts. Praia da Pipa is a laid-back beach town midway between Recife and Natal high on a cliff above sandy beaches and good surf below that´s a popular travelers stop. Ponta Negra and other beaches around Natal are dominated by huge windswept dunes. Around Fortaleza are numerous beaches and fishing villages.
I also made it to Fernando de Norronha, an archipelago of islands that is home to some of Brazil´s best beaches and also its best diving. Noronha is a beautiful paradise with most of it a national park. Dolphins swam with us while on a boatride to an excellent snorkeling spot. While diving, besides tropical fish and coral, saw barracudas, turtles, moray eels, and stingrays. I was also literally swimming with sharks, seeing at least ten and in most cases close enough to touch.
The beaches in Bahia south of Salvador are each more amazing than the next. Except for one, the roads are merely sand and one did not even have electricity. Caraiva's rustic simplicity, Trancoso's hippy vibes, Itacare's white-water rafting, Marau's deserted island feel, Morro de Sao Paulo's 4 very different beaches - some virtually deserted. While there, from an old fort, watched dolphins playing in the bay while the sun set. Went to a full moon party and saw the total eclipse of the moon from the beach. All of these beaches are travelers´ hangouts which allowed me to meet great locals, Brazilian tourists (mainly from Sao Paulo or Rio), and international travelers; bit by bit, my Portugese has improved. Plus, these towns all have good nightlife.
For some of the best nightlife, though, I headed to Salvador, the capital of Bahia. Here, the African influence can be felt everywhere, from most of the population being black to the typical Baihan women in their hoop skirts and white headdresses selling acaraje (deepfried heart-attack inducing with shrimps and hotsauce that makes your eyes water). The old part of the city is called Pelourinho, perched on a bluff that´s so steep that there's an elevator to get from the lower city to the upper city. In this part of town, the old baroque and rococco colonial churches sit alongside pastel-painted houses on meandering streets and squares. At night, bands come out to play, drummers parade through the streets, and people dance. Every night, there is something going on and I usually tried to find my way there. Throughout Bahia, groups perform capoeira, a form of martial arts to the accompaniment of drums and a fishing rod looking contraption that is plucked. Capoeira is a sublime martial art that is as beautiful as a dance. (I owe a huge thanks to Adriano Borges´ cousins and mom for making sure I was having fun and for putting up with me for a week.)
I continued north, making my way through Maceio, Recife, Natal, and Fortaleza. These cities all have around 1 million or more population, large beach-focused areas (where I stayed), and good nightlife. Most of these cities, too were fought over by the Dutch, French, English, and Portugese in the 17th century, so they all have small historical areas. In this part of Brazil, forro is the usual nighttime activity - live music and dancing accompanied by either caiparinhas, caiparoskas, or beers.
The small towns in these areas are excellent as well. An hour-and-a-half north of Salvador, Praia do Forte has natural piscinas (pools) where you can lounge during low tide and home to the TAMAR reserve which protects endangered turtles. Olinda, on a hill overlooking Recife, boasts numerous churches, cathedrals, monasteries, and museums lining hilly streets where artisans ply their crafts. Praia da Pipa is a laid-back beach town midway between Recife and Natal high on a cliff above sandy beaches and good surf below that´s a popular travelers stop. Ponta Negra and other beaches around Natal are dominated by huge windswept dunes. Around Fortaleza are numerous beaches and fishing villages.
I also made it to Fernando de Norronha, an archipelago of islands that is home to some of Brazil´s best beaches and also its best diving. Noronha is a beautiful paradise with most of it a national park. Dolphins swam with us while on a boatride to an excellent snorkeling spot. While diving, besides tropical fish and coral, saw barracudas, turtles, moray eels, and stingrays. I was also literally swimming with sharks, seeing at least ten and in most cases close enough to touch.
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
By bus through Brazil
After some time getting acquainted with the Brazilian way of life in Sao Paulo, I headed to the Pantanal - an area in which a vast assortment of wildlife and where I saw mammals (capuchin monkeys, giant anteaters, capybara), fish (piranha, dourado, pacu), reptiles (fake coral snake, caiman - a type of alligator), and lots of birds (jabiru stork, toucans, macaws, vultures, hawks, and on and on). I was fortunate to be able to fish for piranha amongst caimans, take canoe trips at sunrise and sunset, and even herd cattle on horseback with the Pantaneiras. I then moved 4 hours south to Bonito, where there are incredibly clear rivers and caves with deep azure lakes. Was able to hike through forests, swim in these rivers, and explore the caves.
