The Roads of Baja

There is a strong draw, felt by a number of nomads, to explore the wild spaces rarely visited by “tourists”. One reason is the lack of transportation capable of handling the washed out, wash board dirt roads found in these areas. Another, the urge to stay in the familiar, attached to cell phones, TV and the comforts of the brick and mortar of a home. When we tell some of our journeys, they all gasp and wonder where we ever got the need to wander.

There is a pull to the desert that has enveloped Chris and I. A need for open spaces, a dry climate and room to roam freely, sometimes without seeing another soul for days. The chance meetings often turn into deep conversations and a fire side chat recounting trials and tribulations of life on the road. We share our stories, sometimes harrowing and unbelievable. Perhaps it’s a draw to face death at every turn, or perhaps the thrill of adventure and to push the envelope beyond the comfort level of the normal human. This takes us to today, four and a half years of being free and able to travel at will, one with our surroundings.

In February of 2021, we hooked up with a caravan of three, Chris and I and two other gals, and crossed the border into Baja Mexico, for the first time. There’s a call we lean towards and freely give into, that paves the way for our wander lust. Baja seemed like the great western frontier that we needed to explore and conquer. Armed with only our cell phones and a good translation app, Garmin GPS, and a competent van, we set out to explore a country unknown to us; a 1,000 mile journey full of new flora and fauna, animals and sea life. I found it so inspiring that I wrote a book while traveling through Baja for 3 months. Fast forward to January 2025 and here we are again.

https://www.amazon.com/Childs-Story-Answers-Why/dp/B09PHHCGWX?dplnkId=38cdaa69-0263-42c6-afe6-a62c7c7e4057&nodl=1

It’s been a tough 2 years emotionally. After loosing our corgi Gandaulf, we sold our first van and all the toys we had accumulated during our travels and set out to travel around the world. Seven months traveling around Europe and another four months in SE Asia, Indonesia, and Malaysia, then back to the States where we purchased another van to complete the Canada/Alaska trip we missed out on during our two and a half years living on the road.

Alaska and western Canada is another frontier of sorts. Not like the desert but just as grand and open. The roads in each very similar; pot holed and delaminated. The punishing washboard roads in dire need of repair, are enough to put any van build or truck to the test. there would be whole days of traveling 3-400 miles and never cross another vehicle. We were never sure if the paved sections of the roads were better than the dirt roads, both held their own dangers. The grandeur of the Alaskan and Yukon outbacks are hard to match, even in the deserts of the south western USA. Still, the desire to revisit Baja California, Mexico and the desert was strong.

Today, January 6, 2025, I’m writing you while enjoying coffee and the warm sun of La Paz, Baja California Sur, surrounded by fellow travelers. We’ve traveled 1350km so far, with another 300km to go. The roads to this point have been narrow two lane highways, with little to no safety lane and often no shoulders. There are times when we must come to a complete stop to walk the van through deep potholes and slow to a crawl when passing trucks come barreling around blind corners. There are constant signs of accidents, both with roadside crosses and mangled guardrails, straightened out or completely ripped from the supports and trailing off into deep ravens as if pointing to the site of a wayward vehicle leaving the road and plummeting to its end. Often times, there will be stretches of road that have carcasses of dead cows, horses or the unidentifiable remains of some unfortunate animal, usually struck at night by a speedy semi, as they come to the flat roads to sleep. It’s a constant reminder that it only takes a second of misfortune to end a life.

So our nomadic wandering continues with so much more to see and experience. We may be absent but we are always present where ever we find ourselves. Living in the moment, sometimes with no set direction but forward. Always savoring the newness of each destination and rolling with whatever may come our way.

Down a Winding Desert Road

To say our lives are boring, would be the biggest lie anyone ever told. Today we find ourselves on a pilgrimage down to Baja California. Driving through the barron desert of California’s Mohave. The vast emptiness is overwhelming and all encompassing. Creosote, desert rose, sage, Joshua trees, and various other spiny shrubs, dot the desert floor. Whips of dust circle and rise into the sky in thin tornadic spouts. The desert has a beauty all its own.

