Lots of Ice, Home is Nice, Jerry Rice?

My 36-hour day is winding down to a close and as you can tell from the title it's wearing a bit on my faculties. Something I didn't realize before taking off from Beijing this afternoon (yes same day) at 5pm is that when you fly between two cities in the northern hemisphere, the most direct route is not parallel to the equator as the in-flight catalog would have you believe, but rather somewhere over the North Pole. This makes for beautiful, cloudless, scenery below, however during the summer months, when these regions lack nighttime, it makes for a very long and confusing day.

(Beijing to Chicago flight path)

United Flight 850 from Beijing to Chicago left China about 2 hours before the sun should have begun to set; however, instead of dimming as you would expect, the light outside of the plane windows actually grew brighter as we headed north. Finally when we arrived in Chicago around 4:30pm on the same day, 12 hours into the future and, according to local time, 30 minutes into the past, the sun was nearly in the exact same position as it had been when we left. East-West 'time travel' is a convenient trick for those wishing to traverse the globe in a single afternoon, but it plays some crazy tricks on the mind, and leaves you seriously dragging at the end of what on arrival seems like a normal length day.

(North Pole ice 6 miles below; where are the drowning polar bears?)

Fortunately, my wits were not so far lost as to let me miss a new but familiar face when I touched down in Jackson, MS around 11:30pm this evening. Along with the other 50-odd weary travelers who had just arrived from Dallas or Charlotte was 13-time pro-bowler, Mississippi native, and Valley State alumni Jerry Rice. Without shoulder pads or a Montana rocket in his outstretched arm, I was slow to recognize Rice; however, after seeing the helmet tattoo on his right bicep, I quickly realized that even the greatest receiver in NFL history has to wait in line for his bags when he comes to Jackson. However, unlike myself and a handful of others from the two flights, Mr. Rice actually received his luggage. Fortunately, we had just enough time to snap a quick photo before he headed outside to a stretch limo and I headed upstairs to file a missing luggage claim at the UA desk. This last memorable moment of the trip reinforced the idea that had been driven home so many times over the last 10 weeks: no matter how much you plan your travels, things will go wrong; however, with this same unwanted uncertainty comes the chance for great adventure and the occasional pleasant surprise.

(Jerry Rice at baggage claim in JAN)

Now that the 10-week trip is over and my real job starts in a week, this should be my last post for a while (pending dire economic downturn or winning the lottery). Thanks for following along; I hope that you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing. There's a few extra photos in the flickr gallery so make sure to check it out one last time.

Beijing to Chicago in only an hour and a half

KT slept in yesterday when I visited the forbidden city, then we both headed out for the Pearl Market before finally coming home around 10pm with a body-sized duffle bag of trinkets, knick-knacks , and other souveniers for our families and friends back home.

I have another 6 hours in China before my United flight takes off from Beijing to Chicago (4pm). The 15 hour flight leaves at 4:20pm and amazing arrives the same day at 5:40pm, just 1:20 later. Hopefully, most of this unearned time will be spend accumulating the sleep I'll need to stave off jet lag. After the last ten weeks of catching Z's in buses, trains, airplanes, and sweaty hostel beds, it hopefully won't be too hard.

China: more than meets the eye

(Outside the Forbidden City, Beijing)

KT and I are in Beijing right now after three days in Bangkok and a whirlwind 36 hours in Shanghai. The PRC is KT's home turf, having studied here during college and returned several times since, however even with a savvy guide fluent in Mandarin, China has been an entirely different experience from anywhere else we've been. In all respects, the eastern cities (Shanghai/Beijing/etc) are 'first world' locals with all the amenities you'd expect to find at home. There's no shortage of 2 RMB ($0.25) liter beers or $1.50 restaurant dinners; however, walk a few blocks and you can just as conveniently spend $12 on a movie ticket and $6 on the accompanying single scoop vanilla ice cream cone.