I continued my journey south by leito (overnight bus) to Foz do Iguacu - home to an amazing set of waterfalls that you have to see, feel, and hear to really appreciate their sublime power. The Brazilian side provides a great panoramic view of the falls, while on the Argentinian side was able to take a boat literally under part of the falls (and get completely soaking wet). Surrounding the falls are rainforests which have a wide range of wildlife rivalling the Pantanal.
Took another long bus journey to Curitiba from where I took a train through forests and over mountains, clinging to ridges, crossing 67 bridges and passing through 14 tunnels as the train gradually wound its way to Paranagua - located on the coast - where I took a boat trip around the islands. That evening, moved on to Florianopolis (or Floripa as it's nicknamed) where I stayed on a great stretch of beach called Praia Mole and went out at night in Lagoa. A chill couple days to end all the traveling around the Central West and the South.
Throughout these travels, I've met lots of great Brazilians - even with language difficulties (I don't speak Portugese). In addition, have met a tremendous amount of travelers from England, Germany, Australia, Canada, the US, even Poland. Often staying at a pousada not paying more than $10, I meet others over breakfast or a cerveja where we swap tales and explore the country together. If you make it to Iguacu, I highly recommend staying at Pousada Evelina, a converted home in a nice neighborhood. Here, Evelina will mother her brood of travelers - she was a bit disappointed how "little" we ate at breakfast (we were stuffed) and that we did not take umbrellas with us one day. When we returned from the falls, coffee and cake was awaiting us.
I continued my journey south by leito (overnight bus) to Foz do Iguacu - home to an amazing set of waterfalls that you have to see, feel, and hear to really appreciate their sublime power. The Brazilian side provides a great panoramic view of the falls, while on the Argentinian side was able to take a boat literally under part of the falls (and get completely soaking wet). Surrounding the falls are rainforests which have a wide range of wildlife rivalling the Pantanal.
Took another long bus journey to Curitiba from where I took a train through forests and over mountains, clinging to ridges, crossing 67 bridges and passing through 14 tunnels as the train gradually wound its way to Paranagua - located on the coast - where I took a boat trip around the islands. That evening, moved on to Florianopolis (or Floripa as it's nicknamed) where I stayed on a great stretch of beach called Praia Mole and went out at night in Lagoa. A chill couple days to end all the traveling around the Central West and the South.
Throughout these travels, I've met lots of great Brazilians - even with language difficulties (I don't speak Portugese). In addition, have met a tremendous amount of travelers from England, Germany, Australia, Canada, the US, even Poland. Often staying at a pousada not paying more than $10, I meet others over breakfast or a cerveja where we swap tales and explore the country together. If you make it to Iguacu, I highly recommend staying at Pousada Evelina, a converted home in a nice neighborhood. Here, Evelina will mother her brood of travelers - she was a bit disappointed how "little" we ate at breakfast (we were stuffed) and that we did not take umbrellas with us one day. When we returned from the falls, coffee and cake was awaiting us.
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Tea in the Sahara
By sipping tea in the Sahara, haggling in a souq over the cost of dates, lingering in a cafe in Casa, exploring kasbahs in the Dades Valley, or riding a camel past the shifting sand dunes of Erg Chebbi at sunset, I was able to experience all facets of Morocco. I stayed at various types of hotels in the medina (old part of the city) as well as the ville nouvelle of the cities. In Fes, I even stayed in a riad which is a converted old townhouse.
I am now able to make broad stereotyped comments that are probably completely off base. Casa, as the Casablancians call their city, is cosmopolitan and the people are all very beautiful. Rabat is also cosmopolitan but is like the DC to Casa's NYC although both resemble cities in Provence. Tangier has a 1950´s air to it as all the beatniks like William Burroughs and Paul Bowles made their home here at one point or another. Marrakesh is very touristy but also for the Moroccans - it's a real freakshow in the main square (Djeema el Fna) so of course I hung out a lot there. While an imperial city, Meknes is seen a bit as a kind of the ugly stepsister to its beautiful sisters Fes and Marrakesh but that also means there's lot less hassle in the souqs. Fes is amazing in its meandering ways wending their way through the old medina, meaning you get hopelessly lost only to discover some riad or palace tucked in amongst the cramped, filthy streets.