As we make our way, small desert communities spring up in the middle of nowhere. Towns like Needles, Searchlight, and Topok breakup the monotony of flatness. We wonder what the inhabitants do for fun? Chase jackrabbits…wander around in altered states of mind. Sit on porches rocking in old wooden rocking chairs. Commune with the vast sky? There’s a certain peace found here in the desert emptiness, vastness that is beyond measure. A kinship with Mother Earth, a pleading of the poor souls living among her scorched soil and dwarfed trees and plants.

For the next few months we will enter this environment willingly, searching…searching for that kinship, immersed in the life of leisure. Healed by the salt air. Lost in days unknown, time lost, only day and night. Wander around with like souls just living life on the peninsula’s terms. It’s time to disassociate from the tension and unknowns of life in the US.

We are looking for somewhere to call home base. Someplace we can travel out from or just hunker down and become part of a community. Who really knows. What I do know is, we have wandering spirits that are hard to quench, hard to convince to stay in one place…wanderlust.

Wings Clipped

As a few of you know, I have been having some digestive disorders for almost a year. A friend of mine reminded me that it’s probably been much longer than that. The difference is the severity. Living as a nomad has been a lot of fun, except when an illness creeps in and knocks us down. 

Not all illness has a physical cause, as I have come to understand all too well. Our world is so full of stresses, some from outside stimuli, others from within our own body and mind.  To understand the role stress has on our mental and physical beings, has become a goal of mine since I have stopped working. It’s been a chance for me to step back and really “feel” my body and mind. It’s not just work or a job that causes “stress dis-ease”. It can be relationships with oneself and others, physical limitations (real or imagined), dis-order and dis-ease inside the mind and body, environmental influences such as smoke, weather, amount of daylight, extremes in temperatures and diet. 

This setback in my health not only affects me but also Chris. There have been days on end that I have not been well enough to do anything. Constant stomach pain, not being able to eat, nausea and a squeezing sensation in my diaphragm that takes my breath away, have all become part of my daily life for at least the last four or five months. I don’t know anyone who can live with this and try to stay chipper and act as if nothing is wrong. I try so hard tho. 

So here we sit in Rapid City, South Dakota. Many may ask…”why South Dakota? October 22, 2019, we sold everything we owned; our house, furniture, toys, tools, artwork, nick-knacks…everything but our van, which was to be our home. But…the Patriot Act states that we had to have a US domicile, in order to maintain banking in the US, including our retirement accounts. Now this is actually kinda fun, except when you need medical care, since you can look at different states and their laws and cost of living. How easy is it to get residency, register a car without being physically present, taxation of income, capital gains, etc. South Dakota checked off all the boxes. 

Now, here we sit, going through the messed up medical system of the USA. Doctors think only inside the boxes that the insurance companies set up for them to work within. That system has high deductibles that are easily consumed by the amount of testing they do to find a physical cause to the symptoms presented. My DR won’t even talk to me until all tests are completed and five other DRs look at and interpret the results, which can take up to 3 weeks we are being told. You can’t speak to anyone that doesn’t have an extended arm and hand in your face telling you to wait. I am not one to sit idly by and wait. There is no empathy, just f#%€d up rules. My point is with all these deductibles, it makes it hard to spend out of pocket $$ to see alternative Drs, like chiropractors, naturopaths, yoga instructors, acupuncture, meditation centers, on-line classes, etc., these practitioners often address the energy or dis-order inside the mind and body pathways, rather than pacifying symptoms. 

So why then, am I still sitting here? Although this is not where I’d like to be, stress caused by not feeling well can exasperate the dis-ease. Also not being able to stop for any length of time to heal, can be a problem when living as a nomad. There are other things besides surgery and invasive chemical medications that can soothe the symptoms and possibly correct the dis-ease or imbalance occurring in my body right now. These blocks and dis-order can be resolved, returning the body to a state of stasis. Stasis equals a dissolution of symptoms at their source. 

My main focus of my exploration is the vagus nerve, which is part of the parasympathetic nervous system. I also have had bouts with Ataxia in the past caused by reaction to an auto-immune inflammation in the body. While the DRs here twiddle their thumbs, I am attacking, perhaps, the root cause of this uncomfortable physical condition I find myself in. Regardless, our wings are clipped and we have hunkered down with a commitment to my health. 

Southward Bound

It’s warm and cozy, sitting in Willow (our van) with the heat on. It rained last night, as usual, and the morning sun is busting out at the seams as the heavy clouds give in to the coming day. 

