Vang Vieng
Virtually every backpacker who swings by Vang Vieng’s floats 3 kilometers down the Nam Song river in a giant inner tube. “Tubing,” amazingly enough, has made this tiny outpost a major stopover for Southeast Asia travelers. In fact, I’d say the entire town’s identity and economy revolves around tubing, with some ancillary outdoor activities also thrown into the mix.
Jen and I did the tubing thing, and admittedly found it a pretty fun and relaxing way to spend an afternoon. It’s not what I would call exciting - at this time of year, the river runs *really* slowly – but still – enjoyable. You float by riverside bars that look like part of the Swiss Family Robinson set, you have a Beerlao, you play volleyball, you take a turn on the rope swing...what’s not to like? Actually, Jen did find that it’s best to let go off the rope swing at the top, not bottom of the arc. She pretty much plowed into the water at top speed, much to the delight and horror of onlookers.
Vientiane
Our last Laos stop, Vientiane, had neither the grace of Luang Prabang nor the hedonistic vibe of Vang Vieng. Like our buddy Khanh said, “It’s dead, dude. Like Sacramento.”
But I did like seeing a city where tourism was a relatively minor part of daily life. Even in the most touristy areas, t-shirt shops and backpackers were few and far between. However, there are a lot of ex-pats in the city, thanks to all the embassies and foreign aid agencies. So you could get a great pain au chocolate along with your super strong Laos coffee in the morning. In fact, just for a change of scenery, we went to see a screwball French lesbian comedy at the French Cultural Center. As we walked to the theater, I had great hopes of enjoying pre-screening cocktails with all the French ex-pat glitterati. “Ah, remember the good old days, Pierre?” they would say. “Yes, colonialism was the best, wasn’t it?” So I was sorely disappointed to see only two other people at the theater. They did seem French, at least.
Basically, we walked around town all day, just getting a feel for the place. I liked this sign, on the giant monument in the center of town (I’d add a photo but I'm on a real slow connection):
“At the northeastern end of Lanexang Avenue arises a huge structure resembling the Arc de Triomphe. It is the Victory Gate of Ventiane, built in 1962, but never complete [sic] due to the country’s turbulent history. From a closer distance it appears even less impressive, like a monster of concrete.”
I think Vientiane’s PR and marketing department could use a little help. “Monster of concrete?” Ouch.
Oh, the hot soymilk we had from a street vendor was great. One of the best street foods yet.
Goodbye Laos, Hello Nepal
We’re staying at a friend’s place just outside of Kathmandu. My first impression of the city is that it is friggin’ amazing and insane. For the first time on this trip I feel like I’m seeing a place that’s totally unfamiliar and new. Total sensory overload. Tomorrow we leave on a 21-day trek around Annapurna. More when we return…
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Friday, February 17, 2006
Asking For It
(This is an old post, I had trouble publishing a few days ago)... Asking For It should have been the title of Simon's Bangkok post. I think I cursed myself, as I joked with some friends back at home about needing to eat some improperly handled food to lose all the weight I gained while on the Marco Polo and from the Argentine steaks, fries and quarter kilo tubs of ice cream. On my last day in SF, of all places, I developed a stomach ache which had stuck with me through the flight to Asia. I wasn't particularly hungry but did my best to have a bite of everything that Simon ate. And of course, I got sick. I'll spare you the gory detials, it wasn't that bad, but I didn't want to venture too far away from our guest house for a few days. But I'm okay now (though the same weight) and ready to conquer, after all, I am in noodle heaven. |
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Luang Prabang: The Adventure Continues
Luang Prabang
(Blogger seems to be messing with its photo function and it has a few bugs. I'll add some later.)
Luang Prabang ranks as one of the most beautiful cities we've seen, right up there with Salvador, Brazil. And like Salvador, Luang Prabang has a staff of foreign and local architects constantly working to preserve the city's historical resources, thanks to its designation as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The cities architectural riches include over 30 functioning Buddhist temples - golden towers with graceful swooping eaves - nestled among historic French colonial buildings. The city's pedestrian-friendly layout is the stuff of city planners' wet dreams.
The streets are active, but not noisy, with a steady stream of motorcabs and bicycles. Orange-robed monks stroll alongside tourists in Tevas, school children, and Lao women in colorful native skirts. Tree-lined brick alleys weave among quiet temples, and open air restaurants line the Mekong River, selling fruit shakes, curries, beer, and barbecue.
