The clouds, like ghostly apparitions, glide across the mountain tops, getting stuck in the rocky crevasses and at mid-mountain, the tops of black spruce groves. White gashes of the snow fields and silent glaciers, creep across the mountain passes, carving deep scars into the ancient Arctic tundra. The tree stands dot the sides of the hill in a spattering of greens, yellows and reds, as the fall closes in. A hint of chill hangs heavy in the air tonight. It’s gonna be a cold one, clear skies and a light breeze from the NW. The lake stands still as glass, reflecting the grandeur of the surrounding alders, willow and poplars. All is silent and eerily still.
It’s been a week of travel from the Antigun Pass of the Dalton Highway above the Arctic Circle. We took a side trip to Chena Hotsprings for my birthday, before heading south down the Parks Highway. Denali, or more correctly, Mount McKinley, was playing peek-a-boo with those of us that hunkered down for the night in the makeshift view point parking lot campground for a night of boon-docking. The sun is starting to actually go down now at a more reasonable hour. The long days of the mid-nite sun, have gone for the summer, and the march towards the winter darkness has begun.
The weather has been, well typical Alaskan. In any given week, at least two days will have sun, two will be cloudy and three will be wet. The wet days are usually drizzly and overcast, which both ignites the colors and makes for flat lighting, muting the contrasts. Good trade. Sometimes these are prime wildlife spotting days, since a lot of the visiting humans hunker down and stay dry. Bears, both black and brown, love to forage for the blueberries and raspberries that are covering the hills and road sides. Moose are a rare sighting in any weather, so the fact that we saw one was almost a miracle. The fish don’t much care if it’s raining, bright in sunshine and clouds, we caught our fair share of the Arctic Grayling. Porcupines waddle across vast empty ribbons of highway minding their own business. Ground squirrels and prairie dogs scamper about the puddles and dig in the soft black soil. It’s a struggle for survival that we have had the good fortune to observe while here.
The salmon run has begun in most of the streams and rivers. These mighty titans of the fish world, fight with every ounce of life they have left to make sure the population survives. Their bleached bodies, still sporting the deep red color of the end of life, struggling upstream in shallow creeks and streams or their corpses lie rotting on the sides of these rivers and streams, providing nutrients and sustenance for opportunistic predators and scavengers like the raven and gulls. Even the majestic eagle makes a showing at this feast. In the way of the salmon’s final goal…stands humans and the grizzly bear. Both worthy foes.
We’ve seen the landscape change. Not just the beginning of autumn’s colorful show, but the craggy mountains, smooth rolling hills, flat Arctic tundra and massive lakes and rivers, glaciers and gigantic snow fields. We’ve floated down a river, through an iceberg choked lake and seen temperate maritime weather. We’ve flown over 12,000 feet in a seaplane through the snow laden Fairweather Mountain peaks. We’ve seen thick subarctic boreal forest and sparse arctic tundras, vast inlets, bays and fiords. The wildness is everywhere.
We’ve reached the end of our journey…Alsek lake. As we awoke yesterday morning, we busily broke camp, had breakfast and shoved off around 10:30am. We were glad to be out of “Purple Haze” camp due to the swarms of veracious mosquitoes that drove everybody mad. Dinner was a disaster! Dessert sat un-eaten as we all took refuge in our tents.
The sun broke out, in all its glory, the next morning and we all changed out of our layers and put on shorts and tank tops, for about 2 hours we soaked up the sun and stared at the ice capped mountains surrounding camp once again. 360 degrees of the most serene beauty one could imagine. Just when you think it can’t get any more stunning, the bar gets raised.
In the beginning of our trip, we encountered small burgie-bits. We had finally found glaciers! It was called Walker Glacier but you can no longer walk to or on it since it has receded and left a huge lake of little icebergs and a lot of tangled trees and muck, sticky, gooey muck. But today we’ve hit the mother load…Alsek Lake!
We spent all day watching the icebergs roll and calve. We even got to row the rafts around the icebergs floating in the bay. These things were massive and apparently can roll without notice. The tops that were exposed most of the time was the bluest blue you can imagine. As the sun shined through they would glow like a blue sapphire. The ones that rolled usually expose a rocky grey muddy bottom that has been dragged through the bottom of the lake.