Even more surprising than the western prices is the fact that almost always its the Chinese rather than the tourists who are paying them. China is a country 1.3 billion (the US has roughly 300 million) and despite the fact that the majority of these people live in the mainland on relatively low wages, those in the cities are surprisingly affluent and wealthy. This affluence, combined with national pride, means that in China, unlike anywhere else we've visited, there is very little desire to learn English. From South Africa to Vietnam, every restaurant worker, street hawker, or hotel attendant had a working knowledge, if not fluency, in English since doing so was the only way to ensure their livelihood. However, in China, unlike the rest of these places, the majority of tourists are not American, Australian, or European, but rather native Chinese. Chinese, unlike most of the inhabitants of the countries we've visited, have the money to travel as well as the desire to do so at home rather than abroad. Even on a Monday afternoon the flag-waving, matching t-shirt clad crowds of Chinese tourists in Tianamen square and the forbidden city numbered in the tens of thousands. Although most street sings are labeled in both Chinese and English, almost all advertisements and non-government signs are completely in Chinese and hardly anyone, except in the nicest hotels, speaks more than a few words of English.

Being in a country which for the first time reminds you so much of home -- in its cleanliness, lack of fashion sense, body type, and taste for consumerism -- but at the same time is so alien -- in its speech and language -- has been an incredibly new experience. I don't know if my impression of China will be better or worse than any of the other cultures we've parachuted in on, but so far I do know it'll be different. Keep an eye on the flickr gallery for photos; access to the collaborative web 2.0 tools that we take for granted at home is tenuous, if legal, but I'll do my best to keep it updated.

Defying Death in Ho Chi Minh City

Below is a video that i shot from the back of a motorcycle taxi in Saigon on my way to the consulate to get more passport pages last week. My eyes were closed through most of this, but fortunately the camera I was holding in my outstretched arm kept rolling.



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Vietnam Robot Toilet

Thanks to SM and KB for letting me film in their bathroom. Make sure to keep an eye on the flickr gallery for more shots from Vietnam.

Ho Chi Minh and Colonel Sanders: Same Person?

There is only one thing in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) as ubiquitous as the portraits and avenues dedicated to Ho Chi Minh and that is the Kentucky Fried Chicken's. There is no chain restaurant in the city with as many storefronts or with as wide a footprint. Vietnamese, much like the Chinese, are obsessed with KFC, yet one cannot help but wonder if this is due more to the Colonel's striking resemblence to their revered leader than to his delectable blend of herbs and spices. There are several websites dedicated to the phenomen which explore the similarities (both were born in 1890 and worked as cooks) between Colonel Sanders and Uncle Ho.

(coincidence?)

I've been under the weather since we arrived in Saigon five days ago and haven't been able to update the blog. Fortunately, not much has happened besides lots of movies being watched and gatorade being drunken. I left Saigon yesterday on a short flight to Hoi An, a tiny coastal town, which is one of the most well-preserved examples of colonial architecture in the country. Below are some pictures from the last week.

(monks posing for a photo in Phnom Penh)

(Along Route 1 - Phnom Penh to Saigon highway)

(advertisement on Sony's tuktuk)

Make sure to check out the flickr gallery for more photos from Vietnam and Cambodia.

Bazookas, Bones, and Bootleg DVD's

In the newly capitalist parts of South East Asia, there're few things that aren't for sale. Bottles of Johnnie Walker Black adorn the walls of even the smallest internet cafe, $1.50 bootleg dvd shops flaunt their wares with impunity on the main riverfront boulevard, and even the wildest fantasy is just a dusty motorcycle taxi's ride away -- including the chance to fire a rocket launcher.

(Cambodia on the map)

In the early 1980's when I was trading diapers for 'big-boy pants', Cambodia's Khmer Rouge was wrapping up a genocidal campaign that would subsequently claim the lives of nearly one -quarter of the country's population. With international disdain for western paternalism in SE Asian affairs following the Vietnam War, Cambodia was left to it's own devices for almost two decades. It took a 1978 invasion by neighboring Vietnam and a bloody decade-long war to finally remove the Khmer Rouge from power. Only in 1991, after a comprehensive peace settlement was reached in Paris, did Cambodia finally begin to rebuild.

After a $2 billion infusion from the UN and 15 years of help from governments and NGO's, Cambodia appears to be well on its way to recovery. The country is cleaner than India, safer than South Africa, and friendlier and easier to navigate than nearly any of the other places we have visited. The surface appearance of a healthy and progressive society, does not cover the scars of nearly a half-century of conflict stretching from the Vietnam war to the late 80's. Landmine victims walk the street with crudely-made prosthetics and over 60% of the current population is under the age of 30.

