Anticipation

We drove all the way to Las Vegas yesterday to leave the van with Doug, Chris’ brother, to sell for us as we continue our quest for some place to call home. It’s a bit sad to think this van life chapter is coming to an end…but the excitement of moving on, squelches the sadness. We have 5 hours till the first leg of our flight from Vegas to Los Angeles (LAX) where we will have a short layover before the red eye to San Jose, Costa Rica. 

We both slept well on a super comfy bed last night and are biding our time until we get our ride to the airport. I am also carefully monitoring an active volcano just a few miles from where we will be staying, that has been acting up since the beginning of March. This morning a small eruption spewed an ash cloud into the sky, visible for miles. It doesn’t seem like an immediate threat but we will keep a close eye on it. There’s even an App that the government has for alerts to earthquakes and eruptions. Hmm… I guess even paradise has its vices. 

We will be happy to get back to a resemblance of normal, peaceful, country where everyone is genuinely happy and wants to find out all about you. It’s so easy to be kind, but I’m afraid that the states has everyone on edge and the insanity continues. I feel like I officially don’t have a home country that wants me, or that I consider “home”. Don’t get me wrong…the country itself is beautiful, even some of the people are too. But in this case, a few bad apples have ruined the whole feel. 

We know that there will always be something or someone that will draw us back. We both have parents in the states. Close friends and family that, like us, are aging, and some not so healthy. These same people are always asking us if we feel afraid when in other countries. Honestly, we feel more fear in the states. 

The rest of this day is gonna be a real slog until we check our bags and start the airport shuffle. We land early tomorrow morning, and it is the same time, not in some other time zone. Hope we can get some sleep and the flight is smooth. See you all on the flip side in Costa Rica. 

The Days of Our Lives

Our days start at sunrise in Bahia Conception as the morning light shines in on my open back doors. On this cool dewy morning I wake to smell coffee and the wet air then I stretch to greet the new day. I open my eyes and take in the sunrise. An unusual sight greets me this morning. A huge cloud bank, tightly condensed on the water and up against the mountains that outline the bay. A few obscure paddle craft dot the horizon, enveloped in the thick fog bank, as the sun begins its ascent into the morning sky turning all the dew drops into small diamonds. 

The day was only just beginning with the unusual fog, calm bay and absolutely still air heavy in dew. 

A pod of 50-60 dolphins swim from one side of the bay to the other. The little dolphins enjoy jumping and I hear giggles from the campers gathered on the beach watching the folly.  They shout and point out their location to the paddle craft in the water joining their migration across the open bay. 

Yesterday was also an unusually calm day with no wind until very late in the afternoon. Again the dolphins passed by but, to our surprise, two small whales appeared. Probably a fin or pilot whale but don’t let that spoil the fun.  On a paddle board, they are massive, thrilling, and a bit un-nerving as they swam within 50 feet or so from my paddle board.  My little kid screeched with joy and the older me pulled back the enthusiasm to a safe distance. 

It’s not only the mornings that bring us joy here at Playa La Escondida. The moon disappears from the sky as it makes its nightly voyage. Once the gang goes to sleep, which is usually by 9pm, the beach is warily quiet and dark. Looking into the water, allowing a minute for the eyes to adjust, it happens. Bioluminescents!! It’s like seeing a million fireflies all up and down the beach at the water’s edge. Green diamonds and a slash of blue and pink as you drag your paddle through the water. In the jet black of night, with a canopy of stars reflecting on the still water, it’s an otherworldly sight. In the blackness comes the “poof” of a whales blowhole as it exhales. All the sudden you realize how small you are in the scene of things and at that exact moment, standing in the vastness of the stars, you feel like you are somehow integrated into it all. 

Oaxaca: First Impressions

I don’t always know what it is that will catch my eye, tickle my nose with a new scent or ring out in my ears as I walk through this city. There is a rhythm to life in Oaxaca. 