A glacier is an amazing thing. It can be blue or grey or white. Usually are thick and fill a deep crevice at the top of the mountains. Some come all the way down to the lakes and rivers; others have receded high into the mountain valley and formed formidable cliffs of ice.
The lake was in constant motion and we watched the icebergs as they journeyed their way, crashing into one another, creating deep thunderous scrapping sounds. It was quite eerie. Had the lake in front of our camp not been clogged with heavy berges, the waves set off by the turning and crashing into each other could have swamped the camp. Huge piles of logs marked the high water line, and we were told to set our tents up above the debris line.
Our last morning, we woke up to a thick layer of fog for our 4am wake up. We hurried to get out of camp and to Dry Bay for our flight extraction from there to Yukatat. We floated for about 2 hours in the fog with visibility under 50’. Arriving we disassemble the three rafts and broke down all the gear. A family with ATVs and trailers came to picked up the colorful piles of dry bags and coolers, paddles and oar frames.
We all hurried about up and down the rocky beach, carrying whatever we could carry. Then hopped on the trailer and were taken to the airport, a gravel runway between a clearing of alders.
Arriving at the bush airport, we were told that the pilot that was coming to get us and his wife went out with a friend in his plane and had gone missing. Our pilot was not going to be able to pick us up nor was anyone else in the small village of Dry Bay. All pilots were running search and rescue.
So here we sit at the bush pilot airport. We will probably miss our flight to Juneau tonight.
We woke up this morning to rain…not just a few pesky sprinkles like yesterday…but a steady down-pour. From the looks of it, it’s been raining all night. Forecast: 90% chance of rain all day. I say let it get it all wrung out of its system now before we hit the river.
We went to a local restaurant last night, the only one open in all of Haines. We sat up to the bar, since no tables were available. The waitress/bartender was running around waiting tables and tending bar. For almost 3 hours we watched her skillfully doing her job, not missing a beat. It took near 30 minutes or more to take our order and another hour plus for the food to come out. Back to small town speed.
A couple came in and settled in next to me. First, Henry, a First Nation member, then his girl friend, Carol, a white, small statured woman. They had so much advice for us, from what was good to eat, see, hikes, and so forth. They knew of the trip we were going on and told us it was a great trip. Apparently the company gives away a free trip to locals once a year. They also mentioned that the town hadn’t had any good rainfall in some time…wish granted…it’s raining.
Our journey to Haines took us on a ferry on the inside passage from Skagway to Haines. It took the best part of 3-4 hours for the loading, sailing and unloading in Haines. The trip was amazing. The views were more of the same…mountains climbing up out of the sea and scraping the sky. Some were draped in clouds spilling over the tops like a huge pillowy blanket. Most had veins of white snow outlined in groves of hemlock, birch and spruce.
As we approached Haines, a gigantic blue and white glacier appeared in a huge valley atop a mountain. The glacier looked miles thick from sea level and took on the typical pale blue of the glaciers. At the toe formed 2 huge waterfalls cascading down the mountain face and bursting into thin air as it plummeted over the edge. To the left was a river glacier. It curved around from a canyon inside the mountain and spilled into the bay. Just an amazing sight to behold.
We took a hike out to a point where we could see the bay and for miles up and down the fiords. We hiked through the most beautiful coastal rainforest. Thick hemlocks, spruce and birch trees stood along with thick thickets of devils club towering above our heads. We carried a machete, bear spray and bear bells to ward off any predators we might encounter. Maybe a bit of over kill but we also played the Carlos Naki native flute station down loaded on my phone, to warn anything we are coming. A little bear prevention goes a long way. The hike was beautiful and the final destination just took our breaths away.
We’ve got under 500 miles to go before our turnoff to Skagway. Today’s been a long slog across rolling hills and thickly forested landscape. The rain came down heavy almost from the time we hit the road. The burn scars became more and more prevalent as we came up to Fort Nelson, which is where you finally turn WNW towards Alaska.
