M's Big Bad Bangin Chili Recipe

     This blog has MOVED! Check out https://adventuresoffoxintheforest.wordpress.com/ for more adventure and travel ideas!
   
 Fall/winter is one of my favorite cooking seasons for one main reason...crock pot recipes. I'm the kinda gal who can mow down on some chili any time of the year, but there is something special about chili in the cold or during a (Boncos) tailgate. I've included some great substitutions for this basic of all recipes. This one can also easily become paleo perfect as well. Feel free to expand and add your own flavor. Nervous? Just do what feels right...and ya - that's what she said.

These are super detailed instructions - for good reason. If you've never cooked before I promise you that you will be able to make a kick ass chili in several different ways after reading this post.

Recipe after the break

     This blog has MOVED! Check out https://adventuresoffoxintheforest.wordpress.com/ for more adventure and travel ideas!
   
 Fall/winter is one of my favorite cooking seasons for one main reason...crock pot recipes. I'm the kinda gal who can mow down on some chili any time of the year, but there is something special about chili in the cold or during a (Boncos) tailgate. I've included some great substitutions for this basic of all recipes. This one can also easily become paleo perfect as well. Feel free to expand and add your own flavor. Nervous? Just do what feels right...and ya - that's what she said.

These are super detailed instructions - for good reason. If you've never cooked before I promise you that you will be able to make a kick ass chili in several different ways after reading this post.

Recipe after the break

     This blog has MOVED! Check out https://adventuresoffoxintheforest.wordpress.com/ for more adventure and travel ideas!
   
 Fall/winter is one of my favorite cooking seasons for one main reason...crock pot recipes. I'm the kinda gal who can mow down on some chili any time of the year, but there is something special about chili in the cold or during a (Boncos) tailgate. I've included some great substitutions for this basic of all recipes. This one can also easily become paleo perfect as well. Feel free to expand and add your own flavor. Nervous? Just do what feels right...and ya - that's what she said.

These are super detailed instructions - for good reason. If you've never cooked before I promise you that you will be able to make a kick ass chili in several different ways after reading this post.

Recipe after the break

     This blog has MOVED! Check out https://adventuresoffoxintheforest.wordpress.com/ for more adventure and travel ideas!
   
 Fall/winter is one of my favorite cooking seasons for one main reason...crock pot recipes. I'm the kinda gal who can mow down on some chili any time of the year, but there is something special about chili in the cold or during a (Boncos) tailgate. I've included some great substitutions for this basic of all recipes. This one can also easily become paleo perfect as well. Feel free to expand and add your own flavor. Nervous? Just do what feels right...and ya - that's what she said.

These are super detailed instructions - for good reason. If you've never cooked before I promise you that you will be able to make a kick ass chili in several different ways after reading this post.

Recipe after the break

Gift Ideas for the Cook of the House

     As many of you already know, I am a food lover. I believe that food is a great unifier and if you have a kitchen, you have the ability to eat well regardless of income. How? Well giving your food a little TLC goes a long way. When people tell me they can't cook, I believe there is no excuse. Honestly, all you have to do is follow directions and actually give a damn about what you are doing. Sure, there are days when I sloppily put something together, who doesn't? It's no excuse for not knowing how to cook...everyone has the capacity to know how to cook.

     Before I continue to rant on and on, the purpose of this post was to list a few of my favorite cook books that are good for any level of chef-to-be. All of these make great gift ideas whether it be for the food enthusiast, or someone who you know that desperately needs to make an effort.

List after the break

     As many of you already know, I am a food lover. I believe that food is a great unifier and if you have a kitchen, you have the ability to eat well regardless of income. How? Well giving your food a little TLC goes a long way. When people tell me they can't cook, I believe there is no excuse. Honestly, all you have to do is follow directions and actually give a damn about what you are doing. Sure, there are days when I sloppily put something together, who doesn't? It's no excuse for not knowing how to cook...everyone has the capacity to know how to cook.

     Before I continue to rant on and on, the purpose of this post was to list a few of my favorite cook books that are good for any level of chef-to-be. All of these make great gift ideas whether it be for the food enthusiast, or someone who you know that desperately needs to make an effort.

List after the break

     As many of you already know, I am a food lover. I believe that food is a great unifier and if you have a kitchen, you have the ability to eat well regardless of income. How? Well giving your food a little TLC goes a long way. When people tell me they can't cook, I believe there is no excuse. Honestly, all you have to do is follow directions and actually give a damn about what you are doing. Sure, there are days when I sloppily put something together, who doesn't? It's no excuse for not knowing how to cook...everyone has the capacity to know how to cook.

     Before I continue to rant on and on, the purpose of this post was to list a few of my favorite cook books that are good for any level of chef-to-be. All of these make great gift ideas whether it be for the food enthusiast, or someone who you know that desperately needs to make an effort.

List after the break

     As many of you already know, I am a food lover. I believe that food is a great unifier and if you have a kitchen, you have the ability to eat well regardless of income. How? Well giving your food a little TLC goes a long way. When people tell me they can't cook, I believe there is no excuse. Honestly, all you have to do is follow directions and actually give a damn about what you are doing. Sure, there are days when I sloppily put something together, who doesn't? It's no excuse for not knowing how to cook...everyone has the capacity to know how to cook.

     Before I continue to rant on and on, the purpose of this post was to list a few of my favorite cook books that are good for any level of chef-to-be. All of these make great gift ideas whether it be for the food enthusiast, or someone who you know that desperately needs to make an effort.

List after the break

DIY Obsession

     After coming to the realization that I won't be going on any 6 week epic trips anytime soon, I thought I would start writing about other things I am up to. Without jumping on the soap box too much, I'm a strong proponent of DIY. Honestly anyone can do such things if they want to, and the result is something more unique than anything you can find in the store; in fact, it's often times better. Since I have a lot of time on my hands (only so long one can troll the internet and harass contacts for work) I've gotten back into making things. Ah the idle hands of the architecture student can only go un-used for so long. Sounds kinda dirty, but you get what I mean.

     Hopefully I can inspire some of you as well. Re-use is easy, simply take something that is still useful, but you may not use and find a better use for it. In the case of jewelry deconstruct it and use your favorite pieces elsewhere, if it's an old candle, buy some new wicks and melt down the rest of it and re-use it (just don't make some of the mistakes I've made, described below).

     My current obsession has been wrapping things. Wrapping things quickly re-vamps things or add an extra something to a new project and it's easy to do, making it a perfect beginner project. The actual process can seem somewhat tedious, but you can just put on some of your favorite tunes or a TV show to help you pass the time. I have lots of hemp and embroidery floss left over from my friendship bracelet days, and my mom has an extensive under-used collection that I've happily taken advantage of.

A few examples of some projects after the break!

     After coming to the realization that I won't be going on any 6 week epic trips anytime soon, I thought I would start writing about other things I am up to. Without jumping on the soap box too much, I'm a strong proponent of DIY. Honestly anyone can do such things if they want to, and the result is something more unique than anything you can find in the store; in fact, it's often times better. Since I have a lot of time on my hands (only so long one can troll the internet and harass contacts for work) I've gotten back into making things. Ah the idle hands of the architecture student can only go un-used for so long. Sounds kinda dirty, but you get what I mean.

     Hopefully I can inspire some of you as well. Re-use is easy, simply take something that is still useful, but you may not use and find a better use for it. In the case of jewelry deconstruct it and use your favorite pieces elsewhere, if it's an old candle, buy some new wicks and melt down the rest of it and re-use it (just don't make some of the mistakes I've made, described below).

     My current obsession has been wrapping things. Wrapping things quickly re-vamps things or add an extra something to a new project and it's easy to do, making it a perfect beginner project. The actual process can seem somewhat tedious, but you can just put on some of your favorite tunes or a TV show to help you pass the time. I have lots of hemp and embroidery floss left over from my friendship bracelet days, and my mom has an extensive under-used collection that I've happily taken advantage of.

A few examples of some projects after the break!

     After coming to the realization that I won't be going on any 6 week epic trips anytime soon, I thought I would start writing about other things I am up to. Without jumping on the soap box too much, I'm a strong proponent of DIY. Honestly anyone can do such things if they want to, and the result is something more unique than anything you can find in the store; in fact, it's often times better. Since I have a lot of time on my hands (only so long one can troll the internet and harass contacts for work) I've gotten back into making things. Ah the idle hands of the architecture student can only go un-used for so long. Sounds kinda dirty, but you get what I mean.

     Hopefully I can inspire some of you as well. Re-use is easy, simply take something that is still useful, but you may not use and find a better use for it. In the case of jewelry deconstruct it and use your favorite pieces elsewhere, if it's an old candle, buy some new wicks and melt down the rest of it and re-use it (just don't make some of the mistakes I've made, described below).

     My current obsession has been wrapping things. Wrapping things quickly re-vamps things or add an extra something to a new project and it's easy to do, making it a perfect beginner project. The actual process can seem somewhat tedious, but you can just put on some of your favorite tunes or a TV show to help you pass the time. I have lots of hemp and embroidery floss left over from my friendship bracelet days, and my mom has an extensive under-used collection that I've happily taken advantage of.

A few examples of some projects after the break!

     After coming to the realization that I won't be going on any 6 week epic trips anytime soon, I thought I would start writing about other things I am up to. Without jumping on the soap box too much, I'm a strong proponent of DIY. Honestly anyone can do such things if they want to, and the result is something more unique than anything you can find in the store; in fact, it's often times better. Since I have a lot of time on my hands (only so long one can troll the internet and harass contacts for work) I've gotten back into making things. Ah the idle hands of the architecture student can only go un-used for so long. Sounds kinda dirty, but you get what I mean.

     Hopefully I can inspire some of you as well. Re-use is easy, simply take something that is still useful, but you may not use and find a better use for it. In the case of jewelry deconstruct it and use your favorite pieces elsewhere, if it's an old candle, buy some new wicks and melt down the rest of it and re-use it (just don't make some of the mistakes I've made, described below).

     My current obsession has been wrapping things. Wrapping things quickly re-vamps things or add an extra something to a new project and it's easy to do, making it a perfect beginner project. The actual process can seem somewhat tedious, but you can just put on some of your favorite tunes or a TV show to help you pass the time. I have lots of hemp and embroidery floss left over from my friendship bracelet days, and my mom has an extensive under-used collection that I've happily taken advantage of.

A few examples of some projects after the break!

Groove, Jams, ADD, COOKIES!!!

    Well, my finger is healing up nicely, thanks for asking. However, I have recently encountered another problem. Working out while recovering from a cold/mangled digit. In fact, I was much looking forward to getting back to my routine at L'Ru Studios. I was going to buy classes with my newfound birthday money until last Friday happened. Instead I am stuck with a very limited amount of movement make it difficult to even visit the gym upstairs. Oh, but fear not my friends, I didn't sign up to be in the creative industry for nothing...

   When a practical solution doesn't exist, invent one. I have been battling ADD most of my life - oh....look at the sky!! - making things like housework nearly unbearable without some type of distraction, namely music. While MB studied for the bar, this habit translated over to cooking as well; replacing the "family-friendly" cooking conversation into a full fledged dance party complete with headphones.

   Today I spent the day baking various things and cleaning the house - wifey I know. While I'd love to go on about the awesomeness of my oatmeal cookies (recipe found here) I think I'll share some tracks that are essential for what I like to call cook-aerobics-fantasmic-dance-off. NOTE: if you have hard wood floors socks are highly encouraged...the more slide in your step the better.

    I fully endorse any shameless music choices found beyond the break. I spit on musical elitists because I can, I used to be one. Everyone is entitled to their own playlist and anyone who pretends to be above anyone else always has skeletons hidden in their iTunes...don't kid yourselves.

Thank me later....more after the break.

    Well, my finger is healing up nicely, thanks for asking. However, I have recently encountered another problem. Working out while recovering from a cold/mangled digit. In fact, I was much looking forward to getting back to my routine at L'Ru Studios. I was going to buy classes with my newfound birthday money until last Friday happened. Instead I am stuck with a very limited amount of movement make it difficult to even visit the gym upstairs. Oh, but fear not my friends, I didn't sign up to be in the creative industry for nothing...

   When a practical solution doesn't exist, invent one. I have been battling ADD most of my life - oh....look at the sky!! - making things like housework nearly unbearable without some type of distraction, namely music. While MB studied for the bar, this habit translated over to cooking as well; replacing the "family-friendly" cooking conversation into a full fledged dance party complete with headphones.

   Today I spent the day baking various things and cleaning the house - wifey I know. While I'd love to go on about the awesomeness of my oatmeal cookies (recipe found here) I think I'll share some tracks that are essential for what I like to call cook-aerobics-fantasmic-dance-off. NOTE: if you have hard wood floors socks are highly encouraged...the more slide in your step the better.

    I fully endorse any shameless music choices found beyond the break. I spit on musical elitists because I can, I used to be one. Everyone is entitled to their own playlist and anyone who pretends to be above anyone else always has skeletons hidden in their iTunes...don't kid yourselves.

Thank me later....more after the break.

    Well, my finger is healing up nicely, thanks for asking. However, I have recently encountered another problem. Working out while recovering from a cold/mangled digit. In fact, I was much looking forward to getting back to my routine at L'Ru Studios. I was going to buy classes with my newfound birthday money until last Friday happened. Instead I am stuck with a very limited amount of movement make it difficult to even visit the gym upstairs. Oh, but fear not my friends, I didn't sign up to be in the creative industry for nothing...

   When a practical solution doesn't exist, invent one. I have been battling ADD most of my life - oh....look at the sky!! - making things like housework nearly unbearable without some type of distraction, namely music. While MB studied for the bar, this habit translated over to cooking as well; replacing the "family-friendly" cooking conversation into a full fledged dance party complete with headphones.

   Today I spent the day baking various things and cleaning the house - wifey I know. While I'd love to go on about the awesomeness of my oatmeal cookies (recipe found here) I think I'll share some tracks that are essential for what I like to call cook-aerobics-fantasmic-dance-off. NOTE: if you have hard wood floors socks are highly encouraged...the more slide in your step the better.

    I fully endorse any shameless music choices found beyond the break. I spit on musical elitists because I can, I used to be one. Everyone is entitled to their own playlist and anyone who pretends to be above anyone else always has skeletons hidden in their iTunes...don't kid yourselves.

Thank me later....more after the break.

    Well, my finger is healing up nicely, thanks for asking. However, I have recently encountered another problem. Working out while recovering from a cold/mangled digit. In fact, I was much looking forward to getting back to my routine at L'Ru Studios. I was going to buy classes with my newfound birthday money until last Friday happened. Instead I am stuck with a very limited amount of movement make it difficult to even visit the gym upstairs. Oh, but fear not my friends, I didn't sign up to be in the creative industry for nothing...

   When a practical solution doesn't exist, invent one. I have been battling ADD most of my life - oh....look at the sky!! - making things like housework nearly unbearable without some type of distraction, namely music. While MB studied for the bar, this habit translated over to cooking as well; replacing the "family-friendly" cooking conversation into a full fledged dance party complete with headphones.

   Today I spent the day baking various things and cleaning the house - wifey I know. While I'd love to go on about the awesomeness of my oatmeal cookies (recipe found here) I think I'll share some tracks that are essential for what I like to call cook-aerobics-fantasmic-dance-off. NOTE: if you have hard wood floors socks are highly encouraged...the more slide in your step the better.

    I fully endorse any shameless music choices found beyond the break. I spit on musical elitists because I can, I used to be one. Everyone is entitled to their own playlist and anyone who pretends to be above anyone else always has skeletons hidden in their iTunes...don't kid yourselves.

Thank me later....more after the break.

Finger Socks

     Oh hello world. I am feeling oh so cheery today...mmmm sarcasm. I was thinking lately about a post on my recent travels, my refreshing visit to Kansas to visit my dear friend C whom you have all read about during my great Malaysian adventure. I was going to say something about how awesome it feels to see someone who you not only met across the world, but hails from yet another world and now inhabits your own country. Or perhaps I should blog about turning another year older and how I have this false feeling, at the ripe age of 26, of getting old. Maybe even talk about the "awesome" celebration I had...which didn't exist because I spent the day delusional and sick in bed. During that discussion of bodily illness I could just divulge in how I had to run home and take care of my dog that now is on an uber-expensive diet because she could develop bladder stones. No...that doesn't seem to fit either.

    Needless to say, this week was not kind to me. Oh no not at all. Granted, I know my little complaints are nothing compared to what a majority of the population faces every day. However, I wouldn't call being sick on one's birthday, dealing with an ailing pet, or visiting a good friend don't really fall under the umbrella of 'first world problems.' I would consider these things more universal in nature. Now that I've gotten them out there on the "cloud" one would think it would be time to close this post. Boy do I hate the word "cloud" it makes the internet feel quite douchey to be honest. Ah, I digress, yet again, I am really going to write about this fine Friday morning/afternoon. Because there is quite the tale to tell...behold: The Tale of the Exploding Lightbulb.

     Oh hello world. I am feeling oh so cheery today...mmmm sarcasm. I was thinking lately about a post on my recent travels, my refreshing visit to Kansas to visit my dear friend C whom you have all read about during my great Malaysian adventure. I was going to say something about how awesome it feels to see someone who you not only met across the world, but hails from yet another world and now inhabits your own country. Or perhaps I should blog about turning another year older and how I have this false feeling, at the ripe age of 26, of getting old. Maybe even talk about the "awesome" celebration I had...which didn't exist because I spent the day delusional and sick in bed. During that discussion of bodily illness I could just divulge in how I had to run home and take care of my dog that now is on an uber-expensive diet because she could develop bladder stones. No...that doesn't seem to fit either.

    Needless to say, this week was not kind to me. Oh no not at all. Granted, I know my little complaints are nothing compared to what a majority of the population faces every day. However, I wouldn't call being sick on one's birthday, dealing with an ailing pet, or visiting a good friend don't really fall under the umbrella of 'first world problems.' I would consider these things more universal in nature. Now that I've gotten them out there on the "cloud" one would think it would be time to close this post. Boy do I hate the word "cloud" it makes the internet feel quite douchey to be honest. Ah, I digress, yet again, I am really going to write about this fine Friday morning/afternoon. Because there is quite the tale to tell...behold: The Tale of the Exploding Lightbulb.

     Oh hello world. I am feeling oh so cheery today...mmmm sarcasm. I was thinking lately about a post on my recent travels, my refreshing visit to Kansas to visit my dear friend C whom you have all read about during my great Malaysian adventure. I was going to say something about how awesome it feels to see someone who you not only met across the world, but hails from yet another world and now inhabits your own country. Or perhaps I should blog about turning another year older and how I have this false feeling, at the ripe age of 26, of getting old. Maybe even talk about the "awesome" celebration I had...which didn't exist because I spent the day delusional and sick in bed. During that discussion of bodily illness I could just divulge in how I had to run home and take care of my dog that now is on an uber-expensive diet because she could develop bladder stones. No...that doesn't seem to fit either.

    Needless to say, this week was not kind to me. Oh no not at all. Granted, I know my little complaints are nothing compared to what a majority of the population faces every day. However, I wouldn't call being sick on one's birthday, dealing with an ailing pet, or visiting a good friend don't really fall under the umbrella of 'first world problems.' I would consider these things more universal in nature. Now that I've gotten them out there on the "cloud" one would think it would be time to close this post. Boy do I hate the word "cloud" it makes the internet feel quite douchey to be honest. Ah, I digress, yet again, I am really going to write about this fine Friday morning/afternoon. Because there is quite the tale to tell...behold: The Tale of the Exploding Lightbulb.

     Oh hello world. I am feeling oh so cheery today...mmmm sarcasm. I was thinking lately about a post on my recent travels, my refreshing visit to Kansas to visit my dear friend C whom you have all read about during my great Malaysian adventure. I was going to say something about how awesome it feels to see someone who you not only met across the world, but hails from yet another world and now inhabits your own country. Or perhaps I should blog about turning another year older and how I have this false feeling, at the ripe age of 26, of getting old. Maybe even talk about the "awesome" celebration I had...which didn't exist because I spent the day delusional and sick in bed. During that discussion of bodily illness I could just divulge in how I had to run home and take care of my dog that now is on an uber-expensive diet because she could develop bladder stones. No...that doesn't seem to fit either.

    Needless to say, this week was not kind to me. Oh no not at all. Granted, I know my little complaints are nothing compared to what a majority of the population faces every day. However, I wouldn't call being sick on one's birthday, dealing with an ailing pet, or visiting a good friend don't really fall under the umbrella of 'first world problems.' I would consider these things more universal in nature. Now that I've gotten them out there on the "cloud" one would think it would be time to close this post. Boy do I hate the word "cloud" it makes the internet feel quite douchey to be honest. Ah, I digress, yet again, I am really going to write about this fine Friday morning/afternoon. Because there is quite the tale to tell...behold: The Tale of the Exploding Lightbulb.

Funemployment Adventures

     Well I suppose I would like to think I am going on adventures, but alas, life has caught up with me and it is time to get back to business. There is really nothing too 'fun' about funemployment, now that my money has dwindled down to a few pennies and my travel days are over. However, I've chosen to use the word in order to make what is going to be inevitably painful less so.

     Well I suppose I would like to think I am going on adventures, but alas, life has caught up with me and it is time to get back to business. There is really nothing too 'fun' about funemployment, now that my money has dwindled down to a few pennies and my travel days are over. However, I've chosen to use the word in order to make what is going to be inevitably painful less so.

     Well I suppose I would like to think I am going on adventures, but alas, life has caught up with me and it is time to get back to business. There is really nothing too 'fun' about funemployment, now that my money has dwindled down to a few pennies and my travel days are over. However, I've chosen to use the word in order to make what is going to be inevitably painful less so.

     Well I suppose I would like to think I am going on adventures, but alas, life has caught up with me and it is time to get back to business. There is really nothing too 'fun' about funemployment, now that my money has dwindled down to a few pennies and my travel days are over. However, I've chosen to use the word in order to make what is going to be inevitably painful less so.

A few notes post-Asia adventure

     We are finally back on some type of normal schedule. Our current HQ is at my folk's house in Tahoe and we've been here for about a week. Aside from re-teaching our bodies the difference between night and day, we've also been trolling the internet for a place to live back in Denver. I had figured we would be getting ready to leave for good at this point, but alas, a buyer's market means us renters have to put in some extra hours in the housing hunt. We'll be visiting Denver to look at places mid next week. Aside from mission-housing, I came down with a mild cold. Sweet...

     The initial culture shock wasn't anything to write home about. I don't really think we were gone long enough, or the 24hrs of layovers in a comparatively tame Singapore and Hong Kong made the transition back to the west a bit easier. Either that or I'm just not fazed by anything anymore.

     Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like to give some monetary logistics out there for anyone who may be following this blog and plans on doing a similar trip. All in all, from leaving Tahoe to arriving back 43 days later the trip costed around $3K USD. Airfare was a significant chunk, taking up about 2/3 of the cost. Almost 1/3 of that was the trans-world flight. Food, lodging, activities, overland transport, drinking, and shopping cost around $1250 USD each for 6 weeks. We splurged minimally, and in comparison to US prices, didn't splurge at all. In terms of lodging, we didn't stay in complete shit holes or shared dorms (usually between $10-15), but we never paid over $30 a night either (and $30 was expensive!). Keep in mind that this route involved a significant amount of island hopping where 99% of the time a ferry was simply unavailable or completely un-economical in terms of time. If we had stuck to the more traditional overland routes (ie gone to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Singapore, Vietnam, Peninsular Malaysia) the cost could have been lower. However, the other factor that kept us using flights is time. It takes a LOT of time to get around in some of these places, especially if roads aren't in the best condition or if it's anywhere close to monsoon season. For example, the route from Denpasar, Bali to Jogjakarta, Indonesia is roughly 370 miles. Tack on a few more if you just look at roads, so to be fair let's say 450 miles. This is about 90 miles over the distance between where I used to live in Los Angeles and where my parents live in Lake Tahoe. That journey, let's say on a snowy day where there is road trouble, can take anywhere between 10 to 12 hours. In Indonesia that distance takes about 24 hours of actual travel time (excluding overnights and 'layovers'). Keep in mind that Bali doesn't have awful roads, and Java's roads and train systems are significantly better than one would expect. The difference is the speed limit, public transport's affinity for countless stops, and never really running on any type of schedule that makes travel particularly difficult. If you have the money or are sick of 'adventure,' just book a tourist bus between places as they tend to stop less, but keep in mind you will be overcharged way over 200% of what it could cost, which, over time, will add up quickly.

     So let's get on with it...here is yet another list post on the highlights...and not-my-favorite moments of the trip...after the break of course!

     We are finally back on some type of normal schedule. Our current HQ is at my folk's house in Tahoe and we've been here for about a week. Aside from re-teaching our bodies the difference between night and day, we've also been trolling the internet for a place to live back in Denver. I had figured we would be getting ready to leave for good at this point, but alas, a buyer's market means us renters have to put in some extra hours in the housing hunt. We'll be visiting Denver to look at places mid next week. Aside from mission-housing, I came down with a mild cold. Sweet...

     The initial culture shock wasn't anything to write home about. I don't really think we were gone long enough, or the 24hrs of layovers in a comparatively tame Singapore and Hong Kong made the transition back to the west a bit easier. Either that or I'm just not fazed by anything anymore.

     Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like to give some monetary logistics out there for anyone who may be following this blog and plans on doing a similar trip. All in all, from leaving Tahoe to arriving back 43 days later the trip costed around $3K USD. Airfare was a significant chunk, taking up about 2/3 of the cost. Almost 1/3 of that was the trans-world flight. Food, lodging, activities, overland transport, drinking, and shopping cost around $1250 USD each for 6 weeks. We splurged minimally, and in comparison to US prices, didn't splurge at all. In terms of lodging, we didn't stay in complete shit holes or shared dorms (usually between $10-15), but we never paid over $30 a night either (and $30 was expensive!). Keep in mind that this route involved a significant amount of island hopping where 99% of the time a ferry was simply unavailable or completely un-economical in terms of time. If we had stuck to the more traditional overland routes (ie gone to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Singapore, Vietnam, Peninsular Malaysia) the cost could have been lower. However, the other factor that kept us using flights is time. It takes a LOT of time to get around in some of these places, especially if roads aren't in the best condition or if it's anywhere close to monsoon season. For example, the route from Denpasar, Bali to Jogjakarta, Indonesia is roughly 370 miles. Tack on a few more if you just look at roads, so to be fair let's say 450 miles. This is about 90 miles over the distance between where I used to live in Los Angeles and where my parents live in Lake Tahoe. That journey, let's say on a snowy day where there is road trouble, can take anywhere between 10 to 12 hours. In Indonesia that distance takes about 24 hours of actual travel time (excluding overnights and 'layovers'). Keep in mind that Bali doesn't have awful roads, and Java's roads and train systems are significantly better than one would expect. The difference is the speed limit, public transport's affinity for countless stops, and never really running on any type of schedule that makes travel particularly difficult. If you have the money or are sick of 'adventure,' just book a tourist bus between places as they tend to stop less, but keep in mind you will be overcharged way over 200% of what it could cost, which, over time, will add up quickly.

     So let's get on with it...here is yet another list post on the highlights...and not-my-favorite moments of the trip...after the break of course!

     We are finally back on some type of normal schedule. Our current HQ is at my folk's house in Tahoe and we've been here for about a week. Aside from re-teaching our bodies the difference between night and day, we've also been trolling the internet for a place to live back in Denver. I had figured we would be getting ready to leave for good at this point, but alas, a buyer's market means us renters have to put in some extra hours in the housing hunt. We'll be visiting Denver to look at places mid next week. Aside from mission-housing, I came down with a mild cold. Sweet...

     The initial culture shock wasn't anything to write home about. I don't really think we were gone long enough, or the 24hrs of layovers in a comparatively tame Singapore and Hong Kong made the transition back to the west a bit easier. Either that or I'm just not fazed by anything anymore.

     Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like to give some monetary logistics out there for anyone who may be following this blog and plans on doing a similar trip. All in all, from leaving Tahoe to arriving back 43 days later the trip costed around $3K USD. Airfare was a significant chunk, taking up about 2/3 of the cost. Almost 1/3 of that was the trans-world flight. Food, lodging, activities, overland transport, drinking, and shopping cost around $1250 USD each for 6 weeks. We splurged minimally, and in comparison to US prices, didn't splurge at all. In terms of lodging, we didn't stay in complete shit holes or shared dorms (usually between $10-15), but we never paid over $30 a night either (and $30 was expensive!). Keep in mind that this route involved a significant amount of island hopping where 99% of the time a ferry was simply unavailable or completely un-economical in terms of time. If we had stuck to the more traditional overland routes (ie gone to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Singapore, Vietnam, Peninsular Malaysia) the cost could have been lower. However, the other factor that kept us using flights is time. It takes a LOT of time to get around in some of these places, especially if roads aren't in the best condition or if it's anywhere close to monsoon season. For example, the route from Denpasar, Bali to Jogjakarta, Indonesia is roughly 370 miles. Tack on a few more if you just look at roads, so to be fair let's say 450 miles. This is about 90 miles over the distance between where I used to live in Los Angeles and where my parents live in Lake Tahoe. That journey, let's say on a snowy day where there is road trouble, can take anywhere between 10 to 12 hours. In Indonesia that distance takes about 24 hours of actual travel time (excluding overnights and 'layovers'). Keep in mind that Bali doesn't have awful roads, and Java's roads and train systems are significantly better than one would expect. The difference is the speed limit, public transport's affinity for countless stops, and never really running on any type of schedule that makes travel particularly difficult. If you have the money or are sick of 'adventure,' just book a tourist bus between places as they tend to stop less, but keep in mind you will be overcharged way over 200% of what it could cost, which, over time, will add up quickly.

     So let's get on with it...here is yet another list post on the highlights...and not-my-favorite moments of the trip...after the break of course!

     We are finally back on some type of normal schedule. Our current HQ is at my folk's house in Tahoe and we've been here for about a week. Aside from re-teaching our bodies the difference between night and day, we've also been trolling the internet for a place to live back in Denver. I had figured we would be getting ready to leave for good at this point, but alas, a buyer's market means us renters have to put in some extra hours in the housing hunt. We'll be visiting Denver to look at places mid next week. Aside from mission-housing, I came down with a mild cold. Sweet...

     The initial culture shock wasn't anything to write home about. I don't really think we were gone long enough, or the 24hrs of layovers in a comparatively tame Singapore and Hong Kong made the transition back to the west a bit easier. Either that or I'm just not fazed by anything anymore.