For me, the highlight of my visit to this country was a 3-day trip from Marrakesh that was packed with so many hihghlights: visiting kasbahs, stops in Ouazazate, Boumalne-de-Dades and lots of scenic viewpoints, beautiful valleys (Dades, Roses), crossing the snow-capped High Atlas Mountains as the rain turned to sleet, exploring gorges, sleeping in a little hotel perched above a river in a gorge, desert driving, walking through farming communities and other Berber villages, watching the weather change from cold icy rain to beautiful sunny skies, camel rides at sunset and sunrise through the classic windswept sand dunes of the Sahara, sleeping under the stars in a tent in the Sahara, singing to songs and listening to Arabic and Berber songs as our Berber guide tapped out the rhythms on his drum, and met some great other travelers.
Food is dominated by couscous and various kinds of tajine plus lots of mint tea. Other foods are lemon chicken and pastilla, plus the Moroccans have a sweet tooth and enjoy their pastries and dried fruit. The fresh fruit is amazing and everywhere you go, there are little stands selling freshly squeezed orange juice. The language here is Arabic of course, but French is a very close second. As many Moroccans do not speak English, I don't know how people without a basic grasp of French get around here. With the French influence, I've enjoyed many croissants, good breads, crepes, and cafe au lait.
There is a sense of deja vu when you travel to places like the Heri es-Souani in Meknes, the Erg Chebbi in the Sahara, or Ait Benhaddou. Those names may not mean anything to you, but the places would be instantly recognizable from classic films like Lawrence of Arabia and Jesus of Nazareth, as well as more recent films like Gladiator and The Mummy. One to look out for will be Alexander the Great, although the war has affected filming.
Today, I left the Muslim Arab world for a country that is a member of the Coalition of the Willing (who thinks up these names? It´s like the Justice League versus the Legion of Doom) - Spain. My original ferry from Tangier was cancelled and so aimed to take a slightly later one. However, the ferry ended up leaving nearly two hours later than I expected. Then, I found out it would take 2 hours longer than the original one. Finally, I found out that there was a 2 hour time difference between Morocco and Spain. All in all, I arrived in Spain 8 hours later than expected. After walking completely by the bus station and wasting another 45 minutes needlessly, I finally found the station by my mangled ¨Sprenchglais¨ = Spanish-French-English. ¨Excuse me, ou est l´estacion de bus por favor gracias?¨ was what I asked. I missed the direct bus to Malaga and Granada by 5 minutes so decided to stay the night in this port city rather than arrive in Malaga at 9:30 and having no idea where to stay (I don´t have a Spain travel guide). So, now, I will skip Malaga completely and arrive in Granada tomorrow.
I am now able to make broad stereotyped comments that are probably completely off base. Casa, as the Casablancians call their city, is cosmopolitan and the people are all very beautiful. Rabat is also cosmopolitan but is like the DC to Casa's NYC although both resemble cities in Provence. Tangier has a 1950´s air to it as all the beatniks like William Burroughs and Paul Bowles made their home here at one point or another. Marrakesh is very touristy but also for the Moroccans - it's a real freakshow in the main square (Djeema el Fna) so of course I hung out a lot there. While an imperial city, Meknes is seen a bit as a kind of the ugly stepsister to its beautiful sisters Fes and Marrakesh but that also means there's lot less hassle in the souqs. Fes is amazing in its meandering ways wending their way through the old medina, meaning you get hopelessly lost only to discover some riad or palace tucked in amongst the cramped, filthy streets.
For me, the highlight of my visit to this country was a 3-day trip from Marrakesh that was packed with so many hihghlights: visiting kasbahs, stops in Ouazazate, Boumalne-de-Dades and lots of scenic viewpoints, beautiful valleys (Dades, Roses), crossing the snow-capped High Atlas Mountains as the rain turned to sleet, exploring gorges, sleeping in a little hotel perched above a river in a gorge, desert driving, walking through farming communities and other Berber villages, watching the weather change from cold icy rain to beautiful sunny skies, camel rides at sunset and sunrise through the classic windswept sand dunes of the Sahara, sleeping under the stars in a tent in the Sahara, singing to songs and listening to Arabic and Berber songs as our Berber guide tapped out the rhythms on his drum, and met some great other travelers.
Food is dominated by couscous and various kinds of tajine plus lots of mint tea. Other foods are lemon chicken and pastilla, plus the Moroccans have a sweet tooth and enjoy their pastries and dried fruit. The fresh fruit is amazing and everywhere you go, there are little stands selling freshly squeezed orange juice. The language here is Arabic of course, but French is a very close second. As many Moroccans do not speak English, I don't know how people without a basic grasp of French get around here. With the French influence, I've enjoyed many croissants, good breads, crepes, and cafe au lait.