It is incredible how straight roads can be. The roads are just tar strips atop a berm built up to aide in run off. These ribbons of black go for miles on end, or perhaps more fitting, kilometers on end, cut through a huge swath of trees. This is by design I’m guessing, to avoid vehicle big game accidents. I’ve heard a story of a guy who watched an elk and calf bolt out of the thick forest and straight across the road in front of him. He didn’t see the bear chasing them until he slammed in his brakes to avoid a deadly collision with it.
There are mystery roads all over. Dirt roads that just veer off into the thick vegetation. No signage and no squiggly line on the gps. Sometimes you can see a river or a lake as you blast by, but other times they just go into the darkness.
Provençal parks in Canada, are like our state parks in the USA. They are dotted all over the map with no real rhyme or reason. Tonight we are at about 4200 feet/1280m. We just got back into the northern Rockies. The horizon changed radically from rolling hills to steep passes and snow capped jagged mountains. We picked a place called Stone Mountain Provençal Park and Summit Lake Campground. Had the weather cooperated, we could’ve blown up our pack rafts and paddled around for hours exploring the coves and shoreline. Perhaps in the morning, the sun will grace us with its shining face and we can start the day off with a paddle.
We took a break from travel today. 2 nights in the same place…yay! We managed to push through Idaho and Montana to burn the miles we had to in order to get caught up on our travel itinerary to Skagway, Alaska.
Canada has been just as beautiful as I remembered. Towering mountain ranges, frozen solid in ice and snow older than I can imagine. Huge glaciers clung to the rocky cliffs and high mountain valleys and passes. Rivers of aqua green and olive, lakes of turquoise, icy waters as clear as glass. Shear cliffs of curved and bent rock from the beginning of the earth. Further north west, turning into an undulating green valleys slowly rolling to a high peak and back down the other side. Scars of forest fires that scorch the land and leave the once majestic towering pines like burnt matchsticks.
Willow is performing brilliantly. We’ve had quite a bit of rain since we crossed into Canada. Last night we sprung a leak from our fan, I’m guessing from driving sheets of rain. It stopped as the rain tapered off. We’re settling back into van life after a pretty rocky start. But this I can tell you…our bed is super comfy, a bit of a pain in the ass to make each day but so cozy. Weather permitting, we will do more home cooking in the van. We’ve just been a bit hurried to this point.
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.
IrelandST Miguel, AzoresNorthern CyprusMadeira, 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.
MontenegroJohn O’Groats, ScotlandEdinburgh
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.
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?
Can I start out by saying that my heart feels full when in the vast deserts of Utah. The grandeur is awe inspiring, the silence, deafening. The sun is warm on you skin in the cloud free azure blue skies that go on forever. The deep canyons, carved by wind, rain and the elements are like a sculpture’s best art. The spiral towers of molten type rock appear to ooze down the cliff faces, getting more narrow till one side meets the other in the depths of its rocky tomb. The great cottonwood and juniper, pinion pine and sage, seek shelter in the shadowy depths. If you sit patiently, you can see the prairie dogs, marmots, squirrels and chipmunks run along the layer of the cliff face. A crow breaks the silence with its caw and the swish of its wings as it shoots past us on the currents. A cool breeze slides along my cheek and gives me a shiver.
It’s our first outing with the new van. It’s a 2023 Winnebago Revel 4×4 on a Mercedes Sprinter chassis capable of traversing any terrain we can find, handling the washboard roads like a luxury vehicle but with the weight of a built out adventure van. The inside is cozy, fitted with all the amenities to keep us comfortable for our travel adventures to come.
Part of getting the new van was learning from our old van, SleepyTurtle. She was a fine build and was perfect for what we needed and especially traveling with Gandaulf, our old corgi. There were a few things missing, as we found out after 2.5 years living full time in her. She was built to withstand the worst rutted roads we found in Montana and Wyoming. She rarely had a rattle. She was built as a fair weather camping rig, without heat or AC, she had an inside composting toilet and an outside shower. There was plenty of counter space, we carried 50 gallons of water and had a ginormous fridge and high output stove, for outside cooking only. She was a great van! Now she and Gandaulf are gone.