     Before I get into the meat of this post, I'd like to give some monetary logistics out there for anyone who may be following this blog and plans on doing a similar trip. All in all, from leaving Tahoe to arriving back 43 days later the trip costed around $3K USD. Airfare was a significant chunk, taking up about 2/3 of the cost. Almost 1/3 of that was the trans-world flight. Food, lodging, activities, overland transport, drinking, and shopping cost around $1250 USD each for 6 weeks. We splurged minimally, and in comparison to US prices, didn't splurge at all. In terms of lodging, we didn't stay in complete shit holes or shared dorms (usually between $10-15), but we never paid over $30 a night either (and $30 was expensive!). Keep in mind that this route involved a significant amount of island hopping where 99% of the time a ferry was simply unavailable or completely un-economical in terms of time. If we had stuck to the more traditional overland routes (ie gone to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Singapore, Vietnam, Peninsular Malaysia) the cost could have been lower. However, the other factor that kept us using flights is time. It takes a LOT of time to get around in some of these places, especially if roads aren't in the best condition or if it's anywhere close to monsoon season. For example, the route from Denpasar, Bali to Jogjakarta, Indonesia is roughly 370 miles. Tack on a few more if you just look at roads, so to be fair let's say 450 miles. This is about 90 miles over the distance between where I used to live in Los Angeles and where my parents live in Lake Tahoe. That journey, let's say on a snowy day where there is road trouble, can take anywhere between 10 to 12 hours. In Indonesia that distance takes about 24 hours of actual travel time (excluding overnights and 'layovers'). Keep in mind that Bali doesn't have awful roads, and Java's roads and train systems are significantly better than one would expect. The difference is the speed limit, public transport's affinity for countless stops, and never really running on any type of schedule that makes travel particularly difficult. If you have the money or are sick of 'adventure,' just book a tourist bus between places as they tend to stop less, but keep in mind you will be overcharged way over 200% of what it could cost, which, over time, will add up quickly.

     So let's get on with it...here is yet another list post on the highlights...and not-my-favorite moments of the trip...after the break of course!

Full Circle

     Back in Hong Kong folks. We are heading for SF in a few hours and it's almost surreal. I'm not quite prepared for an end-of-the-journey post, so I'll save it for later. 

     We left for Singapore and upon arrival had a crab feast with R, M, and R's dad (thanks again papa R!). It was a LOVELY last night in Asia and arguably the greatest meal of the trip. We washed up at R's place and shared a few drinks before catching a few hours of sleep between our next flight. 

   Hong Kong was all about stuffing our face a diner and then resting...lots of resting. We are super thankful for our original host here, R, for taking us in for the day. 

   I'll get back to posting once we've reached Tahoe. 

-M

     Back in Hong Kong folks. We are heading for SF in a few hours and it's almost surreal. I'm not quite prepared for an end-of-the-journey post, so I'll save it for later. 

     We left for Singapore and upon arrival had a crab feast with R, M, and R's dad (thanks again papa R!). It was a LOVELY last night in Asia and arguably the greatest meal of the trip. We washed up at R's place and shared a few drinks before catching a few hours of sleep between our next flight. 

   Hong Kong was all about stuffing our face a diner and then resting...lots of resting. We are super thankful for our original host here, R, for taking us in for the day. 

   I'll get back to posting once we've reached Tahoe. 

-M

     Back in Hong Kong folks. We are heading for SF in a few hours and it's almost surreal. I'm not quite prepared for an end-of-the-journey post, so I'll save it for later. 

     We left for Singapore and upon arrival had a crab feast with R, M, and R's dad (thanks again papa R!). It was a LOVELY last night in Asia and arguably the greatest meal of the trip. We washed up at R's place and shared a few drinks before catching a few hours of sleep between our next flight. 

   Hong Kong was all about stuffing our face a diner and then resting...lots of resting. We are super thankful for our original host here, R, for taking us in for the day. 

   I'll get back to posting once we've reached Tahoe. 

-M

     Back in Hong Kong folks. We are heading for SF in a few hours and it's almost surreal. I'm not quite prepared for an end-of-the-journey post, so I'll save it for later. 

     We left for Singapore and upon arrival had a crab feast with R, M, and R's dad (thanks again papa R!). It was a LOVELY last night in Asia and arguably the greatest meal of the trip. We washed up at R's place and shared a few drinks before catching a few hours of sleep between our next flight. 

   Hong Kong was all about stuffing our face a diner and then resting...lots of resting. We are super thankful for our original host here, R, for taking us in for the day. 

   I'll get back to posting once we've reached Tahoe. 

-M

Show me the Angry Birds

     It took me quite some time to form my opinion of Vietnam. I'm not too sure why, maybe it was because of all the aggressive hassling within the tourism industry. However, after spending almost two weeks here I finally let myself fall in love with the place. Sia Gon (Siagon, or Ho Chi Minh City) was absolutely amazing. It was quickly added to the list of cities I could be an expat in. The hustle and bustle was really no bother. There were trees in the streets, friendly people, and cheap eats. There is more to do in terms of tourism as compared to Hanoi. I would recommend the Cu Chi Tunnels, the war museum, and if you are a fan of French Modernism - the Re-unification Palace. The war sights are depressing, scary, and one sided. However, as an American,  it was important to see because you got insight into why it was so bloody and how a soldier could have became so trigger happy by being forced into a conflict that still has very little explanation as to why we were there in the first place. The guilt will definitely surface, but I was honestly left feeling empty and angry, often asking myself why we do this to each other and what do we really gain in the end?

     We did a day trip into the Mekong. It was a tour, unfortunately, but it was the only way to really get down there with a little time and no local language. But for about $10 US a pop, it was worth it to get on various boats and cruise along the canals and rivers. It's a place I wish I had money for, or at least had a reputable (and findable) eco-tour. Maybe next time.

     I won't bore you anymore with our itinerary, as SE Asia really isn't about the itinerary but who you meet and the experiences you share. We met some amazing people at our last hostel which made me wish that I had the means to continue on traveling. We wandered around some lesser-known areas of the city and caught glimpses of everyday life outside of District 1. However, sharing some beers on a sidewalk under a monsoon sky reminded me of what really matters in life and why I will never stop traveling.

     Once you push through the bull shit of a developing country's tourism industry, Vietnam reveals itself as an enchanting place. I can write, post pictures, and send postcards 'til the cows come home, but the reality is you just had to be there.

-M

    

     It took me quite some time to form my opinion of Vietnam. I'm not too sure why, maybe it was because of all the aggressive hassling within the tourism industry. However, after spending almost two weeks here I finally let myself fall in love with the place. Sia Gon (Siagon, or Ho Chi Minh City) was absolutely amazing. It was quickly added to the list of cities I could be an expat in. The hustle and bustle was really no bother. There were trees in the streets, friendly people, and cheap eats. There is more to do in terms of tourism as compared to Hanoi. I would recommend the Cu Chi Tunnels, the war museum, and if you are a fan of French Modernism - the Re-unification Palace. The war sights are depressing, scary, and one sided. However, as an American,  it was important to see because you got insight into why it was so bloody and how a soldier could have became so trigger happy by being forced into a conflict that still has very little explanation as to why we were there in the first place. The guilt will definitely surface, but I was honestly left feeling empty and angry, often asking myself why we do this to each other and what do we really gain in the end?

     We did a day trip into the Mekong. It was a tour, unfortunately, but it was the only way to really get down there with a little time and no local language. But for about $10 US a pop, it was worth it to get on various boats and cruise along the canals and rivers. It's a place I wish I had money for, or at least had a reputable (and findable) eco-tour. Maybe next time.

     I won't bore you anymore with our itinerary, as SE Asia really isn't about the itinerary but who you meet and the experiences you share. We met some amazing people at our last hostel which made me wish that I had the means to continue on traveling. We wandered around some lesser-known areas of the city and caught glimpses of everyday life outside of District 1. However, sharing some beers on a sidewalk under a monsoon sky reminded me of what really matters in life and why I will never stop traveling.

     Once you push through the bull shit of a developing country's tourism industry, Vietnam reveals itself as an enchanting place. I can write, post pictures, and send postcards 'til the cows come home, but the reality is you just had to be there.

-M

    

     It took me quite some time to form my opinion of Vietnam. I'm not too sure why, maybe it was because of all the aggressive hassling within the tourism industry. However, after spending almost two weeks here I finally let myself fall in love with the place. Sia Gon (Siagon, or Ho Chi Minh City) was absolutely amazing. It was quickly added to the list of cities I could be an expat in. The hustle and bustle was really no bother. There were trees in the streets, friendly people, and cheap eats. There is more to do in terms of tourism as compared to Hanoi. I would recommend the Cu Chi Tunnels, the war museum, and if you are a fan of French Modernism - the Re-unification Palace. The war sights are depressing, scary, and one sided. However, as an American,  it was important to see because you got insight into why it was so bloody and how a soldier could have became so trigger happy by being forced into a conflict that still has very little explanation as to why we were there in the first place. The guilt will definitely surface, but I was honestly left feeling empty and angry, often asking myself why we do this to each other and what do we really gain in the end?

     We did a day trip into the Mekong. It was a tour, unfortunately, but it was the only way to really get down there with a little time and no local language. But for about $10 US a pop, it was worth it to get on various boats and cruise along the canals and rivers. It's a place I wish I had money for, or at least had a reputable (and findable) eco-tour. Maybe next time.

     I won't bore you anymore with our itinerary, as SE Asia really isn't about the itinerary but who you meet and the experiences you share. We met some amazing people at our last hostel which made me wish that I had the means to continue on traveling. We wandered around some lesser-known areas of the city and caught glimpses of everyday life outside of District 1. However, sharing some beers on a sidewalk under a monsoon sky reminded me of what really matters in life and why I will never stop traveling.

     Once you push through the bull shit of a developing country's tourism industry, Vietnam reveals itself as an enchanting place. I can write, post pictures, and send postcards 'til the cows come home, but the reality is you just had to be there.

-M

    

     It took me quite some time to form my opinion of Vietnam. I'm not too sure why, maybe it was because of all the aggressive hassling within the tourism industry. However, after spending almost two weeks here I finally let myself fall in love with the place. Sia Gon (Siagon, or Ho Chi Minh City) was absolutely amazing. It was quickly added to the list of cities I could be an expat in. The hustle and bustle was really no bother. There were trees in the streets, friendly people, and cheap eats. There is more to do in terms of tourism as compared to Hanoi. I would recommend the Cu Chi Tunnels, the war museum, and if you are a fan of French Modernism - the Re-unification Palace. The war sights are depressing, scary, and one sided. However, as an American,  it was important to see because you got insight into why it was so bloody and how a soldier could have became so trigger happy by being forced into a conflict that still has very little explanation as to why we were there in the first place. The guilt will definitely surface, but I was honestly left feeling empty and angry, often asking myself why we do this to each other and what do we really gain in the end?

     We did a day trip into the Mekong. It was a tour, unfortunately, but it was the only way to really get down there with a little time and no local language. But for about $10 US a pop, it was worth it to get on various boats and cruise along the canals and rivers. It's a place I wish I had money for, or at least had a reputable (and findable) eco-tour. Maybe next time.

     I won't bore you anymore with our itinerary, as SE Asia really isn't about the itinerary but who you meet and the experiences you share. We met some amazing people at our last hostel which made me wish that I had the means to continue on traveling. We wandered around some lesser-known areas of the city and caught glimpses of everyday life outside of District 1. However, sharing some beers on a sidewalk under a monsoon sky reminded me of what really matters in life and why I will never stop traveling.

     Once you push through the bull shit of a developing country's tourism industry, Vietnam reveals itself as an enchanting place. I can write, post pictures, and send postcards 'til the cows come home, but the reality is you just had to be there.

-M

    

Same same, but better

     So after about 14 hours of pure rest (with more to follow I'm sure) I'm finally ready to write. Hoi An was really lovely. A tourist trap, yes, but not one that you really care about being in. So you pay $1 instead of $0.50 for food. So there are whitties everywhere and people ask if you want to rent or buy things. Really, compared to what it's like getting out of a train station here this is child's play. The center of town and the surroundings are quaint with some French influence. The place is generally clean and the beach is an easy 20 min ride by bicycle. 

     We stayed in a cute little hotel for around $12 a night. This got us ac, a balcony, western-style shower, wifi, and hot water. A bargain if you ask me. I believe the place was called Phuong Dong, but don't hold me to that. I'll look it up when I get home as I plan on rating all the places I've paid to stay at. It is also worth noting that it is now the low season for tourists here so prices are cheaper and you often get good deals not only on hotels, but tourist attractions as well. 

     We spent time wandering around town, lying around on the beach, and catching up on news back home. The go-go-go portion of the trip is starting to quickly catch up on us and our energy levels are dwindling fast. Not to mention it is hot as crap in the south so the heat of the day really takes it out of you.

     You can also get clothes made here and I got two dresses (one for work and one for play) custom made for very cheap (around $35 total). The quality at the place I used seems legit, and the dress styles aren't too complicated so I can fix them if need be. 

     On the second day I was trolling FB and I saw that one of my close friends from uni posted a picture that looked exactly like the view from the beach I was at earlier that day. It turns out he was in Hoi An with some of his buddies so we met up for the day. It was great to see him, it's been almost three years!

    Him and his buddies showed us some kick ass cheap places to eat. One place sells these amazing thin pancake thingys (not crepes) stuffed with shrimp, been sprouts, and mushrooms. You fold some lettuce in them, wrap them with rice paper and dip them in this sweet and sour sauce. Delicious! We gorged on them our last day before heading to Da Nang for the day.

     Da Nang is a pretty sizable city. The big tourist attractions here consist of uber-luxury resorts that put up huge gates around there properties. This time of year they are literally empty. There is a lot of construction of new uber-resorts which, when the place is empty, seems a bit counter productive. They must make some serious cash though, because they are building more around every corner. We came here for the day for one reason: the Hai Van Pass. It is a canyon road featured in Top Gear (the Vietnam Special...Google it). They did it by motor bike and although I can't quite drive a standard bike, I planned on repeating the journey. 

     Thank goodness we looked at a map when we left the train station because it took us quite some time to find bikes, even just the ocean road. We locked our bags up (not for the faint of heart, the lady literally locks them together and away you go) and left the station. We wandered around until we found a road we recognized and set out to find bikes. We figured, like in Hoi An, there would be a ton of people by the waterfront trying to rent us bikes. This turned out not to be the case and we ended up convincing some hotel to rent us a bike (of course, they said that they wanted us to stay there first). We set out with a general idea of how to get to the pass. The pass is pretty empty these days, as trucks are not allowed on it anymore. Instead they take the tunnel, which doesn't allow motor bikes so you get the picture. We saw a couple of tourist busses, a few tourist cars, and one other couple on bikes aside from locals. The road was AMAZING...read: FABULOUS. They say it is dangerous, which I suppose if it were raining it would be, but I learned to drive on canyon roads, so I felt very comfortable the whole trip. There were more beautiful vistas than I could describe and pictures simply don't do it justice. It was one of those things that was completely worth the effort it took to figure out. Dad, you woulda loved it!

     We went about 3/4 of the way on the road and headed back, as our gas meter wasn't exactly working and I didn't want to risk getting stranded. No worries though, we had trouble anyway. We were almost down the road and we stopped for some water and one last glimpse of the beauty. When we got back to the bike to get it started we had the same problem we had in Bali, the damn starter wasn't working. Luckily for us, we stopped at a view that was a stopping point for most car tours. We got a guide to jump start the bike for us and we continued onwards, making it back with very little trouble. I guess that's what the guy gets for not telling us that the gas meter was broken. 

     We had the rest of the day to kill in Da Nang, which proved to be challenging. It was hotter than ever, we both had parts of us that were sunburnt, I was tired from the drive, and we had about 7 hours to kill. Let's just say you could do this part of the pass with about 5 hours (not 12)...so if you plan on doing it, look it up on Google maps, rent a bike on the beach road to avoid the chaos of the city, and give yourself 6 or 7 hours before your train leaves. We decided to just bounce around from cafe (which means wifi and non-alcoholic drinks...no food) to cafe until we found one that had a good vibe. It turns out it is the one directly across the train station...not something you would expect. This place had a staff around our age working, sold some snacks, and had beer as well so it was a win-win-win. A waiter there sat down and had several conversations with us to practice his english. He was awesome and he was in university to become a tour guide. We enjoyed our various exchanges and he even gave us some free dried shrimp to try (surprisingly good). 

  

   We asked him about good street food and it was the first honest answer we have gotten here. We had fried spring rolls that were then wrapped with lettuce, sprouts and rice paper then dipped in spicy sauce. YUM. After dinner we stocked up on water and snacks for the ten hour train ride to Nha Trang. 

     We've been in Nha Trang for a day and we will be leaving this evening. It's a nice beach town, and we are staying just outside the city, which I would recommend. The beach isn't exactly super clean (although not filthy). If you stay outside of town you can avoid the harassment and see how the locals use the beach (only in the mornings and evenings). We were going to go snorkeling today, as it is supposed to be the best here, but we are running out of money and we haven't slept too well (the lights in the train cabin didn't go off...wtf). Yesterday we went to the hot springs and mud spa. It was a bargain. Round trip and the entrance fee costed us $20 for the both of us. We went around 3pm which was good because the place was emptying out for the day (not that it was too crowded anyway, cuz it's low season). We paid for the shared baths and such, but ended up getting private everything. That was awesome! The mud felt soooo nice and made my skin feel fresh and clean. Much needed after so much sweating and dirty train rides.

     Today we leave at 7pm for Siagon (Ho Chi Minh City). We plan on wandering around the beach areas (even though it's a bit rainy) and getting some food. I'm a bit nervous for Siagon, as it's a huge city and people have said it's  a lot like Hanoi (which I didn't like). However, at least there is more to see there and we will be spending the day in the Mekong Delta. Hopefully we don't run out of money, as we only have a couple hundred between the two of us to get us through Monday afternoon. 

  Time for breakfast! Still missing home and excited to go back to Tahoe in less than a week!

-M

     So after about 14 hours of pure rest (with more to follow I'm sure) I'm finally ready to write. Hoi An was really lovely. A tourist trap, yes, but not one that you really care about being in. So you pay $1 instead of $0.50 for food. So there are whitties everywhere and people ask if you want to rent or buy things. Really, compared to what it's like getting out of a train station here this is child's play. The center of town and the surroundings are quaint with some French influence. The place is generally clean and the beach is an easy 20 min ride by bicycle. 

     We stayed in a cute little hotel for around $12 a night. This got us ac, a balcony, western-style shower, wifi, and hot water. A bargain if you ask me. I believe the place was called Phuong Dong, but don't hold me to that. I'll look it up when I get home as I plan on rating all the places I've paid to stay at. It is also worth noting that it is now the low season for tourists here so prices are cheaper and you often get good deals not only on hotels, but tourist attractions as well. 

     We spent time wandering around town, lying around on the beach, and catching up on news back home. The go-go-go portion of the trip is starting to quickly catch up on us and our energy levels are dwindling fast. Not to mention it is hot as crap in the south so the heat of the day really takes it out of you.

     You can also get clothes made here and I got two dresses (one for work and one for play) custom made for very cheap (around $35 total). The quality at the place I used seems legit, and the dress styles aren't too complicated so I can fix them if need be. 

     On the second day I was trolling FB and I saw that one of my close friends from uni posted a picture that looked exactly like the view from the beach I was at earlier that day. It turns out he was in Hoi An with some of his buddies so we met up for the day. It was great to see him, it's been almost three years!

    Him and his buddies showed us some kick ass cheap places to eat. One place sells these amazing thin pancake thingys (not crepes) stuffed with shrimp, been sprouts, and mushrooms. You fold some lettuce in them, wrap them with rice paper and dip them in this sweet and sour sauce. Delicious! We gorged on them our last day before heading to Da Nang for the day.

     Da Nang is a pretty sizable city. The big tourist attractions here consist of uber-luxury resorts that put up huge gates around there properties. This time of year they are literally empty. There is a lot of construction of new uber-resorts which, when the place is empty, seems a bit counter productive. They must make some serious cash though, because they are building more around every corner. We came here for the day for one reason: the Hai Van Pass. It is a canyon road featured in Top Gear (the Vietnam Special...Google it). They did it by motor bike and although I can't quite drive a standard bike, I planned on repeating the journey. 

     Thank goodness we looked at a map when we left the train station because it took us quite some time to find bikes, even just the ocean road. We locked our bags up (not for the faint of heart, the lady literally locks them together and away you go) and left the station. We wandered around until we found a road we recognized and set out to find bikes. We figured, like in Hoi An, there would be a ton of people by the waterfront trying to rent us bikes. This turned out not to be the case and we ended up convincing some hotel to rent us a bike (of course, they said that they wanted us to stay there first). We set out with a general idea of how to get to the pass. The pass is pretty empty these days, as trucks are not allowed on it anymore. Instead they take the tunnel, which doesn't allow motor bikes so you get the picture. We saw a couple of tourist busses, a few tourist cars, and one other couple on bikes aside from locals. The road was AMAZING...read: FABULOUS. They say it is dangerous, which I suppose if it were raining it would be, but I learned to drive on canyon roads, so I felt very comfortable the whole trip. There were more beautiful vistas than I could describe and pictures simply don't do it justice. It was one of those things that was completely worth the effort it took to figure out. Dad, you woulda loved it!

     We went about 3/4 of the way on the road and headed back, as our gas meter wasn't exactly working and I didn't want to risk getting stranded. No worries though, we had trouble anyway. We were almost down the road and we stopped for some water and one last glimpse of the beauty. When we got back to the bike to get it started we had the same problem we had in Bali, the damn starter wasn't working. Luckily for us, we stopped at a view that was a stopping point for most car tours. We got a guide to jump start the bike for us and we continued onwards, making it back with very little trouble. I guess that's what the guy gets for not telling us that the gas meter was broken. 

     We had the rest of the day to kill in Da Nang, which proved to be challenging. It was hotter than ever, we both had parts of us that were sunburnt, I was tired from the drive, and we had about 7 hours to kill. Let's just say you could do this part of the pass with about 5 hours (not 12)...so if you plan on doing it, look it up on Google maps, rent a bike on the beach road to avoid the chaos of the city, and give yourself 6 or 7 hours before your train leaves. We decided to just bounce around from cafe (which means wifi and non-alcoholic drinks...no food) to cafe until we found one that had a good vibe. It turns out it is the one directly across the train station...not something you would expect. This place had a staff around our age working, sold some snacks, and had beer as well so it was a win-win-win. A waiter there sat down and had several conversations with us to practice his english. He was awesome and he was in university to become a tour guide. We enjoyed our various exchanges and he even gave us some free dried shrimp to try (surprisingly good). 

  

   We asked him about good street food and it was the first honest answer we have gotten here. We had fried spring rolls that were then wrapped with lettuce, sprouts and rice paper then dipped in spicy sauce. YUM. After dinner we stocked up on water and snacks for the ten hour train ride to Nha Trang. 

     We've been in Nha Trang for a day and we will be leaving this evening. It's a nice beach town, and we are staying just outside the city, which I would recommend. The beach isn't exactly super clean (although not filthy). If you stay outside of town you can avoid the harassment and see how the locals use the beach (only in the mornings and evenings). We were going to go snorkeling today, as it is supposed to be the best here, but we are running out of money and we haven't slept too well (the lights in the train cabin didn't go off...wtf). Yesterday we went to the hot springs and mud spa. It was a bargain. Round trip and the entrance fee costed us $20 for the both of us. We went around 3pm which was good because the place was emptying out for the day (not that it was too crowded anyway, cuz it's low season). We paid for the shared baths and such, but ended up getting private everything. That was awesome! The mud felt soooo nice and made my skin feel fresh and clean. Much needed after so much sweating and dirty train rides.

     Today we leave at 7pm for Siagon (Ho Chi Minh City). We plan on wandering around the beach areas (even though it's a bit rainy) and getting some food. I'm a bit nervous for Siagon, as it's a huge city and people have said it's  a lot like Hanoi (which I didn't like). However, at least there is more to see there and we will be spending the day in the Mekong Delta. Hopefully we don't run out of money, as we only have a couple hundred between the two of us to get us through Monday afternoon. 

  Time for breakfast! Still missing home and excited to go back to Tahoe in less than a week!

-M

     So after about 14 hours of pure rest (with more to follow I'm sure) I'm finally ready to write. Hoi An was really lovely. A tourist trap, yes, but not one that you really care about being in. So you pay $1 instead of $0.50 for food. So there are whitties everywhere and people ask if you want to rent or buy things. Really, compared to what it's like getting out of a train station here this is child's play. The center of town and the surroundings are quaint with some French influence. The place is generally clean and the beach is an easy 20 min ride by bicycle. 

     We stayed in a cute little hotel for around $12 a night. This got us ac, a balcony, western-style shower, wifi, and hot water. A bargain if you ask me. I believe the place was called Phuong Dong, but don't hold me to that. I'll look it up when I get home as I plan on rating all the places I've paid to stay at. It is also worth noting that it is now the low season for tourists here so prices are cheaper and you often get good deals not only on hotels, but tourist attractions as well. 

     We spent time wandering around town, lying around on the beach, and catching up on news back home. The go-go-go portion of the trip is starting to quickly catch up on us and our energy levels are dwindling fast. Not to mention it is hot as crap in the south so the heat of the day really takes it out of you.

     You can also get clothes made here and I got two dresses (one for work and one for play) custom made for very cheap (around $35 total). The quality at the place I used seems legit, and the dress styles aren't too complicated so I can fix them if need be. 

     On the second day I was trolling FB and I saw that one of my close friends from uni posted a picture that looked exactly like the view from the beach I was at earlier that day. It turns out he was in Hoi An with some of his buddies so we met up for the day. It was great to see him, it's been almost three years!

    Him and his buddies showed us some kick ass cheap places to eat. One place sells these amazing thin pancake thingys (not crepes) stuffed with shrimp, been sprouts, and mushrooms. You fold some lettuce in them, wrap them with rice paper and dip them in this sweet and sour sauce. Delicious! We gorged on them our last day before heading to Da Nang for the day.

     Da Nang is a pretty sizable city. The big tourist attractions here consist of uber-luxury resorts that put up huge gates around there properties. This time of year they are literally empty. There is a lot of construction of new uber-resorts which, when the place is empty, seems a bit counter productive. They must make some serious cash though, because they are building more around every corner. We came here for the day for one reason: the Hai Van Pass. It is a canyon road featured in Top Gear (the Vietnam Special...Google it). They did it by motor bike and although I can't quite drive a standard bike, I planned on repeating the journey. 

     Thank goodness we looked at a map when we left the train station because it took us quite some time to find bikes, even just the ocean road. We locked our bags up (not for the faint of heart, the lady literally locks them together and away you go) and left the station. We wandered around until we found a road we recognized and set out to find bikes. We figured, like in Hoi An, there would be a ton of people by the waterfront trying to rent us bikes. This turned out not to be the case and we ended up convincing some hotel to rent us a bike (of course, they said that they wanted us to stay there first). We set out with a general idea of how to get to the pass. The pass is pretty empty these days, as trucks are not allowed on it anymore. Instead they take the tunnel, which doesn't allow motor bikes so you get the picture. We saw a couple of tourist busses, a few tourist cars, and one other couple on bikes aside from locals. The road was AMAZING...read: FABULOUS. They say it is dangerous, which I suppose if it were raining it would be, but I learned to drive on canyon roads, so I felt very comfortable the whole trip. There were more beautiful vistas than I could describe and pictures simply don't do it justice. It was one of those things that was completely worth the effort it took to figure out. Dad, you woulda loved it!

     We went about 3/4 of the way on the road and headed back, as our gas meter wasn't exactly working and I didn't want to risk getting stranded. No worries though, we had trouble anyway. We were almost down the road and we stopped for some water and one last glimpse of the beauty. When we got back to the bike to get it started we had the same problem we had in Bali, the damn starter wasn't working. Luckily for us, we stopped at a view that was a stopping point for most car tours. We got a guide to jump start the bike for us and we continued onwards, making it back with very little trouble. I guess that's what the guy gets for not telling us that the gas meter was broken. 

     We had the rest of the day to kill in Da Nang, which proved to be challenging. It was hotter than ever, we both had parts of us that were sunburnt, I was tired from the drive, and we had about 7 hours to kill. Let's just say you could do this part of the pass with about 5 hours (not 12)...so if you plan on doing it, look it up on Google maps, rent a bike on the beach road to avoid the chaos of the city, and give yourself 6 or 7 hours before your train leaves. We decided to just bounce around from cafe (which means wifi and non-alcoholic drinks...no food) to cafe until we found one that had a good vibe. It turns out it is the one directly across the train station...not something you would expect. This place had a staff around our age working, sold some snacks, and had beer as well so it was a win-win-win. A waiter there sat down and had several conversations with us to practice his english. He was awesome and he was in university to become a tour guide. We enjoyed our various exchanges and he even gave us some free dried shrimp to try (surprisingly good). 

  

   We asked him about good street food and it was the first honest answer we have gotten here. We had fried spring rolls that were then wrapped with lettuce, sprouts and rice paper then dipped in spicy sauce. YUM. After dinner we stocked up on water and snacks for the ten hour train ride to Nha Trang. 

     We've been in Nha Trang for a day and we will be leaving this evening. It's a nice beach town, and we are staying just outside the city, which I would recommend. The beach isn't exactly super clean (although not filthy). If you stay outside of town you can avoid the harassment and see how the locals use the beach (only in the mornings and evenings). We were going to go snorkeling today, as it is supposed to be the best here, but we are running out of money and we haven't slept too well (the lights in the train cabin didn't go off...wtf). Yesterday we went to the hot springs and mud spa. It was a bargain. Round trip and the entrance fee costed us $20 for the both of us. We went around 3pm which was good because the place was emptying out for the day (not that it was too crowded anyway, cuz it's low season). We paid for the shared baths and such, but ended up getting private everything. That was awesome! The mud felt soooo nice and made my skin feel fresh and clean. Much needed after so much sweating and dirty train rides.

     Today we leave at 7pm for Siagon (Ho Chi Minh City). We plan on wandering around the beach areas (even though it's a bit rainy) and getting some food. I'm a bit nervous for Siagon, as it's a huge city and people have said it's  a lot like Hanoi (which I didn't like). However, at least there is more to see there and we will be spending the day in the Mekong Delta. Hopefully we don't run out of money, as we only have a couple hundred between the two of us to get us through Monday afternoon. 

  Time for breakfast! Still missing home and excited to go back to Tahoe in less than a week!

-M

     So after about 14 hours of pure rest (with more to follow I'm sure) I'm finally ready to write. Hoi An was really lovely. A tourist trap, yes, but not one that you really care about being in. So you pay $1 instead of $0.50 for food. So there are whitties everywhere and people ask if you want to rent or buy things. Really, compared to what it's like getting out of a train station here this is child's play. The center of town and the surroundings are quaint with some French influence. The place is generally clean and the beach is an easy 20 min ride by bicycle. 