Bridging the gap between gung-ho capitalism and Cambodia's dark past is an industry, which in my experience, is unique only to a few countries in SE Asia. Most of Cambodia's weapons arsenal has been dismantled since '91; however, much of it still remains, and today, what Western authorities failed to destroy in the recent decades, Western tourists are slowly eliminating (for a price) through a small network of locally-run exotic firing ranges.

Emblazoned on our driver Sony's tuk-tuk is the hand-written sign -- "Need shooting rang. Want to fir AK47". Since hearing Anne's story about her experience firing an AK-47 during a trip to Saigon, it had been on my list of things to consider; however as these shooting ranges are illegal in Cambodia, it was not something I wanted to do before we got to Vietnam. Both of Sony's parents were killed by the Khmer Rouge; however, the fact that the regime's weapons are still used for tourist purposes does not seem to bother him enough to remove the advertisement from his cab.

We didn't make it clear to Sony that we probably didn't want to visit an illegal shooting range. So on our first day, as we thought we were on our way to the killing fields at Choeung Ek, KT and I found ourselves bouncing down a narrow dirt road wondering if we were really still behind the legions of Japanese tourist mini-buses we had been following earlier.

(Dusty ride outside of Phnom Penh)

The range looked like any of the thousands of outdoor restaurants we'd seen throughout the Cambodian countryside. There were plastic chairs set out along tables with attentive teenage waiters; however, hanging on the walls in place of the Angkor beer posters there were machine guns, and on the menu we were handed, instead of ten variations on fried rice, there were firing prices for all of the in-house weapons: "$25 for 20 anti-aircraft rounds...$36 for the M-16, $60 for hand grenades, (and my favorite) $200 for the rocket launcher."

(stock photo; cameras were not allowed where we went)

If not for the giggly British gap-yearers gritting their teeth for Rambo photos in front of the arsenal, I would have been severely weirded out. Like a deer in headlights, I stared at the menu for a few minutes trying to somehow process what I had just seen - "rocket launcher!?" -- If I'd had $200 and no conscious, I probably would have stayed; however, since our best information said what we were doing was illegal and, as we thought, somehow inappropriate considering one of the country's largest mass graves was just a few kilometers away, we decided to leave.

(actual photo; exposed human remains around Cheoung Ek)

Sony, who had probably shuffled hundreds of giddy tourists to this same site in the past, seemed a little surprised that we didn't want to stay. However, I like to think that even though he didn't see anything wrong with what we were doing, he understood how we did. Instead of firing bazookas, we spent the rest of the afternoon touring the killing fields at Cheoung Ek, the torture facilities at S-21, and browsing the enormous library of bootleg DVD's at the Russian Market. Although copyright infringement is technically illegal outside of Cambodia, it seemed more appropriate skirting the law in support the country's modern technological future rather than its dark violent past.

(Ocean's 13, Die Hard 4.0, Transformers... straight to DVD?)

Make sure to check out my Cambodia Flickr Gallery.

Goodmorning Cambodia

called called Wheeeeeeeew --- that one word is really the only way to sum up the last week since KT and I left for Thailand. It's been a while since I've posted and it'll certainly take a few sittings to regurgitate everything that's happened to us in the last week.

Since our last post we've flown from beautiful Railay (Thailand) to Bangkok, on to Siem Reap (Cambodia), met up with two of my friends from high school, seen Angkor Wat then packed up again for a six hour bus ride into Cambodia's capital Phnom Penh.

(BN marveling at Beng Mealea)

The temples surrounding Angkor Wat are amazing in both their size and expanse. Although you could easily spend a month seeing every temple, we felt as if we'd had our fill after just two whirlwind days. Despite the enormity of the site, there is very little in the way of personal space. Hoping for some privacy on our first day, Anne, John, KT and showed up at 5:00AM. Instead of a quiet, contemplative sunrise, we were greeted by tour buses, hot air balloons, and at least 300 white sock and dress shoe clad (predominately Chinese) tourists -- just at one temple. This theme carried on throughout the day with some wats (temples) being so crowded that you couldn't make it out the exit without throwing a shoulder or two pry yourself from among the sea of fanny packs.

