A Slow-boat Down the Mekong

It’s been a few weeks, it seems, since I’ve taken time to gather my thoughts…to recap our adventures…so here we go. Forgive me if I pass those by for now to bring you to this current moment.

Today I find myself sitting on a “slow boat”, cruising down the Mekong River in Laos. My company on board is that of 8 other individuals from around the globe and two guides. In Laos, we are required to have a local Laotian to escort us to the wonderful temples and small riverside villages of the local hill tribes. Sang, our guide, is of small stature, as are many of the Laotians. His voice is calm and soothing and full of pride for his country. Moh, pronounced ma, is our tour guide for GAdventures through Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. Moh is full of a good life force and spreads the joy of her job and her country’s treasures with us as we go along.

As we have been exploring Thailand and Laos, I find myself troubled at times. Moh will be telling of the history of war in these countries and I almost feel ashamed, as if I, myself, had done something to hurt these people. To hear of the horrors of war, one people killing and controlling another, and for what…land grab, slavery, political turmoil, religious differences…again, I am saddened deeply, that human beings can be so cruel. Perhaps my kind spirit feels tarnished in some way, perhaps in another life, I was here or suffered as these people. Sorry for the rant.

Take away the people and you’re left with the scenery, the raw nature, the dense jungle, muddy water and blazing hot sun. The smell of jasmine and wild ginger, sweet basil fill the air. The occasional herd of cattle, goats or water buffalo, and we even encountered two elephants playing in the shallows of this mighty river. What a gift that was.

The Mekong is a mighty river with powerful flows and jagged rocks and vast sandy beaches, holding it in place. The Mekong flows from Tibet 4,500 miles to the sea. It is the border of many countries throughout SE Asia, and has been fought over by more than one. The dark brown water bubbles and churns, almost bringing the boat to a standstill. It seems chaotic in its flows. In the monsoon season, it rises almost 40’, laughing at the rocks and sand as it consumes them as if in a great flood. Each dry season, a new riverbank is introduced, as the power of water transforms it. Waterfalls come out of the jungles, carving deep gorges in the sand, cascading over well worn rocks, finding their way back into the mighty Mekong River. In the mornings, the clouds blanket the hillsides as the sun attempts to burn through, one giving way to the other in the natural progression of things.

The limestone and granite display along the banks are often incredibly showy. If you look long enough, you will see a complete myriad colors, from purples, pinks, shades of whites, blacks and yellows. They pose an impenetrable barrier, often times hidden under the water. The local hill tribes use the cracks and crevices to secure bamboo poles strung with fishing nets or lines. Small flat bottom boats transport families and supplies, some using motors and others paddles and bamboo push poles. An occasional farm house, perched high on stilts with a crop of corn, rice or potatoes surrounding it, often planted on the rich sand banks deposited by the river during flood stage. You’re left wondering how they can live in, what seems to us, such harsh conditions. We are so privileged and spoiled.

Riverside gardens
Riverside Hill Tribe Village
Local fisherman

The sun has finally broken through and the cool breezes will soon be welcomed to all on board. The green foliage comes to life, some reflecting the brilliant sunlight and others creating dark shadows. The dark brown muddy water lightens up as it refracts the light as it pierces the surface. The sand glistens along the banks. It’s all so powerful and humbling.

Ho Chi Minh Day #2

It’s the beginning of full day #2 in country. We met our group last night, those that will enjoy the sights and sounds, each in their own interpretation. There’s a Canadian family, a dad and son from Ireland, with heavy accents, a guy from Columbia and a guy from NY, Chris and I and our guide “Channy” from Cambodia. Our tour will encompass all aspects of life here in SE Asia. From farm life to bustling city metropolis, to homestays, boat rides, train rides and lots of foot miles. There will be ups and downs and things that just are. There will be things to learn as we participate in the daily affairs of a jungle village, cook our own meal at a traditional cooking class. The smiles of the people are everywhere. There are always happy hellos and goodbyes.

Backpack and Barefootin’

Some mug shots before we go. I have packed and repacked. It’s approaching 25lbs plus about 4-5lb spread in the front. Mind you, we are not going backpacking, just moving from one mode of transportation to another, hotel to boat to trains, we got it all coming. It’s a tolerable weight in a well balanced women’s EJA Osprey pack. I am guessing maximum walk would be a mile or two but I doubt it’ll be the same in SE Asia than EU.