     We stayed in a cute little hotel for around $12 a night. This got us ac, a balcony, western-style shower, wifi, and hot water. A bargain if you ask me. I believe the place was called Phuong Dong, but don't hold me to that. I'll look it up when I get home as I plan on rating all the places I've paid to stay at. It is also worth noting that it is now the low season for tourists here so prices are cheaper and you often get good deals not only on hotels, but tourist attractions as well. 

     We spent time wandering around town, lying around on the beach, and catching up on news back home. The go-go-go portion of the trip is starting to quickly catch up on us and our energy levels are dwindling fast. Not to mention it is hot as crap in the south so the heat of the day really takes it out of you.

     You can also get clothes made here and I got two dresses (one for work and one for play) custom made for very cheap (around $35 total). The quality at the place I used seems legit, and the dress styles aren't too complicated so I can fix them if need be. 

     On the second day I was trolling FB and I saw that one of my close friends from uni posted a picture that looked exactly like the view from the beach I was at earlier that day. It turns out he was in Hoi An with some of his buddies so we met up for the day. It was great to see him, it's been almost three years!

    Him and his buddies showed us some kick ass cheap places to eat. One place sells these amazing thin pancake thingys (not crepes) stuffed with shrimp, been sprouts, and mushrooms. You fold some lettuce in them, wrap them with rice paper and dip them in this sweet and sour sauce. Delicious! We gorged on them our last day before heading to Da Nang for the day.

     Da Nang is a pretty sizable city. The big tourist attractions here consist of uber-luxury resorts that put up huge gates around there properties. This time of year they are literally empty. There is a lot of construction of new uber-resorts which, when the place is empty, seems a bit counter productive. They must make some serious cash though, because they are building more around every corner. We came here for the day for one reason: the Hai Van Pass. It is a canyon road featured in Top Gear (the Vietnam Special...Google it). They did it by motor bike and although I can't quite drive a standard bike, I planned on repeating the journey. 

     Thank goodness we looked at a map when we left the train station because it took us quite some time to find bikes, even just the ocean road. We locked our bags up (not for the faint of heart, the lady literally locks them together and away you go) and left the station. We wandered around until we found a road we recognized and set out to find bikes. We figured, like in Hoi An, there would be a ton of people by the waterfront trying to rent us bikes. This turned out not to be the case and we ended up convincing some hotel to rent us a bike (of course, they said that they wanted us to stay there first). We set out with a general idea of how to get to the pass. The pass is pretty empty these days, as trucks are not allowed on it anymore. Instead they take the tunnel, which doesn't allow motor bikes so you get the picture. We saw a couple of tourist busses, a few tourist cars, and one other couple on bikes aside from locals. The road was AMAZING...read: FABULOUS. They say it is dangerous, which I suppose if it were raining it would be, but I learned to drive on canyon roads, so I felt very comfortable the whole trip. There were more beautiful vistas than I could describe and pictures simply don't do it justice. It was one of those things that was completely worth the effort it took to figure out. Dad, you woulda loved it!

     We went about 3/4 of the way on the road and headed back, as our gas meter wasn't exactly working and I didn't want to risk getting stranded. No worries though, we had trouble anyway. We were almost down the road and we stopped for some water and one last glimpse of the beauty. When we got back to the bike to get it started we had the same problem we had in Bali, the damn starter wasn't working. Luckily for us, we stopped at a view that was a stopping point for most car tours. We got a guide to jump start the bike for us and we continued onwards, making it back with very little trouble. I guess that's what the guy gets for not telling us that the gas meter was broken. 

     We had the rest of the day to kill in Da Nang, which proved to be challenging. It was hotter than ever, we both had parts of us that were sunburnt, I was tired from the drive, and we had about 7 hours to kill. Let's just say you could do this part of the pass with about 5 hours (not 12)...so if you plan on doing it, look it up on Google maps, rent a bike on the beach road to avoid the chaos of the city, and give yourself 6 or 7 hours before your train leaves. We decided to just bounce around from cafe (which means wifi and non-alcoholic drinks...no food) to cafe until we found one that had a good vibe. It turns out it is the one directly across the train station...not something you would expect. This place had a staff around our age working, sold some snacks, and had beer as well so it was a win-win-win. A waiter there sat down and had several conversations with us to practice his english. He was awesome and he was in university to become a tour guide. We enjoyed our various exchanges and he even gave us some free dried shrimp to try (surprisingly good). 

  

   We asked him about good street food and it was the first honest answer we have gotten here. We had fried spring rolls that were then wrapped with lettuce, sprouts and rice paper then dipped in spicy sauce. YUM. After dinner we stocked up on water and snacks for the ten hour train ride to Nha Trang. 

     We've been in Nha Trang for a day and we will be leaving this evening. It's a nice beach town, and we are staying just outside the city, which I would recommend. The beach isn't exactly super clean (although not filthy). If you stay outside of town you can avoid the harassment and see how the locals use the beach (only in the mornings and evenings). We were going to go snorkeling today, as it is supposed to be the best here, but we are running out of money and we haven't slept too well (the lights in the train cabin didn't go off...wtf). Yesterday we went to the hot springs and mud spa. It was a bargain. Round trip and the entrance fee costed us $20 for the both of us. We went around 3pm which was good because the place was emptying out for the day (not that it was too crowded anyway, cuz it's low season). We paid for the shared baths and such, but ended up getting private everything. That was awesome! The mud felt soooo nice and made my skin feel fresh and clean. Much needed after so much sweating and dirty train rides.

     Today we leave at 7pm for Siagon (Ho Chi Minh City). We plan on wandering around the beach areas (even though it's a bit rainy) and getting some food. I'm a bit nervous for Siagon, as it's a huge city and people have said it's  a lot like Hanoi (which I didn't like). However, at least there is more to see there and we will be spending the day in the Mekong Delta. Hopefully we don't run out of money, as we only have a couple hundred between the two of us to get us through Monday afternoon. 

  Time for breakfast! Still missing home and excited to go back to Tahoe in less than a week!

-M

The south at last

I feel like our posts have been a bit negative lately when in fact our spirits are doing quite well. We headed on a night train yesterday to get down south. The night train wasn't too bad. A bit rocky and the toilets were suspect, but the bed was long enough to fit in and there was AC. I like traveling by trains long distances (except in the US, cuz Amtrak is awful). You get to see the country side and kill two birds with one stone (sleep and travel). Moreover, you would never sleep a wink during the night on a bus here, as the driver's hand seems to only rest on the horn and for some reason horns appear to be installed just as loudly on the inside as on the outside. 

We set out for Hue, the old capital. We didn't really plan on staying there (we've heard too many mixed reviews and have rolled the dice a bit too many times), but for some reason booked ourselves there. We clearly weren't thinking when we got the tickets. We spent about an hour in Hue to wait for the next train. This one only had beds as well, although it was 11am and we didn't need to sleep. It was still about 10 bucks total for us to go. Our car chose to stop using the AC and after a certain time (and the windows didn't open). We couldn't take it anymore so we went out into the hallway of train and sat on some kiddy stools for the remainder of the journey.

We met with a local, who turned out to be an architect which was quite cool. We discussed traditional life and the world of architecture and development in Vietnam. I won't bore you with the details though. After a beautiful beach and mountain side journey we made it to Da Nang, shared a ride with some Brits and made it safely to Hoi An. At this point, my expectations for Vietnam were at an all time low, simply due to the first three and half days of trouble and the overwhelming quality of the big city. However, Hoi An has been absolutely lovely. 

They say Hoi An is a tourist trap, but one you don't mind being stuck in. I would have to agree. The stores cater to western styles and touristy things, there are signs for massages, motor bikes, beer, ect. ect. But the thing is, it's a beautiful little town and the people are friendly, even if you don't buy anything. They have their own lives as well, seeing as we are here in the off season. There is a beach nearby with some islands to explore, a riverfront, good street food, and the rooms are clean and cheap. It's a huge relief and we are planning on spending a few days here before heading to Na Trang (sp). 

Anyways, I'm exhausted from the past few days so I'm gunna get going. All is well and I miss everyone back home!

-M

I feel like our posts have been a bit negative lately when in fact our spirits are doing quite well. We headed on a night train yesterday to get down south. The night train wasn't too bad. A bit rocky and the toilets were suspect, but the bed was long enough to fit in and there was AC. I like traveling by trains long distances (except in the US, cuz Amtrak is awful). You get to see the country side and kill two birds with one stone (sleep and travel). Moreover, you would never sleep a wink during the night on a bus here, as the driver's hand seems to only rest on the horn and for some reason horns appear to be installed just as loudly on the inside as on the outside. 

We set out for Hue, the old capital. We didn't really plan on staying there (we've heard too many mixed reviews and have rolled the dice a bit too many times), but for some reason booked ourselves there. We clearly weren't thinking when we got the tickets. We spent about an hour in Hue to wait for the next train. This one only had beds as well, although it was 11am and we didn't need to sleep. It was still about 10 bucks total for us to go. Our car chose to stop using the AC and after a certain time (and the windows didn't open). We couldn't take it anymore so we went out into the hallway of train and sat on some kiddy stools for the remainder of the journey.

We met with a local, who turned out to be an architect which was quite cool. We discussed traditional life and the world of architecture and development in Vietnam. I won't bore you with the details though. After a beautiful beach and mountain side journey we made it to Da Nang, shared a ride with some Brits and made it safely to Hoi An. At this point, my expectations for Vietnam were at an all time low, simply due to the first three and half days of trouble and the overwhelming quality of the big city. However, Hoi An has been absolutely lovely. 

They say Hoi An is a tourist trap, but one you don't mind being stuck in. I would have to agree. The stores cater to western styles and touristy things, there are signs for massages, motor bikes, beer, ect. ect. But the thing is, it's a beautiful little town and the people are friendly, even if you don't buy anything. They have their own lives as well, seeing as we are here in the off season. There is a beach nearby with some islands to explore, a riverfront, good street food, and the rooms are clean and cheap. It's a huge relief and we are planning on spending a few days here before heading to Na Trang (sp). 

Anyways, I'm exhausted from the past few days so I'm gunna get going. All is well and I miss everyone back home!

-M

I feel like our posts have been a bit negative lately when in fact our spirits are doing quite well. We headed on a night train yesterday to get down south. The night train wasn't too bad. A bit rocky and the toilets were suspect, but the bed was long enough to fit in and there was AC. I like traveling by trains long distances (except in the US, cuz Amtrak is awful). You get to see the country side and kill two birds with one stone (sleep and travel). Moreover, you would never sleep a wink during the night on a bus here, as the driver's hand seems to only rest on the horn and for some reason horns appear to be installed just as loudly on the inside as on the outside. 

We set out for Hue, the old capital. We didn't really plan on staying there (we've heard too many mixed reviews and have rolled the dice a bit too many times), but for some reason booked ourselves there. We clearly weren't thinking when we got the tickets. We spent about an hour in Hue to wait for the next train. This one only had beds as well, although it was 11am and we didn't need to sleep. It was still about 10 bucks total for us to go. Our car chose to stop using the AC and after a certain time (and the windows didn't open). We couldn't take it anymore so we went out into the hallway of train and sat on some kiddy stools for the remainder of the journey.

We met with a local, who turned out to be an architect which was quite cool. We discussed traditional life and the world of architecture and development in Vietnam. I won't bore you with the details though. After a beautiful beach and mountain side journey we made it to Da Nang, shared a ride with some Brits and made it safely to Hoi An. At this point, my expectations for Vietnam were at an all time low, simply due to the first three and half days of trouble and the overwhelming quality of the big city. However, Hoi An has been absolutely lovely. 

They say Hoi An is a tourist trap, but one you don't mind being stuck in. I would have to agree. The stores cater to western styles and touristy things, there are signs for massages, motor bikes, beer, ect. ect. But the thing is, it's a beautiful little town and the people are friendly, even if you don't buy anything. They have their own lives as well, seeing as we are here in the off season. There is a beach nearby with some islands to explore, a riverfront, good street food, and the rooms are clean and cheap. It's a huge relief and we are planning on spending a few days here before heading to Na Trang (sp). 

Anyways, I'm exhausted from the past few days so I'm gunna get going. All is well and I miss everyone back home!

-M

I feel like our posts have been a bit negative lately when in fact our spirits are doing quite well. We headed on a night train yesterday to get down south. The night train wasn't too bad. A bit rocky and the toilets were suspect, but the bed was long enough to fit in and there was AC. I like traveling by trains long distances (except in the US, cuz Amtrak is awful). You get to see the country side and kill two birds with one stone (sleep and travel). Moreover, you would never sleep a wink during the night on a bus here, as the driver's hand seems to only rest on the horn and for some reason horns appear to be installed just as loudly on the inside as on the outside. 

We set out for Hue, the old capital. We didn't really plan on staying there (we've heard too many mixed reviews and have rolled the dice a bit too many times), but for some reason booked ourselves there. We clearly weren't thinking when we got the tickets. We spent about an hour in Hue to wait for the next train. This one only had beds as well, although it was 11am and we didn't need to sleep. It was still about 10 bucks total for us to go. Our car chose to stop using the AC and after a certain time (and the windows didn't open). We couldn't take it anymore so we went out into the hallway of train and sat on some kiddy stools for the remainder of the journey.

We met with a local, who turned out to be an architect which was quite cool. We discussed traditional life and the world of architecture and development in Vietnam. I won't bore you with the details though. After a beautiful beach and mountain side journey we made it to Da Nang, shared a ride with some Brits and made it safely to Hoi An. At this point, my expectations for Vietnam were at an all time low, simply due to the first three and half days of trouble and the overwhelming quality of the big city. However, Hoi An has been absolutely lovely. 

They say Hoi An is a tourist trap, but one you don't mind being stuck in. I would have to agree. The stores cater to western styles and touristy things, there are signs for massages, motor bikes, beer, ect. ect. But the thing is, it's a beautiful little town and the people are friendly, even if you don't buy anything. They have their own lives as well, seeing as we are here in the off season. There is a beach nearby with some islands to explore, a riverfront, good street food, and the rooms are clean and cheap. It's a huge relief and we are planning on spending a few days here before heading to Na Trang (sp). 

Anyways, I'm exhausted from the past few days so I'm gunna get going. All is well and I miss everyone back home!

-M

Dear Ha Long Bay

How to do Ha Long Bay for under $60 US Roundtrip!

What you will need:

A blanket

A phone

Someone to help you argue and buy bus tickets

A travel buddy willing to kick scamming ass when needed

You can leave from the My Dinh or whatever the other central station is from Hanoi. This bus ticket should cost you around 100,000VD (or $5 US). The ride should only last about 4 hours, but if you get on a big bus, it will in fact take you forever because the bus driver will drive at around 4mph.  He does this for various reasons: 1. b/c the smart locals call the bus to pick them up after exiting the CF that is the bus station; 2. when driving a bus, one must pick up various sacks of rice and other provisions to drop off to the family en route; and 3. these bus drivers  want to fill the bus to the brim.  

A local will tell you that in order to get a proper bus from My Dinh, one must avoid all individuals and simply go straight to the bus station and buy a ticket inside.  But don't worry, these shady individuals will find you anyway once you buy your ticket and throw you on their bus b/c let's face it, you don't speak Vietnamese and don't know any better.  We are merely sheep being lined up for tourist slaughter.

An excellent and convenient way to get dropped off at Ha Long City is to be pushed off the bus in the middle of a rainy night at the side of the highway.  One might say, wouldn't it make more sense to just drop off the passengers at the center of town?  Nah, that would be too easy.  After all, we are rugged travelers and appreciate a heavy dose of confusion and fear.  When getting dropped off, simply ask, where is the taxi?  The bus driver will likely say, "right there silly, don't you see those moto drivers over there?  Yea, they're going to attempt to scam you."  Can you taste the happiness?

You then agree to the enormous price because it's raining and well where else are you going to go? They insist it is far but still open. Then all of the sudden, after about a mile of driving, the bikes will pull over and tell you that the ferry is closed, but how about a cheap hotel for the night? Oh how sneaky...

In order to ensure that you did get scammed then use your phone to call your local buddy in Hanoi. He will confirm that the ferry is indeed closed, so at least the drivers didn't lie about that. However, now it is time to settle the cost issues. This is where it is helpful to have your travel buddy through a shit fit. Don't let them scam  you by insisting and staring directly at them. It is common at this point that they forget how to speak any english at all, so be prepared for a stand off and don't budge.

Once the crisis of paying 500% too much has been averted it is advisable to find a place to stay. A cheap place, or well any place on the road you will be dropped off may, in fact, appear clean. However, this is far from the case. Be sure to pull back the sheets and inspect the beds to avoid being bit by various creatures in the night. Also, this late in the evening it is difficult to tell if the windows actually close, so be sure to check that as well. If you make the mistake of not checking, then it is advisable to use your sleeping sack to avoid these bites. However, if you don't know if there are bugs, chances are you will find out after already being bitten. 

At this point you have options. You are starving and aggravated. You can choose to up the price of your stay by finding the nearest busiest seafood place and feast, or you can take a gamble at a cheaper, yet completely empty option. I would vote for the former in this case, as it might be the best part of your stay here.

If you come at just the right time, you will wake up for your ferry the next day to find the sky pissing with rain, thus making it next to impossible to see a thing. However, don't cry, you can just walk down to the waterfront with a telephoto lens during a lull in the storm. Your pictures would be just as good if you were on the boat that day anyway, and it's free! 

Now all you have to do is catch a cheap cab ride to the airport, which happens to also house the bus station? This way you can catch a (hopefully) faster bus, although it will be smaller and you won't be able to have enough to leg room if you happen to be over 5 ft tall, but no complaining, it will only cost you $5US.

Please note that Ha Long Bay is a notorious scam artists' paradise. This loosely translates to a different experience for everyone. We got extremely unlucky.

-MV

How to do Ha Long Bay for under $60 US Roundtrip!

What you will need:

A blanket

A phone

Someone to help you argue and buy bus tickets

A travel buddy willing to kick scamming ass when needed

You can leave from the My Dinh or whatever the other central station is from Hanoi. This bus ticket should cost you around 100,000VD (or $5 US). The ride should only last about 4 hours, but if you get on a big bus, it will in fact take you forever because the bus driver will drive at around 4mph.  He does this for various reasons: 1. b/c the smart locals call the bus to pick them up after exiting the CF that is the bus station; 2. when driving a bus, one must pick up various sacks of rice and other provisions to drop off to the family en route; and 3. these bus drivers  want to fill the bus to the brim.  

A local will tell you that in order to get a proper bus from My Dinh, one must avoid all individuals and simply go straight to the bus station and buy a ticket inside.  But don't worry, these shady individuals will find you anyway once you buy your ticket and throw you on their bus b/c let's face it, you don't speak Vietnamese and don't know any better.  We are merely sheep being lined up for tourist slaughter.

An excellent and convenient way to get dropped off at Ha Long City is to be pushed off the bus in the middle of a rainy night at the side of the highway.  One might say, wouldn't it make more sense to just drop off the passengers at the center of town?  Nah, that would be too easy.  After all, we are rugged travelers and appreciate a heavy dose of confusion and fear.  When getting dropped off, simply ask, where is the taxi?  The bus driver will likely say, "right there silly, don't you see those moto drivers over there?  Yea, they're going to attempt to scam you."  Can you taste the happiness?

You then agree to the enormous price because it's raining and well where else are you going to go? They insist it is far but still open. Then all of the sudden, after about a mile of driving, the bikes will pull over and tell you that the ferry is closed, but how about a cheap hotel for the night? Oh how sneaky...

In order to ensure that you did get scammed then use your phone to call your local buddy in Hanoi. He will confirm that the ferry is indeed closed, so at least the drivers didn't lie about that. However, now it is time to settle the cost issues. This is where it is helpful to have your travel buddy through a shit fit. Don't let them scam  you by insisting and staring directly at them. It is common at this point that they forget how to speak any english at all, so be prepared for a stand off and don't budge.

Once the crisis of paying 500% too much has been averted it is advisable to find a place to stay. A cheap place, or well any place on the road you will be dropped off may, in fact, appear clean. However, this is far from the case. Be sure to pull back the sheets and inspect the beds to avoid being bit by various creatures in the night. Also, this late in the evening it is difficult to tell if the windows actually close, so be sure to check that as well. If you make the mistake of not checking, then it is advisable to use your sleeping sack to avoid these bites. However, if you don't know if there are bugs, chances are you will find out after already being bitten. 

At this point you have options. You are starving and aggravated. You can choose to up the price of your stay by finding the nearest busiest seafood place and feast, or you can take a gamble at a cheaper, yet completely empty option. I would vote for the former in this case, as it might be the best part of your stay here.

If you come at just the right time, you will wake up for your ferry the next day to find the sky pissing with rain, thus making it next to impossible to see a thing. However, don't cry, you can just walk down to the waterfront with a telephoto lens during a lull in the storm. Your pictures would be just as good if you were on the boat that day anyway, and it's free! 

Now all you have to do is catch a cheap cab ride to the airport, which happens to also house the bus station? This way you can catch a (hopefully) faster bus, although it will be smaller and you won't be able to have enough to leg room if you happen to be over 5 ft tall, but no complaining, it will only cost you $5US.

Please note that Ha Long Bay is a notorious scam artists' paradise. This loosely translates to a different experience for everyone. We got extremely unlucky.

-MV

How to do Ha Long Bay for under $60 US Roundtrip!

What you will need:

A blanket

A phone

Someone to help you argue and buy bus tickets

A travel buddy willing to kick scamming ass when needed

You can leave from the My Dinh or whatever the other central station is from Hanoi. This bus ticket should cost you around 100,000VD (or $5 US). The ride should only last about 4 hours, but if you get on a big bus, it will in fact take you forever because the bus driver will drive at around 4mph.  He does this for various reasons: 1. b/c the smart locals call the bus to pick them up after exiting the CF that is the bus station; 2. when driving a bus, one must pick up various sacks of rice and other provisions to drop off to the family en route; and 3. these bus drivers  want to fill the bus to the brim.  

A local will tell you that in order to get a proper bus from My Dinh, one must avoid all individuals and simply go straight to the bus station and buy a ticket inside.  But don't worry, these shady individuals will find you anyway once you buy your ticket and throw you on their bus b/c let's face it, you don't speak Vietnamese and don't know any better.  We are merely sheep being lined up for tourist slaughter.

An excellent and convenient way to get dropped off at Ha Long City is to be pushed off the bus in the middle of a rainy night at the side of the highway.  One might say, wouldn't it make more sense to just drop off the passengers at the center of town?  Nah, that would be too easy.  After all, we are rugged travelers and appreciate a heavy dose of confusion and fear.  When getting dropped off, simply ask, where is the taxi?  The bus driver will likely say, "right there silly, don't you see those moto drivers over there?  Yea, they're going to attempt to scam you."  Can you taste the happiness?

You then agree to the enormous price because it's raining and well where else are you going to go? They insist it is far but still open. Then all of the sudden, after about a mile of driving, the bikes will pull over and tell you that the ferry is closed, but how about a cheap hotel for the night? Oh how sneaky...

In order to ensure that you did get scammed then use your phone to call your local buddy in Hanoi. He will confirm that the ferry is indeed closed, so at least the drivers didn't lie about that. However, now it is time to settle the cost issues. This is where it is helpful to have your travel buddy through a shit fit. Don't let them scam  you by insisting and staring directly at them. It is common at this point that they forget how to speak any english at all, so be prepared for a stand off and don't budge.

Once the crisis of paying 500% too much has been averted it is advisable to find a place to stay. A cheap place, or well any place on the road you will be dropped off may, in fact, appear clean. However, this is far from the case. Be sure to pull back the sheets and inspect the beds to avoid being bit by various creatures in the night. Also, this late in the evening it is difficult to tell if the windows actually close, so be sure to check that as well. If you make the mistake of not checking, then it is advisable to use your sleeping sack to avoid these bites. However, if you don't know if there are bugs, chances are you will find out after already being bitten. 

At this point you have options. You are starving and aggravated. You can choose to up the price of your stay by finding the nearest busiest seafood place and feast, or you can take a gamble at a cheaper, yet completely empty option. I would vote for the former in this case, as it might be the best part of your stay here.

If you come at just the right time, you will wake up for your ferry the next day to find the sky pissing with rain, thus making it next to impossible to see a thing. However, don't cry, you can just walk down to the waterfront with a telephoto lens during a lull in the storm. Your pictures would be just as good if you were on the boat that day anyway, and it's free! 

Now all you have to do is catch a cheap cab ride to the airport, which happens to also house the bus station? This way you can catch a (hopefully) faster bus, although it will be smaller and you won't be able to have enough to leg room if you happen to be over 5 ft tall, but no complaining, it will only cost you $5US.

Please note that Ha Long Bay is a notorious scam artists' paradise. This loosely translates to a different experience for everyone. We got extremely unlucky.

-MV

How to do Ha Long Bay for under $60 US Roundtrip!

What you will need:

A blanket

A phone

Someone to help you argue and buy bus tickets

A travel buddy willing to kick scamming ass when needed

You can leave from the My Dinh or whatever the other central station is from Hanoi. This bus ticket should cost you around 100,000VD (or $5 US). The ride should only last about 4 hours, but if you get on a big bus, it will in fact take you forever because the bus driver will drive at around 4mph.  He does this for various reasons: 1. b/c the smart locals call the bus to pick them up after exiting the CF that is the bus station; 2. when driving a bus, one must pick up various sacks of rice and other provisions to drop off to the family en route; and 3. these bus drivers  want to fill the bus to the brim.  

A local will tell you that in order to get a proper bus from My Dinh, one must avoid all individuals and simply go straight to the bus station and buy a ticket inside.  But don't worry, these shady individuals will find you anyway once you buy your ticket and throw you on their bus b/c let's face it, you don't speak Vietnamese and don't know any better.  We are merely sheep being lined up for tourist slaughter.

An excellent and convenient way to get dropped off at Ha Long City is to be pushed off the bus in the middle of a rainy night at the side of the highway.  One might say, wouldn't it make more sense to just drop off the passengers at the center of town?  Nah, that would be too easy.  After all, we are rugged travelers and appreciate a heavy dose of confusion and fear.  When getting dropped off, simply ask, where is the taxi?  The bus driver will likely say, "right there silly, don't you see those moto drivers over there?  Yea, they're going to attempt to scam you."  Can you taste the happiness?

You then agree to the enormous price because it's raining and well where else are you going to go? They insist it is far but still open. Then all of the sudden, after about a mile of driving, the bikes will pull over and tell you that the ferry is closed, but how about a cheap hotel for the night? Oh how sneaky...

In order to ensure that you did get scammed then use your phone to call your local buddy in Hanoi. He will confirm that the ferry is indeed closed, so at least the drivers didn't lie about that. However, now it is time to settle the cost issues. This is where it is helpful to have your travel buddy through a shit fit. Don't let them scam  you by insisting and staring directly at them. It is common at this point that they forget how to speak any english at all, so be prepared for a stand off and don't budge.

Once the crisis of paying 500% too much has been averted it is advisable to find a place to stay. A cheap place, or well any place on the road you will be dropped off may, in fact, appear clean. However, this is far from the case. Be sure to pull back the sheets and inspect the beds to avoid being bit by various creatures in the night. Also, this late in the evening it is difficult to tell if the windows actually close, so be sure to check that as well. If you make the mistake of not checking, then it is advisable to use your sleeping sack to avoid these bites. However, if you don't know if there are bugs, chances are you will find out after already being bitten. 

At this point you have options. You are starving and aggravated. You can choose to up the price of your stay by finding the nearest busiest seafood place and feast, or you can take a gamble at a cheaper, yet completely empty option. I would vote for the former in this case, as it might be the best part of your stay here.

If you come at just the right time, you will wake up for your ferry the next day to find the sky pissing with rain, thus making it next to impossible to see a thing. However, don't cry, you can just walk down to the waterfront with a telephoto lens during a lull in the storm. Your pictures would be just as good if you were on the boat that day anyway, and it's free! 

Now all you have to do is catch a cheap cab ride to the airport, which happens to also house the bus station? This way you can catch a (hopefully) faster bus, although it will be smaller and you won't be able to have enough to leg room if you happen to be over 5 ft tall, but no complaining, it will only cost you $5US.

Please note that Ha Long Bay is a notorious scam artists' paradise. This loosely translates to a different experience for everyone. We got extremely unlucky.

-MV

KL, beep beep, and other nasty things I have eaten

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

Three's a crowd

Three's a crowd

     Sarawak has been my favorite new spot to visit thus far on the trip. Immediately upon landing I knew I would love it. There and Bali have been the two places I have not been ready to leave behind.

     We met up with A, a friend from KL on our second day there and spent all of our nights at the Singgasanah (spelling might be a bit off) Lodge. If you ever venture to Sarawak and choose to stay in Kuching, stay here. The rooms are clean, the bathrooms are clean, the staff is friendly as ever (Mac is awesome), and the place has a great vibe. Cool little rooftop bar/jungle lounge as well.

     I would go through a play by play of what we did and what we saw, but it is one of those places where there is really no point. We hiked some mountains, saw some wildlife, walked around, tried local moonshine (more like wine really), played in the sand, and ate damn well. With only five days to spend there, we hardly scratched the surface. In hindsight I should have opted to stay longer, but decisions were made and it's time for the next chapter of this trip. In the end it's water under the bridge.

     As I sit here staring out the window catching the last glimpses of the island through the tiny oval airplane window I already long to go back. Sarawak and I would guess Borneo in general isn't about the things you see and do, it's about the atmosphere that truly makes it special. The people here share my view on life, respect the world we inhabit and enjoy your time on it. Kuching, and Denver have a lot in common considering the vast distance between them. No matter where you come from or what your background is there is a general attitude of pride in the land (and of course, the food that grows on it). Both cities have a relaxed attitude. Sit down. Slow down. Have a drink and a meal outside. Enjoy the company of good people, good food, and a nice drink. Let the rest of the world hustle on by with its blinders up and earbuds in. This, I can relate to. There were several moments where I would say out loud 'someone just send me my dog and I'll be at home.' 

     We met a few people who live in Kuching and are from various kampungs 

(villages) of indigenous tribes through A. They came to Kuching to work, but unlike most who leave a village for the big city, they enjoy going back. Unfortunately we came at a bad time, as most of A's friends had been back to their village longhouse recently or were too busy to make the journey. It's fine though, because it simply means we will have to go back. We covered only a small section of Sarawak and didn't even make it to Sabah so I'm sure we'll return as soon as 'the man' will let us.

    When I travel to new places I often ask myself how long I could live there. In Sarawak, I couldn't say, but I could see myself getting happily lost in time. Who knows? Maybe someday...

     All of this talk is making me somewhat sad. It's one of those moments where I just want life to be simple. If only we could erase boarders, regulations, debt, societal pressure, and the general funk that has been bogging down my country for the past five years. Today I just want to say 'fuck it' and make my own business somewhere else. Blurg...growing up...