There is a sense of deja vu when you travel to places like the Heri es-Souani in Meknes, the Erg Chebbi in the Sahara, or Ait Benhaddou. Those names may not mean anything to you, but the places would be instantly recognizable from classic films like Lawrence of Arabia and Jesus of Nazareth, as well as more recent films like Gladiator and The Mummy. One to look out for will be Alexander the Great, although the war has affected filming.
Today, I left the Muslim Arab world for a country that is a member of the Coalition of the Willing (who thinks up these names? It´s like the Justice League versus the Legion of Doom) - Spain. My original ferry from Tangier was cancelled and so aimed to take a slightly later one. However, the ferry ended up leaving nearly two hours later than I expected. Then, I found out it would take 2 hours longer than the original one. Finally, I found out that there was a 2 hour time difference between Morocco and Spain. All in all, I arrived in Spain 8 hours later than expected. After walking completely by the bus station and wasting another 45 minutes needlessly, I finally found the station by my mangled ¨Sprenchglais¨ = Spanish-French-English. ¨Excuse me, ou est l´estacion de bus por favor gracias?¨ was what I asked. I missed the direct bus to Malaga and Granada by 5 minutes so decided to stay the night in this port city rather than arrive in Malaga at 9:30 and having no idea where to stay (I don´t have a Spain travel guide). So, now, I will skip Malaga completely and arrive in Granada tomorrow.
Friday, March 21, 2003
The Nile. The Red Sea. And the Desert.
I am currently in Casablanca and it is a very interesting perspective to be in the Middle East and Northern Africa given the current geopolitical situation. I'm not going to dwell on politics nor whether this is right or wrong, however I do want to let you know that I have felt safe the entire time I have been in predominantly Muslim Arabic countries; in fact, I have been welcomed by everyone I have met.
Egypt was one of the friendliest countries I`ve been in - countless offers of tea, dinner in my felucca captain`s Nubian village, and numerous smiles greeting me. As I previously told my parents, everyone I`ve come in contact with makes a clear distinction between politicians and the people. Part of this may be simple economics of course: tourism is one of the biggest - maybe the biggest - industries in Egypt and the greenback and euro are prized. Of course, now that bombs are dropping and people are being killed things could change; however, I believe that as I continue my trip through Morocco the hospitable welcomes will also continue.
I eluded to some of the things I did while in Egypt and will let you know some details shortly. However, I have to start in South East Asia where I last left you. After spending a few days in Bangkok, I flew to Singapore where I stayed with Choot Lim (thanks, Choot and Audrey plus the rest of the Lim family). It was nice to catch up with a variety of friends zho live in Singapore, plus a chance to visit favorite spots. After a few days, though, I flew to Cairo.
Egypt is an amazing country. Walking through the desert looking at pyramids sometimes 4700 years old is a humbling feeling. Descending into a tomb to admire paintings that have been there for thousands of years leaves you awe-struck. Coming face-to-face with Tutankhamen's gold mask, walking through the immense columns of Karnak, and floating gently down the Nile are some of the other highlights.
However, simply traveling from place to place are adventures in themselves. Taking an overnight sleeper train from Cairo to Aswan, waking up at 3 a.m. to join the 4 a.m. police-led convoy to see the awesome temple at Abu Simbel not 50km away from the Sudanese border, negotiating with a felucca (type of sailboat) captain in the dark recesses of a restaurant while smoking a sisha, then sailing on that felucca for 3 days and 2 nights, taking a cruise up to Dendara, taking a local bus from Dahab to Cairo were all part of the experience.
The above is not to say that all I did was run around from one place to the next. I was able to relax in a variety of ways: sipping a tea on the terraces of the three classic hotels in Giza (Mena House), Aswan (Old Cataract Hotel), and Luxor (Old Winter Palace), doing absolutely nothing but lounging on the beach the first 2 days in Dahab, diving the Red Sea in such places as the Bells, Blue Hole, and the Canyon, dancing around a campfire with fellow travelers and the Nubian captains while singing Arabic songs (and some Bob Marley), and finally, I made some life-long friends in fellow travelers.
Egypt was one of the friendliest countries I`ve been in - countless offers of tea, dinner in my felucca captain`s Nubian village, and numerous smiles greeting me. As I previously told my parents, everyone I`ve come in contact with makes a clear distinction between politicians and the people. Part of this may be simple economics of course: tourism is one of the biggest - maybe the biggest - industries in Egypt and the greenback and euro are prized. Of course, now that bombs are dropping and people are being killed things could change; however, I believe that as I continue my trip through Morocco the hospitable welcomes will also continue.