(I think we're turning Japanese)

Fortunately, we had a car for first day and a Tuk-tuk for the second, which gave us the freedom to venture out to some of the more secluded and less-touristed spots - including Beng Mealea (the Indiana Jones temple) and Bantey Srei (one of the most elaborate and well-preserved). Beng Mealea, basically untouched since its re-discovery was by far the highlight of the stop and one of my favorite destinations of the entire trip. You have no idea how much the other wats have been uncovered and reconstructed until you see one that has been left to the encroaching jungle. A thousand years of moss, roots, trees and vines can leave one of these enormous structures unrecognizable, and I'm sure that a thousand more could easily destroy it all together.

(KT waiting out the rain at Banteay Srei)

After Angkor Wat and the surrounding sites, KT and I spent some time enjoying the city then on our last night we met up with my friend Seton and his wife Katie Bee. The two were almost three weeks into their 52-day South East Asia backpacker honeymoon. The following morning, today, we hopped a tuk-tuk to a dusty bus stop outside the city then boarded the Mekong Express for a 6-hour ride to Cambodia's capital -- Phnom Penh. We'll be in Phnom Penh for another few days while we tour the Killing Fields and sort out of Vietnamese and Chinese Visas.

Make sure to check out the flickr gallery; there's a ton of new photos both from Thailand and Cambodia.

(KTB feeding the crocs at a restaurant in Siem Reap; What a honeymoon)

(Cambodian subsidiary for Tyson Inc.)

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Railay Beach Thailand -- Pretty Close to Paradise

KT and I arrived in Railay, Thailand yesterday after an overnight flight from Mumbai to Bangkok and one more connecting flight, bus trip, and boat ride. Railay is about as close to the 'perfect destination' as I could imagine. In a way it is everything that the big cities we visited in India were not -- there are no cars (dogs or cows), the food is inexpensive (and clean), the electricity is consistent, the water and beaches are pristine, the accomodation and massages are cheap ($18 w/ac and $6/hr respecitively), and the people are incredibly helpful and friendly.

(KT and LS on Railay East)

Where as India was an adventure (fyi: here is the WSJ article that mentions the 116 monthly death toll on the Mumbai commuter line) Railay is a vacation, and one of the best I have ever been on. On our first afternoon RM, LS, KT and I all went for 1 hour thai massages then had banana smoothies, before heading to a beautiful coved beach that we shared with about 5 other people. Yesterday, three of us hired Thailand's former #1 female speed climber for a half day of climbing instruction on some of the best rock I've ever seen.

(Climbing Railay East)

RM and LS have been here for about a week and will likely stay another after KT and I head out tomorrow for Siem Reap, Cambodia to meet Anne and John. We could easily spend another here ourselves, however I doubt our experience could ever be as incredible as the wonderful initial shock that we experienced on the first day. Hopefully after a few weeks in Cambodia and Laos, we can find somewhere else just as nice.

(RM's feet after a week fo climbing in Railay)

Make sure to check out the flickr gallery for photos from Thailand as well as some others from our last days in India.

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Goodbye India, Hello Thailand

KT and I are leaving Bombay tonight on an 11:30pm Air India flight to Bangkok. After our 5:00am arrival we're catching a $40 10:15am Air Asia flight down to Krabi where we'll hit the water for a 45 minute long-boat ride to Railay Beach (see photo left). There're no secret maps scribbled in blood, but the journey sounds just as adventurous and the beaches will hopefully be just as beautiful.

On a related nerd note: In case you've ever tried tried dialing abroad or calling someone in the US from a foreign country, you're probably familiar with the jumble of access codes and triggers that can make this next to impossible. Trying to call RM in Thailand (from India) today I stumbled upon maybe one of the greatest traveler's online resources ever -- TimeandDate.com (use this link) -- just enter the country that you're calling from, the country and city where you're calling to, the number (or any variation of it) that you're calling, and this wonderful web app spits out the exact digits that you need to connect. It's incredible. Try it out if you want and give me a call in Mumbai, ps its a Delhi number: 9910152835.

