Christmas in SE Asia

Back on a bus headed for Hoi An, Vietnam. It’s Christmas Day. The weather has taken a turn from hot and muggy to a pesky misty rain and much cooler temps. We have hit many cities so far in Vietnam and again we hear, from our local guides, about the horrors of war and the way of the communist rule here in SE Asia. I’m reminded of the famous line from Apocalypse Now…”the horror.” It’s only been since 2000 that westerners have been welcomed back into these countries, and unless you are hearing an account, such as the Tet Offensive, you’d never know how ravaged the people have been. As travelers, we now are bolstering the economy and making a better life for the Vietnamese, Laotians, and Cambodians. They’ve opened up to share their culture, their very kind souls.

As we’ve been traveling about in these countries, I can’t help but feel that slight embarrassment of being from a country that gave up after engaging in such horrorable acts. Our guide said it quite perfectly yesterday, the people choose to live in the present moment. Harboring hate and anger only eats at the lively hood they are enjoying. They are a proud, hard working and very considerate people.

Throughout Vietnam, we’ve seen Buddhist Temples, King’s Tombs, Pagodas, museums and memorials. A culture dating back before anything I can imagine. The streets are lined with markets and food stands, restaurants and hotels that welcome the traveler in. The flurry of motor bikes, cars and buses, vying for a little piece of the road, and even the sidewalks. Two, three, even four people stacked onto a small motor bike. Huge piles of textiles, packaged goods, food and even other motor bikes and animals, all carefully balanced on these small motor bikes. Who needs a van…

Then there’s the thick jungles, farms and cemeteries, stretching as far as the eye can see, when traveling by bus or train from destination to destination. Buddhist Temple and Monasteries stitch together communities, both in the cities and countrysides. The buildings and houses are covered in thick moss and mildew creating a patina only Mother Nature and time can create. The hard working farmers, often are seen plowing muddy fields with water buffalo. Villagers in conical hats, stray, skinny dogs laze around waiting for some kind soul to drop a tasty morsel, perhaps the only food they will get. Ancestor houses at the entrance of every home, carefully decorated in flowers and incense. Huge rivers meander silently, providing transportation and food, through these countries. Mystical and beautiful in its own way.

The rain pitter patters on the window, breaking my stare and bringing me back to the bus, as I watch the bumpy black ribbon of tar take us away from Hue to Hoi An and another city to discover its secrets and stories.

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.

Cambodia: A Personal De-brief

Cambodia Recap

Today we all boarded the bus headed for Bangkok, Thailand, bright and early. We have a 6+ hour ride in total, 3 to the border and 3.5-4 hours into Bangkok. We drew the lucky straw and got the 45 passenger bus for 14 of us. Plenty of room to stretch out.

It’s nice to get a really early start…most of the daily activities of the locals happens before the sun is blazing high in the sky and the humidity kicks in. As we roll past rice fields and farms, small road side stands, typical houses and the ocasional neat and tidy, brightly colored home, everyone is busily preparing for their day. Families out in the rice fields, wielding scythes and woven baskets, others walking behind their water buffalo with long, thin switches, herding them to the tall grasses and thick muddy fields. Women, with straw brooms, sweeping the dirt in front of their fruit stands. Children in blue and white uniforms, gather under large thatch roof structures, absorbing knowledge from the teachers. The bright saffron robes of the monks, collecting their offerings from the villagers and shop owners. Honking horns, motorbikes, buses and tuk tuks, dodging each other jockeying for their purchase of pavement, turning 2 lane roads into 3 or 4. Others take their place, swaying gently in their hammocks, observers of life as it passes by the hour. There’s a certain peace about the chaos.

I can’t help but to reflect on the last 3 days of diving into the history and religious culture. The archeological perspective of a hard past… pride and humility, defeat and triumph, war and peace, life and death. Ancient ruins, carefully extracted from the jungle that sought to take back its natural state. Temples built on the backs of slaves and beasts of burden. Time capsules of history. Places of sacrifice and enlightenment. Schools and places of deep worship. Inside the stone pillars and walls, etched with great talent and insight, these are the words and lessons of past masters, kings, and ancestors. The desire to reconstruct and refurbish the towers and galleries was quite evident as all around us men carefully removed huge slabs of deteriorating sandstone and others etching the past back into the replcements. The mastery and skill needed to recreate such revered symbolism is highly prized.

Cambodia has reclaimed its place in SE Asia. The entire society, for the most part, is young and full of vision. Every family has been touched by the hand of war and genocide. It was hard to visit S-21 Re-education camp, (Security 21, a re-purposed high school used to interrogate and torture those that the Khmer leader Pol Pot, felt was a threat) and one of the many Killing Fields, mass unmarked graves. To hear the stories from those who were directly effected and yet somehow survived the horror, was tear jerking. The emotional scars pouring out in quivering voices and sudden looks of horror as they recant their personal demons. A sudden and palpable silence falls on the room as we were told stories of tyrannical torture and degradation of an educated section of the population, through the eyes of our local guide. Something as simple as wearing eyeglasses could be your death, but not only of yourself, but friends, family and so many others. Over 3 million Cambodians died in a 4 year period, either at the hand of the Khmer Rouge regime or from starvation and disease as whole populations were forced into labor and out of their homes.