     There is something about this part of the world that I can't let go of. South East Asia is absolutely captivating and I really couldn't care less about how cliche that sounds. In reality, it is like any other place. There are things you hate, things that annoy you, and things that cannot be explained. However there is something beneath the surface that keeps calling me back. Perhaps this is why I travel.

Soaring over the South China Sea,

-M

Three's a crowd

     Sarawak has been my favorite new spot to visit thus far on the trip. Immediately upon landing I knew I would love it. There and Bali have been the two places I have not been ready to leave behind.

     We met up with A, a friend from KL on our second day there and spent all of our nights at the Singgasanah (spelling might be a bit off) Lodge. If you ever venture to Sarawak and choose to stay in Kuching, stay here. The rooms are clean, the bathrooms are clean, the staff is friendly as ever (Mac is awesome), and the place has a great vibe. Cool little rooftop bar/jungle lounge as well.

     I would go through a play by play of what we did and what we saw, but it is one of those places where there is really no point. We hiked some mountains, saw some wildlife, walked around, tried local moonshine (more like wine really), played in the sand, and ate damn well. With only five days to spend there, we hardly scratched the surface. In hindsight I should have opted to stay longer, but decisions were made and it's time for the next chapter of this trip. In the end it's water under the bridge.

     As I sit here staring out the window catching the last glimpses of the island through the tiny oval airplane window I already long to go back. Sarawak and I would guess Borneo in general isn't about the things you see and do, it's about the atmosphere that truly makes it special. The people here share my view on life, respect the world we inhabit and enjoy your time on it. Kuching, and Denver have a lot in common considering the vast distance between them. No matter where you come from or what your background is there is a general attitude of pride in the land (and of course, the food that grows on it). Both cities have a relaxed attitude. Sit down. Slow down. Have a drink and a meal outside. Enjoy the company of good people, good food, and a nice drink. Let the rest of the world hustle on by with its blinders up and earbuds in. This, I can relate to. There were several moments where I would say out loud 'someone just send me my dog and I'll be at home.' 

     We met a few people who live in Kuching and are from various kampungs 

(villages) of indigenous tribes through A. They came to Kuching to work, but unlike most who leave a village for the big city, they enjoy going back. Unfortunately we came at a bad time, as most of A's friends had been back to their village longhouse recently or were too busy to make the journey. It's fine though, because it simply means we will have to go back. We covered only a small section of Sarawak and didn't even make it to Sabah so I'm sure we'll return as soon as 'the man' will let us.

    When I travel to new places I often ask myself how long I could live there. In Sarawak, I couldn't say, but I could see myself getting happily lost in time. Who knows? Maybe someday...

     All of this talk is making me somewhat sad. It's one of those moments where I just want life to be simple. If only we could erase boarders, regulations, debt, societal pressure, and the general funk that has been bogging down my country for the past five years. Today I just want to say 'fuck it' and make my own business somewhere else. Blurg...growing up...

     There is something about this part of the world that I can't let go of. South East Asia is absolutely captivating and I really couldn't care less about how cliche that sounds. In reality, it is like any other place. There are things you hate, things that annoy you, and things that cannot be explained. However there is something beneath the surface that keeps calling me back. Perhaps this is why I travel.

Soaring over the South China Sea,

-M

Three's a crowd

     Sarawak has been my favorite new spot to visit thus far on the trip. Immediately upon landing I knew I would love it. There and Bali have been the two places I have not been ready to leave behind.

     We met up with A, a friend from KL on our second day there and spent all of our nights at the Singgasanah (spelling might be a bit off) Lodge. If you ever venture to Sarawak and choose to stay in Kuching, stay here. The rooms are clean, the bathrooms are clean, the staff is friendly as ever (Mac is awesome), and the place has a great vibe. Cool little rooftop bar/jungle lounge as well.

     I would go through a play by play of what we did and what we saw, but it is one of those places where there is really no point. We hiked some mountains, saw some wildlife, walked around, tried local moonshine (more like wine really), played in the sand, and ate damn well. With only five days to spend there, we hardly scratched the surface. In hindsight I should have opted to stay longer, but decisions were made and it's time for the next chapter of this trip. In the end it's water under the bridge.

     As I sit here staring out the window catching the last glimpses of the island through the tiny oval airplane window I already long to go back. Sarawak and I would guess Borneo in general isn't about the things you see and do, it's about the atmosphere that truly makes it special. The people here share my view on life, respect the world we inhabit and enjoy your time on it. Kuching, and Denver have a lot in common considering the vast distance between them. No matter where you come from or what your background is there is a general attitude of pride in the land (and of course, the food that grows on it). Both cities have a relaxed attitude. Sit down. Slow down. Have a drink and a meal outside. Enjoy the company of good people, good food, and a nice drink. Let the rest of the world hustle on by with its blinders up and earbuds in. This, I can relate to. There were several moments where I would say out loud 'someone just send me my dog and I'll be at home.' 

     We met a few people who live in Kuching and are from various kampungs 

(villages) of indigenous tribes through A. They came to Kuching to work, but unlike most who leave a village for the big city, they enjoy going back. Unfortunately we came at a bad time, as most of A's friends had been back to their village longhouse recently or were too busy to make the journey. It's fine though, because it simply means we will have to go back. We covered only a small section of Sarawak and didn't even make it to Sabah so I'm sure we'll return as soon as 'the man' will let us.

    When I travel to new places I often ask myself how long I could live there. In Sarawak, I couldn't say, but I could see myself getting happily lost in time. Who knows? Maybe someday...

     All of this talk is making me somewhat sad. It's one of those moments where I just want life to be simple. If only we could erase boarders, regulations, debt, societal pressure, and the general funk that has been bogging down my country for the past five years. Today I just want to say 'fuck it' and make my own business somewhere else. Blurg...growing up...

     There is something about this part of the world that I can't let go of. South East Asia is absolutely captivating and I really couldn't care less about how cliche that sounds. In reality, it is like any other place. There are things you hate, things that annoy you, and things that cannot be explained. However there is something beneath the surface that keeps calling me back. Perhaps this is why I travel.

Soaring over the South China Sea,

-M

Three's a crowd

     Sarawak has been my favorite new spot to visit thus far on the trip. Immediately upon landing I knew I would love it. There and Bali have been the two places I have not been ready to leave behind.

     We met up with A, a friend from KL on our second day there and spent all of our nights at the Singgasanah (spelling might be a bit off) Lodge. If you ever venture to Sarawak and choose to stay in Kuching, stay here. The rooms are clean, the bathrooms are clean, the staff is friendly as ever (Mac is awesome), and the place has a great vibe. Cool little rooftop bar/jungle lounge as well.

     I would go through a play by play of what we did and what we saw, but it is one of those places where there is really no point. We hiked some mountains, saw some wildlife, walked around, tried local moonshine (more like wine really), played in the sand, and ate damn well. With only five days to spend there, we hardly scratched the surface. In hindsight I should have opted to stay longer, but decisions were made and it's time for the next chapter of this trip. In the end it's water under the bridge.

     As I sit here staring out the window catching the last glimpses of the island through the tiny oval airplane window I already long to go back. Sarawak and I would guess Borneo in general isn't about the things you see and do, it's about the atmosphere that truly makes it special. The people here share my view on life, respect the world we inhabit and enjoy your time on it. Kuching, and Denver have a lot in common considering the vast distance between them. No matter where you come from or what your background is there is a general attitude of pride in the land (and of course, the food that grows on it). Both cities have a relaxed attitude. Sit down. Slow down. Have a drink and a meal outside. Enjoy the company of good people, good food, and a nice drink. Let the rest of the world hustle on by with its blinders up and earbuds in. This, I can relate to. There were several moments where I would say out loud 'someone just send me my dog and I'll be at home.' 

     We met a few people who live in Kuching and are from various kampungs 

(villages) of indigenous tribes through A. They came to Kuching to work, but unlike most who leave a village for the big city, they enjoy going back. Unfortunately we came at a bad time, as most of A's friends had been back to their village longhouse recently or were too busy to make the journey. It's fine though, because it simply means we will have to go back. We covered only a small section of Sarawak and didn't even make it to Sabah so I'm sure we'll return as soon as 'the man' will let us.

    When I travel to new places I often ask myself how long I could live there. In Sarawak, I couldn't say, but I could see myself getting happily lost in time. Who knows? Maybe someday...

     All of this talk is making me somewhat sad. It's one of those moments where I just want life to be simple. If only we could erase boarders, regulations, debt, societal pressure, and the general funk that has been bogging down my country for the past five years. Today I just want to say 'fuck it' and make my own business somewhere else. Blurg...growing up...

     There is something about this part of the world that I can't let go of. South East Asia is absolutely captivating and I really couldn't care less about how cliche that sounds. In reality, it is like any other place. There are things you hate, things that annoy you, and things that cannot be explained. However there is something beneath the surface that keeps calling me back. Perhaps this is why I travel.

Soaring over the South China Sea,

-M

Anak tetapi PEDAS

     I've decided that using blogger with a tablet is useless, so I'm using my notepad app to write, then transfer the post to the blog...this explains the weird font (that I'm too lazy to change).

     We are now in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo. Today our friend A comes to chill with us in the jungle for a bit. We spent the morning wandering around the city in search of laksa (this was a fail, as all the good places sold out, we were up too late). It's really charming here and I'm thankful for simple luxuries like sidewalks and paved roads.

     Anyways, back to Jogja. After all the intensity it took to get there, and after our first night of chaos and day outside of the city it turned out to be an awesome place. The first day in the city we did the tourist thing, except we didn't go inside of anything, just walked around the city. We did a large loop of about 5 miles. The next day we visited some galleries, as Jogja is known as an artist's town. The art was pretty interesting and forward. You can tell that Jogja is going through an identity crisis. Indonesia as a whole really, but especially Java. There is a tension between the new and the old. What to keep and what to let go of in an age of constant change in a nation that is struggling to keep up with the emerging global nations. This idea was then further solidified when we talked with our host's dad. He was worried about the corruption in Indonesia and he strongly believed that a nation cannot survive on this alone. 

     For the remainder of our time in Java we stayed with P and his family in a typical Javanese home just outside the city. It was a great experience. MB and I had to sleep in separate rooms because the family was a traditional Muslim family. I didn't mind because I got the princess room, his sister's old room. The family had a large house with a few other buildings on the property (more like a compound really). Family, extended family, and close family friends seemed to all bunk there. The place was always bustling. They also ran a catering business out of the front of the house. This not only provided us with excellent eats, but also a chance to go to a traditional Muslim Javanese wedding. 

     There were other surfers there from Germany on the first night of our stay. They were going through Indonesia for 8 weeks. It was cool to hang out with them as well, as it was their first CS experience. Friday night P took us to a food street that served up the best satay in the city. We ate on a sidewalk, which had bamboo carpets stretched across it. You simply ordered and sat (shoes off of course) then ate. We had satay chicken, intestine, cow skin, and snails. It was all really good. I was scared of getting sick at first, because it was only warm satay (this place is popular so they make a lot of it in advance). However, the fear quickly faded as the food was delicious. Out of all the satay I enjoyed the intestine the best, which came as a surprise to me. They also served up a special drink at this place called Kopi Joss. Kopi means coffee and this type of coffee was served hot with a piece of coal in it. Random as hell I know, but it tasted good. I actually had two. I couldn't imagine this type of thing ever catching on in the states, but don't hate it until you try it!

     We met some really cool people from all over. Everyone from Indonesia has been so incredibly friendly. I have yet to find a country where not one person was rude. Even the hawkers aren't too rude, just a bit pushy in Bali. The rest of the gang was heading to karaoke and that was my queue to head home. 

    The next day we wandered around the market near P's house. We bought some fruit and tried a variety of things including fried rice paddy eel and some menthol drink that is supposed to be good for your health. We then walked around a village and got lost in the paddy fields. It was really pretty. P and I had some good conversation about culture and life. His english was outstanding and if he didn't know a word he would ask how to spell it and when to use it. He was much younger than us but it really didn't matter. We both think he'll do great things with his life, he's mature and curious, always a great combo. 

     After the paddy field we washed up and headed into town to get some transport. Yes, this means another motor bike. MB didn't want anything to do with the machine, but he didn't have much of a choice, as this is the way around SE Asia. We rented a bike for 24 hours and headed back to the house. After some down time we got dressed and went with P's mom and brother to some random wedding. 

     The wedding was quite the experience. First, there was no alcohol and no dancing. There was, of course, karaoke. The whole ordeal lasts about 2 hours and the point of it seems to be for everyone they know to come by, take a picture with the bride and groom, and eat. This wedding had 600+ people and this was considered small!  It actually kind of sucks for the couple, they have to stand on this podium type thing and take pictures with all the guests. My face would hurt from smiling so much. We ate the food and it was so crowded that even P needed a break from the madness. Then P and his brother convinced us to get our picture taken with the bride and groom. Other than being mildly embarrassing it was funny to think we would be in some random wedding album on the other side of the globe.

     P left us alone for 3 mins to go and find his lens cap and we immediately got accosted by the groom's father. He wanted to practice his english with us and insisted we go into his home to eat with the family. By this point we were stuffed, so we had some fruit and juice to be polite. He asked us all sorts of questions and spoke a mix of Indonesian and english to us. We found this a lot, there really aren't a lot of tourists outside of a few places in Java, and certainly a lot less Americans. Most people here don't like America as an institution (this goes back to us scamming them into taking their mining resources in the 70s), but they love Obama and they are curious about life in America. Everyone we have encountered, even random people at events and on the street will stop and ask us where we are from. If you are waiting in a line somewhere someone is bound to ask you where you come from. This is usually followed by a question about what you are studying, if you are studying in Indonesia, or what you do for work. Answer any of this using even a word of Indonesian and you will get either a look of surprise or a smile. Indonesian got me quite far in Java. I'm hoping it does something to mend the (sometimes) mis-conception that all Americans are incapable of being courteous about anything non-American, especially in the largest Muslim country in the world. 

     The day after the wedding we awoke before the ass crack of dawn to drive the 30 miles or so to Borobodur, an old Buddhist temple complex, to watch the sunrise. The drive was cold in the early am. It was wild zooming through the towns while listening to the morning call to prayer wax and wane from passing mosques. We arrived just before sun-up and the gate to the entrance P knew about was closed. No problem, he said, we'll just hop the fence. And we did. As we giggled and boasted about not having to pay the exorbitant fee foreigners have to pay to get in. The celebration was cut short when we found another gate, this time guarded by security guys. They told us that sun rise was actually twice the price. We laughed and walked away, there was no way I was paying $40US for that. Then the guards changed their minds and decided to let us in for the regular price of $18 (still expensive!!!). We wanted to save some cash for the airport, so we offered to pay in US dollars. When the guards wouldn't take the US money we knew what had happened. We pulled out what we had (about $8US short of the actual listed price of the ticket) and bribed our way into the temple. The sunrise was gorgeous and worth the adventure.

     After wandering around the temple we headed out to get some makanan (food). We ate at this tiny, but very busy, roadside stall. I hade guedeg (stewed jackfruit and rice) with some tofu. It was soooo tasty! We took the long road home through the village backroads and enjoyed some great views. We then decided to return the bike (we didn't want to push our luck with accidents) in town. We were told to take a bus back to P's house, but this bus decided that they would only run one that day and it took forever. After waiting about an hour and having yet another Indo-lish (Indonesian/english) conversation we gave up and started the 10 km trek back to P's. After about 2 mins of walking the bus, of course, showed up. The guy was yelling to us out of the bus door and we figured our new-found roadside auto-mechanic friend had told them to pick us up. We hopped on and headed back to P's. 

     After some much needed R&R we tried to wander out to P's aunt's place, but there was some type of meeting going on at the house so we had to greet a bunch of people. I learned the Muslim greeting 'salim' (the Indo way to say salam). In Indo it is common to great someone by shaking their hand and then touching your heart. The same goes when you say goodbye. There was a lot of hand shaking and a few words exchanged. At P's aunt's house, the chicken farm, we watched all the chickens and tried a variety of fruits, cookies, sambal, and snacks. Don't expect to go hungry when staying with the Javanese. You will always be greeted with some finger foods and drink (usually water, coffee, or tea). We watched the little kids run around, then watched the sunset over the paddies. For dinner we had what was the spiciest food in the world, we went to a sambal bar. Sambal, for those not in the know, is essentially hand-ground chillies with various spices and veggies added in. It's eaten with rice and some type of meat or veg of your choosing. It was the spiciest meal I've ever had. I was dying..but damn was it good!

     All in all, Java kicked our ass, but it also treated us with some unique experiences in Jogja. I'm really glad we went there, despite what it took to get around. Java really made me appreciate the simple things and it opened my mind to so many new experiences and ideas. I wouldn't recommend it to the faint of heart, but if you're looking for adventure Java is one of the friendliest places I have ever had the opportunity to experience.

-M

     

     I've decided that using blogger with a tablet is useless, so I'm using my notepad app to write, then transfer the post to the blog...this explains the weird font (that I'm too lazy to change).

     We are now in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo. Today our friend A comes to chill with us in the jungle for a bit. We spent the morning wandering around the city in search of laksa (this was a fail, as all the good places sold out, we were up too late). It's really charming here and I'm thankful for simple luxuries like sidewalks and paved roads.

     Anyways, back to Jogja. After all the intensity it took to get there, and after our first night of chaos and day outside of the city it turned out to be an awesome place. The first day in the city we did the tourist thing, except we didn't go inside of anything, just walked around the city. We did a large loop of about 5 miles. The next day we visited some galleries, as Jogja is known as an artist's town. The art was pretty interesting and forward. You can tell that Jogja is going through an identity crisis. Indonesia as a whole really, but especially Java. There is a tension between the new and the old. What to keep and what to let go of in an age of constant change in a nation that is struggling to keep up with the emerging global nations. This idea was then further solidified when we talked with our host's dad. He was worried about the corruption in Indonesia and he strongly believed that a nation cannot survive on this alone. 

     For the remainder of our time in Java we stayed with P and his family in a typical Javanese home just outside the city. It was a great experience. MB and I had to sleep in separate rooms because the family was a traditional Muslim family. I didn't mind because I got the princess room, his sister's old room. The family had a large house with a few other buildings on the property (more like a compound really). Family, extended family, and close family friends seemed to all bunk there. The place was always bustling. They also ran a catering business out of the front of the house. This not only provided us with excellent eats, but also a chance to go to a traditional Muslim Javanese wedding. 

     There were other surfers there from Germany on the first night of our stay. They were going through Indonesia for 8 weeks. It was cool to hang out with them as well, as it was their first CS experience. Friday night P took us to a food street that served up the best satay in the city. We ate on a sidewalk, which had bamboo carpets stretched across it. You simply ordered and sat (shoes off of course) then ate. We had satay chicken, intestine, cow skin, and snails. It was all really good. I was scared of getting sick at first, because it was only warm satay (this place is popular so they make a lot of it in advance). However, the fear quickly faded as the food was delicious. Out of all the satay I enjoyed the intestine the best, which came as a surprise to me. They also served up a special drink at this place called Kopi Joss. Kopi means coffee and this type of coffee was served hot with a piece of coal in it. Random as hell I know, but it tasted good. I actually had two. I couldn't imagine this type of thing ever catching on in the states, but don't hate it until you try it!

     We met some really cool people from all over. Everyone from Indonesia has been so incredibly friendly. I have yet to find a country where not one person was rude. Even the hawkers aren't too rude, just a bit pushy in Bali. The rest of the gang was heading to karaoke and that was my queue to head home. 

    The next day we wandered around the market near P's house. We bought some fruit and tried a variety of things including fried rice paddy eel and some menthol drink that is supposed to be good for your health. We then walked around a village and got lost in the paddy fields. It was really pretty. P and I had some good conversation about culture and life. His english was outstanding and if he didn't know a word he would ask how to spell it and when to use it. He was much younger than us but it really didn't matter. We both think he'll do great things with his life, he's mature and curious, always a great combo. 

     After the paddy field we washed up and headed into town to get some transport. Yes, this means another motor bike. MB didn't want anything to do with the machine, but he didn't have much of a choice, as this is the way around SE Asia. We rented a bike for 24 hours and headed back to the house. After some down time we got dressed and went with P's mom and brother to some random wedding. 

     The wedding was quite the experience. First, there was no alcohol and no dancing. There was, of course, karaoke. The whole ordeal lasts about 2 hours and the point of it seems to be for everyone they know to come by, take a picture with the bride and groom, and eat. This wedding had 600+ people and this was considered small!  It actually kind of sucks for the couple, they have to stand on this podium type thing and take pictures with all the guests. My face would hurt from smiling so much. We ate the food and it was so crowded that even P needed a break from the madness. Then P and his brother convinced us to get our picture taken with the bride and groom. Other than being mildly embarrassing it was funny to think we would be in some random wedding album on the other side of the globe.

     P left us alone for 3 mins to go and find his lens cap and we immediately got accosted by the groom's father. He wanted to practice his english with us and insisted we go into his home to eat with the family. By this point we were stuffed, so we had some fruit and juice to be polite. He asked us all sorts of questions and spoke a mix of Indonesian and english to us. We found this a lot, there really aren't a lot of tourists outside of a few places in Java, and certainly a lot less Americans. Most people here don't like America as an institution (this goes back to us scamming them into taking their mining resources in the 70s), but they love Obama and they are curious about life in America. Everyone we have encountered, even random people at events and on the street will stop and ask us where we are from. If you are waiting in a line somewhere someone is bound to ask you where you come from. This is usually followed by a question about what you are studying, if you are studying in Indonesia, or what you do for work. Answer any of this using even a word of Indonesian and you will get either a look of surprise or a smile. Indonesian got me quite far in Java. I'm hoping it does something to mend the (sometimes) mis-conception that all Americans are incapable of being courteous about anything non-American, especially in the largest Muslim country in the world. 

     The day after the wedding we awoke before the ass crack of dawn to drive the 30 miles or so to Borobodur, an old Buddhist temple complex, to watch the sunrise. The drive was cold in the early am. It was wild zooming through the towns while listening to the morning call to prayer wax and wane from passing mosques. We arrived just before sun-up and the gate to the entrance P knew about was closed. No problem, he said, we'll just hop the fence. And we did. As we giggled and boasted about not having to pay the exorbitant fee foreigners have to pay to get in. The celebration was cut short when we found another gate, this time guarded by security guys. They told us that sun rise was actually twice the price. We laughed and walked away, there was no way I was paying $40US for that. Then the guards changed their minds and decided to let us in for the regular price of $18 (still expensive!!!). We wanted to save some cash for the airport, so we offered to pay in US dollars. When the guards wouldn't take the US money we knew what had happened. We pulled out what we had (about $8US short of the actual listed price of the ticket) and bribed our way into the temple. The sunrise was gorgeous and worth the adventure.

     After wandering around the temple we headed out to get some makanan (food). We ate at this tiny, but very busy, roadside stall. I hade guedeg (stewed jackfruit and rice) with some tofu. It was soooo tasty! We took the long road home through the village backroads and enjoyed some great views. We then decided to return the bike (we didn't want to push our luck with accidents) in town. We were told to take a bus back to P's house, but this bus decided that they would only run one that day and it took forever. After waiting about an hour and having yet another Indo-lish (Indonesian/english) conversation we gave up and started the 10 km trek back to P's. After about 2 mins of walking the bus, of course, showed up. The guy was yelling to us out of the bus door and we figured our new-found roadside auto-mechanic friend had told them to pick us up. We hopped on and headed back to P's. 

     After some much needed R&R we tried to wander out to P's aunt's place, but there was some type of meeting going on at the house so we had to greet a bunch of people. I learned the Muslim greeting 'salim' (the Indo way to say salam). In Indo it is common to great someone by shaking their hand and then touching your heart. The same goes when you say goodbye. There was a lot of hand shaking and a few words exchanged. At P's aunt's house, the chicken farm, we watched all the chickens and tried a variety of fruits, cookies, sambal, and snacks. Don't expect to go hungry when staying with the Javanese. You will always be greeted with some finger foods and drink (usually water, coffee, or tea). We watched the little kids run around, then watched the sunset over the paddies. For dinner we had what was the spiciest food in the world, we went to a sambal bar. Sambal, for those not in the know, is essentially hand-ground chillies with various spices and veggies added in. It's eaten with rice and some type of meat or veg of your choosing. It was the spiciest meal I've ever had. I was dying..but damn was it good!

     All in all, Java kicked our ass, but it also treated us with some unique experiences in Jogja. I'm really glad we went there, despite what it took to get around. Java really made me appreciate the simple things and it opened my mind to so many new experiences and ideas. I wouldn't recommend it to the faint of heart, but if you're looking for adventure Java is one of the friendliest places I have ever had the opportunity to experience.

-M

     

     I've decided that using blogger with a tablet is useless, so I'm using my notepad app to write, then transfer the post to the blog...this explains the weird font (that I'm too lazy to change).

     We are now in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo. Today our friend A comes to chill with us in the jungle for a bit. We spent the morning wandering around the city in search of laksa (this was a fail, as all the good places sold out, we were up too late). It's really charming here and I'm thankful for simple luxuries like sidewalks and paved roads.

     Anyways, back to Jogja. After all the intensity it took to get there, and after our first night of chaos and day outside of the city it turned out to be an awesome place. The first day in the city we did the tourist thing, except we didn't go inside of anything, just walked around the city. We did a large loop of about 5 miles. The next day we visited some galleries, as Jogja is known as an artist's town. The art was pretty interesting and forward. You can tell that Jogja is going through an identity crisis. Indonesia as a whole really, but especially Java. There is a tension between the new and the old. What to keep and what to let go of in an age of constant change in a nation that is struggling to keep up with the emerging global nations. This idea was then further solidified when we talked with our host's dad. He was worried about the corruption in Indonesia and he strongly believed that a nation cannot survive on this alone. 

     For the remainder of our time in Java we stayed with P and his family in a typical Javanese home just outside the city. It was a great experience. MB and I had to sleep in separate rooms because the family was a traditional Muslim family. I didn't mind because I got the princess room, his sister's old room. The family had a large house with a few other buildings on the property (more like a compound really). Family, extended family, and close family friends seemed to all bunk there. The place was always bustling. They also ran a catering business out of the front of the house. This not only provided us with excellent eats, but also a chance to go to a traditional Muslim Javanese wedding. 

     There were other surfers there from Germany on the first night of our stay. They were going through Indonesia for 8 weeks. It was cool to hang out with them as well, as it was their first CS experience. Friday night P took us to a food street that served up the best satay in the city. We ate on a sidewalk, which had bamboo carpets stretched across it. You simply ordered and sat (shoes off of course) then ate. We had satay chicken, intestine, cow skin, and snails. It was all really good. I was scared of getting sick at first, because it was only warm satay (this place is popular so they make a lot of it in advance). However, the fear quickly faded as the food was delicious. Out of all the satay I enjoyed the intestine the best, which came as a surprise to me. They also served up a special drink at this place called Kopi Joss. Kopi means coffee and this type of coffee was served hot with a piece of coal in it. Random as hell I know, but it tasted good. I actually had two. I couldn't imagine this type of thing ever catching on in the states, but don't hate it until you try it!

     We met some really cool people from all over. Everyone from Indonesia has been so incredibly friendly. I have yet to find a country where not one person was rude. Even the hawkers aren't too rude, just a bit pushy in Bali. The rest of the gang was heading to karaoke and that was my queue to head home. 

    The next day we wandered around the market near P's house. We bought some fruit and tried a variety of things including fried rice paddy eel and some menthol drink that is supposed to be good for your health. We then walked around a village and got lost in the paddy fields. It was really pretty. P and I had some good conversation about culture and life. His english was outstanding and if he didn't know a word he would ask how to spell it and when to use it. He was much younger than us but it really didn't matter. We both think he'll do great things with his life, he's mature and curious, always a great combo. 

     After the paddy field we washed up and headed into town to get some transport. Yes, this means another motor bike. MB didn't want anything to do with the machine, but he didn't have much of a choice, as this is the way around SE Asia. We rented a bike for 24 hours and headed back to the house. After some down time we got dressed and went with P's mom and brother to some random wedding. 

     The wedding was quite the experience. First, there was no alcohol and no dancing. There was, of course, karaoke. The whole ordeal lasts about 2 hours and the point of it seems to be for everyone they know to come by, take a picture with the bride and groom, and eat. This wedding had 600+ people and this was considered small!  It actually kind of sucks for the couple, they have to stand on this podium type thing and take pictures with all the guests. My face would hurt from smiling so much. We ate the food and it was so crowded that even P needed a break from the madness. Then P and his brother convinced us to get our picture taken with the bride and groom. Other than being mildly embarrassing it was funny to think we would be in some random wedding album on the other side of the globe.

     P left us alone for 3 mins to go and find his lens cap and we immediately got accosted by the groom's father. He wanted to practice his english with us and insisted we go into his home to eat with the family. By this point we were stuffed, so we had some fruit and juice to be polite. He asked us all sorts of questions and spoke a mix of Indonesian and english to us. We found this a lot, there really aren't a lot of tourists outside of a few places in Java, and certainly a lot less Americans. Most people here don't like America as an institution (this goes back to us scamming them into taking their mining resources in the 70s), but they love Obama and they are curious about life in America. Everyone we have encountered, even random people at events and on the street will stop and ask us where we are from. If you are waiting in a line somewhere someone is bound to ask you where you come from. This is usually followed by a question about what you are studying, if you are studying in Indonesia, or what you do for work. Answer any of this using even a word of Indonesian and you will get either a look of surprise or a smile. Indonesian got me quite far in Java. I'm hoping it does something to mend the (sometimes) mis-conception that all Americans are incapable of being courteous about anything non-American, especially in the largest Muslim country in the world. 

     The day after the wedding we awoke before the ass crack of dawn to drive the 30 miles or so to Borobodur, an old Buddhist temple complex, to watch the sunrise. The drive was cold in the early am. It was wild zooming through the towns while listening to the morning call to prayer wax and wane from passing mosques. We arrived just before sun-up and the gate to the entrance P knew about was closed. No problem, he said, we'll just hop the fence. And we did. As we giggled and boasted about not having to pay the exorbitant fee foreigners have to pay to get in. The celebration was cut short when we found another gate, this time guarded by security guys. They told us that sun rise was actually twice the price. We laughed and walked away, there was no way I was paying $40US for that. Then the guards changed their minds and decided to let us in for the regular price of $18 (still expensive!!!). We wanted to save some cash for the airport, so we offered to pay in US dollars. When the guards wouldn't take the US money we knew what had happened. We pulled out what we had (about $8US short of the actual listed price of the ticket) and bribed our way into the temple. The sunrise was gorgeous and worth the adventure.