Monsoons, Indian Taxis, and Karma

An integral part of both Hindu and Buddhist traditions is the concept of Karma - the sum all one's actions, and how these actions affect their past and present experiences. Judging from our experiences with Indian taxis so far, I believe that I am seriously short on good Karma.

During my first night in Delhi with KT, our cab driver ran out of gas on the highway, at least 20km from our hotel. With rickshaws, cars, and commercial trucks honking and whizzing around our tiny stalled sedan, the driver coasted on fumes for about half a mile before I had to jump out help him push the car through a series of mud puddles onto the nearest median (keep in mind, this is a cab which the Hilton Trident Gurgaon - a $400 a night, 5-star hotel - called for us). Frustrated with the driver's lack of a cell phone and non-attempts at finding a solution to the sort-of-important gas problem, we abandoned him and the sedan and flagged down one of the dusty auto-rickshaws whizzing past us on the highway. KT and I eventually made it to our hotel and wrote the experience off as something that must happen once to everyone that visits India. Little did we know, this is something that happens not once-in-a-lifetime, but more likely once-in-a-week.

(A week later) Last night, KT and I arrived in Bombay from Aurangabad. Normally we would have taken a 25 rupee autorickshaw to the train station then a 7 rupee commuter train south to Victoria Station. It would have been a sweaty, crowded, and dirty journey, but much shorter (1 hour vs. 2.5) than the 400 rupee cab right to Colaba. However, when we arrived at BOM, the monsoon was in full effect and we decided that keeping our bodies and our packs dry was well worth the extra 1.5 hours and 350 rupees ($9). At least with an official (and metered) airport taxi, we knew what'd we'd be getting, or did we... About 5km into our 20km total journey from the airport, our rickety black and yellow Ambassador cab stalled, again in the middle of the highway at night, but this time in the middle of monsoon rains. Once again, cars were whizzing by us, but this time so were sheets of pelting horizontal rain. After about ten minutes of failed starts, tweaks to the vehicle's choke, and waiting, the car was moving again. Unfortunately, only first gear was working; however, KT and i were elated just to be back on the road and not sitting like soggy ducks in the middle of the highway.

Our driver, who spoke about as much English as we spoke Hindi, was clearly as frustrated with his car as we were with him. After at least and hour of driving in first gear through the rain, starting, stopping, waiting, countless right turns, and several failed attempts at taking his cab to a late night mechanic (with us in the back) we found ourselves back on the road, stalled in the rain, 3 hours and about 4 miles from the airport. I set my watch and after ten minutes of silently waiting, donned my rain coat and stepped out in the steamy rain storm rain to flag a cab. I was quickly soaked but found a replacement driver after about 5 minutes.

The young driver from our first failed attempt initially demanded 500 rupees for the 3 hour joy ride that had taken us no where (we could still see advertisements for the airport). In our ongoing, fruitless attempts to encourage better business among the mayhem, KT and I were happy to give him nothing. Eventually, we begrudgingly left him with 200 rupees after our new driver refused to drive away and our old driver refused to stop yelling at me in Hindi about how the meter really said that we owed twice what the guidebook said was the going rate.

Eventually KT and I made it to the hotel and drowned the experience in a delicious European cafe dinner at Basilico's. We're headed to the Bombay airport again tomorrow on our way to Bangkok, however this time I'm pretty happy to say we probably won't be taking a cab.

Make sure to check the flickr gallery.

(Bombay Taxi)

(Indian Autorickshaw)

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Aurangabad gone good

KT and I are in Aurangabad (India) now. We arrived in Mumbai yesterday from Delhi, and instead of taking the overnight AC train as we had hoped, we hopped onto an overnight bus, without AC -- and, as we found out at 2 in the morning, also without a working engine. We arrived in Aurangabad about 3 hours behind schedule, missing the scheduled 8AM tour bus to the Ellora Caves. Fortunately, we lucked upon one of the best auto-rickshaw drivers in the country who took us weaving through the hills and directly to the caves.

(Mumbai Train Station = Nightmare)

The Ellora Caves were incredible and well-deserving of their world heritage site status. I don't have time or fluids (we're in a non-AC internet cafe right now) to do it justice, but please check out the wikipedia article on the Ellora Caves and check out the photos we posted on my flicker gallery. Below is a small sample.