Luang Prabang's highlight, however, is its night market. This three block long handicraft fair appears on the main street every evening, with people selling handwoven fabrics, local food, wood carvings, knickknacks, and the ubiquitous Beerlao t-shirts. The vendors lounge on colorful rugs, lit by strings of yellow lightbulbs. Unlike many night markets, a strange hush hangs over the street. People speak in low murmurs, as if in a library. A "saba dee" here and there, some quiet bargaining, but no radios or salespeople trying to push anything on you. The loudest noise is the chanting of the monks in the surrounding temples at sundown.
In fact, this peacefulness is Luang Prabang's defining characteristic. Unlike Bahia, Brazil, which prides itself on its "traquilo" beach vibe, the feeling here is more Zen calm than afternoon siesta.
Shared Encounters
Over the last two days, we did an overnight trek to some native villages outside of the city. The landscape was "more interesting than beautiful," as described by an Aussie girl we met. Villagers have decimated the local flora and fauna through heavy slash and burn agriculture, and the hillsides are a checkerboard of bare spots and new growth.
Laos is made up of several distinct ethnic groups, with the Lao, Hmong, and Khmu the most widely recognized in the Luang Prabang region. These cultures vary significantly in terms of religion and language, as well as more obscure characteristics like the number of doors in their houses, the altitude they live at, and how they carry firewood. Our trek took us through each of these communities, and ended at a Hmong village where we spent the night at an elder's house.
The poverty in these villages is harsh, though folks seem to manage pretty well with subsistence agriculture. Clothes and flashlight batteries seem to be the major supplies they need from town. However, you can see major problems on the horizon, as the Lao government continues to urge villages to move down the hillsides and consolidate closer to roads, utilities, schools, and other infrastructure. This process will inevitably lead to conflicts as villages become more crowded and resources scarce. God only knows how their distinct cultures will be affected over time. Understandably, the government hopes to promote education and economic development in these rural areas, but you have to wonder if folks would be better off just living the same way they have for hundreds of years.
Derek, the cheezy French Canadian manager of our trekking service insists on referring to the village visits as "sharing an encounter."* Though appallingly PC, I think it accurately describes the bizarre cultural exchange that occurs on these treks. We ogle the dirt floors, native dress, babies crawling unsupervised through rocks, and livestock everywhere, while they marvel at our digital cameras, inflatable matresses, clunky hiking boots, and IPods. (One of the guys on our tour discovered the kids could get down to SnoopDogg, bopping up and down while sharing the headphones, but got bored with Miles Davis. Good beats are universal, apparently.) While the villagers see a relatively steady stream of trekkers, tourists still remain somewhat of a novelty, as evidenced by the children that gathered to stare everywhere we went.**
Throughout these shared encounters, I felt creepy and voyeuristic. You can't help it, particularly when you step into a smelly hot dark hut and think, "I'm in for a grim night." The fact that you paid more money than this family will see this year to have this experience only makes it worse ($50 each, for the record). That being said, playing with the children, letting the local men take a few hammy karate pose photos of each other with the camera, learning local vocab with the help of a phrase book - anything besides sitting in a corner, quietly observing, helps to ease this tension for me. By morning, I even felt more comfortable in the hut and with the villagers.
How the West Has Won
I don't know why SE Asia seems so much more vulnerable to Western culture than South America. The catering to tourists is even more pronounced than in Cuzco, Peru, probably the most touristy town we've seen thus far. (Ushuaia, Argentina is touristy, but in the same way Times Square is touristy. You know what I mean.) Whole towns, like Vang Vieng, our current location, are overwhelmed by tourists. Vang Vieng is infamous for the Friends Bars, three open air bars right next to one another showing a constant stream of Friends episodes to stoned or drunk backpackers. (Aighhh! There is no God!!) Somehow, even the most touristy South American destination appears less compromised than this. It's not just a question of size, either, as much of Bangkok, a huge city, is just as ready to lay itself prostate to the tourist dollar.
To its credit, Luang Prabang has made efforts to protect itself from tourists. Posters are everywhere explaining how to behave yourself at the monks' daily alms ritual. Another poster gives tips on how to conduct yourself as a tourist, my favorite being "Maintain good hygiene, or prepare to be laughed at." There's a little cartoon of nasty barefoot hippes with torn clothes and locals pointing and laughing. Priceless. Even Vang Vieng guesthouses have handwritten signs pleading tourists to maintain a neat appearance.