I eluded to some of the things I did while in Egypt and will let you know some details shortly. However, I have to start in South East Asia where I last left you. After spending a few days in Bangkok, I flew to Singapore where I stayed with Choot Lim (thanks, Choot and Audrey plus the rest of the Lim family). It was nice to catch up with a variety of friends zho live in Singapore, plus a chance to visit favorite spots. After a few days, though, I flew to Cairo.
Egypt is an amazing country. Walking through the desert looking at pyramids sometimes 4700 years old is a humbling feeling. Descending into a tomb to admire paintings that have been there for thousands of years leaves you awe-struck. Coming face-to-face with Tutankhamen's gold mask, walking through the immense columns of Karnak, and floating gently down the Nile are some of the other highlights.
However, simply traveling from place to place are adventures in themselves. Taking an overnight sleeper train from Cairo to Aswan, waking up at 3 a.m. to join the 4 a.m. police-led convoy to see the awesome temple at Abu Simbel not 50km away from the Sudanese border, negotiating with a felucca (type of sailboat) captain in the dark recesses of a restaurant while smoking a sisha, then sailing on that felucca for 3 days and 2 nights, taking a cruise up to Dendara, taking a local bus from Dahab to Cairo were all part of the experience.
The above is not to say that all I did was run around from one place to the next. I was able to relax in a variety of ways: sipping a tea on the terraces of the three classic hotels in Giza (Mena House), Aswan (Old Cataract Hotel), and Luxor (Old Winter Palace), doing absolutely nothing but lounging on the beach the first 2 days in Dahab, diving the Red Sea in such places as the Bells, Blue Hole, and the Canyon, dancing around a campfire with fellow travelers and the Nubian captains while singing Arabic songs (and some Bob Marley), and finally, I made some life-long friends in fellow travelers.
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
Travels through Northern Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Southern Thailand, and that megalopolis of a city - Bangkok, Part II
After Laos, I made my way to Central Vietnam, Cambodia, and Southern Thailand. There are so many experiences too numerous to recount such as traveling to the DMZ in Vietnam with my guide Mr. Duy explaining the significance of the sights, watching fireworks over the Imperial City in Hue to ring in Tet, seeing the Cham ruins in My Son, watching the sun rise over Angkor Wat from Phnom Bakeng, learning to rock climb in Rah Lei, kayaking in the Ang Thong National Park, dancing all night on the beach of Ko Phagnan at the Full Moon Party, and most of all meeting Vietnamese, Cambodians, and Thais during my travels. Here are a few highlights of my trip.
Hoi An, Vietnam
Hoi An is a little town located on a river that has traditional shophouses and other buildings architecturally influenced by Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and European. Many of these buildings have now been converted to restaurants, souvenir shops, and other businesses geared at the burgeoning tourist trade, but there are still pockets of discovery. As the town is small, a great way to explore is on bike and leaving the center of town. As I headed north, I ran into two brothers (Sun and Moon) who offered to show me to the pagodas, rice paddies, and Japanese cemetery I was planning to see. I knew I would have to probably buy them a drink or something at the end, but it was a fun way to spend the afternoon. Moon was startled by the hairs on my arms: "Like a monkey!" and Sun told me he hoped to play in the NBA one day. After seeing the pagodas, they led me on a tiny path through the middle of the rice paddies, where the iconic conical hat wearing Vietnamese women tended the fields. They knew of a little place in the middle, where we could sit and I shared some oranges. There, I stared out along the green fields.
Return to Angkor
Returning to Angkor after 4 years was shocking - the Angkor I remembered was unpaved roads, few hotels, and barely any tourists. Now, there were thousands of tourists (from everywhere - many on package tours), seemingly more 5-star hotels than there were total hotels, and the roads are paved to even the furthest out temples. It is still an amazing place, of course, but it is exponentially more busy.
Phnom Penh
I had never been to Phnom Penh, and shortly before I went there were anti-Thai riots that broke out. Most of the hotels and the tourist industry that I noted before are actually controlled by Thais as they provided much of the investment. Riding on the back of a moto along the Tonle Sap, heading south, we turned a bit inland and saw the demolished Thai-owned hotels and the Thai Embassy. Very sad as it now seems that it may have been a politically motivated and organized event. Most of the local Cambodians I spoke to were sad that it happened and hoped that Thailand would soon reopen the borders and start investing again.