The rain drops sit poised on the edge of the turning leaves and bushes on the forest floor,  just waiting to bedazzle the world when the sun finds its small existence. The lack of squirrels portends the coming of the fall chill and the stupendous color change beginning. For the last month, these busy little creatures have been scurrying from tree to tree, digging holes and filling them with a winter bounty, if they can find them under a blanket of fresh snow. The geese have been filling the skies in huge, jagged Vs, honking as they begin their southerly migration. Perhaps we should take note of these happenings and head south ourselves. 

We crossed the border from British Columbia Canada, a few days ago. The fall colors slowly fading out and the green leaves have reappeared as if we passed backward through time. The spectacular mountain vistas giving way to the subtle rolling hills covered in orchards and vineyards, then the unending flat fields of golden grains, farm houses and rogue silos, interrupting the golds with a few ancient cottonwoods, tin roofs glinting the suns rays like a diamond amongst the fields of gold. We’ve been sticking to wandering the backroads, trying to eek out whatever new experience we can find as we meander southward. 

It’s always bittersweet when we move from one place to another. This trip, now spanning over 9,500 miles, has seemed like a blur. The vast Canadian wilderness, coupled with the wildness of the Alaskan frontier, has made it easy to immerse oneself in nature, primal and raw. To have an intimate insight into the lives of the First Nations people, the animals and fishes that roam the vastness, the small plants, boreal forests, 14,000’ mountains, glaciers and lakes, Arctic tundra, towering fiords, and so much untamed beauty…has been a blessing that is etched into my mind forever. 

Rapid Changes

Today I woke up to 41 degrees in the van…who knows what it is outside. With everything we need in our little capsule of steel and rubber, there’s no big rush to go outside and find out. 

The sun is making its way into the sky, creeping slowly from behind the snow capped peeks, but has yet to shine on the opposing peeks across the river valley. 

Our camp last night was right beside the Matanuska River, surrounded by Alders, sporting their new yellow fall colors, Drayas, also in showy white tops, and Fireweed that has lost its towers of red flowers and turned to tangled white silky seedpods. The mountains surrounding this valley are topped with snow from the thunder storms 2 nights ago, accenting the harsh, craggy peeks. 

Yesterday, we drove up from Ninilchik to the Russian River Ferry crossing and joined the throngs of fisher people hoping to catch a nice coho salmon, or at least hook into one of the giant red sockeye on the Kenai River. These fish are huge! As your standing in the water, these fish are lined up, heading upstream. Every now and then, one will breech the surface slowly or jump out of the river all together. With your concentration on your line and indicator, this is quite alarming at first, but soon becomes the norm and you settle in to the rhythm of casting. 

It’s time to begin our month long procession east then south, out of Alaska, into Canada, and finally, the lower 48. Time to say good-bye to the wildness of this beautiful land, where it is easy to forget your worries, clear your mind, and refresh your inner most being. To the fresh, crisp, cool air, the bears, moose, squirrels, seagulls ravens and bald eagles, all etched firmly into my mind, a sorrowful good-bye. A fond farewell to the mountains and glaciers, turquoise rivers and milky white glacial streams and waterfalls, thousands of lakes and fiords. To leave behind the thousands of miles of pot-holed, wavy, and frost heaved roads of dirt and tar. 

Although the journey has not ended just yet…we’ve traveled almost 6,000 miles since Salt Lake City. We’ve driven on almost every road in Alaska, been from the Continental divide (Antigun Pass) to Lands End (Homer). We’ve traveled by ferry along the Inside Passage between Juneau, Skagway and Haines. Took a wild ride down the Tatshinini and Alsek Rivers, played with icebergs and bergy-bits. We’ve had our share of bear encounters, some too close for comfort. I’d say it’s been a wild and encompassing ride for sure with still more to come. 

A Myriad of Emotions

We’ve just returned from an amazing Canada/Alaska River trip down the Tatshashini and Alsek Rivers, down into Alsek Lake and take out at Dry Bay. The whole trip took 13 days plus travel time of another 13 days to Haines, Alaska.

Although the river trip was not on our bucket list, traveling around western Canada and Alaska was. The river trip became the catalyst for this new chapter in our adventure.