Our new van, doesn’t have a name yet, but as we investigate her and outfit her to be home for perhaps the next year, one will come. Maybe some sort of warrior princess or a great explorer name, perhaps a docile creature of the desert or mountains. It will come.
We just finished our first house/pet sit in SLC and have taken a retreat to our favorite place, The Swell in central Utah’s San Rafael Desert. It’s a relatively short drive from SLC and sits at about 6,000 feet in elevation. The Good Water Rim Mountain bike single track trail sits adjacent to our camp. It’s a 6.8 mile trail that skirts the canyon rim and is quite technical although, and an easy ride to get the heart pumping.
Around our primitive camp, the sandy ground is a mauve color with stark greenish black, twisted bark, pinion pine and juniper trees standing against the brilliant blue sky. The layered sandstone revealed by the erosion of the sand, stand like castle walls at the top of an impenetrable hill. There is no sounds outside of the wind, birds and occasional passing vehicle.
It’s an oasis in the mad haste of life in the city. It’s a welcome respite from the last year of traveling in Europe and Asia. It calms the mind, lowers the blood pressure and can suck you away in a hypnotic trance if you sit and don’t think. A perfect spot for a meditation or just to day dream. Not a care in the world or a need to rush. Just silence, beauty and peace.
There’s so much running around in my brain. First, I’d like to say that 4 months in SE Asia has been a good amount of time. Countries visited include, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam. There are so many more countries and places to explore, but as with Europe, it will have to wait.
Each country has had its charm, sorted history, beauty, beaches, lakes, and natural formations such as the Karsk Mountains. We’ve visited memorials depicting the horrors of wars, incredible temples and places of deep cultural significance, bumpy roads, tiny streets, crazy traffic, billions of motorbikes, stairs and stairs, and more stairs. The one thing that reigns true in every country, be it a wide open space country, huge city with skyscrapers, or farmlands, are the kindness of the people. I know this has been said over and over again, but believe me, it cannot be said enough. In all of our years of traveling and doing humanitarian work, it is the people with the least, that are willing to give the most.
I can honestly say that Chris and I try our best to be informed about the culture and beliefs of the people in whatever country we visit. It goes a long way believe me. Whether it be a few phrases in the local language, a simple bow, a conversation about the religion or mythology of the people, you can see their eyes brighten and a smile comes across their face that says more than words could ever convey. To be courteous and ask permission to take a photo shows a great deal of respect at times.
One thing we struggle a bit with is tipping. On our tours with GAdventures, we learned how tipping can be a good and bad thing. Being “westerners”, privileged as some would call us, it is important to understand the concept of tipping. For example, in Cambodia and Vietnam, the average monthly salary is equal to about $400 USD. The people live comfortably and are happy. Introduce tourism; they may be employed at a hotel, restaurant or attraction catering to tourists from all over the world. IF these tourists tip, which is about 30% do vs 70% that don’t, the appropriate tip may seem ridiculously small to us, but to them, it could mean more than we can imagine. Sometimes it amounts to nothing but the fact that you have recognized them and appreciate their service. That you see them! The point being, tip appropriately…not like you would at home. It can disrupt their lives in ways we can’t understand.
Next thing we make a point to do is ask the locals about themselves and their family. We engage with the tour guides, drivers and hotel staff. They aren’t robots, not yet anyway. They live to have the jobs they do. They feel very lucky to have them and will always serve you with that genuine smile I am always talking about. Even when you can see them visibly melting in the heat and humidity, just as you are, they persevere, continuing to do the best they can to serve you. For example; we watched a woman in Thailand that was probably 7-8 months pregnant. She was there for lunch at 11am and was still there when we went back for dinner at 8pm and was still there when we left at 9:30. The restaurant was still open for another 1.5 hours. She was seating customers and clearing tables. She never stopped. There was no AC, just an open air restaurant. Another woman, a bit overweight by Thai standards, was also there that same time. It was an exceptionally hot day and the night was stifling with not a hint of breeze. She stood at her station with sweat running down her face, using a menu to cool herself. She greeted us with a smile and welcomed us back by name. It’s often hard to put aside the privileged part of us that can’t believe the working conditions.