The air is fresh here, with the exception of the occasional stopped traffic and the fumes from the vehicles. The sky is a deep azure intensified by the altitude of just over 5,000 feet or about 1,500 meters. The city is surrounded by mountains that can only be viewed from a rooftop terrace as found in almost every building. The foliage is a tossup between tropical and desert yet the air feels hot and dry with the sun’s intensity making it feel even hotter. 

The rows and rows of solid walls with a doorway leading into the very heart of the building. The courtyard. Most of the city is Spanish colonial. With often times three generations living in one home, the configuration of these lovely, colorful buildings makes total sense. Each interior is different with only one common theme, the courtyard with rooms off to kitchens, bathrooms, offices, indoor gathering areas, and a rooftop terrace. The special touches added by generational influences, cultural appreciation, artisanal likes and tastes. Colors vary greatly but tend to lean more tropical, bright oranges, blues, yellow and greens. There are often bars on the windows to the outside which after a fashion becomes part of the architecture and less about crime. 

The streets are clean and tidy and mostly made of blocks of rock or cement, each hand laid and leveled. The pride of the people shines through in most all areas, though there is a free “artistic” expression found on most every wall. Someone’s personal stamp on the world, be it graffiti or actual pictorial design. Each says something about the trials, tribulations and triumphs of life here. To say “hey I’m here.” To convey a thought, political statement or just to advertise. 

The Catholic Church is the center of each small neighborhood. There are over 25 churches and 125 parishes in Oaxaca Centro, the main being Templo de Santo Domingo. Every Saturday, weddings are performed at this enormous church. A precision sets up outside the church, consisting of papermache edifices of the bride and groom that twirl and sway while a marching band plays. Women and men in typical Mixtec and Zapotec costume of bright colors with embroidery depicting the cultural symbolism of their heritage. It is quite the fan fare and each wedding is held on the hour and the revelry commences as the newly weds exit the church. 

The food here is amazing. It is freshly made to order, be it a restaurant or street vendor. The smells waft on the breezes through the walled streets, making one’s mouth salivate. The ingredients are not always known to us but we are adventurous and step out of our comfort zone to try new things. Oaxaca is best known for two culinary items…Mole and Mezcal. There are so many variations of Mezcal that can be found in the place of whiskey or regular tequila in many drinks. Each Mole is also crafted by hand in an arduous process and it seems the variety of Moles are endless.

We’ve only begun to scratch the surface and we’ve got another week to experience Oaxaca. A foodie heaven and cultural center, with hundreds of maze like streets to explore. Best done on foot so not to miss anything hidden inside a doorway. 

Just Do It…

How do we do it? On the road for exactly 4 years and 8 months and 2 days…Life is too short to waste a moment. If you need to ask, well I’m so sorry for you. This last week/month has been a tremendous insight into so many things. Who really needs to discuss the elephant in the room?

With so many friends of ours that have moved from the US to live in other countries, it’s good to hear the insight from “boots on the ground”. Of course we’ve made a list of things we’d like to have, and those that are a must, where ever it is we decide to call home base. 

Can anyone ever really live the “perfect life”? 

We asked some and they will say that a “community” is important. We agree. We will say that temperature and climate as a whole impacts our decision greatly. Others claim the silence, cost of living, food, water, power…being off grid. Things, it seems we are conditioned to as “privileged” Americans. I think friends, location to things we like to do, access to water sports, and a small carbon footprint if possible, also are high on the list. Clean air and good health care are not something that can be denied. 

How do we proceed? Good question. Perhaps the real answer is that we will never be comfortable in any one place for too long. Perhaps a few months here and a few there. No real commitment and there in perhaps lies the real issue. Why commit? After all, we are wanderers, travelers. 

There are a few reasons to find a home base…one a place to feel grounded, your own. We have our place in TRNC, ready in Feb of 2027…but until then? Why do we feel a need to find one place? A place we “own”? A need to spend money? Some will say, if you’re comfortable in your own skin, there’s no need to find comfort from outside. Yes and no. It’s not that comfort we are looking for. 

The future is so uncertain. We will most likely agree to rent, long term, and leave when the urge comes. We are not getting any younger and eventually will need a “home”. Somewhere they don’t throw away their old people. A place to travel from. 