Comfortable shoes…that’s been the next scramble since we’ve been back in SLC. These are my beach shoes, I have another pair plus my sturdy Merrell hiker sandals. Some TeVA mush flip flops for pool and shower. We have bought more shoes for CW and finally narrowed it down to a Merrell hiker sandal and a ALTRA Women’s Lone Peak 6 Trail Running Shoe. Both excellent light weight but sturdy options. She also has a beach shoe and flip flop.

We now settle down after our flurry of buying and returning sprees. Our itinerary sounds so enticing. So much off the beaten path and such a unique experience to travel in a loosely structured humanitarian based tour. Home stays and cooking classes. Temples and buddhas. History and civilization, life at its core. A painful past that is just that, past, don’t we all got it. Never judge, work hard and always smile! Be thankful for each day. Live it like it’s your last.

So me and my back pack will become close friends. I will grow stronger by the day and maybe shed a few lbs equal to my new load. 🤣🤗😮‍💨. All shots are in arms and we have our 90 days of malaria pills. The travel clinic suggested it. Enjoying the last load of laundry in wash and dry mode. What a lazy society and so lucky. Heading out for Seattle Monday for a quick early flight out the next day. Fly to S Korea and then 5hr flight to Ho Chi Minh. Enjoy the pics and posts coming.

It’s a Wrap…Montenegro

The weather is beginning to cool down quite a bit now. The leaves are beginning to change colors. The tourists are starting to disappear. The days are growing shorter. It’s now fall in Montenegro. Our time here is drawing to a close.

We have really covered a good portion of this beautiful country, from the Adriatic sea to the lakes and rivers in the Dinaric Alps. We spent days walking around the Kotor and Budva Old City Walls, toured around the Bay of Kotor, hiked up and around Sveti Stefan, relaxed on Red Beach in Bar, fished for days on the Tara in Mokjavic, and finally explored the National Park Durmitor in Zabljak. Each of these places has its own secret charm, history, and culture. Each has its own attraction for us.

I find it funny to think that I can’t understand a word of what most people are saying. Most people speak Serbian. None of their words remotely resemble English and the farther north we went the less people spoke any English including grocery stores, or pharmacies.

A couple days ago, we went on a white water rafting trip on the Tara River with 11 women from the Netherlands. They all could speak English but they were more comfortable speaking to each other in Dutch. We could pick up on many things they were saying. They were laughing and telling stories but we couldn’t engage with them. Laughing is universal though, so we laughed along with them.

Our cleaning lady, here at the apartment, comes in everyday and has a whole conversation with us in Serbian, full of expression and totally genuine feelings, but we can’t understand a word. Google translate is our best friend.

In all its beauty though, there are a few things that really upset me. Number one is the inability to get away from cigarette smoke. It’s hard to enjoy a meal when someone is sitting at the table next to you and lights up without a second thought. The apartment we have rented here in Zabljak has a strict no smoking policy that is not being enforced. We have moved to three different apartments before we found one that had not been smoked in. Sad.

Secondly, Montenegro has a trash problem. Some towns are better than others. Zabljak was relatively clean but Mokjavic, for an example, had piles of garbage along the sides of the roads and at every fishing pull out. The rivers were so polluted with garbage it was hard to enjoy fishing them. It’s as if no one really cares. We mentioned it to our guide and he tried to blame tourists. Also sad.

We are in Zabljak now, the city with the highest elevation in Montenegro. It is surrounded by a National Park called Durmitor, one of five in the country. The stunning vistas are to die for. Not only does it have fifteen glorious mountains, there is a plethora of alpine lakes and one of the last endemic forests in Europe with 122 species of trees in all, some exist nowhere else on earth. Some are in excess of 400 years old and reach a height of 150 feet.

The Tara Canyon is the deepest and longest in Europe and second deepest in the world at 1300m deep. The Tara River is currently free flowing with no dams in its 78km path spanning from Mokjavic across to Zabljak, and along the border of Montenegro and Bosnia & Herzegovina. The water is a beautiful turquoise blue and only 7-10 degrees celsius.