All this writing made me hot, so I just used my pool. Now the pool attendant is helping us to get more shade on our cushy sun bed. 🥵🤣 Like i was saying…
We are currently in Uluwatu, Bali, our last stop in Bali. It’s 84 degrees or 31 celsius and 80% humidity. I’m watching 4 guys on a glass roof over the eating area at the restaurant, removing what amounts to a completely shattered piece of 3/4” tempered glass…with no gloves! No safety gear, just grit and perseverance. Wow! 🥵😳 I need to go use the pool again just from watching them…
We hope that you’ve enjoyed our journey. Feel free to reach out to us for recommendations or with any questions about where we’ve been. Thanks for following our travels! The Girls
We’ve moved from the jungle of Ubud back to the beach of Sanur…the humidity is back at a manageable level with the sea breezes, and the temp has dropped 2 degrees Celsius which is huge. Moving days are often the hardest days, even with a short drive (1-2 hours) and a late check out. For me, I forget to hydrate like I should, since I am in the AC, so last night I was not much fun to be around at dinner. The headache, excessive sweating, lack of appetite, lethargy and irritability are real. Poor Chris.
Pumpkin Ravioli with roasted almonds in almond oil Grilled fish in a curry aioli sauce
I wanted to talk today, about our time in Ubud, a crazy hub and sprawling city jammed with tourists on foot, motorbikes zigging and zagging in and out of vehicle traffic and congested intersections without traffic circles or stop lights. If we were in America, there would be numerous deaths and accidents, but here, there is an understanding that is learned at an early age. In the states, the person with the ugliest car wins as they throw caution to the wind and barrel through, thinking only of themselves. Here, a small amount of Evil Knevivel stunt driving is involved, nerves of steel, kindness of a sage, concentration of a bird of prey and lots of guts. There is horn honking, which means…I’m coming ahead so don’t turn in front of me, turn signals to inform the head on traffic that you are coming over into their lane and a great deal of patience. One lane becomes two and a half. We would be dead, plain and simple, or frozen with fear, or perhaps never turn and continue straight forever. LOL
Next is the artists and shops that line the roads for sometimes a mile at a time. It’s like candy to the eye. There is no way to stop and visit in most cases, so you just gawk and dream about the intricate wood work and stone carvings, the time, skill and effort it takes to create such beauty. The incredibly colorful paintings that are on display in a little dark shops, you wonder how they make a sale…?
Next would have to be the temple carvings of beasts with human bodies and animal heads or visa-versa. The guardians of sacred spaces, mythological creatures that scare evil spirits or project a story from Hindu culture. Left to a foreigner’s imagination, emanations of bad nightmares.
Each home has a temple. The temples are the front yards, so to speak. They hold spirt or ancestor houses that often times, hold the ashes of the dead. Each day three offerings are made, morning, noon and night. Simple but powerful. Perhaps a little food, flowers and drink accompanied by a burning stick of incense placed on a small handmade plate made from palm leaves. Rice grains are often pressed to the forehead or temple of the family members as a prayer for peace and good health. Women and men, both in colorful saris are seen in open fields, making offerings to the Mother earth, soil, water and sky for a good harvest. Such a simple and uncomplicated way to show respect.
Of course, with such a small compact society comes the refuse. It is an ever present problem, and one that cannot be overlooked. I actually heard a guide blame it on tourists when a client asked him about it…to me, the solution begins with the community and seems such an easy one. In some countries, they have “tidy town awards”. These are incentives given to a community based on their beautification. This includes removal of debris and refuse. I have seen garbage trucks picking up garbage so maybe the infrastructure exists here. With deep rain gutters and a heavy rainy season, the problem just washes into the sea and up onto the beaches.
Lastly, monkeys…Ubud is home to the monkey forest and these cute, clever creatures are everywhere. Not nearly as aggressive as in other countries we’ve visited, such as Cambodia. One group did enter another’s territory while we were in The Monkey Forest, and as one male was escaping the other, it used Chris as a trampoline to bounce away further from the chasing male. It was startling and happened so fast, no one was hurt.
I’m sure I’ve missed something but it will have to wait for the next post. Hope you are enjoying the updates and insights.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 