(KT and her elephant)

(Ellora Caves)

Below are two other pictures not from India. The first is from South Africa (thank you Diego; I hope you computer is doing better) and the second is from one of our pool rolling sessions during the kayaking course in Nepal. Shawn, thanks for the photo - I totally covet your awesome waterproof camera case.

(Rolling my kayak in Nepal)

(Table Mountain 'base jumping')

On our way to Mumbai

KT and I are headed to the airport in about 20 minutes to catch a noon spicejet flight to Mumbai. In case you missed it, there was a great blurb in this week's economist (ps: it's only $3 in India) on Delhi's beggars and the city's attempts to reform them in preparation for the 2010 Goodwill Games here. "Ignore Human Tragedy, Fix Urban Nuisance" -- Economist Article on Delhi's beggars.

Four Days in Delhi

KT and I are in Delhi right now. The incredible heat (116F a few days ago) has limited our mobility as well as my thinking processes - hence the tardiness of update. Despite being the well-laid-out once center of the British empire in India and the modern home to over 15 million (officially); Delhi is not really a tourist destination or even much of a place to relax. A few high-scale foreigners come here as a stopover to Agra and the Taj Mahal while a handful of others come here on business; however, neither are likely to venture outside the southern suburbs. And, like anywhere in India, there's always a steady supply of the long-term dread-lock-clad hippies taking advantage of the cheap cost of living and accessible drugs.

More so than any of the other cities I've visited in India (Hyderabad, Calcutta, Mumbai) Delhi is enormously past it's carrying capacity. Millions of motorbikes swerve in and out of traffic, while rickshaw wallahs steer pedestrians into sidewalk puddles, and crippled, tunic-clad beggars shuffle on all fours through street garbage past cows, goats, and awe-struck tourists. In 2002, the newly inaugurated Delhi subway system had a maximum capacity of 200,000 riders; on its first day 1.2 million showed up they were forced had to shut down the emergency intercom system after riders kept using it to tell train drivers to speed up.

Delhi is modernizing at a breakneck pace; however, these improvements are struggling to keep up with an overflowing rural migrant population arriving at 500,000 each year. KT and I will be here another day before heading to Mumbai, a peaceful port city of only 12 million. Keep an eye on my flickr gallery for some photos of the Taj. Also, I have a Delhi SIM Card and phone number. If you call remember to add 11 1/2 hours to Central Time. The number including country code is 011-01-991-015-2835 (just punch in these numbers from anywhere outside of India).

UPDATE: a mouse just ran across the desk between me and the monitor, and the power in our hotel went out for the third time in an hour. I (heart) India!

Leaving on a Jet Airways Plane

I'm headed to Delhi around 2:30 tomorrow on a Jet Airways flight to meet KT. India will be country 4 (on the total list of 9). KT has been there a few days already enjoying the pool at the Hilton Trident and perfecting her head wobble.

Things have been slow in Kathmandu these last few days as I've been recovering from my second bought of Buddha's revenge and LS and RM have just come down with their first. We all suck it up and tell ourselves its just part of the adventure. I just wish adventure didn't hurt so much.

While RM and LS hung around Thamel yesterday, I took a 100 rupee cab to the Monkey Temple (no misnomer here; there are monkeys EVERYWHERE). Atop the 350+ stairs leading to the temple, I met a fascinating Tibetan couple who was enamored by my digital camera; eventually they asked, very sweetly, for a full display of its abilities. Never shy to evangelize on anything tech, I gave them a full run through of all of the TX-1 could do.

I think this couple was equally fascinated with the camera as they were with the chance to talk with the whitest, most foreign-looking English speaker for miles. As we parted awkwardly in broken English, they said that I had some of the best teeth that they'd ever seen - a compliment I'd never received but a very nice one none-the-less. I still have the photo that Llama (this was his name) took of me with his wife and plan to email it to his gmail address from Delhi. Maybe he will use it to prove to his friends how straight my teeth were.

Make sure to check out the flickr gallery. Also, check out my friend Aaron's blog as he and Garrett drink their way through Easter Europe.