     After wandering around the temple we headed out to get some makanan (food). We ate at this tiny, but very busy, roadside stall. I hade guedeg (stewed jackfruit and rice) with some tofu. It was soooo tasty! We took the long road home through the village backroads and enjoyed some great views. We then decided to return the bike (we didn't want to push our luck with accidents) in town. We were told to take a bus back to P's house, but this bus decided that they would only run one that day and it took forever. After waiting about an hour and having yet another Indo-lish (Indonesian/english) conversation we gave up and started the 10 km trek back to P's. After about 2 mins of walking the bus, of course, showed up. The guy was yelling to us out of the bus door and we figured our new-found roadside auto-mechanic friend had told them to pick us up. We hopped on and headed back to P's. 

     After some much needed R&R we tried to wander out to P's aunt's place, but there was some type of meeting going on at the house so we had to greet a bunch of people. I learned the Muslim greeting 'salim' (the Indo way to say salam). In Indo it is common to great someone by shaking their hand and then touching your heart. The same goes when you say goodbye. There was a lot of hand shaking and a few words exchanged. At P's aunt's house, the chicken farm, we watched all the chickens and tried a variety of fruits, cookies, sambal, and snacks. Don't expect to go hungry when staying with the Javanese. You will always be greeted with some finger foods and drink (usually water, coffee, or tea). We watched the little kids run around, then watched the sunset over the paddies. For dinner we had what was the spiciest food in the world, we went to a sambal bar. Sambal, for those not in the know, is essentially hand-ground chillies with various spices and veggies added in. It's eaten with rice and some type of meat or veg of your choosing. It was the spiciest meal I've ever had. I was dying..but damn was it good!

     All in all, Java kicked our ass, but it also treated us with some unique experiences in Jogja. I'm really glad we went there, despite what it took to get around. Java really made me appreciate the simple things and it opened my mind to so many new experiences and ideas. I wouldn't recommend it to the faint of heart, but if you're looking for adventure Java is one of the friendliest places I have ever had the opportunity to experience.

-M

     

     I've decided that using blogger with a tablet is useless, so I'm using my notepad app to write, then transfer the post to the blog...this explains the weird font (that I'm too lazy to change).

     We are now in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo. Today our friend A comes to chill with us in the jungle for a bit. We spent the morning wandering around the city in search of laksa (this was a fail, as all the good places sold out, we were up too late). It's really charming here and I'm thankful for simple luxuries like sidewalks and paved roads.

     Anyways, back to Jogja. After all the intensity it took to get there, and after our first night of chaos and day outside of the city it turned out to be an awesome place. The first day in the city we did the tourist thing, except we didn't go inside of anything, just walked around the city. We did a large loop of about 5 miles. The next day we visited some galleries, as Jogja is known as an artist's town. The art was pretty interesting and forward. You can tell that Jogja is going through an identity crisis. Indonesia as a whole really, but especially Java. There is a tension between the new and the old. What to keep and what to let go of in an age of constant change in a nation that is struggling to keep up with the emerging global nations. This idea was then further solidified when we talked with our host's dad. He was worried about the corruption in Indonesia and he strongly believed that a nation cannot survive on this alone. 

     For the remainder of our time in Java we stayed with P and his family in a typical Javanese home just outside the city. It was a great experience. MB and I had to sleep in separate rooms because the family was a traditional Muslim family. I didn't mind because I got the princess room, his sister's old room. The family had a large house with a few other buildings on the property (more like a compound really). Family, extended family, and close family friends seemed to all bunk there. The place was always bustling. They also ran a catering business out of the front of the house. This not only provided us with excellent eats, but also a chance to go to a traditional Muslim Javanese wedding. 

     There were other surfers there from Germany on the first night of our stay. They were going through Indonesia for 8 weeks. It was cool to hang out with them as well, as it was their first CS experience. Friday night P took us to a food street that served up the best satay in the city. We ate on a sidewalk, which had bamboo carpets stretched across it. You simply ordered and sat (shoes off of course) then ate. We had satay chicken, intestine, cow skin, and snails. It was all really good. I was scared of getting sick at first, because it was only warm satay (this place is popular so they make a lot of it in advance). However, the fear quickly faded as the food was delicious. Out of all the satay I enjoyed the intestine the best, which came as a surprise to me. They also served up a special drink at this place called Kopi Joss. Kopi means coffee and this type of coffee was served hot with a piece of coal in it. Random as hell I know, but it tasted good. I actually had two. I couldn't imagine this type of thing ever catching on in the states, but don't hate it until you try it!

     We met some really cool people from all over. Everyone from Indonesia has been so incredibly friendly. I have yet to find a country where not one person was rude. Even the hawkers aren't too rude, just a bit pushy in Bali. The rest of the gang was heading to karaoke and that was my queue to head home. 

    The next day we wandered around the market near P's house. We bought some fruit and tried a variety of things including fried rice paddy eel and some menthol drink that is supposed to be good for your health. We then walked around a village and got lost in the paddy fields. It was really pretty. P and I had some good conversation about culture and life. His english was outstanding and if he didn't know a word he would ask how to spell it and when to use it. He was much younger than us but it really didn't matter. We both think he'll do great things with his life, he's mature and curious, always a great combo. 

     After the paddy field we washed up and headed into town to get some transport. Yes, this means another motor bike. MB didn't want anything to do with the machine, but he didn't have much of a choice, as this is the way around SE Asia. We rented a bike for 24 hours and headed back to the house. After some down time we got dressed and went with P's mom and brother to some random wedding. 

     The wedding was quite the experience. First, there was no alcohol and no dancing. There was, of course, karaoke. The whole ordeal lasts about 2 hours and the point of it seems to be for everyone they know to come by, take a picture with the bride and groom, and eat. This wedding had 600+ people and this was considered small!  It actually kind of sucks for the couple, they have to stand on this podium type thing and take pictures with all the guests. My face would hurt from smiling so much. We ate the food and it was so crowded that even P needed a break from the madness. Then P and his brother convinced us to get our picture taken with the bride and groom. Other than being mildly embarrassing it was funny to think we would be in some random wedding album on the other side of the globe.

     P left us alone for 3 mins to go and find his lens cap and we immediately got accosted by the groom's father. He wanted to practice his english with us and insisted we go into his home to eat with the family. By this point we were stuffed, so we had some fruit and juice to be polite. He asked us all sorts of questions and spoke a mix of Indonesian and english to us. We found this a lot, there really aren't a lot of tourists outside of a few places in Java, and certainly a lot less Americans. Most people here don't like America as an institution (this goes back to us scamming them into taking their mining resources in the 70s), but they love Obama and they are curious about life in America. Everyone we have encountered, even random people at events and on the street will stop and ask us where we are from. If you are waiting in a line somewhere someone is bound to ask you where you come from. This is usually followed by a question about what you are studying, if you are studying in Indonesia, or what you do for work. Answer any of this using even a word of Indonesian and you will get either a look of surprise or a smile. Indonesian got me quite far in Java. I'm hoping it does something to mend the (sometimes) mis-conception that all Americans are incapable of being courteous about anything non-American, especially in the largest Muslim country in the world. 

     The day after the wedding we awoke before the ass crack of dawn to drive the 30 miles or so to Borobodur, an old Buddhist temple complex, to watch the sunrise. The drive was cold in the early am. It was wild zooming through the towns while listening to the morning call to prayer wax and wane from passing mosques. We arrived just before sun-up and the gate to the entrance P knew about was closed. No problem, he said, we'll just hop the fence. And we did. As we giggled and boasted about not having to pay the exorbitant fee foreigners have to pay to get in. The celebration was cut short when we found another gate, this time guarded by security guys. They told us that sun rise was actually twice the price. We laughed and walked away, there was no way I was paying $40US for that. Then the guards changed their minds and decided to let us in for the regular price of $18 (still expensive!!!). We wanted to save some cash for the airport, so we offered to pay in US dollars. When the guards wouldn't take the US money we knew what had happened. We pulled out what we had (about $8US short of the actual listed price of the ticket) and bribed our way into the temple. The sunrise was gorgeous and worth the adventure.

     After wandering around the temple we headed out to get some makanan (food). We ate at this tiny, but very busy, roadside stall. I hade guedeg (stewed jackfruit and rice) with some tofu. It was soooo tasty! We took the long road home through the village backroads and enjoyed some great views. We then decided to return the bike (we didn't want to push our luck with accidents) in town. We were told to take a bus back to P's house, but this bus decided that they would only run one that day and it took forever. After waiting about an hour and having yet another Indo-lish (Indonesian/english) conversation we gave up and started the 10 km trek back to P's. After about 2 mins of walking the bus, of course, showed up. The guy was yelling to us out of the bus door and we figured our new-found roadside auto-mechanic friend had told them to pick us up. We hopped on and headed back to P's. 

     After some much needed R&R we tried to wander out to P's aunt's place, but there was some type of meeting going on at the house so we had to greet a bunch of people. I learned the Muslim greeting 'salim' (the Indo way to say salam). In Indo it is common to great someone by shaking their hand and then touching your heart. The same goes when you say goodbye. There was a lot of hand shaking and a few words exchanged. At P's aunt's house, the chicken farm, we watched all the chickens and tried a variety of fruits, cookies, sambal, and snacks. Don't expect to go hungry when staying with the Javanese. You will always be greeted with some finger foods and drink (usually water, coffee, or tea). We watched the little kids run around, then watched the sunset over the paddies. For dinner we had what was the spiciest food in the world, we went to a sambal bar. Sambal, for those not in the know, is essentially hand-ground chillies with various spices and veggies added in. It's eaten with rice and some type of meat or veg of your choosing. It was the spiciest meal I've ever had. I was dying..but damn was it good!

     All in all, Java kicked our ass, but it also treated us with some unique experiences in Jogja. I'm really glad we went there, despite what it took to get around. Java really made me appreciate the simple things and it opened my mind to so many new experiences and ideas. I wouldn't recommend it to the faint of heart, but if you're looking for adventure Java is one of the friendliest places I have ever had the opportunity to experience.

-M

     

I'm showering with buckets of cold water...

     Broadcasting live from ViaVia cafe in Jogja! We finally made it, but it was NOT easy. In fact, our celebration on the train was cut short upon arrival in Jogjakarta. Readers take note: DO NOT TRAVEL TO INDO (except maybe Bali or Papua) AFTER RAMADAN. The books somewhat fail to mention this. They mention that getting transport immediatly after Ramadan can be tough. They also mention that during Ramadan Indo is sleepy. What they DON'T say is that everyone and their pet bird travels somewhere...apparently this year's choice was here.

     I tried to book a hotel on the train, armed with about 7 different numbers, but the guy who sold me my SIM card failed to mention there was about IDR 500 on it (literally, five cents US). Once we got into Jogja, at about 9pm, we went to the tourist informasi booth to try to find a place to stay. Everything was booked. I mean EVERYTHING. The boss there (if you ever need help, ask for Eric) called up every place he knew of within our budget and little over. Booked. Full. The only place he could find was about 15mls outside the city in a "village" (I would say town) near the Prambanan temple. We wanted to see the temple so we agreed. It was IDR 300,000 for a cold shower, fan, and bunk beds...this is about $30US and REALLY overpriced. I mean REALLY overpriced. In fact, every place to stay and every tourist attraction is about 200% higher than it normally is because of the holiday. Thanks for mentioning that Lonely Planet (LP is a piece of crap btw...don't use it). But we sucked it up and paid because the train station was too loud to even attempt to nap in.

     After about 5 hours of sleep our neighbors decided to let all 6 of their young kids out to play outside of our room. WTF. Honestly, one of the most rude things I've ever experienced. I donno how many of them were in that room, but I saw at least 8 pairs of shoes. So, reluctantly, we arose and went to the free 'breakfast.' This consisted of half-heartedly fried rice and noodles with boiled eggs that had been sitting out for wayyyy too long. I couldn't finish it. Fortunately some toast arrived and we had a few more pieces of bread. However, we had been living off of bread and bread products for two whole days and it was the last thing we wanted to throw down the hatch.

     Before we headed out to the temple we decided to take a stroll around the property. We turned the courner from our nice garden area to what we thought would be a nice, relaxing pool, but was, in fact, a full blown water park straight out of the 50s. Already stuffed to the brim with people. This, at least, explained the kids. We immediately ran away and went to the lobby to use the internet. Luckily we found a place in town to stay in that claimed to have AC and a 'western shower' (the ac was fine, and unless a western shower is a wash basin with a bucket to dump water on your head, then this was a lie). We didn't care because it had air con, a big bed, space, and wasn't filled with loud children. They need to dust the corners of the place though, but whatever. It was also cheaper than Indo Water World.

     The Prambanan temple was quite impressive. I would have enjoyed it much more if I wasn't shuffeled from what I thought was the ticket line twice to the "western" ticket line. The price went from about $1USD to $18 for us whities. This REALLY bothered me. Just because I'm white does not mean I'm made of money and this was not the price any of the books or webpages had posted. They claimed it was because of Hari Raya, but still...what...the...fuck. We sucked it up and paid because it would have been a loss not to go. It was really crowded, but they let you wander around anywhere so it was easy to lose the crowds. We went up to the main entrance to the temples and immediately got accosted by a bunch of Indonesians on holiday wanting to take a picture. We thought they wanted us to take a picture of them, but in fact, they wanted their kids, elders, whomever to get in a picture with us. I found this pretty hilarious, but given what we saw by the overland route here, these people have probably never met a white person before. They were all extremely friendly and thanked us by shaking our hands and touching their hearts (this is a traditional Muslim gesture). They asked our names and asked where we were from. We returned the questions and it was actually a pretty charming exchange.

     It has actually been helpful being American here. They love Obama and don't get very many of us in Java. This, combined with knowing some Indonesian has gotten us a lot of friendly, honest help that I really appreciate considering how difficult it is to get around in these parts. Aside from the room rates and posted prices I don't feel like I'm getting ripped off everwhere. Taxis use their meters and we walk just about everywhere so that may have something to do with it.

     I would love to continue to write and talk about our day wandering around Jogja, but blogger has yet again bugged out on me and skips everytime I type a letter so I'm going to stop here for fear that I might get a seizure. Today we are going to stay at a CS host's house until Monday. I look forward to some local input on the place.

Eating decently well now and having a good time.

-M

     Broadcasting live from ViaVia cafe in Jogja! We finally made it, but it was NOT easy. In fact, our celebration on the train was cut short upon arrival in Jogjakarta. Readers take note: DO NOT TRAVEL TO INDO (except maybe Bali or Papua) AFTER RAMADAN. The books somewhat fail to mention this. They mention that getting transport immediatly after Ramadan can be tough. They also mention that during Ramadan Indo is sleepy. What they DON'T say is that everyone and their pet bird travels somewhere...apparently this year's choice was here.

     I tried to book a hotel on the train, armed with about 7 different numbers, but the guy who sold me my SIM card failed to mention there was about IDR 500 on it (literally, five cents US). Once we got into Jogja, at about 9pm, we went to the tourist informasi booth to try to find a place to stay. Everything was booked. I mean EVERYTHING. The boss there (if you ever need help, ask for Eric) called up every place he knew of within our budget and little over. Booked. Full. The only place he could find was about 15mls outside the city in a "village" (I would say town) near the Prambanan temple. We wanted to see the temple so we agreed. It was IDR 300,000 for a cold shower, fan, and bunk beds...this is about $30US and REALLY overpriced. I mean REALLY overpriced. In fact, every place to stay and every tourist attraction is about 200% higher than it normally is because of the holiday. Thanks for mentioning that Lonely Planet (LP is a piece of crap btw...don't use it). But we sucked it up and paid because the train station was too loud to even attempt to nap in.

     After about 5 hours of sleep our neighbors decided to let all 6 of their young kids out to play outside of our room. WTF. Honestly, one of the most rude things I've ever experienced. I donno how many of them were in that room, but I saw at least 8 pairs of shoes. So, reluctantly, we arose and went to the free 'breakfast.' This consisted of half-heartedly fried rice and noodles with boiled eggs that had been sitting out for wayyyy too long. I couldn't finish it. Fortunately some toast arrived and we had a few more pieces of bread. However, we had been living off of bread and bread products for two whole days and it was the last thing we wanted to throw down the hatch.

     Before we headed out to the temple we decided to take a stroll around the property. We turned the courner from our nice garden area to what we thought would be a nice, relaxing pool, but was, in fact, a full blown water park straight out of the 50s. Already stuffed to the brim with people. This, at least, explained the kids. We immediately ran away and went to the lobby to use the internet. Luckily we found a place in town to stay in that claimed to have AC and a 'western shower' (the ac was fine, and unless a western shower is a wash basin with a bucket to dump water on your head, then this was a lie). We didn't care because it had air con, a big bed, space, and wasn't filled with loud children. They need to dust the corners of the place though, but whatever. It was also cheaper than Indo Water World.

     The Prambanan temple was quite impressive. I would have enjoyed it much more if I wasn't shuffeled from what I thought was the ticket line twice to the "western" ticket line. The price went from about $1USD to $18 for us whities. This REALLY bothered me. Just because I'm white does not mean I'm made of money and this was not the price any of the books or webpages had posted. They claimed it was because of Hari Raya, but still...what...the...fuck. We sucked it up and paid because it would have been a loss not to go. It was really crowded, but they let you wander around anywhere so it was easy to lose the crowds. We went up to the main entrance to the temples and immediately got accosted by a bunch of Indonesians on holiday wanting to take a picture. We thought they wanted us to take a picture of them, but in fact, they wanted their kids, elders, whomever to get in a picture with us. I found this pretty hilarious, but given what we saw by the overland route here, these people have probably never met a white person before. They were all extremely friendly and thanked us by shaking our hands and touching their hearts (this is a traditional Muslim gesture). They asked our names and asked where we were from. We returned the questions and it was actually a pretty charming exchange.

     It has actually been helpful being American here. They love Obama and don't get very many of us in Java. This, combined with knowing some Indonesian has gotten us a lot of friendly, honest help that I really appreciate considering how difficult it is to get around in these parts. Aside from the room rates and posted prices I don't feel like I'm getting ripped off everwhere. Taxis use their meters and we walk just about everywhere so that may have something to do with it.

     I would love to continue to write and talk about our day wandering around Jogja, but blogger has yet again bugged out on me and skips everytime I type a letter so I'm going to stop here for fear that I might get a seizure. Today we are going to stay at a CS host's house until Monday. I look forward to some local input on the place.

Eating decently well now and having a good time.

-M

     Broadcasting live from ViaVia cafe in Jogja! We finally made it, but it was NOT easy. In fact, our celebration on the train was cut short upon arrival in Jogjakarta. Readers take note: DO NOT TRAVEL TO INDO (except maybe Bali or Papua) AFTER RAMADAN. The books somewhat fail to mention this. They mention that getting transport immediatly after Ramadan can be tough. They also mention that during Ramadan Indo is sleepy. What they DON'T say is that everyone and their pet bird travels somewhere...apparently this year's choice was here.

     I tried to book a hotel on the train, armed with about 7 different numbers, but the guy who sold me my SIM card failed to mention there was about IDR 500 on it (literally, five cents US). Once we got into Jogja, at about 9pm, we went to the tourist informasi booth to try to find a place to stay. Everything was booked. I mean EVERYTHING. The boss there (if you ever need help, ask for Eric) called up every place he knew of within our budget and little over. Booked. Full. The only place he could find was about 15mls outside the city in a "village" (I would say town) near the Prambanan temple. We wanted to see the temple so we agreed. It was IDR 300,000 for a cold shower, fan, and bunk beds...this is about $30US and REALLY overpriced. I mean REALLY overpriced. In fact, every place to stay and every tourist attraction is about 200% higher than it normally is because of the holiday. Thanks for mentioning that Lonely Planet (LP is a piece of crap btw...don't use it). But we sucked it up and paid because the train station was too loud to even attempt to nap in.

     After about 5 hours of sleep our neighbors decided to let all 6 of their young kids out to play outside of our room. WTF. Honestly, one of the most rude things I've ever experienced. I donno how many of them were in that room, but I saw at least 8 pairs of shoes. So, reluctantly, we arose and went to the free 'breakfast.' This consisted of half-heartedly fried rice and noodles with boiled eggs that had been sitting out for wayyyy too long. I couldn't finish it. Fortunately some toast arrived and we had a few more pieces of bread. However, we had been living off of bread and bread products for two whole days and it was the last thing we wanted to throw down the hatch.

     Before we headed out to the temple we decided to take a stroll around the property. We turned the courner from our nice garden area to what we thought would be a nice, relaxing pool, but was, in fact, a full blown water park straight out of the 50s. Already stuffed to the brim with people. This, at least, explained the kids. We immediately ran away and went to the lobby to use the internet. Luckily we found a place in town to stay in that claimed to have AC and a 'western shower' (the ac was fine, and unless a western shower is a wash basin with a bucket to dump water on your head, then this was a lie). We didn't care because it had air con, a big bed, space, and wasn't filled with loud children. They need to dust the corners of the place though, but whatever. It was also cheaper than Indo Water World.

     The Prambanan temple was quite impressive. I would have enjoyed it much more if I wasn't shuffeled from what I thought was the ticket line twice to the "western" ticket line. The price went from about $1USD to $18 for us whities. This REALLY bothered me. Just because I'm white does not mean I'm made of money and this was not the price any of the books or webpages had posted. They claimed it was because of Hari Raya, but still...what...the...fuck. We sucked it up and paid because it would have been a loss not to go. It was really crowded, but they let you wander around anywhere so it was easy to lose the crowds. We went up to the main entrance to the temples and immediately got accosted by a bunch of Indonesians on holiday wanting to take a picture. We thought they wanted us to take a picture of them, but in fact, they wanted their kids, elders, whomever to get in a picture with us. I found this pretty hilarious, but given what we saw by the overland route here, these people have probably never met a white person before. They were all extremely friendly and thanked us by shaking our hands and touching their hearts (this is a traditional Muslim gesture). They asked our names and asked where we were from. We returned the questions and it was actually a pretty charming exchange.

     It has actually been helpful being American here. They love Obama and don't get very many of us in Java. This, combined with knowing some Indonesian has gotten us a lot of friendly, honest help that I really appreciate considering how difficult it is to get around in these parts. Aside from the room rates and posted prices I don't feel like I'm getting ripped off everwhere. Taxis use their meters and we walk just about everywhere so that may have something to do with it.

     I would love to continue to write and talk about our day wandering around Jogja, but blogger has yet again bugged out on me and skips everytime I type a letter so I'm going to stop here for fear that I might get a seizure. Today we are going to stay at a CS host's house until Monday. I look forward to some local input on the place.

Eating decently well now and having a good time.

-M

     Broadcasting live from ViaVia cafe in Jogja! We finally made it, but it was NOT easy. In fact, our celebration on the train was cut short upon arrival in Jogjakarta. Readers take note: DO NOT TRAVEL TO INDO (except maybe Bali or Papua) AFTER RAMADAN. The books somewhat fail to mention this. They mention that getting transport immediatly after Ramadan can be tough. They also mention that during Ramadan Indo is sleepy. What they DON'T say is that everyone and their pet bird travels somewhere...apparently this year's choice was here.

     I tried to book a hotel on the train, armed with about 7 different numbers, but the guy who sold me my SIM card failed to mention there was about IDR 500 on it (literally, five cents US). Once we got into Jogja, at about 9pm, we went to the tourist informasi booth to try to find a place to stay. Everything was booked. I mean EVERYTHING. The boss there (if you ever need help, ask for Eric) called up every place he knew of within our budget and little over. Booked. Full. The only place he could find was about 15mls outside the city in a "village" (I would say town) near the Prambanan temple. We wanted to see the temple so we agreed. It was IDR 300,000 for a cold shower, fan, and bunk beds...this is about $30US and REALLY overpriced. I mean REALLY overpriced. In fact, every place to stay and every tourist attraction is about 200% higher than it normally is because of the holiday. Thanks for mentioning that Lonely Planet (LP is a piece of crap btw...don't use it). But we sucked it up and paid because the train station was too loud to even attempt to nap in.

     After about 5 hours of sleep our neighbors decided to let all 6 of their young kids out to play outside of our room. WTF. Honestly, one of the most rude things I've ever experienced. I donno how many of them were in that room, but I saw at least 8 pairs of shoes. So, reluctantly, we arose and went to the free 'breakfast.' This consisted of half-heartedly fried rice and noodles with boiled eggs that had been sitting out for wayyyy too long. I couldn't finish it. Fortunately some toast arrived and we had a few more pieces of bread. However, we had been living off of bread and bread products for two whole days and it was the last thing we wanted to throw down the hatch.

     Before we headed out to the temple we decided to take a stroll around the property. We turned the courner from our nice garden area to what we thought would be a nice, relaxing pool, but was, in fact, a full blown water park straight out of the 50s. Already stuffed to the brim with people. This, at least, explained the kids. We immediately ran away and went to the lobby to use the internet. Luckily we found a place in town to stay in that claimed to have AC and a 'western shower' (the ac was fine, and unless a western shower is a wash basin with a bucket to dump water on your head, then this was a lie). We didn't care because it had air con, a big bed, space, and wasn't filled with loud children. They need to dust the corners of the place though, but whatever. It was also cheaper than Indo Water World.

     The Prambanan temple was quite impressive. I would have enjoyed it much more if I wasn't shuffeled from what I thought was the ticket line twice to the "western" ticket line. The price went from about $1USD to $18 for us whities. This REALLY bothered me. Just because I'm white does not mean I'm made of money and this was not the price any of the books or webpages had posted. They claimed it was because of Hari Raya, but still...what...the...fuck. We sucked it up and paid because it would have been a loss not to go. It was really crowded, but they let you wander around anywhere so it was easy to lose the crowds. We went up to the main entrance to the temples and immediately got accosted by a bunch of Indonesians on holiday wanting to take a picture. We thought they wanted us to take a picture of them, but in fact, they wanted their kids, elders, whomever to get in a picture with us. I found this pretty hilarious, but given what we saw by the overland route here, these people have probably never met a white person before. They were all extremely friendly and thanked us by shaking our hands and touching their hearts (this is a traditional Muslim gesture). They asked our names and asked where we were from. We returned the questions and it was actually a pretty charming exchange.

     It has actually been helpful being American here. They love Obama and don't get very many of us in Java. This, combined with knowing some Indonesian has gotten us a lot of friendly, honest help that I really appreciate considering how difficult it is to get around in these parts. Aside from the room rates and posted prices I don't feel like I'm getting ripped off everwhere. Taxis use their meters and we walk just about everywhere so that may have something to do with it.

     I would love to continue to write and talk about our day wandering around Jogja, but blogger has yet again bugged out on me and skips everytime I type a letter so I'm going to stop here for fear that I might get a seizure. Today we are going to stay at a CS host's house until Monday. I look forward to some local input on the place.

Eating decently well now and having a good time.

-M

Surabaya, trains, and the journey just keeps kicking our asses

Well I'm glad to say that today was significantly...oh just put in any positive adjective here. A quick side note: have also managed to evade the hawkers that run through the aisles of public transport...they aren't allowed in executif class...so instead they are currently shouting at us through the doorways. 

Anyways, back to the epic migration west. We awoke earlier than we wanted in Surabaya, namely because I was pretty panic stricken. I blame the sterile, white, bathroom floor tiled walls of our room bouncing around that lovely dull, blue light. I couldn't shake this fear that things were going to go from worse to who-knows-what. I finally dragged myself upright and headed to the shower. I've traveled quite a bit in my short life and I've seen a great variety of showers or lack thereof. This one took some figuring out. There was a wash basin that drained to the floor and the shower head was placed on the wall to the side of this contraption so I figured that must be the place of bathing. Now, to explain this to someone who has never seen this type of bathroom, it is essentially a tiled basin (2ft x 2ft x 2ft) that is elevated up about 2ft from the floor. This way you can do your washing and your bathing in the same place. Needless to say it was entertaining to wash from up above and probably more entertaining if someone is reading this who knows if this was the proper way to do it or not. Not to mention Asia was not built for MB-sized people, and the shower head didn't quite reach above his head.

After washing off whatever was growing on us from yesterday's fiasco we headed out into Surabaya to try to find the train station so we could get our tickets to Yogya (pronounced 'Jogja' for those back home). The directions the guy gave us at the reception desk were vague at best. It was hot, I was reaching my breaking point (having hardly slept, barely eaten, and sick of feeling like a circus act) so we just succumbed to asking every person we saw where the train station was until it was staring us right in the face. We bought the tickets and decided to celebrate our success by going to the mall and walking in the air con. The mall here had a metal detector. Other than that it was your typical large city mall in Asia. Six stories, filled with a wide range of stores, and complete with random 'exhibits,' statues, and kid zones (this one had a snow area, which was essentially a large moon bounce with an icee machine on crack spewing 'snow' everywhere. We found some gifts for loved ones back home and my spirits were significantly lifted.

Surabaya wasn't as industrial and 'hard' as everyone says it is. It isn't a sparkling beauty, but it isn't a shit hole either. Just your average city (dirty by American standards) with it's usual goings on. I wouldn't recommend it if you are in a wheel chair or on crutches. The sidewalks can best be described as post apocalypse. 

Although we have felt completely out of our element until about mid-day today, I will say that the Javanese are extremely nice people. We get gawked at a lot because we are two tall whities running through Java, a place not typically on your average traveler's itinerary. Despite the unforgiving quality that is east Java, people still say hello, ask where you are from, try to speak a little English with you and I try to speak the little (but growing) amount of Indonesian I know. They are curious and not afraid to show it.

For anyone thinking of traveling to Java without language knowledge, up to this point I would say it is impossible and I would highly advise against doing it. That is, unless your plan is to get ripped off, most likely robbed, and not be able to know where anything is or what is decent to eat.

I can't speak for Jogja (yet) or Jakarta, but if you want to do what we did basic language skills are required. 

The train ride is really lovely. MB and I have ample leg space for the first time since leaving Lake Tahoe. The train runs smoothly and on time. The scenery (as my friend Q had insisted) is gorgeous. It isn't Bali (which I will miss until I get to go back), but it is a really nice countryside. We pass by farm towns where the local children all run up to the tracks and watch the train go by, pointing and waving. There were a lot of workers (men and women) tending to the last bit of their farmland as the sun set. It's interesting to think about what it must be like to grow up and live in an area like this. Quite a few people have asked us if we are flying on a plane. They get wide-eyed when we say we are from America and will be flying. It's cute in a way. If I had to guess I'd bet they don't see many Americans in these parts.     

I have been 'hit on' a lot. Not aggressive (and mostly by little kids), but I suppose even though I'm dressed like a homeless person (laundry within the next few days is a must) my eye color, height, and the fact I have purple hair makes me a target for compliments. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was charming, because, let's just say I'm not looking my finest and dressing to impress. However, I did find the lady on the ferry to Java a bit strange, she wanted a picture with me...random. 