Petchaburi - Phra Nakhon Khiri Festival
Once a year, this small town south of Bangkok holds a week-long festival with a carnival, market, lots of local food, and the focus of it all - temples and palaces on the main hill lit up at night. Every night, there are traditional Thai dances and Thai music, local artists producing art and crafts, and thousands of Thais eating and drinking. Twice a night, there are fireworks. The best part is that there are very, very few Westerners who visit. Walking around, you get a great sense of Thailand. Given how friendly everyone is, you're greeted everywhere you go and smiled at. By the end of the night, two of the people I had met at the guesthouse and I had been invited to a local disco. We hopped into a tuk-tuk, not sure where we were heading but made it to the club where we exchanged drinks with the Thais into the small hours of the night.
Chumphon to Rah Lei
I wanted to go from Chumphon to Rah Lei (or nearby Krabi), but found out there was no direct way from Chumphon. Thus, I hopped into a van at 1 o'clock to Ranong. When I arrived there, there was still no bus to Krabi, but there was a bus heading south. Several hours later, and by now dark, I was dropped off along the side of the main road in a little town. There, I found some moto drivers and asked, "Bus Krabi?" They chuckled, told me it had left and pointed me to the bus station. Down a street filled with shops (closed) and bars (open), I at first could not find the station. Then, I noticed that one of the few shops that was open had a sign above it indicating it was the Bus Station. There, I found noone, but then I saw someone staggering out of the bar across the street. He informed me he was the manager and that the bus to Krabi would arrive across the main road at 8. I hurried back and waited. And waited. Nearly 8:30 and a policeman on a moto drove by and stopped off at the restaurant near me. He soon waved me over and I then found out from him that there was no bus to Krabi. He indicated I should hop on to his moto and we took off to who knows where? My heavy pack pulling me back, throwing off my balance and the added weight did not help him keep his balance but we eventually made it to the police station where I was told to wait. I soon gathered that there would be a bus at some point. An hour later, sure enough, a packed bus pulled up and I had the last seat - the middle one in the back row. Speeding down the road, taking turns as fast as he could, the driver bounced us towards Krabi. More people came on, forced to stand. We eventually pulled into Krabi around 11:30. Rather, we were 5 kilometers outside of Krabi, so hopped onto a moto, the driver of which took me to a guest house. I still had not quite made it to Rah Lei, so the next morning I went to the pier and haggled with the longboat drivers to take me to Rah Lei. After agreeing on a price, wading through the water, and scrambling aboard, we set off - only for the driver to get his propeller wrapped up in a mooring line. However, we did finally get untangled and did make it to Rah Lei - a beautiful place of limestone cliffs, white sandy beaches, palm trees, mangroves, and clear blue-green sea.
Hoi An, Vietnam
Hoi An is a little town located on a river that has traditional shophouses and other buildings architecturally influenced by Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, and European. Many of these buildings have now been converted to restaurants, souvenir shops, and other businesses geared at the burgeoning tourist trade, but there are still pockets of discovery. As the town is small, a great way to explore is on bike and leaving the center of town. As I headed north, I ran into two brothers (Sun and Moon) who offered to show me to the pagodas, rice paddies, and Japanese cemetery I was planning to see. I knew I would have to probably buy them a drink or something at the end, but it was a fun way to spend the afternoon. Moon was startled by the hairs on my arms: "Like a monkey!" and Sun told me he hoped to play in the NBA one day. After seeing the pagodas, they led me on a tiny path through the middle of the rice paddies, where the iconic conical hat wearing Vietnamese women tended the fields. They knew of a little place in the middle, where we could sit and I shared some oranges. There, I stared out along the green fields.
Return to Angkor
Returning to Angkor after 4 years was shocking - the Angkor I remembered was unpaved roads, few hotels, and barely any tourists. Now, there were thousands of tourists (from everywhere - many on package tours), seemingly more 5-star hotels than there were total hotels, and the roads are paved to even the furthest out temples. It is still an amazing place, of course, but it is exponentially more busy.
Phnom Penh
I had never been to Phnom Penh, and shortly before I went there were anti-Thai riots that broke out. Most of the hotels and the tourist industry that I noted before are actually controlled by Thais as they provided much of the investment. Riding on the back of a moto along the Tonle Sap, heading south, we turned a bit inland and saw the demolished Thai-owned hotels and the Thai Embassy. Very sad as it now seems that it may have been a politically motivated and organized event. Most of the local Cambodians I spoke to were sad that it happened and hoped that Thailand would soon reopen the borders and start investing again.