4 Day Kayaking Course Over, back to Kathmandu

(on our way to the river, we rode inside the bus)

RM, LS, and I returned to Kathmandu today after our 4 day kayaking course near the Tibet-Nepal border. We learned to Eskimo roll, T-rescue, and why not to swallow two much Nepalese river water. For $150 USD including transport, room, food, equipment, and one-on-one instruction, the trip was an incredible value and a great experience.

(RM, Raju, Sam, me, and LS)

Our guides/teachers were all Nepalese and each an incredible kayaker. Although LS and I wound up with wicked stomach flues, probably from the gallons of muddy river water we inhaled practicing our rolls, we still got in 3 solid days of instruction. The river work was a blast; however, the most memorable part of the journey was by far the bus ride to and from Kathmandu.

(Kathmandu Valley from the bus on the way back)

Surprisingly well kept, the rural roads in Nepal are full of unaccompanied cows, goats, and buffaloes, as well people bathing, sleeping, and playing. There is also the occasional motorcycle, bus, or hitchhiking kayaker. There's no shortage of tight turns or sheer drops on these roads, which at home would send even the mildest acrophobe shrieking for US highway department largess. Fortunately, we were either too tired or too sick during the trip to think about the inconsistent, widely-spaced 1 ft concrete posts that stood between us and thousands of feet of Nepalese free-fall.

The most popular place to ride on the bus in Nepal is the top (see photo above). This is due either to the heat (inside is like a rattling tin oven) or RM's theory that it provides an easier escape when your bus rolls of the cliff. We chose to ride inside the bus during both trips; however, we did get to ride on top with our kayaks during the frequent shuttles back up the river.

Our plan for tomorrow was canyoning; however since I'm sick and Lauren is even more sick, I don't think its going to happen. Depending on how much food I can stomach (today it was a Sprite, two Cipros, and a mini Mounds bar) RM and I may go mountain biking the day after tomorrow or I may make a pilgrimage to the World Heritage Site recognized Monkey Temple.

Make sure to check out my flickr gallery for more photos of kayaking and views from the bus.

(shrine to wet kayaking gear)

"All I have are these stupid Nepalese coins"

The Farrelly brothers didn't dig too deep when doing their research for the role of Pat Healey, because Nepalese coins are actually very hard to come by. Each is worth about a 1.5 cents and after 5 days of spending rupees we had only acquired about five in change.

Clearly, there's not much to report from Nepal since the last entry. I've had a mild case of the Dali Lama's revenge which has kept me posted up in either the bathroom or the bedroom during the majority of the last 3 days. RM and LS rented mountain bikes yesterday and visited some of the surrounding valley towns. I've spent most of my time reading (1491, Siddhartha, all the Lonely Planets I could find, and assorted travel brochures).

Things are improving on the health front and we're headed out of town tomorrow morning for a four-day kayaking course then back to Kathmandu for either some light trekking on canyoning before I head to India to meet KT on the 15th and RM and LS head to Thailand. I hope to have some beautiful river shots for the next post.

Kathmandu Day 3: My first communist effigy burning

Everyone remembers their first effigy burning in a 3rd world country currently hosting a communist uprising. I know I certainly won't forget mine.

After 2 days of lazily enjoying the sights, smells (and food) of Kathmandu LS, RM and I decided that if we were going trekking, biking, kayaking and all of the other outdoor things we had promised ourselves we would do here, we would need to do more than spend our days wandering around looking for the next meal (or drink). So yesterday we decided to go for a short run through the city of Kathmandu.

Jogging in Kathmandu is a lot like trying to do point to point wind sprints in Times Square. Few streets in Kathmandu have what we would consider sidewalks in the US which means that pedestrian traffic (there is a lot) has to compete with the cars, rickshaws, bicycles, and motorcycles which are all darting around each other, honking furiously and hoping that the person they're about to run over is more willing to turn away than they are.

The traffic situation made for an interesting, but not impossible, run; however things got even better right after we left Thamul and passed a soccer park about a half mile away. Among the crowd of a few thousand, the first things we noticed were Chinese flags and the handful of life-size rag-clothed scarecrow figures, which looked surprisingly like the crude effigies you seen on CNN every couple of weeks.