We still need a place to stay tonight because my SIM card ran out of credit. I think we will find the nearest Starbucks (free AirCon and wifi without harassment can't be beat) and figure something out at least for the night.

My fingers are tired and I've played a lot of catchup with the blog today so I'll end it here.

M

Well I'm glad to say that today was significantly...oh just put in any positive adjective here. A quick side note: have also managed to evade the hawkers that run through the aisles of public transport...they aren't allowed in executif class...so instead they are currently shouting at us through the doorways. 

Anyways, back to the epic migration west. We awoke earlier than we wanted in Surabaya, namely because I was pretty panic stricken. I blame the sterile, white, bathroom floor tiled walls of our room bouncing around that lovely dull, blue light. I couldn't shake this fear that things were going to go from worse to who-knows-what. I finally dragged myself upright and headed to the shower. I've traveled quite a bit in my short life and I've seen a great variety of showers or lack thereof. This one took some figuring out. There was a wash basin that drained to the floor and the shower head was placed on the wall to the side of this contraption so I figured that must be the place of bathing. Now, to explain this to someone who has never seen this type of bathroom, it is essentially a tiled basin (2ft x 2ft x 2ft) that is elevated up about 2ft from the floor. This way you can do your washing and your bathing in the same place. Needless to say it was entertaining to wash from up above and probably more entertaining if someone is reading this who knows if this was the proper way to do it or not. Not to mention Asia was not built for MB-sized people, and the shower head didn't quite reach above his head.

After washing off whatever was growing on us from yesterday's fiasco we headed out into Surabaya to try to find the train station so we could get our tickets to Yogya (pronounced 'Jogja' for those back home). The directions the guy gave us at the reception desk were vague at best. It was hot, I was reaching my breaking point (having hardly slept, barely eaten, and sick of feeling like a circus act) so we just succumbed to asking every person we saw where the train station was until it was staring us right in the face. We bought the tickets and decided to celebrate our success by going to the mall and walking in the air con. The mall here had a metal detector. Other than that it was your typical large city mall in Asia. Six stories, filled with a wide range of stores, and complete with random 'exhibits,' statues, and kid zones (this one had a snow area, which was essentially a large moon bounce with an icee machine on crack spewing 'snow' everywhere. We found some gifts for loved ones back home and my spirits were significantly lifted.

Surabaya wasn't as industrial and 'hard' as everyone says it is. It isn't a sparkling beauty, but it isn't a shit hole either. Just your average city (dirty by American standards) with it's usual goings on. I wouldn't recommend it if you are in a wheel chair or on crutches. The sidewalks can best be described as post apocalypse. 

Although we have felt completely out of our element until about mid-day today, I will say that the Javanese are extremely nice people. We get gawked at a lot because we are two tall whities running through Java, a place not typically on your average traveler's itinerary. Despite the unforgiving quality that is east Java, people still say hello, ask where you are from, try to speak a little English with you and I try to speak the little (but growing) amount of Indonesian I know. They are curious and not afraid to show it.

For anyone thinking of traveling to Java without language knowledge, up to this point I would say it is impossible and I would highly advise against doing it. That is, unless your plan is to get ripped off, most likely robbed, and not be able to know where anything is or what is decent to eat.

I can't speak for Jogja (yet) or Jakarta, but if you want to do what we did basic language skills are required. 

The train ride is really lovely. MB and I have ample leg space for the first time since leaving Lake Tahoe. The train runs smoothly and on time. The scenery (as my friend Q had insisted) is gorgeous. It isn't Bali (which I will miss until I get to go back), but it is a really nice countryside. We pass by farm towns where the local children all run up to the tracks and watch the train go by, pointing and waving. There were a lot of workers (men and women) tending to the last bit of their farmland as the sun set. It's interesting to think about what it must be like to grow up and live in an area like this. Quite a few people have asked us if we are flying on a plane. They get wide-eyed when we say we are from America and will be flying. It's cute in a way. If I had to guess I'd bet they don't see many Americans in these parts.     

I have been 'hit on' a lot. Not aggressive (and mostly by little kids), but I suppose even though I'm dressed like a homeless person (laundry within the next few days is a must) my eye color, height, and the fact I have purple hair makes me a target for compliments. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was charming, because, let's just say I'm not looking my finest and dressing to impress. However, I did find the lady on the ferry to Java a bit strange, she wanted a picture with me...random. 

We still need a place to stay tonight because my SIM card ran out of credit. I think we will find the nearest Starbucks (free AirCon and wifi without harassment can't be beat) and figure something out at least for the night.

My fingers are tired and I've played a lot of catchup with the blog today so I'll end it here.

M

Well I'm glad to say that today was significantly...oh just put in any positive adjective here. A quick side note: have also managed to evade the hawkers that run through the aisles of public transport...they aren't allowed in executif class...so instead they are currently shouting at us through the doorways. 

Anyways, back to the epic migration west. We awoke earlier than we wanted in Surabaya, namely because I was pretty panic stricken. I blame the sterile, white, bathroom floor tiled walls of our room bouncing around that lovely dull, blue light. I couldn't shake this fear that things were going to go from worse to who-knows-what. I finally dragged myself upright and headed to the shower. I've traveled quite a bit in my short life and I've seen a great variety of showers or lack thereof. This one took some figuring out. There was a wash basin that drained to the floor and the shower head was placed on the wall to the side of this contraption so I figured that must be the place of bathing. Now, to explain this to someone who has never seen this type of bathroom, it is essentially a tiled basin (2ft x 2ft x 2ft) that is elevated up about 2ft from the floor. This way you can do your washing and your bathing in the same place. Needless to say it was entertaining to wash from up above and probably more entertaining if someone is reading this who knows if this was the proper way to do it or not. Not to mention Asia was not built for MB-sized people, and the shower head didn't quite reach above his head.

After washing off whatever was growing on us from yesterday's fiasco we headed out into Surabaya to try to find the train station so we could get our tickets to Yogya (pronounced 'Jogja' for those back home). The directions the guy gave us at the reception desk were vague at best. It was hot, I was reaching my breaking point (having hardly slept, barely eaten, and sick of feeling like a circus act) so we just succumbed to asking every person we saw where the train station was until it was staring us right in the face. We bought the tickets and decided to celebrate our success by going to the mall and walking in the air con. The mall here had a metal detector. Other than that it was your typical large city mall in Asia. Six stories, filled with a wide range of stores, and complete with random 'exhibits,' statues, and kid zones (this one had a snow area, which was essentially a large moon bounce with an icee machine on crack spewing 'snow' everywhere. We found some gifts for loved ones back home and my spirits were significantly lifted.

Surabaya wasn't as industrial and 'hard' as everyone says it is. It isn't a sparkling beauty, but it isn't a shit hole either. Just your average city (dirty by American standards) with it's usual goings on. I wouldn't recommend it if you are in a wheel chair or on crutches. The sidewalks can best be described as post apocalypse. 

Although we have felt completely out of our element until about mid-day today, I will say that the Javanese are extremely nice people. We get gawked at a lot because we are two tall whities running through Java, a place not typically on your average traveler's itinerary. Despite the unforgiving quality that is east Java, people still say hello, ask where you are from, try to speak a little English with you and I try to speak the little (but growing) amount of Indonesian I know. They are curious and not afraid to show it.

For anyone thinking of traveling to Java without language knowledge, up to this point I would say it is impossible and I would highly advise against doing it. That is, unless your plan is to get ripped off, most likely robbed, and not be able to know where anything is or what is decent to eat.

I can't speak for Jogja (yet) or Jakarta, but if you want to do what we did basic language skills are required. 

The train ride is really lovely. MB and I have ample leg space for the first time since leaving Lake Tahoe. The train runs smoothly and on time. The scenery (as my friend Q had insisted) is gorgeous. It isn't Bali (which I will miss until I get to go back), but it is a really nice countryside. We pass by farm towns where the local children all run up to the tracks and watch the train go by, pointing and waving. There were a lot of workers (men and women) tending to the last bit of their farmland as the sun set. It's interesting to think about what it must be like to grow up and live in an area like this. Quite a few people have asked us if we are flying on a plane. They get wide-eyed when we say we are from America and will be flying. It's cute in a way. If I had to guess I'd bet they don't see many Americans in these parts.     

I have been 'hit on' a lot. Not aggressive (and mostly by little kids), but I suppose even though I'm dressed like a homeless person (laundry within the next few days is a must) my eye color, height, and the fact I have purple hair makes me a target for compliments. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was charming, because, let's just say I'm not looking my finest and dressing to impress. However, I did find the lady on the ferry to Java a bit strange, she wanted a picture with me...random. 

We still need a place to stay tonight because my SIM card ran out of credit. I think we will find the nearest Starbucks (free AirCon and wifi without harassment can't be beat) and figure something out at least for the night.

My fingers are tired and I've played a lot of catchup with the blog today so I'll end it here.

M

Well I'm glad to say that today was significantly...oh just put in any positive adjective here. A quick side note: have also managed to evade the hawkers that run through the aisles of public transport...they aren't allowed in executif class...so instead they are currently shouting at us through the doorways. 

Anyways, back to the epic migration west. We awoke earlier than we wanted in Surabaya, namely because I was pretty panic stricken. I blame the sterile, white, bathroom floor tiled walls of our room bouncing around that lovely dull, blue light. I couldn't shake this fear that things were going to go from worse to who-knows-what. I finally dragged myself upright and headed to the shower. I've traveled quite a bit in my short life and I've seen a great variety of showers or lack thereof. This one took some figuring out. There was a wash basin that drained to the floor and the shower head was placed on the wall to the side of this contraption so I figured that must be the place of bathing. Now, to explain this to someone who has never seen this type of bathroom, it is essentially a tiled basin (2ft x 2ft x 2ft) that is elevated up about 2ft from the floor. This way you can do your washing and your bathing in the same place. Needless to say it was entertaining to wash from up above and probably more entertaining if someone is reading this who knows if this was the proper way to do it or not. Not to mention Asia was not built for MB-sized people, and the shower head didn't quite reach above his head.

After washing off whatever was growing on us from yesterday's fiasco we headed out into Surabaya to try to find the train station so we could get our tickets to Yogya (pronounced 'Jogja' for those back home). The directions the guy gave us at the reception desk were vague at best. It was hot, I was reaching my breaking point (having hardly slept, barely eaten, and sick of feeling like a circus act) so we just succumbed to asking every person we saw where the train station was until it was staring us right in the face. We bought the tickets and decided to celebrate our success by going to the mall and walking in the air con. The mall here had a metal detector. Other than that it was your typical large city mall in Asia. Six stories, filled with a wide range of stores, and complete with random 'exhibits,' statues, and kid zones (this one had a snow area, which was essentially a large moon bounce with an icee machine on crack spewing 'snow' everywhere. We found some gifts for loved ones back home and my spirits were significantly lifted.

Surabaya wasn't as industrial and 'hard' as everyone says it is. It isn't a sparkling beauty, but it isn't a shit hole either. Just your average city (dirty by American standards) with it's usual goings on. I wouldn't recommend it if you are in a wheel chair or on crutches. The sidewalks can best be described as post apocalypse. 

Although we have felt completely out of our element until about mid-day today, I will say that the Javanese are extremely nice people. We get gawked at a lot because we are two tall whities running through Java, a place not typically on your average traveler's itinerary. Despite the unforgiving quality that is east Java, people still say hello, ask where you are from, try to speak a little English with you and I try to speak the little (but growing) amount of Indonesian I know. They are curious and not afraid to show it.

For anyone thinking of traveling to Java without language knowledge, up to this point I would say it is impossible and I would highly advise against doing it. That is, unless your plan is to get ripped off, most likely robbed, and not be able to know where anything is or what is decent to eat.

I can't speak for Jogja (yet) or Jakarta, but if you want to do what we did basic language skills are required. 

The train ride is really lovely. MB and I have ample leg space for the first time since leaving Lake Tahoe. The train runs smoothly and on time. The scenery (as my friend Q had insisted) is gorgeous. It isn't Bali (which I will miss until I get to go back), but it is a really nice countryside. We pass by farm towns where the local children all run up to the tracks and watch the train go by, pointing and waving. There were a lot of workers (men and women) tending to the last bit of their farmland as the sun set. It's interesting to think about what it must be like to grow up and live in an area like this. Quite a few people have asked us if we are flying on a plane. They get wide-eyed when we say we are from America and will be flying. It's cute in a way. If I had to guess I'd bet they don't see many Americans in these parts.     

I have been 'hit on' a lot. Not aggressive (and mostly by little kids), but I suppose even though I'm dressed like a homeless person (laundry within the next few days is a must) my eye color, height, and the fact I have purple hair makes me a target for compliments. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was charming, because, let's just say I'm not looking my finest and dressing to impress. However, I did find the lady on the ferry to Java a bit strange, she wanted a picture with me...random. 

We still need a place to stay tonight because my SIM card ran out of credit. I think we will find the nearest Starbucks (free AirCon and wifi without harassment can't be beat) and figure something out at least for the night.

My fingers are tired and I've played a lot of catchup with the blog today so I'll end it here.

M

The unforgiven

Oh so where do I begin? Forget it, MB tells it better...so without further adieu I give you MB...

After a long and restful stay in the wonderful land of Bali, the adventurous duo set out yet again for another journey to a less forgiving island (Java that is).  We arrived at Denpasar's famed Ubung bus station and were immediately accosted by a dozen men offering their transportation services.  "Surabaya, 200,000 rupiah."  We bartered with them and settled on a price to take us through the ferry to the other side.  After entering the bus, we passed by some people tending their pet birds, exchanged glances, and sat down.

And so it began...

And went...

And went...

Luckily, Merriam Bellina (who? I duno...) was playing her much sought after 80s love ballad karaoke jams on loop on the bus TV.  I believe we looped through about 10 times.  Great torture device I suppose.

When the bus was somewhat filled (there is no timetable, they just fill the bus and go), we began to get ever more restless, as we began to realize that we would likely miss what we thought would be a 2:50pm train in Java to begin our travels west.  The driver offered us a tease by sitting in his seat and honking the horn.  But, alas, he then rose, walked off the bus, and went, well, somewhere, for a while.  To get to the point, the bus took off 2 hours after we arrived at Ubung.  Just as we finally thought the driver was going to put the pedal to the metal, it stopped in the parking lot.  A young British couple jumped on and sat next to us.  They were still paging through their Bali travel book, which I thought was strange.

Gilimanuk is the port town in west Bali about 3hrs from Denpasar.  The bus arrived there and began boarding the ferry.  At this moment, the Brits decided it would be a good time to have a little chat.  "Where the fuck are we?" as they pointed at their Lonely Planet map.  I pointed to our current location, which was certainly not where they had intended to go.  Just an aside, I love how British people say "fuck."  We passed them by while exiting the bus to the ferry and they attempted to communicate with the driver.  Either they were scammed or tremendously stupid.

The ferry was interesting.  M had heard some rumors as to how "sea-worthy" these barges would be, but it was too late to be concerned.  We looked back to Bali as it took off and began to wonder what would be different in coffee-land.  Turns out, quite a bit, but more on that later.  At the ferry you can buy bananas.  They had other things, but bananas sounded best.  I munched on one while watching some teenager try to put on a trade show of sorts in front of the passengers, selling these stupid rubber balls that had fiber optic epileptic seizures when you drop them on the ground.  For the kids, of course.

The ferry lined up its arrival and we began to size up this long skinny island in front of us.  No big deal, we thought, no biggie.  Shortly after the bus drove off the barge and onto Java soil, the bus employee flagged us to the back of the bus, pointing at the train station that we so insisted on being dropped off at.  I immediately regretted not taking the bus straight to Surabaya, as the area looked beyond sketchy.  Either way, we were getting off that bus and were on our own.  Great...

We were dropped off at a corner with a vague sign indicating that it led to a station.  As we began traversing the street, some lovely goats greeted us.  I could feel those evil goats cursing us.  The station did not look exactly inviting, and M attempted to purchase tickets to Surabaya.  Not available until 9:45pm, uh oh spaghetti-O.  We looked at the clock and it was 2:30pm.  And that 2:50pm train we thought we'd make?  Didn't exist.  Some "friendly/scam-worthy" local negotiated what was an apparent arrangement for a bus to take us to Surabaya, and he left on his motorbike to finish the deal, we supposed (no idea how it was supposed to work).  We were tired of waiting, and a young boy started a conversation with us.  Only M could somewhat understand him.  I'm pretty sure he was serenading her and to be quite honest, I was too annoyed by the day to absorb his charm.

Frustrated and scared, we ventured off again onto BF Blvd and found ourselves on a taxi that did not appear honest at first glance, but who cares at this moment?  We arrived at yet another, and exceedingly sketchy, bus station, and found ourselves back at square one, yes, a bus to Surabaya.  They said it would take 6 hours, 40 minutes.  How exact!

Upon entering the bus, we were the stars of the show, as we always are in Asia.  I considered holding out a cup for $, might as well considering the entertainment we provide for staring natives.  The creepy thing about the staring in Java is that they don't smile like they do in Bali.  

A brief moment of relief sits in.  Yes, today sucked, yes, we are yet again on a bus to Surabaya, even though we tried to avoid it.  But we were back on track.  We didn't care that the bus seemed to stop at every block.  So we sit, and sit, and sit, and did I mention we sat?  My ass went numb and eventually my tailbone felt like it had been paddled hard by a sadistic fraternity brother.  M mentioned maybe changing positions.  Didn't work, just uncomfortable no matter what.  We dozed off occasionally and worried every time we looked at the clock and realized that the estimated time of travel was grossly misrepresented.

At one point, we stopped at a station that, if I had one word, would describe as Hades.  Put it this way, if you were stranded there, you wouldn't survive the night.  M had to pee, and when she exited, the vulnerable white boy with the stinging ass waited for her impatiently.  Luckily, we had some nice visitors come by and say hello.  One of them had a gimpy leg and slid his way down the bus aisle.  That was nice.  Then, as I looked to my left, an apparent leper was sitting there with his hands out, ordering me to feed him.  M is much nicer than I am and fed him some bread, but had an insatiable appetite.  I also found out that when M attempted to find a bathroom, men began asking her where her husband was.  She was so scared that she ditched the bathroom idea and bought "food" instead.

Some time around 9pm or so, the bus stopped flat in its tracks and the bus employee shoved us off, pointing at the honking bus in front of it.  Quite an impatient driver, I thought, just give us a damn minute to gather our enormous hiking bags.  We entered the bus and did not like what we saw.  Some seedy-looking fellows were sitting to the left of us, one of which particularly enjoyed hucking loogies, clearing his throat, and generally just snotting everywhere.  Not to mention, this bus was eerily darker, drearier, and just dirtier than the last one, and that's saying something.  But that wasn't the worst part...

Unbeknownst to us, Mario Andretti was piloting the starship.  I should have predicted that the honk-crazy driver would have a lead foot, but this was beyond human tolerance.  Despite the complete lack of suspension and overall safety and security of the bus, he drove with reckless abandon.  It seemed like he was going 100mph at all times down a seemingly endless sea of potholes, beeping incessantly and just generally bullying everyone on the road.  We might as well have been in an ambulance.  M and I clung to each other and feared for our lives.

If there was any redeeming qualities to this driver, at least we got to Surabaya much faster than originally anticipated.  We found a taxi, which took us to our destination.  Surabaya looked OK, habitable enough.  We were too relieved to start judging.  The front door was locked and we went around back to check in.  The room wasn't great and it had a creepy blue light at its top.  The bathroom was mildly gross and overbleached.  Didn't matter, we made it, one step closer to Jogya in this unforgiving terrain.  Time to keep on keeping on....

M here again. I'll break this post for the next, and thus far nicer, half of the journey.

Oh so where do I begin? Forget it, MB tells it better...so without further adieu I give you MB...

After a long and restful stay in the wonderful land of Bali, the adventurous duo set out yet again for another journey to a less forgiving island (Java that is).  We arrived at Denpasar's famed Ubung bus station and were immediately accosted by a dozen men offering their transportation services.  "Surabaya, 200,000 rupiah."  We bartered with them and settled on a price to take us through the ferry to the other side.  After entering the bus, we passed by some people tending their pet birds, exchanged glances, and sat down.

And so it began...

And went...

And went...

Luckily, Merriam Bellina (who? I duno...) was playing her much sought after 80s love ballad karaoke jams on loop on the bus TV.  I believe we looped through about 10 times.  Great torture device I suppose.

When the bus was somewhat filled (there is no timetable, they just fill the bus and go), we began to get ever more restless, as we began to realize that we would likely miss what we thought would be a 2:50pm train in Java to begin our travels west.  The driver offered us a tease by sitting in his seat and honking the horn.  But, alas, he then rose, walked off the bus, and went, well, somewhere, for a while.  To get to the point, the bus took off 2 hours after we arrived at Ubung.  Just as we finally thought the driver was going to put the pedal to the metal, it stopped in the parking lot.  A young British couple jumped on and sat next to us.  They were still paging through their Bali travel book, which I thought was strange.

Gilimanuk is the port town in west Bali about 3hrs from Denpasar.  The bus arrived there and began boarding the ferry.  At this moment, the Brits decided it would be a good time to have a little chat.  "Where the fuck are we?" as they pointed at their Lonely Planet map.  I pointed to our current location, which was certainly not where they had intended to go.  Just an aside, I love how British people say "fuck."  We passed them by while exiting the bus to the ferry and they attempted to communicate with the driver.  Either they were scammed or tremendously stupid.

The ferry was interesting.  M had heard some rumors as to how "sea-worthy" these barges would be, but it was too late to be concerned.  We looked back to Bali as it took off and began to wonder what would be different in coffee-land.  Turns out, quite a bit, but more on that later.  At the ferry you can buy bananas.  They had other things, but bananas sounded best.  I munched on one while watching some teenager try to put on a trade show of sorts in front of the passengers, selling these stupid rubber balls that had fiber optic epileptic seizures when you drop them on the ground.  For the kids, of course.

The ferry lined up its arrival and we began to size up this long skinny island in front of us.  No big deal, we thought, no biggie.  Shortly after the bus drove off the barge and onto Java soil, the bus employee flagged us to the back of the bus, pointing at the train station that we so insisted on being dropped off at.  I immediately regretted not taking the bus straight to Surabaya, as the area looked beyond sketchy.  Either way, we were getting off that bus and were on our own.  Great...

We were dropped off at a corner with a vague sign indicating that it led to a station.  As we began traversing the street, some lovely goats greeted us.  I could feel those evil goats cursing us.  The station did not look exactly inviting, and M attempted to purchase tickets to Surabaya.  Not available until 9:45pm, uh oh spaghetti-O.  We looked at the clock and it was 2:30pm.  And that 2:50pm train we thought we'd make?  Didn't exist.  Some "friendly/scam-worthy" local negotiated what was an apparent arrangement for a bus to take us to Surabaya, and he left on his motorbike to finish the deal, we supposed (no idea how it was supposed to work).  We were tired of waiting, and a young boy started a conversation with us.  Only M could somewhat understand him.  I'm pretty sure he was serenading her and to be quite honest, I was too annoyed by the day to absorb his charm.

Frustrated and scared, we ventured off again onto BF Blvd and found ourselves on a taxi that did not appear honest at first glance, but who cares at this moment?  We arrived at yet another, and exceedingly sketchy, bus station, and found ourselves back at square one, yes, a bus to Surabaya.  They said it would take 6 hours, 40 minutes.  How exact!

Upon entering the bus, we were the stars of the show, as we always are in Asia.  I considered holding out a cup for $, might as well considering the entertainment we provide for staring natives.  The creepy thing about the staring in Java is that they don't smile like they do in Bali.  

A brief moment of relief sits in.  Yes, today sucked, yes, we are yet again on a bus to Surabaya, even though we tried to avoid it.  But we were back on track.  We didn't care that the bus seemed to stop at every block.  So we sit, and sit, and sit, and did I mention we sat?  My ass went numb and eventually my tailbone felt like it had been paddled hard by a sadistic fraternity brother.  M mentioned maybe changing positions.  Didn't work, just uncomfortable no matter what.  We dozed off occasionally and worried every time we looked at the clock and realized that the estimated time of travel was grossly misrepresented.

At one point, we stopped at a station that, if I had one word, would describe as Hades.  Put it this way, if you were stranded there, you wouldn't survive the night.  M had to pee, and when she exited, the vulnerable white boy with the stinging ass waited for her impatiently.  Luckily, we had some nice visitors come by and say hello.  One of them had a gimpy leg and slid his way down the bus aisle.  That was nice.  Then, as I looked to my left, an apparent leper was sitting there with his hands out, ordering me to feed him.  M is much nicer than I am and fed him some bread, but had an insatiable appetite.  I also found out that when M attempted to find a bathroom, men began asking her where her husband was.  She was so scared that she ditched the bathroom idea and bought "food" instead.

Some time around 9pm or so, the bus stopped flat in its tracks and the bus employee shoved us off, pointing at the honking bus in front of it.  Quite an impatient driver, I thought, just give us a damn minute to gather our enormous hiking bags.  We entered the bus and did not like what we saw.  Some seedy-looking fellows were sitting to the left of us, one of which particularly enjoyed hucking loogies, clearing his throat, and generally just snotting everywhere.  Not to mention, this bus was eerily darker, drearier, and just dirtier than the last one, and that's saying something.  But that wasn't the worst part...

Unbeknownst to us, Mario Andretti was piloting the starship.  I should have predicted that the honk-crazy driver would have a lead foot, but this was beyond human tolerance.  Despite the complete lack of suspension and overall safety and security of the bus, he drove with reckless abandon.  It seemed like he was going 100mph at all times down a seemingly endless sea of potholes, beeping incessantly and just generally bullying everyone on the road.  We might as well have been in an ambulance.  M and I clung to each other and feared for our lives.

If there was any redeeming qualities to this driver, at least we got to Surabaya much faster than originally anticipated.  We found a taxi, which took us to our destination.  Surabaya looked OK, habitable enough.  We were too relieved to start judging.  The front door was locked and we went around back to check in.  The room wasn't great and it had a creepy blue light at its top.  The bathroom was mildly gross and overbleached.  Didn't matter, we made it, one step closer to Jogya in this unforgiving terrain.  Time to keep on keeping on....

M here again. I'll break this post for the next, and thus far nicer, half of the journey.

Oh so where do I begin? Forget it, MB tells it better...so without further adieu I give you MB...

After a long and restful stay in the wonderful land of Bali, the adventurous duo set out yet again for another journey to a less forgiving island (Java that is).  We arrived at Denpasar's famed Ubung bus station and were immediately accosted by a dozen men offering their transportation services.  "Surabaya, 200,000 rupiah."  We bartered with them and settled on a price to take us through the ferry to the other side.  After entering the bus, we passed by some people tending their pet birds, exchanged glances, and sat down.

And so it began...

And went...

And went...

Luckily, Merriam Bellina (who? I duno...) was playing her much sought after 80s love ballad karaoke jams on loop on the bus TV.  I believe we looped through about 10 times.  Great torture device I suppose.

When the bus was somewhat filled (there is no timetable, they just fill the bus and go), we began to get ever more restless, as we began to realize that we would likely miss what we thought would be a 2:50pm train in Java to begin our travels west.  The driver offered us a tease by sitting in his seat and honking the horn.  But, alas, he then rose, walked off the bus, and went, well, somewhere, for a while.  To get to the point, the bus took off 2 hours after we arrived at Ubung.  Just as we finally thought the driver was going to put the pedal to the metal, it stopped in the parking lot.  A young British couple jumped on and sat next to us.  They were still paging through their Bali travel book, which I thought was strange.

Gilimanuk is the port town in west Bali about 3hrs from Denpasar.  The bus arrived there and began boarding the ferry.  At this moment, the Brits decided it would be a good time to have a little chat.  "Where the fuck are we?" as they pointed at their Lonely Planet map.  I pointed to our current location, which was certainly not where they had intended to go.  Just an aside, I love how British people say "fuck."  We passed them by while exiting the bus to the ferry and they attempted to communicate with the driver.  Either they were scammed or tremendously stupid.

The ferry was interesting.  M had heard some rumors as to how "sea-worthy" these barges would be, but it was too late to be concerned.  We looked back to Bali as it took off and began to wonder what would be different in coffee-land.  Turns out, quite a bit, but more on that later.  At the ferry you can buy bananas.  They had other things, but bananas sounded best.  I munched on one while watching some teenager try to put on a trade show of sorts in front of the passengers, selling these stupid rubber balls that had fiber optic epileptic seizures when you drop them on the ground.  For the kids, of course.

The ferry lined up its arrival and we began to size up this long skinny island in front of us.  No big deal, we thought, no biggie.  Shortly after the bus drove off the barge and onto Java soil, the bus employee flagged us to the back of the bus, pointing at the train station that we so insisted on being dropped off at.  I immediately regretted not taking the bus straight to Surabaya, as the area looked beyond sketchy.  Either way, we were getting off that bus and were on our own.  Great...

We were dropped off at a corner with a vague sign indicating that it led to a station.  As we began traversing the street, some lovely goats greeted us.  I could feel those evil goats cursing us.  The station did not look exactly inviting, and M attempted to purchase tickets to Surabaya.  Not available until 9:45pm, uh oh spaghetti-O.  We looked at the clock and it was 2:30pm.  And that 2:50pm train we thought we'd make?  Didn't exist.  Some "friendly/scam-worthy" local negotiated what was an apparent arrangement for a bus to take us to Surabaya, and he left on his motorbike to finish the deal, we supposed (no idea how it was supposed to work).  We were tired of waiting, and a young boy started a conversation with us.  Only M could somewhat understand him.  I'm pretty sure he was serenading her and to be quite honest, I was too annoyed by the day to absorb his charm.

Frustrated and scared, we ventured off again onto BF Blvd and found ourselves on a taxi that did not appear honest at first glance, but who cares at this moment?  We arrived at yet another, and exceedingly sketchy, bus station, and found ourselves back at square one, yes, a bus to Surabaya.  They said it would take 6 hours, 40 minutes.  How exact!

Upon entering the bus, we were the stars of the show, as we always are in Asia.  I considered holding out a cup for $, might as well considering the entertainment we provide for staring natives.  The creepy thing about the staring in Java is that they don't smile like they do in Bali.  

A brief moment of relief sits in.  Yes, today sucked, yes, we are yet again on a bus to Surabaya, even though we tried to avoid it.  But we were back on track.  We didn't care that the bus seemed to stop at every block.  So we sit, and sit, and sit, and did I mention we sat?  My ass went numb and eventually my tailbone felt like it had been paddled hard by a sadistic fraternity brother.  M mentioned maybe changing positions.  Didn't work, just uncomfortable no matter what.  We dozed off occasionally and worried every time we looked at the clock and realized that the estimated time of travel was grossly misrepresented.