Lao Disco
Last night we went to the local disco, upon recommendation from Derek. It was excellent. When we came in, people were dancing to standard club technopop, albeit with a little more restraint than Westerners would. The action realy picked up, though, when the live music came on. The act, which looked like a wedding band with 40-year old men in suits, played what can only be described as "adult contemporary" Lao music, which fired the crowd up into a series of complex line dances. The people broke it down in a reserved, yet strangely charming way, never touching, never making any sharp or aggressive movements. As is typical in Laos, the place shut down at 11:30pm sharp.
I Can't Stop Eating
The other day I rented a tiny pink girl's bike with a basket and biked around Luang Prabang, stopping whenever I saw a food vendor.
Between the street food bike trip and just walking around, I've tried:
A fried empanada filled with sweet corn
Fresh sugar cane juice on ice (served in a plastic bag)
A sweet waffle, possibly made with taro
Mystery meat on a stick, grilled over coals
Salty sticky rice cooked on a stick (the one thing I haven't really liked thus far)
Grab bag of savory and sweet pastries and cookies
Orange cake
Sugar coated fried dough (i.e., a donut)
Dinner several times at a street buffet at the night market. You pick veggies, rice, and noodles, toss them into a bowl, and the lady heats it all up in a wok. You pour on various sauces at the table. $0.50 for this.
Noodles.
All in all, I'd say the food is similar to Thai, but generally less vibrant and tasty. It's good, but not amazing.
* One of Derek's clients came into the office while we were there, and complained that his motorcab driver had brought him to a handicraft store on the way to the trailhead. Derek, equally pissed, exclaimed, "But that's not a shared encounter!"
** Between our time in Iquitos, a random bike trip Jen and I made to a village across the Mekong from Luang Prabang, and this 2-day trek, I've become pretty adept at entertaining the kids. Digital cameras are especially great for this.
(Blogger seems to be messing with its photo function and it has a few bugs. I'll add some later.)
Luang Prabang ranks as one of the most beautiful cities we've seen, right up there with Salvador, Brazil. And like Salvador, Luang Prabang has a staff of foreign and local architects constantly working to preserve the city's historical resources, thanks to its designation as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The cities architectural riches include over 30 functioning Buddhist temples - golden towers with graceful swooping eaves - nestled among historic French colonial buildings. The city's pedestrian-friendly layout is the stuff of city planners' wet dreams.
The streets are active, but not noisy, with a steady stream of motorcabs and bicycles. Orange-robed monks stroll alongside tourists in Tevas, school children, and Lao women in colorful native skirts. Tree-lined brick alleys weave among quiet temples, and open air restaurants line the Mekong River, selling fruit shakes, curries, beer, and barbecue.
Luang Prabang's highlight, however, is its night market. This three block long handicraft fair appears on the main street every evening, with people selling handwoven fabrics, local food, wood carvings, knickknacks, and the ubiquitous Beerlao t-shirts. The vendors lounge on colorful rugs, lit by strings of yellow lightbulbs. Unlike many night markets, a strange hush hangs over the street. People speak in low murmurs, as if in a library. A "saba dee" here and there, some quiet bargaining, but no radios or salespeople trying to push anything on you. The loudest noise is the chanting of the monks in the surrounding temples at sundown.
In fact, this peacefulness is Luang Prabang's defining characteristic. Unlike Bahia, Brazil, which prides itself on its "traquilo" beach vibe, the feeling here is more Zen calm than afternoon siesta.
Shared Encounters
Over the last two days, we did an overnight trek to some native villages outside of the city. The landscape was "more interesting than beautiful," as described by an Aussie girl we met. Villagers have decimated the local flora and fauna through heavy slash and burn agriculture, and the hillsides are a checkerboard of bare spots and new growth.
Laos is made up of several distinct ethnic groups, with the Lao, Hmong, and Khmu the most widely recognized in the Luang Prabang region. These cultures vary significantly in terms of religion and language, as well as more obscure characteristics like the number of doors in their houses, the altitude they live at, and how they carry firewood. Our trek took us through each of these communities, and ended at a Hmong village where we spent the night at an elder's house.
The poverty in these villages is harsh, though folks seem to manage pretty well with subsistence agriculture. Clothes and flashlight batteries seem to be the major supplies they need from town. However, you can see major problems on the horizon, as the Lao government continues to urge villages to move down the hillsides and consolidate closer to roads, utilities, schools, and other infrastructure. This process will inevitably lead to conflicts as villages become more crowded and resources scarce. God only knows how their distinct cultures will be affected over time. Understandably, the government hopes to promote education and economic development in these rural areas, but you have to wonder if folks would be better off just living the same way they have for hundreds of years.