A place that targets health and well-being over treating dis-ease. A kind and stable government. 

We are wrapping up a week in Tulum, where we ventured out to see if we could find a place to call home base. Once again, the homes were lovely, one we both were ready to buy. The next day we went out again to look and we stood in the jungle for about half an hour and we both began to feel ill from over heating. We took it as a sign that this is not someplace we could enjoy for long. Oh well…on to Oaxaca for 2 weeks of fun!!

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. 

Crossing borders

It’s been 12 days since we left Salt Lake City. Twelve days of constant driving, sleeping, hiking and driving some more. Yesterday, we crossed from Canada into Alaska. The grandeur of the views before us just kept getting more and more grand as we pushed through the rolling hills, and back to the Great Northern Rocky Mountains.

White Pass was a long mountainous pass with switchbacks and craggy glacier choked peaks jutting up from the valleys…with rivers flowing out of these behemoths in cascading waterfalls. Scattered snow melt lakes dotted the landscape, each with its own color of blue, green or milky white. The subalpine trees sprung up from rocky out crops and random high spots, stunted by the harsh winter months and many feet of snow. Small creatures darted from tree to tree, outcropping to outcropping. Birds flitted from tree to tree, with some doing crazy mid-air acrobatics, chasing insects we can’t see.

We exited the ALCAN Highway in Tagish, connecting with the Klondike Highway for our last push into Skagway, Alaska. The history along this stretch of road dates way back to the late 1800s when the gold rush took over this part of Canada and Alaska. The Tlingit people trapped this harsh land for survival. The Russians came to harvest what they could from the gold rich mountain streams and lakes and to buy pelts from the Tlingit people.

In 1942, the Alaska Highway was being completed which brought more and more people into the small villages and allowed for stores, saloons and hotels to spring up creating a booming mercantile market that allowed for easy sale of pelts and goods needed for gold mining. All this collapsed as the gold dried up. The roads to the villages still remained so the Tlingit continued to occupy the infrastructure that remained and created a lucrative trading business of beaver, lynx, bobcat and other large game animal hides. They supplied gas to westward travelers in their fancy new cars, a place to sleep and eat. Some of these towns, such as Dyea, have streets and street name signs, but the buildings have long since returned to the earth. Only trees, pictures on posts, and a boreal forest stand where the buildings once did. It is left to the imagination once again.

We chose to stay in the historic district/town of Dyea last night and tonight. Our camp sits on a tidal river. We learned that there are 22 different species of mosquito in Alaska, and I think we encountered half of them. A strong breeze did keep the rest of them away. We were entertained by a couple of bald eagles hunting on the tidal flats. We were not so amused by the little chipmunks that thought it would be fun to get up under the hood and strip some felt insulation off an intake for the fresh air by digging it off fuzzy piece by fuzzy piece. We decided to tape the shit out of it to prevent any more marauding.

Skagway

Today we packed up, went into town, and got showers at the Skagway Rec Center…much needed. You can pay $10 and stand under all the hot water you want! They even provide towels…bonus. Now all clean and wearing clean clothes, we are going to “paint the town” of Skagway.

2023 Travel Year in Review

Our 2023 Tally of Planes Trains and Stays
Where we slept on 2023

116 nights Apartments or B&Bs
89 nights Hotels
46 nights House Sits
36 nights Pet Sits
32 nights Camping in Vans US, Europe
12 nights Cabins or Lodge
8 nights Friends or Family
8 nights Boats
2 nights Planes
2 nights Trains
1 night Hostel
1 night Home Stay in Cambodia

Other Stats

27 Individual flights taken

11 Long Distance Train Travel Days

19 Long Distance Bus Rides

11 Days traveling by Boat

16 Countries Visited in Order
3 Islands

United States
Bahamas
Ireland
Scotland
Portugal
Maderia (Island)
Azores (Island)
Germany
Austria
Spain
Croatia
Montenegro
Bosnia & Herzegovina
Cyprus
Vietnam
Con Dao Islands
Cambodia
Thailand
Koh Ngai (Island)
Koh Lanta (Island)
Laos

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.