At one point, we stopped at a station that, if I had one word, would describe as Hades.  Put it this way, if you were stranded there, you wouldn't survive the night.  M had to pee, and when she exited, the vulnerable white boy with the stinging ass waited for her impatiently.  Luckily, we had some nice visitors come by and say hello.  One of them had a gimpy leg and slid his way down the bus aisle.  That was nice.  Then, as I looked to my left, an apparent leper was sitting there with his hands out, ordering me to feed him.  M is much nicer than I am and fed him some bread, but had an insatiable appetite.  I also found out that when M attempted to find a bathroom, men began asking her where her husband was.  She was so scared that she ditched the bathroom idea and bought "food" instead.

Some time around 9pm or so, the bus stopped flat in its tracks and the bus employee shoved us off, pointing at the honking bus in front of it.  Quite an impatient driver, I thought, just give us a damn minute to gather our enormous hiking bags.  We entered the bus and did not like what we saw.  Some seedy-looking fellows were sitting to the left of us, one of which particularly enjoyed hucking loogies, clearing his throat, and generally just snotting everywhere.  Not to mention, this bus was eerily darker, drearier, and just dirtier than the last one, and that's saying something.  But that wasn't the worst part...

Unbeknownst to us, Mario Andretti was piloting the starship.  I should have predicted that the honk-crazy driver would have a lead foot, but this was beyond human tolerance.  Despite the complete lack of suspension and overall safety and security of the bus, he drove with reckless abandon.  It seemed like he was going 100mph at all times down a seemingly endless sea of potholes, beeping incessantly and just generally bullying everyone on the road.  We might as well have been in an ambulance.  M and I clung to each other and feared for our lives.

If there was any redeeming qualities to this driver, at least we got to Surabaya much faster than originally anticipated.  We found a taxi, which took us to our destination.  Surabaya looked OK, habitable enough.  We were too relieved to start judging.  The front door was locked and we went around back to check in.  The room wasn't great and it had a creepy blue light at its top.  The bathroom was mildly gross and overbleached.  Didn't matter, we made it, one step closer to Jogya in this unforgiving terrain.  Time to keep on keeping on....

M here again. I'll break this post for the next, and thus far nicer, half of the journey.

Oh so where do I begin? Forget it, MB tells it better...so without further adieu I give you MB...

After a long and restful stay in the wonderful land of Bali, the adventurous duo set out yet again for another journey to a less forgiving island (Java that is).  We arrived at Denpasar's famed Ubung bus station and were immediately accosted by a dozen men offering their transportation services.  "Surabaya, 200,000 rupiah."  We bartered with them and settled on a price to take us through the ferry to the other side.  After entering the bus, we passed by some people tending their pet birds, exchanged glances, and sat down.

And so it began...

And went...

And went...

Luckily, Merriam Bellina (who? I duno...) was playing her much sought after 80s love ballad karaoke jams on loop on the bus TV.  I believe we looped through about 10 times.  Great torture device I suppose.

When the bus was somewhat filled (there is no timetable, they just fill the bus and go), we began to get ever more restless, as we began to realize that we would likely miss what we thought would be a 2:50pm train in Java to begin our travels west.  The driver offered us a tease by sitting in his seat and honking the horn.  But, alas, he then rose, walked off the bus, and went, well, somewhere, for a while.  To get to the point, the bus took off 2 hours after we arrived at Ubung.  Just as we finally thought the driver was going to put the pedal to the metal, it stopped in the parking lot.  A young British couple jumped on and sat next to us.  They were still paging through their Bali travel book, which I thought was strange.

Gilimanuk is the port town in west Bali about 3hrs from Denpasar.  The bus arrived there and began boarding the ferry.  At this moment, the Brits decided it would be a good time to have a little chat.  "Where the fuck are we?" as they pointed at their Lonely Planet map.  I pointed to our current location, which was certainly not where they had intended to go.  Just an aside, I love how British people say "fuck."  We passed them by while exiting the bus to the ferry and they attempted to communicate with the driver.  Either they were scammed or tremendously stupid.

The ferry was interesting.  M had heard some rumors as to how "sea-worthy" these barges would be, but it was too late to be concerned.  We looked back to Bali as it took off and began to wonder what would be different in coffee-land.  Turns out, quite a bit, but more on that later.  At the ferry you can buy bananas.  They had other things, but bananas sounded best.  I munched on one while watching some teenager try to put on a trade show of sorts in front of the passengers, selling these stupid rubber balls that had fiber optic epileptic seizures when you drop them on the ground.  For the kids, of course.

The ferry lined up its arrival and we began to size up this long skinny island in front of us.  No big deal, we thought, no biggie.  Shortly after the bus drove off the barge and onto Java soil, the bus employee flagged us to the back of the bus, pointing at the train station that we so insisted on being dropped off at.  I immediately regretted not taking the bus straight to Surabaya, as the area looked beyond sketchy.  Either way, we were getting off that bus and were on our own.  Great...

We were dropped off at a corner with a vague sign indicating that it led to a station.  As we began traversing the street, some lovely goats greeted us.  I could feel those evil goats cursing us.  The station did not look exactly inviting, and M attempted to purchase tickets to Surabaya.  Not available until 9:45pm, uh oh spaghetti-O.  We looked at the clock and it was 2:30pm.  And that 2:50pm train we thought we'd make?  Didn't exist.  Some "friendly/scam-worthy" local negotiated what was an apparent arrangement for a bus to take us to Surabaya, and he left on his motorbike to finish the deal, we supposed (no idea how it was supposed to work).  We were tired of waiting, and a young boy started a conversation with us.  Only M could somewhat understand him.  I'm pretty sure he was serenading her and to be quite honest, I was too annoyed by the day to absorb his charm.

Frustrated and scared, we ventured off again onto BF Blvd and found ourselves on a taxi that did not appear honest at first glance, but who cares at this moment?  We arrived at yet another, and exceedingly sketchy, bus station, and found ourselves back at square one, yes, a bus to Surabaya.  They said it would take 6 hours, 40 minutes.  How exact!

Upon entering the bus, we were the stars of the show, as we always are in Asia.  I considered holding out a cup for $, might as well considering the entertainment we provide for staring natives.  The creepy thing about the staring in Java is that they don't smile like they do in Bali.  

A brief moment of relief sits in.  Yes, today sucked, yes, we are yet again on a bus to Surabaya, even though we tried to avoid it.  But we were back on track.  We didn't care that the bus seemed to stop at every block.  So we sit, and sit, and sit, and did I mention we sat?  My ass went numb and eventually my tailbone felt like it had been paddled hard by a sadistic fraternity brother.  M mentioned maybe changing positions.  Didn't work, just uncomfortable no matter what.  We dozed off occasionally and worried every time we looked at the clock and realized that the estimated time of travel was grossly misrepresented.

At one point, we stopped at a station that, if I had one word, would describe as Hades.  Put it this way, if you were stranded there, you wouldn't survive the night.  M had to pee, and when she exited, the vulnerable white boy with the stinging ass waited for her impatiently.  Luckily, we had some nice visitors come by and say hello.  One of them had a gimpy leg and slid his way down the bus aisle.  That was nice.  Then, as I looked to my left, an apparent leper was sitting there with his hands out, ordering me to feed him.  M is much nicer than I am and fed him some bread, but had an insatiable appetite.  I also found out that when M attempted to find a bathroom, men began asking her where her husband was.  She was so scared that she ditched the bathroom idea and bought "food" instead.

Some time around 9pm or so, the bus stopped flat in its tracks and the bus employee shoved us off, pointing at the honking bus in front of it.  Quite an impatient driver, I thought, just give us a damn minute to gather our enormous hiking bags.  We entered the bus and did not like what we saw.  Some seedy-looking fellows were sitting to the left of us, one of which particularly enjoyed hucking loogies, clearing his throat, and generally just snotting everywhere.  Not to mention, this bus was eerily darker, drearier, and just dirtier than the last one, and that's saying something.  But that wasn't the worst part...

Unbeknownst to us, Mario Andretti was piloting the starship.  I should have predicted that the honk-crazy driver would have a lead foot, but this was beyond human tolerance.  Despite the complete lack of suspension and overall safety and security of the bus, he drove with reckless abandon.  It seemed like he was going 100mph at all times down a seemingly endless sea of potholes, beeping incessantly and just generally bullying everyone on the road.  We might as well have been in an ambulance.  M and I clung to each other and feared for our lives.

If there was any redeeming qualities to this driver, at least we got to Surabaya much faster than originally anticipated.  We found a taxi, which took us to our destination.  Surabaya looked OK, habitable enough.  We were too relieved to start judging.  The front door was locked and we went around back to check in.  The room wasn't great and it had a creepy blue light at its top.  The bathroom was mildly gross and overbleached.  Didn't matter, we made it, one step closer to Jogya in this unforgiving terrain.  Time to keep on keeping on....

M here again. I'll break this post for the next, and thus far nicer, half of the journey.

Adventures in Singapore seem miles away, but better late than never

Nothing says 'cultural exchange' like a good fart joke. 

written 8/15/2012

Right now I'm sitting in an open kitchen in a location with no address deep in the rice fields of Bali, Indonesia. Although it's a simple 1hr and 45 min plane ride from the location I'm going to write about, it feels as if it is a whole different planet. However, the adventures of the last two and a half days here are left for another post. 

I'm not quite sure when I will actually be able to post this, but I'll do my best to keep all my catch-up posts organized. After our adventures in Hong Kong came to a close we headed south to Singapore. I came to Singapore for the sole reason of seeing friends, in particular R, my egyptian friend who I've seen over 5 times in the past year and in 4 different countries. The plane landed and another friend, S, who I was also looking forward to seeing did us a kind favor by picking us up at the airport and escorting us around for a Saturday night on the town.

Traveling on a budget is impossible in Singapore, which is the main reason why we spent so little time there. I was actually anticipating spending more per day in Hong Kong, but luckily this turned out not to be the case. 

We arrived late (around 10:30 pm) and got out on the town for some grub. S took us to a place that served up some unbeatable butter chicken (a ghee based curry dish) which we mopped up with some naan. The next stop was an Indian club, but not really a dance club. The best way to describe it is a strip club, except the women dance to Indian music (mostly Bhangra I believe) and wear saris. No badonkadonks, cookies, or boobies, but plenty of gawking men. Apparently in India, the men make it rain on the women (ie brush bills off of there palms into the air) but Singapore's prices don't allow for such things. We had a pint there then headed to Clark Quay, (pronounced 'key' by the way) for a tall can on the bridge. We people watched and exchanged stories, it wasn't nearly as wild as my first time to the bridge, but after a long plane ride and MB's struggle to adjust to the time zone, the fact that we were even alive past arrival time is a small feat. After a beer or two we wandered around the club area and ended up going to a cheap place with a minimal cover charge and live music. Don't get me wrong, I love live music, but in most cases in Asia a live music bar can be a terrifying nightmare. However these guys were REALLY good. Granted they were on their last set and played mostly drunk cover songs (think Journey people!) but it was awesome. We danced, had a drink and watched all the complete waste-os try to get some. Overall it was an entertaining night and we stayed up until past 4am which allowed for us to finally get adjusted to the time zone. S, if you're reading this, I left my phone in the cab (again) on the way back from the airport so sorry if you smsed me and I didn't respond. Speaking of my phone, it was on it's last leg (it fell apart multiple times a day and couldn't hold a charge for more than 2 hours) so I don't miss it. Plus, R gave me an old one to borrow for my trip so no worries there.

We slept in a bit and then woke up at R's place. R was still in Langkawi on holiday so we opened the door to find one of R's roommates, L, cooking up some Roti. She made us some and gave us some teh tehrik (my fav). We hit it off quite well, she was excited that she could talk with us because two of her other roommates were French, and their guests never spoke English. She's from KL and we talked about the food vs the Singapore food. She mentioned a place nearby that had Penang food (argued to be the best in Malaysia, and therefore, some - if not THE- best in the world). I jumped on this opportunity because MB and I didn't have the time to squeeze in Penang. We all hopped on the MRT and headed over to the place. 

It was DANK...AWESOME...HAPPY...pretty much as authentic as Penang food can get without being the real thing. We got Penang Laksa, squid/cuttlefish (I can't tell the difference) curry, char keow tow (sp?), and various juices. This was the commencement meal to our hari makan (eating day). We decided to walk off the meal and headed to a few markets to pick up beer and fresh fruit. We tried these small nut looking things that actually have fruit that tastes a lot like Lychee (the name escapes me right now...I think it starts with an 'L'), and some mangosteens. It was hard not to eat everything in sight. We also learned that R lives near the 'red light' district of Singapore, which was funny because I thought Singapore was too polite to have one. Apparently it's pretty obvious at night, but it isn't dangerous or anything like that. The only thing that happens is a man might ask you 'how much?' if you are a woman out alone at night. In which case, it would probably be more dangerous for the man as my fist or foot would meet his face or happy spot.  

We headed back to wash up, enjoy some fruit, and wait for R and his girlfriend (another M) to arrive. I was so excited to meet M as I hadn't met her yet and R spoke so well of her. After the reunion we went out again for some makan and a little sight seeing. This time we got some bakuteh (again with the spelling), which is essentially a clay pot stew of broth and spare ribs. Delish and one of my favorites of Singapore. Afterwards we went to get MB some more foot pads, as his achilles had some blisters from his new sandals. Then we decided to head to Arab street, as no visit with R is complete without a shisha session. Not to mention, MB had never been to a shisha establishment so it was a must. The shisha was great despite the wind (ash) and heat, which by this point, was starting to get to me. 

After we left it was about time for buka pasar, or the fast-breaking market that happens during ramadan to start. We headed to the big mosque, which I had never seen before, and strolled through the market. It's always great to wander through these types of markets, and even better to eat at them, but I was already stuffed at this point, so I enjoyed it with my nose. However, R insisted that we stop by Singapore's signature place to buy some Murtabak, which we were planning to eat 'Egyptian style' or on the hood of one's car. This plan quickly backfired because the nastiest thing I have ever witnessed in Singapore occurred in the parking garage, a broken sewer pipe. NASTY. So we opted to take the food back to R's place instead.

Once again, we washed up and I checked my email to get some info on meeting up with my Spanish friend, N by the Marina Bay footbridge. We had agreed to meet as she had a layover there, but both of us had no way of communicating to one another. We walked by the waterfront at night, which MB hadn't seen anyways (I also haven't, despite the fact I had already been to Singapore last year). It was quite charming and really pretty. We waited around for N for about an hour then gave up to makan (eat) one last time. We headed to a hawker center near the Esplanade and I had some mee goreng (fried noodles, nothing too special as I was full enough by this point) with veggies and MB had some chicken wings (the whole wing, stretched out, with tasty dipping sauce and a delicious glaze). We bumped into other CSers there (CouchSurfers) V and his surfer. I hadn't seen V in over a year so it was cool to bump into him. The other surfer had just came from KL and stayed with someone I know there. We were laughing about the 'small world' effect. Apparently it's quite common in Singapore. They say there are 6 degrees of separation but I have been told by more than one person that in Singapore there are only three. 

R dropped us off at his place (he was staying with M for the night so we would have a bed) and wished us well. I was sad to leave, as it felt too short, but Singapore isn't a cheap place to be, and without jobs it was about as much as our wallets could handle. However, we'll be back for 12 hours at the end of our trip and we will at least get to see R and M one last time.

We passed out almost immediately after being on the go for so long. The next morning we awoke, packed our clean laundry (thanks again for letting us use your washer L!) and said bye to L. We snacked on some kaya toast at the airport before we boarded the plane to Bali.

It was a fun start to the trip to be in some of the big, worldly cities. However, I'm thankful to not have to be at an airport for two weeks and to be taking things at a slower pace. The plan is to spend one week in Bali and one week in Java giving us two weeks in Indo. Indo is my favorite country that I've visited in my life thus far and I'm excited to be back. However it's a bit late and the start of the chapter is better left for another post. It's time for me to put some aloe on my sunburns and retire to the Bale underneath the mosquito net.

selamat malam (goodnight)

-M

Nothing says 'cultural exchange' like a good fart joke. 

written 8/15/2012

Right now I'm sitting in an open kitchen in a location with no address deep in the rice fields of Bali, Indonesia. Although it's a simple 1hr and 45 min plane ride from the location I'm going to write about, it feels as if it is a whole different planet. However, the adventures of the last two and a half days here are left for another post. 

I'm not quite sure when I will actually be able to post this, but I'll do my best to keep all my catch-up posts organized. After our adventures in Hong Kong came to a close we headed south to Singapore. I came to Singapore for the sole reason of seeing friends, in particular R, my egyptian friend who I've seen over 5 times in the past year and in 4 different countries. The plane landed and another friend, S, who I was also looking forward to seeing did us a kind favor by picking us up at the airport and escorting us around for a Saturday night on the town.

Traveling on a budget is impossible in Singapore, which is the main reason why we spent so little time there. I was actually anticipating spending more per day in Hong Kong, but luckily this turned out not to be the case. 

We arrived late (around 10:30 pm) and got out on the town for some grub. S took us to a place that served up some unbeatable butter chicken (a ghee based curry dish) which we mopped up with some naan. The next stop was an Indian club, but not really a dance club. The best way to describe it is a strip club, except the women dance to Indian music (mostly Bhangra I believe) and wear saris. No badonkadonks, cookies, or boobies, but plenty of gawking men. Apparently in India, the men make it rain on the women (ie brush bills off of there palms into the air) but Singapore's prices don't allow for such things. We had a pint there then headed to Clark Quay, (pronounced 'key' by the way) for a tall can on the bridge. We people watched and exchanged stories, it wasn't nearly as wild as my first time to the bridge, but after a long plane ride and MB's struggle to adjust to the time zone, the fact that we were even alive past arrival time is a small feat. After a beer or two we wandered around the club area and ended up going to a cheap place with a minimal cover charge and live music. Don't get me wrong, I love live music, but in most cases in Asia a live music bar can be a terrifying nightmare. However these guys were REALLY good. Granted they were on their last set and played mostly drunk cover songs (think Journey people!) but it was awesome. We danced, had a drink and watched all the complete waste-os try to get some. Overall it was an entertaining night and we stayed up until past 4am which allowed for us to finally get adjusted to the time zone. S, if you're reading this, I left my phone in the cab (again) on the way back from the airport so sorry if you smsed me and I didn't respond. Speaking of my phone, it was on it's last leg (it fell apart multiple times a day and couldn't hold a charge for more than 2 hours) so I don't miss it. Plus, R gave me an old one to borrow for my trip so no worries there.

We slept in a bit and then woke up at R's place. R was still in Langkawi on holiday so we opened the door to find one of R's roommates, L, cooking up some Roti. She made us some and gave us some teh tehrik (my fav). We hit it off quite well, she was excited that she could talk with us because two of her other roommates were French, and their guests never spoke English. She's from KL and we talked about the food vs the Singapore food. She mentioned a place nearby that had Penang food (argued to be the best in Malaysia, and therefore, some - if not THE- best in the world). I jumped on this opportunity because MB and I didn't have the time to squeeze in Penang. We all hopped on the MRT and headed over to the place. 

It was DANK...AWESOME...HAPPY...pretty much as authentic as Penang food can get without being the real thing. We got Penang Laksa, squid/cuttlefish (I can't tell the difference) curry, char keow tow (sp?), and various juices. This was the commencement meal to our hari makan (eating day). We decided to walk off the meal and headed to a few markets to pick up beer and fresh fruit. We tried these small nut looking things that actually have fruit that tastes a lot like Lychee (the name escapes me right now...I think it starts with an 'L'), and some mangosteens. It was hard not to eat everything in sight. We also learned that R lives near the 'red light' district of Singapore, which was funny because I thought Singapore was too polite to have one. Apparently it's pretty obvious at night, but it isn't dangerous or anything like that. The only thing that happens is a man might ask you 'how much?' if you are a woman out alone at night. In which case, it would probably be more dangerous for the man as my fist or foot would meet his face or happy spot.  

We headed back to wash up, enjoy some fruit, and wait for R and his girlfriend (another M) to arrive. I was so excited to meet M as I hadn't met her yet and R spoke so well of her. After the reunion we went out again for some makan and a little sight seeing. This time we got some bakuteh (again with the spelling), which is essentially a clay pot stew of broth and spare ribs. Delish and one of my favorites of Singapore. Afterwards we went to get MB some more foot pads, as his achilles had some blisters from his new sandals. Then we decided to head to Arab street, as no visit with R is complete without a shisha session. Not to mention, MB had never been to a shisha establishment so it was a must. The shisha was great despite the wind (ash) and heat, which by this point, was starting to get to me. 

After we left it was about time for buka pasar, or the fast-breaking market that happens during ramadan to start. We headed to the big mosque, which I had never seen before, and strolled through the market. It's always great to wander through these types of markets, and even better to eat at them, but I was already stuffed at this point, so I enjoyed it with my nose. However, R insisted that we stop by Singapore's signature place to buy some Murtabak, which we were planning to eat 'Egyptian style' or on the hood of one's car. This plan quickly backfired because the nastiest thing I have ever witnessed in Singapore occurred in the parking garage, a broken sewer pipe. NASTY. So we opted to take the food back to R's place instead.

Once again, we washed up and I checked my email to get some info on meeting up with my Spanish friend, N by the Marina Bay footbridge. We had agreed to meet as she had a layover there, but both of us had no way of communicating to one another. We walked by the waterfront at night, which MB hadn't seen anyways (I also haven't, despite the fact I had already been to Singapore last year). It was quite charming and really pretty. We waited around for N for about an hour then gave up to makan (eat) one last time. We headed to a hawker center near the Esplanade and I had some mee goreng (fried noodles, nothing too special as I was full enough by this point) with veggies and MB had some chicken wings (the whole wing, stretched out, with tasty dipping sauce and a delicious glaze). We bumped into other CSers there (CouchSurfers) V and his surfer. I hadn't seen V in over a year so it was cool to bump into him. The other surfer had just came from KL and stayed with someone I know there. We were laughing about the 'small world' effect. Apparently it's quite common in Singapore. They say there are 6 degrees of separation but I have been told by more than one person that in Singapore there are only three. 

R dropped us off at his place (he was staying with M for the night so we would have a bed) and wished us well. I was sad to leave, as it felt too short, but Singapore isn't a cheap place to be, and without jobs it was about as much as our wallets could handle. However, we'll be back for 12 hours at the end of our trip and we will at least get to see R and M one last time.

We passed out almost immediately after being on the go for so long. The next morning we awoke, packed our clean laundry (thanks again for letting us use your washer L!) and said bye to L. We snacked on some kaya toast at the airport before we boarded the plane to Bali.

It was a fun start to the trip to be in some of the big, worldly cities. However, I'm thankful to not have to be at an airport for two weeks and to be taking things at a slower pace. The plan is to spend one week in Bali and one week in Java giving us two weeks in Indo. Indo is my favorite country that I've visited in my life thus far and I'm excited to be back. However it's a bit late and the start of the chapter is better left for another post. It's time for me to put some aloe on my sunburns and retire to the Bale underneath the mosquito net.

selamat malam (goodnight)

-M

Nothing says 'cultural exchange' like a good fart joke. 

written 8/15/2012

Right now I'm sitting in an open kitchen in a location with no address deep in the rice fields of Bali, Indonesia. Although it's a simple 1hr and 45 min plane ride from the location I'm going to write about, it feels as if it is a whole different planet. However, the adventures of the last two and a half days here are left for another post. 

I'm not quite sure when I will actually be able to post this, but I'll do my best to keep all my catch-up posts organized. After our adventures in Hong Kong came to a close we headed south to Singapore. I came to Singapore for the sole reason of seeing friends, in particular R, my egyptian friend who I've seen over 5 times in the past year and in 4 different countries. The plane landed and another friend, S, who I was also looking forward to seeing did us a kind favor by picking us up at the airport and escorting us around for a Saturday night on the town.

Traveling on a budget is impossible in Singapore, which is the main reason why we spent so little time there. I was actually anticipating spending more per day in Hong Kong, but luckily this turned out not to be the case. 

We arrived late (around 10:30 pm) and got out on the town for some grub. S took us to a place that served up some unbeatable butter chicken (a ghee based curry dish) which we mopped up with some naan. The next stop was an Indian club, but not really a dance club. The best way to describe it is a strip club, except the women dance to Indian music (mostly Bhangra I believe) and wear saris. No badonkadonks, cookies, or boobies, but plenty of gawking men. Apparently in India, the men make it rain on the women (ie brush bills off of there palms into the air) but Singapore's prices don't allow for such things. We had a pint there then headed to Clark Quay, (pronounced 'key' by the way) for a tall can on the bridge. We people watched and exchanged stories, it wasn't nearly as wild as my first time to the bridge, but after a long plane ride and MB's struggle to adjust to the time zone, the fact that we were even alive past arrival time is a small feat. After a beer or two we wandered around the club area and ended up going to a cheap place with a minimal cover charge and live music. Don't get me wrong, I love live music, but in most cases in Asia a live music bar can be a terrifying nightmare. However these guys were REALLY good. Granted they were on their last set and played mostly drunk cover songs (think Journey people!) but it was awesome. We danced, had a drink and watched all the complete waste-os try to get some. Overall it was an entertaining night and we stayed up until past 4am which allowed for us to finally get adjusted to the time zone. S, if you're reading this, I left my phone in the cab (again) on the way back from the airport so sorry if you smsed me and I didn't respond. Speaking of my phone, it was on it's last leg (it fell apart multiple times a day and couldn't hold a charge for more than 2 hours) so I don't miss it. Plus, R gave me an old one to borrow for my trip so no worries there.

We slept in a bit and then woke up at R's place. R was still in Langkawi on holiday so we opened the door to find one of R's roommates, L, cooking up some Roti. She made us some and gave us some teh tehrik (my fav). We hit it off quite well, she was excited that she could talk with us because two of her other roommates were French, and their guests never spoke English. She's from KL and we talked about the food vs the Singapore food. She mentioned a place nearby that had Penang food (argued to be the best in Malaysia, and therefore, some - if not THE- best in the world). I jumped on this opportunity because MB and I didn't have the time to squeeze in Penang. We all hopped on the MRT and headed over to the place. 

It was DANK...AWESOME...HAPPY...pretty much as authentic as Penang food can get without being the real thing. We got Penang Laksa, squid/cuttlefish (I can't tell the difference) curry, char keow tow (sp?), and various juices. This was the commencement meal to our hari makan (eating day). We decided to walk off the meal and headed to a few markets to pick up beer and fresh fruit. We tried these small nut looking things that actually have fruit that tastes a lot like Lychee (the name escapes me right now...I think it starts with an 'L'), and some mangosteens. It was hard not to eat everything in sight. We also learned that R lives near the 'red light' district of Singapore, which was funny because I thought Singapore was too polite to have one. Apparently it's pretty obvious at night, but it isn't dangerous or anything like that. The only thing that happens is a man might ask you 'how much?' if you are a woman out alone at night. In which case, it would probably be more dangerous for the man as my fist or foot would meet his face or happy spot.  

We headed back to wash up, enjoy some fruit, and wait for R and his girlfriend (another M) to arrive. I was so excited to meet M as I hadn't met her yet and R spoke so well of her. After the reunion we went out again for some makan and a little sight seeing. This time we got some bakuteh (again with the spelling), which is essentially a clay pot stew of broth and spare ribs. Delish and one of my favorites of Singapore. Afterwards we went to get MB some more foot pads, as his achilles had some blisters from his new sandals. Then we decided to head to Arab street, as no visit with R is complete without a shisha session. Not to mention, MB had never been to a shisha establishment so it was a must. The shisha was great despite the wind (ash) and heat, which by this point, was starting to get to me. 

After we left it was about time for buka pasar, or the fast-breaking market that happens during ramadan to start. We headed to the big mosque, which I had never seen before, and strolled through the market. It's always great to wander through these types of markets, and even better to eat at them, but I was already stuffed at this point, so I enjoyed it with my nose. However, R insisted that we stop by Singapore's signature place to buy some Murtabak, which we were planning to eat 'Egyptian style' or on the hood of one's car. This plan quickly backfired because the nastiest thing I have ever witnessed in Singapore occurred in the parking garage, a broken sewer pipe. NASTY. So we opted to take the food back to R's place instead.

Once again, we washed up and I checked my email to get some info on meeting up with my Spanish friend, N by the Marina Bay footbridge. We had agreed to meet as she had a layover there, but both of us had no way of communicating to one another. We walked by the waterfront at night, which MB hadn't seen anyways (I also haven't, despite the fact I had already been to Singapore last year). It was quite charming and really pretty. We waited around for N for about an hour then gave up to makan (eat) one last time. We headed to a hawker center near the Esplanade and I had some mee goreng (fried noodles, nothing too special as I was full enough by this point) with veggies and MB had some chicken wings (the whole wing, stretched out, with tasty dipping sauce and a delicious glaze). We bumped into other CSers there (CouchSurfers) V and his surfer. I hadn't seen V in over a year so it was cool to bump into him. The other surfer had just came from KL and stayed with someone I know there. We were laughing about the 'small world' effect. Apparently it's quite common in Singapore. They say there are 6 degrees of separation but I have been told by more than one person that in Singapore there are only three. 

R dropped us off at his place (he was staying with M for the night so we would have a bed) and wished us well. I was sad to leave, as it felt too short, but Singapore isn't a cheap place to be, and without jobs it was about as much as our wallets could handle. However, we'll be back for 12 hours at the end of our trip and we will at least get to see R and M one last time.

We passed out almost immediately after being on the go for so long. The next morning we awoke, packed our clean laundry (thanks again for letting us use your washer L!) and said bye to L. We snacked on some kaya toast at the airport before we boarded the plane to Bali.

It was a fun start to the trip to be in some of the big, worldly cities. However, I'm thankful to not have to be at an airport for two weeks and to be taking things at a slower pace. The plan is to spend one week in Bali and one week in Java giving us two weeks in Indo. Indo is my favorite country that I've visited in my life thus far and I'm excited to be back. However it's a bit late and the start of the chapter is better left for another post. It's time for me to put some aloe on my sunburns and retire to the Bale underneath the mosquito net.

selamat malam (goodnight)

-M

Nothing says 'cultural exchange' like a good fart joke. 

written 8/15/2012

Right now I'm sitting in an open kitchen in a location with no address deep in the rice fields of Bali, Indonesia. Although it's a simple 1hr and 45 min plane ride from the location I'm going to write about, it feels as if it is a whole different planet. However, the adventures of the last two and a half days here are left for another post. 