Against our better judgement, we crossed the street and approached a policeman (there were several and it was still a generally peaceful celebration). RM asked him what was happening and he responded that they were protesting the prime minister. He responded, in classic RM fashion, that he couldn't believe it wasn't our president. The policeman, who is the first Nepalese to ever get Rhett's dry humor, actually laughed, and we continued with our run.

We continued on our run, passing the protest once more before returning to the hotel. Nothing much had developed; however, a few personnel carriers and about 50 uniformed military men had shown up since our last visit. We didn't hear anything about the protest at the hotel today so I assume it was peaceful. However I did find this article online this morning: YCL (Young Communist Cadres) burn PM's Effigies.

Here is the US State Department Travel Advisory for Nepal (updated June 6):

"Violent clashes between Maoists and indigenous groups have taken place in recent months in the Terai region, along the southern border with India, in one case resulting in 27 deaths. Ethnic tensions in the Terai region have spawned violent clashes with police, strikes, demonstrations and closures of the border with India. The U.S. Embassy strongly recommends against non-essential travel to this region. Clashes between Maoists and groups who oppose them also recently have extended into Kathmandu."

Please keep in mind that things are actually no where as bad as they sound in this advisory. There is no shortage of white-haired trekkers or dread-lock and hemp wearing hippies wandering around the streets here. In fact as we were running yesterday, we passed the five-foot, middle-aged mother of a Dartmouth '05 (her Sophomore Summer Parent's Weekend T-shirt gave her away) running in the same area as us - alone.

Make sure to check out my flickr gallery (the photo above is not of the actual protest) for more shots from Nepal.

Day 1: Kathmandu, Nepal

RM and I met up with LS yesterday in the Bangkok airport and boarded our four hour flight for Kathmandu. RM and I had been awake for about 25 hours since leaving Jo-burg, while LS was pushing 40 after staying up the entire night before she left Baton Rouge. Fortunately, the flight to Bangkok was relatively empty and we each got our own three seat row in the back; shortly after landing we each stretched out and passed out.

Kathmandu reminds me a lot of Calcutta in India: motorcycles dart between overcrowded rickshaws and rusted-out cabs, 15 sq. foot shops line the crumbling sidewalk, and life - eating, sleeping, working - all seems to happen on the street. Kathmandu is much cleaner than Kolkata and because the primary business here is tourism, as many shops here seem to be devoted to foreigners as the natives. Prices are generally low but beer is as expensive as many places in the first world. For all meals but breakfast, our bar tab is consistently larger than (multiple courses of) food.

(Kathmandu Guest House: $10/night/person)

We were all three up at 4am this morning - Lauren was coping with 11 hours of jet lag while RM and I had just 4. We opted for a walking tour after breakfast to get familiar with the city and give ourselves time to relax and recover from the trip. Like most places in the sub-continent, Kathmandu is extremely busy and the area where we're staying (Thamul) is the center of it all. 90% of the shops here are one of five things: a mountaineering store (full of very convincing North Face and Mountain Hardware rip-offs), a boot-leg CD shop, an internet cafe, a curio shop, or a street dentist.


The weather was beautiful on our first full day; however, we kept our focus on the city and didn't get to see the mountains surrounding the valley until we had dinner on the 8th floor patio of the Helena Restaurant. Weather permitting, after yoga in the morning we'd like to rent mountain bikes to see more of the city and hopefully some of the surrounding city. Kathmandu is only a city of 700,000; however with 9 stories being the tallest building we've seen yet, its most likely pretty spread out.

(young Buddhist monks on our walking tour)

Make sure to check out the new Nepal photo gallery on flickr and please feel free to leave comments.

(advert for free oxygen on the hotel bulletin board)

What's the Capital of Thailand?

BANGKOK! It's 7:11am local time and RM and I just arrived at the airport after an 11 hour flight from Johannesburg. One of the most incredible parts about the flight, other than being able to watch 4 movies without standing up once, was being halfway over the Indian Ocean on a night so clear and devoid of light polution that you could see both a full sky of stars and the dim orange sparkle of a handful of container ships 30,000ft below.

Lauren is apparently in the aiport right now but we have yet to locate her. Bobby will be arriving in about 7 hours from NYC but unfortunately we'll be on the way to Kathmandu by then.