As we sat in Bali, melting from the oppressive humidity, we realized our travel in the blazing sun, and blazing kindness of its people, needed to come to an end. We had covered much of SE Asia in a 4 month period: countries like Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Korea, Indonesia, and Malaysia. It was an other-worldly experience, and touched both of us deeply…but our bodies were screaming for a break from the heat.

We found ourselves thinking of very cold places, Antarctica, Iceland, Alaska, Patagonia. Big dreams of cooler temps, zero humidity, even some of our old haunts just didn’t excite us. When Chris saw the Facebook post from Bio-Bio River Expeditions, for a trip down the beautiful Tatshashini/Alsek Rivers. Pictures of rafts floating around stunning blue icebergs grabbed both of us by our sweaty hands and led us down the rabbit hole. This was it!

So we set off on planning to see if we could make this happen. We picked up a Sprinter Revel Van, outfitted it for the arduous trip, bought the necessary clothing and secured a seat for us on the trip.

The drama began with seeing the expensive nature of this undertaking. We bought the van because renting a van or RV was exorbitant. Then came my tummy health issue, then the breakdown of the van as we set out. We made it to Skagway, caught the ferry to Haines and settled in a few days before the trip and one more hiccup, Chris broke her tooth and needed an emergency appointment with the only dentist in town. All that was now water under the bridge, no pun intended, as we suited up in supplied dry suits and met our group.

The next morning was glorious, sun shinning, smiles all around. An amazing feeling of joy and a bit of trepidation hit me as we stood on the river bank, red dry tops, blue dry pants and insulated black and brown mud boots, red life jackets cinched up tight. Within an hour or so, we came to our first splashy wave trains, one finding its way into my dry suit, chilling me and reminding me to hold on.

Camp was always beautiful and we scrabbled to find a level, clear area for our tents. After a few days, the tents became a pain in the ass! They were short and squatty, making entering and exiting very difficult without crawling on hands and knees across wet, rocky ground. The sleeping bags were warm and cozy…bonus!

There is just so much running through my mind when I think of the days on the river itself. Once in a while we were asked to paddle, sometimes to help propel the rafts, other times just to stave off the cold chills of the cold rain and biting winds blowing downstream. We all looked like a blue rubber basket of Easter eggs, as we curled up in tight balls to conserve heat. Some days presented with sun and a promise of grand vistas and windless travel. These days would take your breath away as around each river bend, new wonders appeared. It was somewhat difficult to figure out how to layer under the dry suits, but no matter when we left shore, dressed like small children going out to make snowmen, we soon were adding or removing layers…from hot to cold and back to hot if you were lucky, but little in between.

Camp life was usually pleasant, except when the mosquitoes would swarm. The weekend before we arrived at Purple Haze camp, there had been 6” of rain in a 24 hour period, probably why we had wind and rain further upstream. This rain awakened the veracious insects. Black flies and mosquitos topped the ticket. These tiny, or not so tiny in the case of some mosquitoes, will drive you mad! We were lucky that only a few camps seemed to be utterly infested with the biting menaces, and happy they were only one night stays. Everyone adorned head-nets and deet was the preferred perfume of the evenings meal. Dessert was passed on as we all ran for the shelter of our squatty little tents and played the game of smash the rouge mosquito that found its way into the tent, it only takes one of these little bastards to drive you batty.

Alaska has its beauty and also is a harsh environment. It is not for the faint of heart. True Alaskan wilderness is not forgiving and should be entered with caution and care. On the last day, we found out that our pilot had gone missing with 2 others the day before. Due to the search, no plane was coming to get us. These were seasoned veterans of this Alaska wilderness and its small communities that depended on their services. Tragedy and grief is not an emotion I thought I’d experience on this trip.

I can’t tell you if I was ready for the myriad of emotions I went through but in the end…it was an experience of a lifetime and one that will be remembered. Alaska is wild, natural, stunningly beautiful, incredibly demanding and deadly.

Seasons Change: Another year on the road

It’s been 2 months since we left the most peaceful, kind and giving part of the world.

We left Utah on June 1, 2020, as the world fell apart with COVID-19. We took off in our 2015 Ford Transit Van which we had spent the previous year preparing and building out the inside to serve as our home on the road. We chose the van life primarily for Gandaulf, since he was getting a bit too old to travel abroad via airplanes. It also was the safest way we could see the western US, with thousands of people dying everyday from this horrible disease.