Petchaburi - Phra Nakhon Khiri Festival
Once a year, this small town south of Bangkok holds a week-long festival with a carnival, market, lots of local food, and the focus of it all - temples and palaces on the main hill lit up at night. Every night, there are traditional Thai dances and Thai music, local artists producing art and crafts, and thousands of Thais eating and drinking. Twice a night, there are fireworks. The best part is that there are very, very few Westerners who visit. Walking around, you get a great sense of Thailand. Given how friendly everyone is, you're greeted everywhere you go and smiled at. By the end of the night, two of the people I had met at the guesthouse and I had been invited to a local disco. We hopped into a tuk-tuk, not sure where we were heading but made it to the club where we exchanged drinks with the Thais into the small hours of the night.
Chumphon to Rah Lei
I wanted to go from Chumphon to Rah Lei (or nearby Krabi), but found out there was no direct way from Chumphon. Thus, I hopped into a van at 1 o'clock to Ranong. When I arrived there, there was still no bus to Krabi, but there was a bus heading south. Several hours later, and by now dark, I was dropped off along the side of the main road in a little town. There, I found some moto drivers and asked, "Bus Krabi?" They chuckled, told me it had left and pointed me to the bus station. Down a street filled with shops (closed) and bars (open), I at first could not find the station. Then, I noticed that one of the few shops that was open had a sign above it indicating it was the Bus Station. There, I found noone, but then I saw someone staggering out of the bar across the street. He informed me he was the manager and that the bus to Krabi would arrive across the main road at 8. I hurried back and waited. And waited. Nearly 8:30 and a policeman on a moto drove by and stopped off at the restaurant near me. He soon waved me over and I then found out from him that there was no bus to Krabi. He indicated I should hop on to his moto and we took off to who knows where? My heavy pack pulling me back, throwing off my balance and the added weight did not help him keep his balance but we eventually made it to the police station where I was told to wait. I soon gathered that there would be a bus at some point. An hour later, sure enough, a packed bus pulled up and I had the last seat - the middle one in the back row. Speeding down the road, taking turns as fast as he could, the driver bounced us towards Krabi. More people came on, forced to stand. We eventually pulled into Krabi around 11:30. Rather, we were 5 kilometers outside of Krabi, so hopped onto a moto, the driver of which took me to a guest house. I still had not quite made it to Rah Lei, so the next morning I went to the pier and haggled with the longboat drivers to take me to Rah Lei. After agreeing on a price, wading through the water, and scrambling aboard, we set off - only for the driver to get his propeller wrapped up in a mooring line. However, we did finally get untangled and did make it to Rah Lei - a beautiful place of limestone cliffs, white sandy beaches, palm trees, mangroves, and clear blue-green sea.
Friday, January 24, 2003
Travels through Northern Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Southern Thailand, and that megalopolis of a city - Bangkok
After New Years Eve in New York, I was soon back in Hong Kong for a week and then made my way to Bangkok for several days which allowed me to make extensive use of the SkyTrain and the Express Boats on the Chao Praya. I was able to see some of the tourist sights that I had not before made it to, plus do more mundane things such as obtain my Vietnam visa.
After Bangkok, I made my way north to Sukhothai and Si Srathanalai (both in Thailand) to see some amazing 13th century temples/ruins - very beautiful and lots of buddha statues still intact as well. The Sukhothai period was post-Khmer/Angkor but before Ayutthaya. In fact, Sukhothai broke free from Khmer dominance in order to establish the first Siamese capital although it only lasted 100-150 years before being overwhelmed by the Ayutthaya empire.
Then, crossed over into Laos to Luang Prabang -very cool, laidback city where the Lao royal family used to be based, thus there is the Royal Palace. There are also many wats here of unique design and Lao's most famous Buddha the Pha Bang. I also spent an entire day on the Mekong with a Canadian girl that I had met. We hired a boat & driver for the day in order to see some wats in a cave two hours upriver, plus we stopped at a couple villages along the way. On the way back, a group of Lao college students that were friends with our boat driver pulled up beside us and offered a shot of Mekong whiskey. We soon had shut the engines, tied the boats together, and progressed amidst lots of laughter to polish off two bottles amongst the ten of us while slowly drifting down the river as day passed from bright sunny afternoon to dusky early evening.