For the most part, life is pretty simple here. People are set in their cultural ways. The years of war show on the faces of the elders and a new hope shows in the younger generation. In some areas, it’s hand to mouth, growing their own food and keeping chickens, cows and goats. The houses are pretty simple and lack the lavashes of other European countries. It is set to enter into the EU in 2025 and then the infrastructure will be vastly improved when the tourists flock in to experience the vast amount of outdoor opportunities Montenegro has to offer.

Impressions of Montenegro

I am sitting on Red Beach as I have been doing everyday for this last week. Some days the sea laps calmly at the pebble beach, other days it has full on breakers causing the rocky beach to tumble into the sea as the wave recedes. The rolling sound of rocks in water has been a favorite of mine since moving to Utah 30+ years ago although rolling rocks in water are from rivers in Utah.

I look out over the expanse of calm blue water, shimmering in the sun like diamonds in a jewelers light. Heads bob up and down with a few diehard swimmers covering the shoreline as far as you can see. There’s no sand castles to be built on this beach, better for piling rock cairns or separating the colors for more artistic endeavors. Daredevils climb the limestone rocks several meters from shore and do cannon balls to the delight of their friends. Sunbathers lie half naked on the pebbles or spend a few euros for a sun bed and are waited on by the cute bar tender, John, who slinks across rocky surface like a sure footed lizard, balancing his tray full of drinks. The air is thick with the smell of the salty, ion filled breezes, wafting off the sea. For today, this is my home.

We have spent the last 2 1/2 weeks on the shore. Each town has its colored pebble beaches, a few sandier beaches spread around, but more the exception than the rule. The water is warm and refreshing and clear as glass. Small colored fish swim in the depths and appear to be only a few inches from the surface, but in fact, are 3-4 meters down. The water itself is incredible salty, allowing you to literally sit in the water, head above and hands and feet quietly floating. I’ve been told by locals that this sea has healing minerals and some declare they are now cured of their aches and pains just from swimming. All I know is it has been good for relaxation, afternoon naps and loosening up achy backs from sleeping on poor mattresses. There’s a lulling found in the gentle lapping sound of the waves.

Seashore towns are perched on the rocky shorelines like a perfect game of dominos, each with its share of hundreds of ancient stone stairways going straight up from the nearest switchback cut out for streets.

Tomorrow we pack up our stuff once more to migrate deeper into Montenegro and the “black mountains” as its name translates. There are a total of 5 National Parks in Montenegro and we will hit at least 3 while we are here. The mountains are 1500-2000 meters high and rise abruptly from the seashores. Montenegro is not devoid of seasons. The leaves are beginning to show colors of red, gold and yellow. The mountains are not exempt from a good snow fall come late fall and winter. There are ski resorts and outside activities such as hunting, fishing, and tons of snow sports. The towns fall into a sort of slumber after being drunk with tourists all summer. The sun hangs low in the sky, the pace slows, the heat dissipates, the sea grows cold, and the nights grow long. Wood is collected to heat the homes in the mountains and the sea-shore dwellers, make necessary repairs and ready their homes for the next surge of visitors come Spring.

Living as Hard as we can…Two Travelin’ Chicas

It’s sometimes hard to slow down and take time to organize my thoughts. We have now been on the road for almost 4 months, not including our 2 years of vanlife. We have visited Ireland, Scotland, Portugal mainland from Sintra to the Algarve Coast, Madeira Island, San Miguel Island in the Azores, Germany, Austria and Spain. We are currently on our way to wrap up our Schengen EU Visa in Dubrovnik, Croatia. From there moving down into Montenegro for at least a month, which used to be Yugoslavia until 1991. From there who knows where?

São Miguel , Portugal

It sometimes feels like we’ve been gone for so long, and at times I want it to just stop and go “home”, but where is that? My heart is filled with gladness, my mind filled with curiosity. There is just so much of the world to explore. I must admit, at times, we have to pass up some countries we’d love to explore due to many different reasons, both political and uneasy feelings about traveling there as two women. We are playing it on the side of caution when if we were younger, we might throw that same caution to the wind.