It was hard at first to adjust to a small living space, but in actuality it was to be mainly for escaping weather and sleeping. Cooking, showering and all other “living” were done outside. Chris, Gandaulf, and I communing with Mother Nature at the most intimate of levels. Soon we became one with the ebb and flow of the days, enjoying hikes, bike rides, kayaking, campfires, sitting in silence, and living carefree. We spent the year touring Utah, Wyoming, Idaho, Arizona, Southern California, Montana and headed into Baja, Mexico for February through April of 2021.

Now, life on the road is not all fun and games. There’s a lot of lifting, bending, crawling on the ground, maintenance and things we always took for granted such as, finding potable water for our tanks. At times, we’d get a hotel room just to stand under an unlimited amount of hot water. We never planned too far ahead, usually two weeks out was good, but we always had direction. We had the freedom to follow brown signs to some new location we’d never been. There were breakdowns and even a dead mouse somewhere in the van that caused a week and a half of serious woes while in Canada.

Gotta find the mouse

In August of 2021, the border to Canada opened. We spent the previous summer in the Montana back country, hoping the border would open to no avail. This time we were ready and packed up and headed for Canada but this trip ended sooner than planned due to illness in the family. We made it as far as Jasper, AB and turned around to be with family during this time. In January of 2022, while preparing for another winter in Baja, Mexico, we lost both our little sister and Dad within a day of each other. We hung out in Salt Lake to help with the arrangements and to make sure that everyone was back on their feet. In March, 2022, we headed back out towards New Mexico and Arizona, then up to Idaho for the fall. October 2022 through January 2023, we headed down the west coast Highway 1, slowly making our way towards Baja, Mexico to spend another glorious winter.

January 30, 2023, as we were preparing to cross into Baja, Mexico, the call came that stopped us in our tracks. Forced to return to Salt Lake City, Utah, we packed up the van, mid-winter, and headed 700 miles north into the grips of the cold. We spent time at our girlfriend’s AirBnB until we found a new owner for the one ball and chain left in our life, our commercial property. After 3 months of winter, we watched the Spring bloom and the snow melt away. On March 21, 2023, the first day of Spring, we lost our 13 year old corgi, Gandaulf to dementia and pain. It was more than either of us could bear. On one hand we were free now to travel outside of the US, but what fun would it be without our little sidekick? What’s true is that life was still moving on with or without us, so we sold the van, the side by side ATV and trailer, gave away Gandaulf’s toys and food, and bought a one way ticket to Europe May 11, 2023.

Austria

Our travels the next 7 months took us to Ireland, Scotland, Portugal including 2 Azore islands, Germany, Austria, Spain, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia, and Cyprus. We flew back to Salt Lake City for two weeks to resupply and move our clothes over to backpacks which was much more suited for the SE Asia countries and islands we planned to visit next.

Ireland
ST Miguel, Azores
Northern Cyprus
Madeira, Portugal

Europe was an amazing eye opener. First off, everything, it seemed, was uphill. Streets were built to provide one car safe passage and turn outs for passing. There was an exorbitant amount of indiscriminate cigarette smoking…EVERYWHERE! The European people seemed cold and in their own worlds. The inn keepers were friendly enough, but it was their job, not always genuine. The ancient cities and architecture were incredibly beautiful. The history fascinated us. The US is so young in comparison. Kings, queens, armies, witches, sorcerers, jesters, common people and their animals, all strolled around the walled cities commonly found in most countries we visited. In my mind’s eye, I could picture the period costumes on the droves of people mingling in squares, sipping tea and coffee in sidewalk cafes. There is still so much to see and I am sure we will return soon to cover a few more countries there.

Montenegro
John O’Groats, Scotland
Edinburgh

On November 18, 2023, we left for an undetermined amount of time in SE Asia. We had a tour for 45 days that was to cover Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Again, as in Europe, we were taken back by the history and ancient cities and buildings. The culture was mind blowing! Everywhere you looked, were statues of the Buddha, Vishnu, dragons, snakes, and other spiritual and mythical creatures bearing strong androgynous characteristics. Some half animal half human. The people were genuinely kind in nature, respectful and giving. Their lives were simple and they seemed content. They took care of family, strays, and less fortunate souls. Their religion was not just saved for the weekend, but visible in every aspect of daily life. Kindness abounded.