From here, there’s not much more to tell. A resilient culture, proud people, and a young nation, struggling to change for the better. A loving people, lead by Buddhist teachings of respect and kindness. Cities…new and bristling with growth and new infrastructure. A simple folk just living day to day with smiling faces.

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.

Black Sand Beaches and Reality: North Cyprus

Here I am again, sitting here turning my wildest dreams into a reality on a black sand beach on the Mediterranean Sea. The warm waters and calm surf are perfect for bobbing and swimming. This island is so MUCH better than anyplace we’ve been so far this year.

The people are genuinely friendly. English is commonly spoken as well as Turkish and Greek. Americans are few and far between maybe because so many of us live in the bubble of propaganda and have never taken a chance to travel. Like really travel. We were afraid too.

Up until a month ago, while visiting Montenegro, I had never considered Cyprus, but more proper, The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus or TRNC. Now we’ve bought a garden apartment with a walk-out pool in a complex that will terrace its way up the hill in typical domino stacks of bright white buildings spilling into the sea.

It’s somewhat like Portugal’s Algarve coast, Croatia or Montenegro’s coastline but without the crowds. It’s a beautiful vista backset against the verdant green slopes of the mountains rising up from the sea. Albeit with much less of a dramatic gain in heights and angle.

This is a burgeoning area bringing itself and its people together to make a future. It’s easy going and pretty laid back. Food is incredible, even though french fries is a food group here. There is a good solid infrastructure and new hospitals. There’s an International University here, at least one I know of. We have actually used the medical system here twice this month.

Gas, food and lodging are pretty low priced and of excellent quality. Wine and beer are cheaper than a bottle of water here. Even the WiFi is incredibly fast. Cost of living is cheap and the Island checks off most of our boxes for a possible home base or investment for the future. One other plus, compared to the EU, people here tend to smoke less.

So back to the beach…the one thing the US has on every beach in the world we’ve been to is the desire to keep the country clean. Beaches, parking lots, natural environments. I love to look for beach glass, stones and trinkets. Seems no matter where I go I can pick up a half melted price of hard plastic waste that looks like a stone. There’s bits and pieces of various plastics and cans and a mountain of cigarette butts. And still, it’s too bad that this is “not too bad.”

The sun is warm today, we’ve had two days of rain, wind and heavy surf and the sea is calm and inviting. The warm water surrounds you in a warm watery blanket. Bobbing up and down like a bottle on the sea with a secret letter inside. Cares just drift away as the rhythm of the waves take over all sound. You melt into the calm.

The definitive line between horizon and sky is more like the edge of a mirror, reflecting sea onto sky. A few ghostly clouds from the storms, hang far-off on the horizon. The sea claps again breaking my stare.

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.

2,000 + Years of History: Kotor and Budva

We just left Kotor Old City for Budva Old City, Montenegro. It’s like stepping way back in time. Being from the United States, my mind is blown and mesmerized as I walk inside the stone walls and tiny alleyways. There are mazes of a stone, rising up to steep narrow halls and well worn steps climbing up and up to unseen passageways. There are layers upon layers of historic old buildings

Both of these cities were built as fortresses as far back as 600 BC. Romans, Illyrians, Byzantiums, Italians, Hungarians, French, Austrians, Russians, Germans, Kings and Queens all laid claim to these Adriatic cities at one time or another. They have survived fires, wars, plagues and earthquakes. Kotor was know by many names through the centuries as was Budva. The Serbian Dynasty played a hand in making Kotor a port city linking it to the west. The Nazis took over from 1941-1944 during WWII.

Budva Old City

Budva was founded by the Greek King and Queen of Thebe in the 5th century BC, King Kadmo and Queen Harmonia. Sharing much of the same historical occupations, wars and catastrophic earthquakes as Kotor, it remains a city steeped in rich history and pride.

In the 2nd century BC the Romans ruled until the fall of the Empire. The city fought occupation of all the same ruling countries as Kotor. As a well developed sea port, commodities of olives and grapes, made it a city worth occupying. It’s history is steeped in rich myth and folklore which the generations have kept alive.

Both Kotor and Budva were decimated most recently by a magnitude 7 earthquake in 1979. Over a thousand buildings and structures were damaged and 100,000 inhabitants were displaced. UNESCO stepped in and over the next 4 years both cities were restored to their historical original dispositions.

An old well in Budva

We would encourage anyone looking to immerse themselves in an ancient city, culture and the ghosts of the past, to visit and stay inside the walls of these two Adriatic Sea-towns. To wander through and get lost in the labyrinth of passageways during the day and then to encounter the city nights as well. To listen to the peal of the church bells, to adore the many beloved street cats, to climb the old worn stairs to the upper cities and hidden doorways leading to fascinating bars, restaurants and guesthouses. You can just feel the energy.

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