Does that mean that we are older and wiser? Life is more precious? Probably…

In the last 2 years, we have been taught a lesson in the value of living life as if it were your last day on earth. I tear up just thinking of family members lost too soon and those that lived out their lives to the fullest and just came to the end of life’s road, including my grandmother and our faithful corgi, Gandaulf. It is part of our motivation to do all we can while we are healthy and able to.

Another motivating force is the all encompassing world of climate change. Since we’ve been retired and living in the world as nomads, living with and off the land around us, we have seen the changes first hand. Coastal flooding, unbearable heat and harsh winters. Storms off the charts. It seems that every year we are breaking records of all types, rain, heat, hurricanes, snowfall, wild fires, ocean temps rising, and drought, to name a few. Perhaps it is the way the earth is trying to wipe us off like a festering tick sucking the life blood out of her? It is everywhere and my heart is saddened to think it may be too late to reverse. Perhaps it is just the way it is going to be and we all will pay dearly in the end. In the meantime, here we are off on another adventure to see all we can before it is gone. We are doing all we can to reduce our carbon footprint, but we are just a minuscule part.

Galápagos Tortoise

Do you know?

Since the 26th of July, Chris and I have been house and pet sitting in Yator, Granada, Spain. It’s a sleepy little town with only one tiny cafe on the main street. The town is in an area called Camino Montenegro.

We agreed to do a pet/house sit for a German expat who owns a little farm up on the mountain outside of Yator. It’s a tiered farm with several raised gardens of all the normal vegetables, fruit trees, including pomegranate, apple, cherry, lime and figs. There’s a patch of just tomato plants and a vine garden of peas, beans, assorted squash, melons and cucumbers. There is also 30 or more olive trees, heavy with fruit, and two large Spanish Almond trees full of nuts.

Each morning we water all the trees and gardens, by hand, plus the ornamental plants on all three levels. In the cool morning air, hangs the scent of honeysuckle from the numerous honeysuckle vines covering the red dirt. Growing wild throughout the property are the herbs, rosemary and oregano, and the raised gardens have basil, parsley and chives. Basically, we have all the food we could ever need or want from the land. Watering of all these delicacys is done by gravity fed hoses at several stations throughout the property and takes about and hour and a half with both of us watering.

The water we drink comes from a spring located even further up the hill and 3 times a week we must turn on the feed to fill the water tank with fresh spring water. The tank is about 14 feet square by 14 feet deep. With the watering, showers and daily consumption, we take the tank down about 2 feet a day. The water is cold and clear and tastes delicious without the chemical additives in normal tap water.

One thing that has always been hard for us, since we’ve been in the road, has been getting vegetables into our diet. They are bulky and took up a lot of room when we lived in the van, and traveling around Europe for the last 3+ months, we’ve been at the mercy of the restaurants to get our veggies. Mostly we get potatoes or something that resembles squash, always over cooked or fried, and never fresh.

For the last 3 weeks, we have been eating fresh from the gardens, trying out new roasted veggies, beets, carrots and leeks. We’ve been making home-made salsa from the tomatoes we grow and the purchase of peppers and onions from women set up on street corners, selling the excess from their gardens, harvested that same day. Cooking meats with the herbs we grow and making delicious side dishes with the variety of squashes we grow. We’ve been making fresh salads with the lettuce, carrots and cucumbers we grow. It is very rewarding.

It is such a huge thing to know where our food is coming from, how fresh it is, that it is grown without chemicals and picked by our own hands. There’s something to be said for that, which never really crossed my mind until now.

Do you know where your food comes from? There are horrifying documentaries on how our food is grown, the process and effect of GMOs, fertilizers and other chemicals used to produce bigger yields and to keep the pests away. The impact we are having on the land, water and our bodies. I guess it took us slowing down here, putting in the effort and love it takes growing our own truly organic food, and being enlightened by these documentaries, to really understand and come to value this little humble farm.

Our next few months will be spent in Montenegro and perhaps Bosnia, both countries pride themselves on their clean food, clean air and clean water. I hope that we have learned a lesson and will begin to appreciate locally sourced food, grown with love, sweat and clean practices. Perhaps our carbon footprint will get even smaller which for us, is something we are proud of.