After our tour, we chose to spend two more months in Thailand, island hopping. We hit Koh Lanta, Koh Phi Phi, Koh Ngai, Koh Kradan, Koh Talabeng, Koh Muk, and Koh Lipe. Each island had its own unique charm with one common denominator…the native islanders. All in all our time in Thailand will always be remembered.

Our next stop took us to Singapore and this small countries’ towering highrises, well thought out freeways and the intelligent use of green spaces. It’s a modern metropolis at the tip end of a peninsula. It was a beautiful but very busy country that seems, from flying in, to be just a piece of land with millions of towering buildings. It has every modern technology incorporated into the infrastructure. It was quite a cool place to spend a few days. We also spent a few days in Langkawi, a small island in Indonesia, then took the leap into Malaysia and Bali, Indonesia.

Bali ended our SE Asia tour. We spent a month touring with our personal driver, Dek Udi. We had a really hard time with the humidity and heat so it was imperative to be around water. We met some of the most interesting and kind people who genuinely took an interest in us and our journey. Soon it was time to leave this incredible island and make our way back to the states for our next big adventure.

Back on home turf…let a new journey begin

It’s been a month since we flew from Singapore back to Salt Lake City, UT, our home state, and it seems like we are finally getting a routine back into our lives. We pet/house sit for a week or so, then spend time in the van, then another pet/house sit, then back into the van and back into the desert for some silence. I am afraid this is as routine as it will get. It seems that Chris and I both have restless souls that prefer to wander than to settle down. Traveling allows us to meet and get to know new people on a personal level, one where they are engaged and not simply exchanging niceties.

The last two days have been a bit overcast and rainy. This made for a fun few days in the desert. It is this life giving rain that brings the deserts into bloom and, at the same time, turns the roads into a slick slurry of mud and sticky clay. After a night of downpours, we decided it wise to retreat from the back country and find some provisions and refill the water tank. The ride out was a nail biter but the 4X4 helped out. The slick mud and clay sticking to every inch of the van.

In a harsh environment, such as the desert, any rain that makes it to the ground is a godsend. Before the storm set in, the sky was full of brilliant white towering clouds with grey bottoms, being heavy laden with water. Below these beautiful floating vapor wonders, hang wispy sheets of rain that dissipate hundreds of feet from the ground, never a drop reaching the earth, this is called virga.

This strange but beautiful event occurs when the air is too hot and dry for the rain to hit the ground, it also can create dangerous down burst winds. These winds often show themselves as dust devils, columns of dust, sand and dirt that swirl hundreds of feet into the air like an invisible tornado starting from the ground up. It’s an amazing sight to witness and unforgiving if one is caught near one of these devils. They will hit a car and try to push it off the road, fill a tent and sleeping bag full of sand and send trash and debris flying hundreds of feet into the air, as if they were ballerinas preparing for a dervish dance.

Small flash flood in a desert wash

Traveling, as we do, is not for everyone. Some people like the comforts of four walls, TV, and a routine that rarely changes. Traveling is hard, takes a lot of planning and when traveling in a van, some heavy lifting. It can take you way out of your comfort zone or help you find a new one. It is, however for us, rewarding and fulfilling. The people you meet can be precious gemstones, or an obstacle, your choice. We may think we live in the best country in the world, but unless you travel…how would you know?

Skipping Across SE Asia

Well…what can I say? It’s been about 4 days now that whatever had gripped my body, and made me so ill, has passed. It literally reduced me to tears at least once. Perhaps it was the dreaded COVID that slapped me upside my head almost a month ago to the day. Perhaps it was the gut bacterium that affects some poor souls traveling to this part of the world all the way down to Indonesia. The shear will power to eat a meal, even though you know the inevitable cause and effect of this necessary evil of human existence. The constant “thick head” feeling, like you’re gonna pass out in a puddle of sweat, or pop like an over ripe tomato. No matter, until we finally came out the other end of it, it’s just been an unmotivated, uncreative existence. Today the urge finally hit me. The words began to flow in my head to the point of needing to pick up the pen and paper, and share.