I'm not quite sure when I will actually be able to post this, but I'll do my best to keep all my catch-up posts organized. After our adventures in Hong Kong came to a close we headed south to Singapore. I came to Singapore for the sole reason of seeing friends, in particular R, my egyptian friend who I've seen over 5 times in the past year and in 4 different countries. The plane landed and another friend, S, who I was also looking forward to seeing did us a kind favor by picking us up at the airport and escorting us around for a Saturday night on the town.

Traveling on a budget is impossible in Singapore, which is the main reason why we spent so little time there. I was actually anticipating spending more per day in Hong Kong, but luckily this turned out not to be the case. 

We arrived late (around 10:30 pm) and got out on the town for some grub. S took us to a place that served up some unbeatable butter chicken (a ghee based curry dish) which we mopped up with some naan. The next stop was an Indian club, but not really a dance club. The best way to describe it is a strip club, except the women dance to Indian music (mostly Bhangra I believe) and wear saris. No badonkadonks, cookies, or boobies, but plenty of gawking men. Apparently in India, the men make it rain on the women (ie brush bills off of there palms into the air) but Singapore's prices don't allow for such things. We had a pint there then headed to Clark Quay, (pronounced 'key' by the way) for a tall can on the bridge. We people watched and exchanged stories, it wasn't nearly as wild as my first time to the bridge, but after a long plane ride and MB's struggle to adjust to the time zone, the fact that we were even alive past arrival time is a small feat. After a beer or two we wandered around the club area and ended up going to a cheap place with a minimal cover charge and live music. Don't get me wrong, I love live music, but in most cases in Asia a live music bar can be a terrifying nightmare. However these guys were REALLY good. Granted they were on their last set and played mostly drunk cover songs (think Journey people!) but it was awesome. We danced, had a drink and watched all the complete waste-os try to get some. Overall it was an entertaining night and we stayed up until past 4am which allowed for us to finally get adjusted to the time zone. S, if you're reading this, I left my phone in the cab (again) on the way back from the airport so sorry if you smsed me and I didn't respond. Speaking of my phone, it was on it's last leg (it fell apart multiple times a day and couldn't hold a charge for more than 2 hours) so I don't miss it. Plus, R gave me an old one to borrow for my trip so no worries there.

We slept in a bit and then woke up at R's place. R was still in Langkawi on holiday so we opened the door to find one of R's roommates, L, cooking up some Roti. She made us some and gave us some teh tehrik (my fav). We hit it off quite well, she was excited that she could talk with us because two of her other roommates were French, and their guests never spoke English. She's from KL and we talked about the food vs the Singapore food. She mentioned a place nearby that had Penang food (argued to be the best in Malaysia, and therefore, some - if not THE- best in the world). I jumped on this opportunity because MB and I didn't have the time to squeeze in Penang. We all hopped on the MRT and headed over to the place. 

It was DANK...AWESOME...HAPPY...pretty much as authentic as Penang food can get without being the real thing. We got Penang Laksa, squid/cuttlefish (I can't tell the difference) curry, char keow tow (sp?), and various juices. This was the commencement meal to our hari makan (eating day). We decided to walk off the meal and headed to a few markets to pick up beer and fresh fruit. We tried these small nut looking things that actually have fruit that tastes a lot like Lychee (the name escapes me right now...I think it starts with an 'L'), and some mangosteens. It was hard not to eat everything in sight. We also learned that R lives near the 'red light' district of Singapore, which was funny because I thought Singapore was too polite to have one. Apparently it's pretty obvious at night, but it isn't dangerous or anything like that. The only thing that happens is a man might ask you 'how much?' if you are a woman out alone at night. In which case, it would probably be more dangerous for the man as my fist or foot would meet his face or happy spot.  

We headed back to wash up, enjoy some fruit, and wait for R and his girlfriend (another M) to arrive. I was so excited to meet M as I hadn't met her yet and R spoke so well of her. After the reunion we went out again for some makan and a little sight seeing. This time we got some bakuteh (again with the spelling), which is essentially a clay pot stew of broth and spare ribs. Delish and one of my favorites of Singapore. Afterwards we went to get MB some more foot pads, as his achilles had some blisters from his new sandals. Then we decided to head to Arab street, as no visit with R is complete without a shisha session. Not to mention, MB had never been to a shisha establishment so it was a must. The shisha was great despite the wind (ash) and heat, which by this point, was starting to get to me. 

After we left it was about time for buka pasar, or the fast-breaking market that happens during ramadan to start. We headed to the big mosque, which I had never seen before, and strolled through the market. It's always great to wander through these types of markets, and even better to eat at them, but I was already stuffed at this point, so I enjoyed it with my nose. However, R insisted that we stop by Singapore's signature place to buy some Murtabak, which we were planning to eat 'Egyptian style' or on the hood of one's car. This plan quickly backfired because the nastiest thing I have ever witnessed in Singapore occurred in the parking garage, a broken sewer pipe. NASTY. So we opted to take the food back to R's place instead.

Once again, we washed up and I checked my email to get some info on meeting up with my Spanish friend, N by the Marina Bay footbridge. We had agreed to meet as she had a layover there, but both of us had no way of communicating to one another. We walked by the waterfront at night, which MB hadn't seen anyways (I also haven't, despite the fact I had already been to Singapore last year). It was quite charming and really pretty. We waited around for N for about an hour then gave up to makan (eat) one last time. We headed to a hawker center near the Esplanade and I had some mee goreng (fried noodles, nothing too special as I was full enough by this point) with veggies and MB had some chicken wings (the whole wing, stretched out, with tasty dipping sauce and a delicious glaze). We bumped into other CSers there (CouchSurfers) V and his surfer. I hadn't seen V in over a year so it was cool to bump into him. The other surfer had just came from KL and stayed with someone I know there. We were laughing about the 'small world' effect. Apparently it's quite common in Singapore. They say there are 6 degrees of separation but I have been told by more than one person that in Singapore there are only three. 

R dropped us off at his place (he was staying with M for the night so we would have a bed) and wished us well. I was sad to leave, as it felt too short, but Singapore isn't a cheap place to be, and without jobs it was about as much as our wallets could handle. However, we'll be back for 12 hours at the end of our trip and we will at least get to see R and M one last time.

We passed out almost immediately after being on the go for so long. The next morning we awoke, packed our clean laundry (thanks again for letting us use your washer L!) and said bye to L. We snacked on some kaya toast at the airport before we boarded the plane to Bali.

It was a fun start to the trip to be in some of the big, worldly cities. However, I'm thankful to not have to be at an airport for two weeks and to be taking things at a slower pace. The plan is to spend one week in Bali and one week in Java giving us two weeks in Indo. Indo is my favorite country that I've visited in my life thus far and I'm excited to be back. However it's a bit late and the start of the chapter is better left for another post. It's time for me to put some aloe on my sunburns and retire to the Bale underneath the mosquito net.

selamat malam (goodnight)

-M

Where do I put my pee bucket?

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

     As expected there is never a dull day on this trip. I know it's been a while, and I have written a post about our adventures in Singapore, but it is on my tablet (which doesn't get internet here). We've been in Bali for about 6 days now and it is as amazing as ever. We're staying on the Farm, the same place as last time. Things look slightly different, as the rice paddies are filled with water and growing rice.

     The first day we spent just meandering around the farm and the surrounding properties. It was relaxing and a great break from the hustle and bustle of the cities we had stopped in prior. The sweet smell of the air (a pleasant mix of incense from offerings and farm-y fields) made the smog-stiff air of Hong Kong feel miles away. Bali is amazing like that, even though behind almost every turn (if you know where to go) there is an even more beautiful vista of life at a slower pace, I'm convinced you can enjoy it just as much blind. The sounds of the wind going through the palms reminds me of a gentle summer rain. The feel of the damp earth between my feet and the scruff of Sparky, the most gregarious of the farm dogs, makes me feel right at home.

     I could go on, but I do have quite the story to tell. Our third day here MB and I decided to venture to the Mt. Batur, a place I had been by bus the last time I was here, to enjoy the view and see the lake. I should have known better, but I figured we would avoid the hawking early in the AM. The drive started out amazing. Riding through the hills and forests on a quiet country road (by the standards here, this is a very nice and cleanly paved route). We had the road to ourselves aside from a few daily commuters. Then we hit the first town on the ridge of the mountains. It was beyond crowded. School was getting out for some type of break and people were everywhere. We managed to find the views and only be exposed to minor harassment. The lake was another story. No we don't want to buy your stuff or be ripped off by your services, we just came to see the lake. I wanted to wander around, but I felt extremely un-welcomed if I wasn't to make any purchases. These people currently make a better living than us (we are unemployed). It was obnoxious. We were hesitant to even take the camera out for fear of being pounced on by hawkers and there weren't even that many around yet.

     The day only went downhill from there. I stupidly bought fruit at the top of the hill, without realising that we wouldn't have gotten so badly ripped off if we had just gone a bit down the hill (I didn't know there were stands there too). I was kicking myself half way home because of this. I paid wayyyyyyy too much for some fruit that was a bit old..the lady wouldn't even let me pick it myself! I'm getting upset just thinking about it so I'll change the subject. We were then going to look for a temple (Tampaksiring), got lost on a beautiful stretch of road leading to a village, then couldn't find the place. MB was starving so we gave up our search and headed to Ubud for some eats. I specifically remember getting lost on this road the last time I biked through and this time was no exception.

     I took a turn too early and ended up on a road that I didn't know. Stupid me thought that I would just turn around. However, U-turns are not my forte on a bike so I did what I had been doing all trip, pulling into a driveway, make MB dismount, and turn the bike around. I didn't make it very far in this process. You see, there was this thin patch of gravel (about a foot wide) between me and the most enormous, empty, tourist-bus size lot. The lot was on a hill so I had my hands on the break as I pulled in. Mistake number one. Down went me and down went MB and the bike on top. The bike was fine, MB was a bit banged up, I was in even worse shape. We only hit the ground doing about 5mph, but that's all it took for a nice scraping of the left side of my body. Once again, I was more pissed than anything because I was doing so much not to put MB in a position where this would have happened. He now refuses to get on the bike (smart move on his part haha).

     You would hope the story would just end there, but no, it didn't. We lick our wounds after receiving some iodine from some helpful guys at a woodcarving workshop across the street and head into central Ubud to try to find this place I wanted MB to try. We get going down the right road, park our bike, and head to where I thought the restaurant was located. After finding out I was about 4km short of where I wanted to be we tried to get back on the bike and get going. Now remember, the bike started and ran after we fell, but this time it was as dead as a doorknob. We tried and tried and then attracted a crowd of guys trying to get it started, but no go. The starter had came loose and the bike simply needed to be taken in. We phoned the farm and waited while the guys still tried to jump start the bike. Once the mechanic arrived and came to the same conclusion I had guessed all along about 20 mins later we stood up to leave and walk to some food. MB didn't realise that I had put the phone we were using (which was borrowed) in his helmut and I didn't realise that it was his helmut either. The helmut went up, and the phone went into a pond that was right next to us. The phone was pretty much gone by then. We did what all people would do, take out the battery and blow in it. At this point I was cursing the skies for this series of obnoxious events. One of the guys huddled around the bike told us to go up this steep hill to the market and said they would be able to fix it there. So off we hustled up the hill only to find out that the guy didn't have a blowdryer or the tools to open the phone, but, fear not, all the way back to the center of town (a casual 30min walk) there was a guy who could do it. Brilliant. Sweating and feeling completely helpless we began trudging back down the hill and through town. About half way there the mechanic showed up on the bike and told us it was ok to ride. This was all after a massive mis-communication in which I thought the bike would only work in standard. I have never driven standard and was not about to learn on a motorbike in the middle of Indonesia. Thankfully this turned out not to be the case. We, or more appropriately me, decided to call it a day and head back to the farm because we had no way of getting in touch with our hosts, who were on their way to Ubud to meet us.

     After this whole ordeal we were both exhausted, tired, in pain, and a little fearful that we would not find our hosts on the road. Fortunately they found us and after exchanging stories we agreed to meet back at the farm later. On the way home I stopped at an Indomart to pick up some beer and maybe find a stain remover to get the blood out of my shirt and shorts. We didn't find any stain remover (it turns out that dishwashing detergent and cold water do just fine). But we did find beers and ice cream. So MB and I sat on a few bricks outside of the minimart by the roadside accepting our defeat over some much deserved ice cream bars. We laughed it off as best we could. We are on a six week journey through some tough to negotiate parts of the world. Accidents, in one form or another are bound to happen. Plus, I am convinced bad things come in threes so there wasn't much more that could have happened that day.

     Bad days happen. Without them how would you know what a good day is anyway? I still love Bali just the same, although I dream of being able to through rotten fruit at that lady on the top of the mountain. We were supposed to leave today for Bromo in east Java, but MB's eyes have been bothering him a lot and he didn't want to risk exposing them to the sulfur-ridden peak of Bromo. No biggy, we saw it from the air which is probably prettier than seeing it from the ground anyway. Instead we are heading to Surabaya for a day, then onwards to Yogya.

I'll post on Singapore later.

Family and friends we miss you dearly! Someone give Nina kisses for us!

-M

The Journey to Fuk Man Road

     So Blogger is being ultra lame right now, making this post difficult to edit, so my appologies for exceptionally poor English...

     We have learned a few things since our arrival. First, R, our host here is amazing. Although he's an expat (from Amerrrrica) he's been here for two years and has lots of insight into the goings on in HK. He also knows all the great places to eat and we have been eating well!

More after the break

     So Blogger is being ultra lame right now, making this post difficult to edit, so my appologies for exceptionally poor English...

     We have learned a few things since our arrival. First, R, our host here is amazing. Although he's an expat (from Amerrrrica) he's been here for two years and has lots of insight into the goings on in HK. He also knows all the great places to eat and we have been eating well!

More after the break

     So Blogger is being ultra lame right now, making this post difficult to edit, so my appologies for exceptionally poor English...

     We have learned a few things since our arrival. First, R, our host here is amazing. Although he's an expat (from Amerrrrica) he's been here for two years and has lots of insight into the goings on in HK. He also knows all the great places to eat and we have been eating well!

More after the break

     So Blogger is being ultra lame right now, making this post difficult to edit, so my appologies for exceptionally poor English...

     We have learned a few things since our arrival. First, R, our host here is amazing. Although he's an expat (from Amerrrrica) he's been here for two years and has lots of insight into the goings on in HK. He also knows all the great places to eat and we have been eating well!

More after the break

Written Yesterday

Notes from yesterday's adventures...the internet here is spotty

Yesterday...I think...I spent the day with C in San Fran. I'll keep it brief because OliverNina will be doing a post on the adventures, but in short it was awesome. The weather was beautiful and this shot about sums it up. I also had the added bonus of seeing an old friend M. Wish I could have spent more time with her, but life is crazy. 

So the only appropriate way to officially start out my first blog post in Asia is to be somewhere completely weird. I'm in a non-descriptive building in Kowloon Hong Kong. Which, unknown to me until a few minutes ago, is on the mainland. I'm sitting on my bag with one sore bum (14hr plane rides do these things to you) in what appears to be the lobby of place we are staying in tonight. Although you wouldn't know it from an alcove in a hallway if it weren't for the sign on the door. On second thought, 'lobby' is an extreme understatement. I'm in a hallway with a small computer and a sign that reads 'lunch/dinner time call me, will be right back' except it's 8:30 in the am and I don't have a sim card so I'm SOL.

We are here, waiting for Simon, in what I've gathered to be the building we are supposed to be staying in tonight. Tomorrow we will be moving onwards to stay at a CSers place (that is if I ever get a chance to figure out how one gets a SIM card in these parts). 

I'm excited for the journey ahead and even more excited to have MB here. His current state of absolute culture shock is quite entertaining. Watching him sit on a stool made for a person about half his size  and try to decipher a map of Hong Kong is something out of a comedy sketch. His opening line upon arrival in this 'lobby' was something along the lines of "the organizational system here has one  point: making no sense." Very true. Having been to Asia a few times I had a subtle idea of what to expect upon arrival. However, nothing could have prepared me for the drive past the international industrial ports....boxes...boxes...and MORE boxes. It literally never ended. It made you wonder not only how many cargo containers of contraband and humans there were, damn the world has a lot of shit in it. 

Simon is here! to be continued...

Part II: Into the CF frying pan

We spent the morning wandering around Hong Kong, on the Kowloon side of things. By wandering I really mean getting lost, as I think almost every turn we decided to take was the wrong one. Lots of back tracking, lots of confusion, and lots of WTF moments. But hey, it's Asia and that's part of the experience. It really doesn't matter how nice things are or how much English there is getting used to being back in a place that operates on a completely different set of rules takes a little time. 

I've never been to China, even though Hong Kong isn't technically China, it's enough to feel like a kick in the pants. It's bloody hot...I mean really effing hot. And muggy...it was 86 degrees by 7:30am. The roads here make no damn sense and randomly enjoy changing names (although I WILL say that everything is labeled, which is nice). It's annoying because although you can jay walk here, they do corral you to certain points of inconvenient crosswalks (like half-way down a street you don't need to go down). The pollution is not a myth. What I thought was a foggy mist upon landing is a perpetual haze of eye-burning car/factory farts. 

Alas, enough complaining it is an amazing organism of a city. There is a familiar hustle and bustle to the place like that of NYC, the skyline is absolutely stunning (and enormous). The dim sum we had for late breakfast wasn't half bad, and the place isn't as expensive as I first thought. Groceries are reasonable (we bought two large beers, two yogurts, and some mango for under ten bucks). I've also found that help is everywhere. There are people in the subways eager to help you figure out how the hell the whole thing works (the lines are easy to figure out, it's the station exits and entrances that are a mystery). The tourism stations are a huge plus (hey, I came all this way, I'm going to do some cliche sites!). There is definitely enough to do in the amount of time we are here. 

Today we walked around the harbor front and got some skyline views..this was where I was supposed to put pictures...but I can't figure out how to do it...grrrrr. I'll try upoloading to facebook and then linking them in...

Also went to the flower market after getting lost in a more...er...industrial part of town.

Next to the flower market is the bird market. It was pretty neat because the tourists either hadn't arrived or had already gone through so it was quiet and all you could here in a city filled with machines was the chirping of birds. 

Right now we are taking that (much needed) mid day shower, basking in the air con, and trying to gain some strength to stay awake and adjust to the time (we've been up since around 2am local time...blurg). This evening's plan is to see some night skyline, maybe grab a beer somewhere, and hit up the night market for some cheap eats. Tomorrow we are going to tour around Hong Kong Island and meet our CS host. 

Cheers from the road

-M and MB

Notes from yesterday's adventures...the internet here is spotty

Yesterday...I think...I spent the day with C in San Fran. I'll keep it brief because OliverNina will be doing a post on the adventures, but in short it was awesome. The weather was beautiful and this shot about sums it up. I also had the added bonus of seeing an old friend M. Wish I could have spent more time with her, but life is crazy. 

So the only appropriate way to officially start out my first blog post in Asia is to be somewhere completely weird. I'm in a non-descriptive building in Kowloon Hong Kong. Which, unknown to me until a few minutes ago, is on the mainland. I'm sitting on my bag with one sore bum (14hr plane rides do these things to you) in what appears to be the lobby of place we are staying in tonight. Although you wouldn't know it from an alcove in a hallway if it weren't for the sign on the door. On second thought, 'lobby' is an extreme understatement. I'm in a hallway with a small computer and a sign that reads 'lunch/dinner time call me, will be right back' except it's 8:30 in the am and I don't have a sim card so I'm SOL.

We are here, waiting for Simon, in what I've gathered to be the building we are supposed to be staying in tonight. Tomorrow we will be moving onwards to stay at a CSers place (that is if I ever get a chance to figure out how one gets a SIM card in these parts). 

I'm excited for the journey ahead and even more excited to have MB here. His current state of absolute culture shock is quite entertaining. Watching him sit on a stool made for a person about half his size  and try to decipher a map of Hong Kong is something out of a comedy sketch. His opening line upon arrival in this 'lobby' was something along the lines of "the organizational system here has one  point: making no sense." Very true. Having been to Asia a few times I had a subtle idea of what to expect upon arrival. However, nothing could have prepared me for the drive past the international industrial ports....boxes...boxes...and MORE boxes. It literally never ended. It made you wonder not only how many cargo containers of contraband and humans there were, damn the world has a lot of shit in it. 

Simon is here! to be continued...

Part II: Into the CF frying pan

We spent the morning wandering around Hong Kong, on the Kowloon side of things. By wandering I really mean getting lost, as I think almost every turn we decided to take was the wrong one. Lots of back tracking, lots of confusion, and lots of WTF moments. But hey, it's Asia and that's part of the experience. It really doesn't matter how nice things are or how much English there is getting used to being back in a place that operates on a completely different set of rules takes a little time. 

I've never been to China, even though Hong Kong isn't technically China, it's enough to feel like a kick in the pants. It's bloody hot...I mean really effing hot. And muggy...it was 86 degrees by 7:30am. The roads here make no damn sense and randomly enjoy changing names (although I WILL say that everything is labeled, which is nice). It's annoying because although you can jay walk here, they do corral you to certain points of inconvenient crosswalks (like half-way down a street you don't need to go down). The pollution is not a myth. What I thought was a foggy mist upon landing is a perpetual haze of eye-burning car/factory farts. 

Alas, enough complaining it is an amazing organism of a city. There is a familiar hustle and bustle to the place like that of NYC, the skyline is absolutely stunning (and enormous). The dim sum we had for late breakfast wasn't half bad, and the place isn't as expensive as I first thought. Groceries are reasonable (we bought two large beers, two yogurts, and some mango for under ten bucks). I've also found that help is everywhere. There are people in the subways eager to help you figure out how the hell the whole thing works (the lines are easy to figure out, it's the station exits and entrances that are a mystery). The tourism stations are a huge plus (hey, I came all this way, I'm going to do some cliche sites!). There is definitely enough to do in the amount of time we are here. 

Today we walked around the harbor front and got some skyline views..this was where I was supposed to put pictures...but I can't figure out how to do it...grrrrr. I'll try upoloading to facebook and then linking them in...

Also went to the flower market after getting lost in a more...er...industrial part of town.

Next to the flower market is the bird market. It was pretty neat because the tourists either hadn't arrived or had already gone through so it was quiet and all you could here in a city filled with machines was the chirping of birds. 

Right now we are taking that (much needed) mid day shower, basking in the air con, and trying to gain some strength to stay awake and adjust to the time (we've been up since around 2am local time...blurg). This evening's plan is to see some night skyline, maybe grab a beer somewhere, and hit up the night market for some cheap eats. Tomorrow we are going to tour around Hong Kong Island and meet our CS host. 

Cheers from the road

-M and MB

Notes from yesterday's adventures...the internet here is spotty

Yesterday...I think...I spent the day with C in San Fran. I'll keep it brief because OliverNina will be doing a post on the adventures, but in short it was awesome. The weather was beautiful and this shot about sums it up. I also had the added bonus of seeing an old friend M. Wish I could have spent more time with her, but life is crazy. 

So the only appropriate way to officially start out my first blog post in Asia is to be somewhere completely weird. I'm in a non-descriptive building in Kowloon Hong Kong. Which, unknown to me until a few minutes ago, is on the mainland. I'm sitting on my bag with one sore bum (14hr plane rides do these things to you) in what appears to be the lobby of place we are staying in tonight. Although you wouldn't know it from an alcove in a hallway if it weren't for the sign on the door. On second thought, 'lobby' is an extreme understatement. I'm in a hallway with a small computer and a sign that reads 'lunch/dinner time call me, will be right back' except it's 8:30 in the am and I don't have a sim card so I'm SOL.

We are here, waiting for Simon, in what I've gathered to be the building we are supposed to be staying in tonight. Tomorrow we will be moving onwards to stay at a CSers place (that is if I ever get a chance to figure out how one gets a SIM card in these parts). 

I'm excited for the journey ahead and even more excited to have MB here. His current state of absolute culture shock is quite entertaining. Watching him sit on a stool made for a person about half his size  and try to decipher a map of Hong Kong is something out of a comedy sketch. His opening line upon arrival in this 'lobby' was something along the lines of "the organizational system here has one  point: making no sense." Very true. Having been to Asia a few times I had a subtle idea of what to expect upon arrival. However, nothing could have prepared me for the drive past the international industrial ports....boxes...boxes...and MORE boxes. It literally never ended. It made you wonder not only how many cargo containers of contraband and humans there were, damn the world has a lot of shit in it. 

Simon is here! to be continued...

Part II: Into the CF frying pan

We spent the morning wandering around Hong Kong, on the Kowloon side of things. By wandering I really mean getting lost, as I think almost every turn we decided to take was the wrong one. Lots of back tracking, lots of confusion, and lots of WTF moments. But hey, it's Asia and that's part of the experience. It really doesn't matter how nice things are or how much English there is getting used to being back in a place that operates on a completely different set of rules takes a little time. 

I've never been to China, even though Hong Kong isn't technically China, it's enough to feel like a kick in the pants. It's bloody hot...I mean really effing hot. And muggy...it was 86 degrees by 7:30am. The roads here make no damn sense and randomly enjoy changing names (although I WILL say that everything is labeled, which is nice). It's annoying because although you can jay walk here, they do corral you to certain points of inconvenient crosswalks (like half-way down a street you don't need to go down). The pollution is not a myth. What I thought was a foggy mist upon landing is a perpetual haze of eye-burning car/factory farts. 

Alas, enough complaining it is an amazing organism of a city. There is a familiar hustle and bustle to the place like that of NYC, the skyline is absolutely stunning (and enormous). The dim sum we had for late breakfast wasn't half bad, and the place isn't as expensive as I first thought. Groceries are reasonable (we bought two large beers, two yogurts, and some mango for under ten bucks). I've also found that help is everywhere. There are people in the subways eager to help you figure out how the hell the whole thing works (the lines are easy to figure out, it's the station exits and entrances that are a mystery). The tourism stations are a huge plus (hey, I came all this way, I'm going to do some cliche sites!). There is definitely enough to do in the amount of time we are here. 

Today we walked around the harbor front and got some skyline views..this was where I was supposed to put pictures...but I can't figure out how to do it...grrrrr. I'll try upoloading to facebook and then linking them in...

Also went to the flower market after getting lost in a more...er...industrial part of town.

Next to the flower market is the bird market. It was pretty neat because the tourists either hadn't arrived or had already gone through so it was quiet and all you could here in a city filled with machines was the chirping of birds. 

Right now we are taking that (much needed) mid day shower, basking in the air con, and trying to gain some strength to stay awake and adjust to the time (we've been up since around 2am local time...blurg). This evening's plan is to see some night skyline, maybe grab a beer somewhere, and hit up the night market for some cheap eats. Tomorrow we are going to tour around Hong Kong Island and meet our CS host. 

Cheers from the road

-M and MB

Notes from yesterday's adventures...the internet here is spotty

Yesterday...I think...I spent the day with C in San Fran. I'll keep it brief because OliverNina will be doing a post on the adventures, but in short it was awesome. The weather was beautiful and this shot about sums it up. I also had the added bonus of seeing an old friend M. Wish I could have spent more time with her, but life is crazy. 

So the only appropriate way to officially start out my first blog post in Asia is to be somewhere completely weird. I'm in a non-descriptive building in Kowloon Hong Kong. Which, unknown to me until a few minutes ago, is on the mainland. I'm sitting on my bag with one sore bum (14hr plane rides do these things to you) in what appears to be the lobby of place we are staying in tonight. Although you wouldn't know it from an alcove in a hallway if it weren't for the sign on the door. On second thought, 'lobby' is an extreme understatement. I'm in a hallway with a small computer and a sign that reads 'lunch/dinner time call me, will be right back' except it's 8:30 in the am and I don't have a sim card so I'm SOL.

We are here, waiting for Simon, in what I've gathered to be the building we are supposed to be staying in tonight. Tomorrow we will be moving onwards to stay at a CSers place (that is if I ever get a chance to figure out how one gets a SIM card in these parts). 

I'm excited for the journey ahead and even more excited to have MB here. His current state of absolute culture shock is quite entertaining. Watching him sit on a stool made for a person about half his size  and try to decipher a map of Hong Kong is something out of a comedy sketch. His opening line upon arrival in this 'lobby' was something along the lines of "the organizational system here has one  point: making no sense." Very true. Having been to Asia a few times I had a subtle idea of what to expect upon arrival. However, nothing could have prepared me for the drive past the international industrial ports....boxes...boxes...and MORE boxes. It literally never ended. It made you wonder not only how many cargo containers of contraband and humans there were, damn the world has a lot of shit in it. 

Simon is here! to be continued...

Part II: Into the CF frying pan

We spent the morning wandering around Hong Kong, on the Kowloon side of things. By wandering I really mean getting lost, as I think almost every turn we decided to take was the wrong one. Lots of back tracking, lots of confusion, and lots of WTF moments. But hey, it's Asia and that's part of the experience. It really doesn't matter how nice things are or how much English there is getting used to being back in a place that operates on a completely different set of rules takes a little time. 

I've never been to China, even though Hong Kong isn't technically China, it's enough to feel like a kick in the pants. It's bloody hot...I mean really effing hot. And muggy...it was 86 degrees by 7:30am. The roads here make no damn sense and randomly enjoy changing names (although I WILL say that everything is labeled, which is nice). It's annoying because although you can jay walk here, they do corral you to certain points of inconvenient crosswalks (like half-way down a street you don't need to go down). The pollution is not a myth. What I thought was a foggy mist upon landing is a perpetual haze of eye-burning car/factory farts. 

Alas, enough complaining it is an amazing organism of a city. There is a familiar hustle and bustle to the place like that of NYC, the skyline is absolutely stunning (and enormous). The dim sum we had for late breakfast wasn't half bad, and the place isn't as expensive as I first thought. Groceries are reasonable (we bought two large beers, two yogurts, and some mango for under ten bucks). I've also found that help is everywhere. There are people in the subways eager to help you figure out how the hell the whole thing works (the lines are easy to figure out, it's the station exits and entrances that are a mystery). The tourism stations are a huge plus (hey, I came all this way, I'm going to do some cliche sites!). There is definitely enough to do in the amount of time we are here. 

Today we walked around the harbor front and got some skyline views..this was where I was supposed to put pictures...but I can't figure out how to do it...grrrrr. I'll try upoloading to facebook and then linking them in...

Also went to the flower market after getting lost in a more...er...industrial part of town.

Next to the flower market is the bird market. It was pretty neat because the tourists either hadn't arrived or had already gone through so it was quiet and all you could here in a city filled with machines was the chirping of birds. 

Right now we are taking that (much needed) mid day shower, basking in the air con, and trying to gain some strength to stay awake and adjust to the time (we've been up since around 2am local time...blurg). This evening's plan is to see some night skyline, maybe grab a beer somewhere, and hit up the night market for some cheap eats. Tomorrow we are going to tour around Hong Kong Island and meet our CS host. 

Cheers from the road

-M and MB