Lisbon, Portugal June 2023

We emerged from our guesthouse and onto a very narrow street with many streets running off in all directions. For the directionally challenged, this could be a house of mirrors. The sound of music and people chatter fill the air in quiet whispers carried on the breezes.

The streets are bits and pieces of cobbled stones, smoothed from the ages. Built on a hill, Lisbon is a challenge to get around but there are trolleys running up and down the streets. Side alleyways with hundreds of stairs are shortcuts around the maze. This medieval town boosts narrow streets that two people with outstretched arms, could touch wall to wall. Not built for cars but these juggernauts play dodge with the trolleys all day and night.

The side walks are also small white rock chips with stone curbs. The walker shares these with telephone poles, mailboxes and other people. I’ve seen a few brave souls on bikes ferrying their way through the back alley cafes and complicated streets.

Looking up and down each street intersection, one can see squaller and grand castles and churches. Graffiti liters the walls. Clothes hang outside on wires strung high above the streets to save on the cost of electricity. It doesn’t have the overwhelming stench of diesel fumes as in other European cities we’ve just come from.

Our room is in a guesthouse with different common rooms for sitting and cooking. Our room has an interesting arched room, which is left to the imagination of its use or significance. We have hot water for showers, air conditioning for a comfortable night sleep and a comfy queen bed. It’s simple but affords us all we need to sleep, shower and dress. I think this is gonna be a fun city to explore with its sidewalk cafes and little haunts with music and laughter pouring from the doorways and down long hallways.

All Good Things Must End

Today, we close the circle. Our travels through Ireland will conclude in 24 hours from now. Still, to this day, I’m not over the beauty. The thousands of shades of green. The incredible rich, vibrant colors of all the many flowers blooming as far as the eye can see. The hundreds of castles, churches and abbeys, holding the past inside their rocky, vine covered walls, like ancient time capsules. The bright smiles and chipper hellos from locals and travelers alike. The numerous small towns with their brightly painted buildings and historic pubs. I doubt that the memories will fade anytime soon.

I think the most interesting was hearing stories of the struggles of the proud, hard working Irish. The stories of sorrow and triumph. The strong, proud individuals that tried to make a difference for their countrymen in the time of need. The big men and women with large hands and kind hearts. The thick accents that change slightly as we traveled from county to county.

There were many times that I would be listening to our driver and I could envision the people he was talking about laughing and a dozen small children running around underfoot. The homes and land passed down through generations upon generations. The miles and miles of rock walls, the sheep dotting the green hillsides in white and pastel colors, splashed upon their backs showing ownership. The border collies running after them. Life, so simple and so hard.

Ireland!

We made it! It seemed like a long haul. It’s not been a very good one for me so far. I managed to get the stomach bug going around and allowed myself to get dehydrated bad! I guess with the jet lag and brain fog, I didn’t put two and two together. Fever, the runs and three red eye flights don’t work well together.

The van we picked up has been used hard! Coming out of The Turtle, this will take a bit of getting used to. First off, she’s a right hand drive and a stick shift. We drive on the other side of the road than we are used to so everything just seems a bit backwards.

Last night was our first full night sleep in the van. We went to bed, exhausted and exasperated, at 9:30 and didn’t stir until noon. Check out was at noon but no one came around to kick us out. It took a bit to get our bearings and I was trying desperately to convince myself I was well.

The first thing that became apparent was the WiFi we rented doesn’t work. Now we don’t know about the stove or hot water. The WiFi was to be our guidance for point A to point B. There are round-a-bouts everywhere and it’s hard to know ahead of time where to exit out, plus you have to remember to go in to the left, not right as we are used to. We almost pulled out in front of a delivery truck because we naturally look left. Here we turn right, stay left and look both ways.

We ended the day in a pub called Matt the Miller, a quaint little pub on the corner of the block on the waterfront. They have 3 pages dedicated to whiskeys alone. The burger I ordered was delicious and Chris ordered a pizza. A pint of Kilkenny for me and a Guinness for Chris. Live Irish music and the pubs decor just made for a pleasant end to an otherwise stressful day. Leaving the pub, the Kilkenny Castle was lit up and reflecting on the river. Beautiful. Cheers!