It’s hard to remember good things to write about, although I know there were plenty. Why does it have to be big? Perhaps just the joy of watching something as brilliant and humbling, as the sun melting into the ocean each night. Maybe it is the feeling of the warm ocean and fine sand beneath your feet as you walk down the beach admiring the brightly colored beach bars and restaurants. Or it could be one word and a hand gesture symbolizing a lotus flower, used as a greeting, for conveying respect, or just being kind and letting them know they see and hear you… “Kaaaaaa…” or Krub for men. One word that has so much meaning to us now. https://coconuts.co/bangkok/features/thinglish-professional-thais-still-use-ka-krub-speaking-english/

My eyes see the incredible blues and greens of the sea. My ears hear the crashing of the waves, the sounds of the longtail boats, the song of the birds shrill song, morning, noon, and night. The sound of the cicadas wishing the sun good morning and goodnight as it slips below the horizon, grabbing the blanket of night with all its stars. I can smell the sweetness of the salt hanging in the heavy air. My skin burns with the warmth of the equatorial sun and the salt spray turns to tiny diamonds on my skin. You can taste the sweat and salty air on your lips. These are all mesmerizing and just make you feel alive.

We’ve been to 6 islands now in Thailand and Vietnam. Koh Lanta, Koh Naig, Koh Kradon, Koh Muk, Con Dao, and now Koh Phi Phi. We’ve spent nearly 3 months here in SE Asia. When we set out 10 months ago, we had dreamed of spending the winter in SE Asia. We’ve covered but half of the world. I guess one doesn’t realize how big the world is. Some set out to go around the world in a year. I think I am finding that we’ve been a meer skipping stone across the surface of a big pond. This next year we may be skipping across the Americas, perhaps in a van again. Brush up on our Spanish that has taken a third row to learning customs and a few phrases in whatever country we’ve been in. Touch more countries in hopes of finding more places to want to hang our hat someday and use it as the “home base” of our nomadic lifestyle. Delve deeper into the culture and people. Honor them and be respectful. To make more likeminded friends, whom we may only meet on a ferry or bus ride, but immediately have a connection with. The internet and social media indeed has made the world a smaller place and opened our eyes to places we never even knew existed. Our minds are fluid, we can’t stay still for long, but I think we’ve realized that it is nice to have a base from which to venture out from and back to when we feel the need to ground.

Hopes, Dreams and a New Year

And again, it is time to move along to our next destination, Singapore.

The last 10 days have been spent recovering from a 43 day tour of SE Asia, including Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. The things we have seen, heard and experienced, will be indelibly etched into our psyches forever.

The kindness of the locals, the stories told by our many guides, the sights and sounds of countless prisons, war museums and mass grave sites.

The opulence of beautiful temples. The immense grandeur of karst mountains jutting up from azure blue waters. Tiny, brightly painted long boats and giant wooden boats gliding down the Mekong and bobbing in silent, protected coves.

Stunning, powdery white sand beaches, towering skyscrapers in bustling cities, the sensory overload of horns and music blaring from establishments, to the gentle crashing of waves.

All these things paint a picture in our minds eye of life in these countries. We hunger for more as our thirst for travel and new experiences hasn’t waned in the 9 months we’ve been traveling.

What have we learned? Well, how to live in the moment, how to sit in silence, how to take life as it comes with no preconceived notions of what the next destination will bring. We’ve learned to accept that which we cannot change and make the best of it. Mostly, I’d say we’ve learned to slow down. We aren’t just living a dream but also have responsibilities. We have time to pick and choose our battles and how we will approach them. As a teacher of mine always says, we have the luxury of leisure.

It warms my heart to know that sometimes, just the words I write, can transport some of you outside of your haste and allow you 10 or 15 minutes to dream and escape reality. Perhaps they stir a deep longing inside of you to travel outside of your comfort zone.

The life of a traveler is constantly stepping into the unknown and overcoming any trepidation that may arise from traveling to a new destination, one we’ve never been to before. Learning new languages, customs and new currencies. We are traveling to find a place to settle in and become a landing spot, after all, we can’t continue this pace forever and the urge to stop sometimes looms large. But in the mean time, we plan a few weeks to a month and do it again and again. I hope you will continue to follow us and join in our exploration.