My trip to Phonsavan was a 9-hour tortuous bus journey through beautiful mountainous landscape. We suffered a late start, a flat tire, a road out, and a landslide - but we eventually made it! I met several people on the bus (2 women from England and a couple from the US). We all decided to stay at the same guesthouse and the next day the 5 of us (w/guide & driver) headed out to the Plain of Jars in an old Soviet Jeep - here, there are some mysterious huge jars (some weigh 6 tons) that likely have been here for 2000 years or more. In addition, this is an area that was bombed continuously by the US for 10 years utnil 1975. So there are craters everywhere, plus the people have used old bombs in everyday things - planters, fencing, houses, etc. Our guide told us some moving stories about when he was a little boy during the war and also that his brother once uncovered a UXO (unexploded ordinance) that damaged his face and arm. As there had been nearly 25 years that had passed, he himself told the story more matter-of-factly. We also had a chance to stop at a Hmong village and a Lao village. As you may imagine, the Lao are the dominant people here in Laos, but the Hmong are a significant minority, especially on the Xieng Khuan plateau (where Phonsavan/Plain of Jars is). These were just regular farming villages, they weren't trying to sell anything and was nice to see how simply the people live.
I decided to fly from Phonsavan to Luang Prabang and was treated to some beautiful sights over the countryside: green mountains, valleys, flowing rivers, and lakes. In Vientiane I had a 1-hour layover and used that time to hire a taxi to drive me around the city so that I could see all the main sights. Then flew to Luang Prabang the late afternoon to find all the electiricty was out so there were candles everywhere during dusk; thus at night dined along the Mekong by candlelight...very peaceful.
I go to Da Nang today and will be disapointed to leave Lao, the smiling people, beautiful scenery, and the wonderful food.
After Bangkok, I made my way north to Sukhothai and Si Srathanalai (both in Thailand) to see some amazing 13th century temples/ruins - very beautiful and lots of buddha statues still intact as well. The Sukhothai period was post-Khmer/Angkor but before Ayutthaya. In fact, Sukhothai broke free from Khmer dominance in order to establish the first Siamese capital although it only lasted 100-150 years before being overwhelmed by the Ayutthaya empire.
Then, crossed over into Laos to Luang Prabang -very cool, laidback city where the Lao royal family used to be based, thus there is the Royal Palace. There are also many wats here of unique design and Lao's most famous Buddha the Pha Bang. I also spent an entire day on the Mekong with a Canadian girl that I had met. We hired a boat & driver for the day in order to see some wats in a cave two hours upriver, plus we stopped at a couple villages along the way. On the way back, a group of Lao college students that were friends with our boat driver pulled up beside us and offered a shot of Mekong whiskey. We soon had shut the engines, tied the boats together, and progressed amidst lots of laughter to polish off two bottles amongst the ten of us while slowly drifting down the river as day passed from bright sunny afternoon to dusky early evening.
My trip to Phonsavan was a 9-hour tortuous bus journey through beautiful mountainous landscape. We suffered a late start, a flat tire, a road out, and a landslide - but we eventually made it! I met several people on the bus (2 women from England and a couple from the US). We all decided to stay at the same guesthouse and the next day the 5 of us (w/guide & driver) headed out to the Plain of Jars in an old Soviet Jeep - here, there are some mysterious huge jars (some weigh 6 tons) that likely have been here for 2000 years or more. In addition, this is an area that was bombed continuously by the US for 10 years utnil 1975. So there are craters everywhere, plus the people have used old bombs in everyday things - planters, fencing, houses, etc. Our guide told us some moving stories about when he was a little boy during the war and also that his brother once uncovered a UXO (unexploded ordinance) that damaged his face and arm. As there had been nearly 25 years that had passed, he himself told the story more matter-of-factly. We also had a chance to stop at a Hmong village and a Lao village. As you may imagine, the Lao are the dominant people here in Laos, but the Hmong are a significant minority, especially on the Xieng Khuan plateau (where Phonsavan/Plain of Jars is). These were just regular farming villages, they weren't trying to sell anything and was nice to see how simply the people live.
I decided to fly from Phonsavan to Luang Prabang and was treated to some beautiful sights over the countryside: green mountains, valleys, flowing rivers, and lakes. In Vientiane I had a 1-hour layover and used that time to hire a taxi to drive me around the city so that I could see all the main sights. Then flew to Luang Prabang the late afternoon to find all the electiricty was out so there were candles everywhere during dusk; thus at night dined along the Mekong by candlelight...very peaceful.
I go to Da Nang today and will be disapointed to leave Lao, the smiling people, beautiful scenery, and the wonderful food.
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