Derek, the cheezy French Canadian manager of our trekking service insists on referring to the village visits as "sharing an encounter."* Though appallingly PC, I think it accurately describes the bizarre cultural exchange that occurs on these treks. We ogle the dirt floors, native dress, babies crawling unsupervised through rocks, and livestock everywhere, while they marvel at our digital cameras, inflatable matresses, clunky hiking boots, and IPods. (One of the guys on our tour discovered the kids could get down to SnoopDogg, bopping up and down while sharing the headphones, but got bored with Miles Davis. Good beats are universal, apparently.) While the villagers see a relatively steady stream of trekkers, tourists still remain somewhat of a novelty, as evidenced by the children that gathered to stare everywhere we went.**
Throughout these shared encounters, I felt creepy and voyeuristic. You can't help it, particularly when you step into a smelly hot dark hut and think, "I'm in for a grim night." The fact that you paid more money than this family will see this year to have this experience only makes it worse ($50 each, for the record). That being said, playing with the children, letting the local men take a few hammy karate pose photos of each other with the camera, learning local vocab with the help of a phrase book - anything besides sitting in a corner, quietly observing, helps to ease this tension for me. By morning, I even felt more comfortable in the hut and with the villagers.
How the West Has Won
I don't know why SE Asia seems so much more vulnerable to Western culture than South America. The catering to tourists is even more pronounced than in Cuzco, Peru, probably the most touristy town we've seen thus far. (Ushuaia, Argentina is touristy, but in the same way Times Square is touristy. You know what I mean.) Whole towns, like Vang Vieng, our current location, are overwhelmed by tourists. Vang Vieng is infamous for the Friends Bars, three open air bars right next to one another showing a constant stream of Friends episodes to stoned or drunk backpackers. (Aighhh! There is no God!!) Somehow, even the most touristy South American destination appears less compromised than this. It's not just a question of size, either, as much of Bangkok, a huge city, is just as ready to lay itself prostate to the tourist dollar.
To its credit, Luang Prabang has made efforts to protect itself from tourists. Posters are everywhere explaining how to behave yourself at the monks' daily alms ritual. Another poster gives tips on how to conduct yourself as a tourist, my favorite being "Maintain good hygiene, or prepare to be laughed at." There's a little cartoon of nasty barefoot hippes with torn clothes and locals pointing and laughing. Priceless. Even Vang Vieng guesthouses have handwritten signs pleading tourists to maintain a neat appearance.
Lao Disco
Last night we went to the local disco, upon recommendation from Derek. It was excellent. When we came in, people were dancing to standard club technopop, albeit with a little more restraint than Westerners would. The action realy picked up, though, when the live music came on. The act, which looked like a wedding band with 40-year old men in suits, played what can only be described as "adult contemporary" Lao music, which fired the crowd up into a series of complex line dances. The people broke it down in a reserved, yet strangely charming way, never touching, never making any sharp or aggressive movements. As is typical in Laos, the place shut down at 11:30pm sharp.
I Can't Stop Eating
The other day I rented a tiny pink girl's bike with a basket and biked around Luang Prabang, stopping whenever I saw a food vendor.
Between the street food bike trip and just walking around, I've tried:
A fried empanada filled with sweet corn
Fresh sugar cane juice on ice (served in a plastic bag)
A sweet waffle, possibly made with taro
Mystery meat on a stick, grilled over coals
Salty sticky rice cooked on a stick (the one thing I haven't really liked thus far)
Grab bag of savory and sweet pastries and cookies
Orange cake
Sugar coated fried dough (i.e., a donut)
Dinner several times at a street buffet at the night market. You pick veggies, rice, and noodles, toss them into a bowl, and the lady heats it all up in a wok. You pour on various sauces at the table. $0.50 for this.
Noodles.
All in all, I'd say the food is similar to Thai, but generally less vibrant and tasty. It's good, but not amazing.
* One of Derek's clients came into the office while we were there, and complained that his motorcab driver had brought him to a handicraft store on the way to the trailhead. Derek, equally pissed, exclaimed, "But that's not a shared encounter!"
** Between our time in Iquitos, a random bike trip Jen and I made to a village across the Mekong from Luang Prabang, and this 2-day trek, I've become pretty adept at entertaining the kids. Digital cameras are especially great for this.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
One Night in Bangkok
(I mean, I had to use that title, right?)
48 Hours in the East Bay
Following a three stopover flight from BA to SFO and 24 hours of travel, we stumbled into Neil and Rachel's apartment exhausted, but happy to be home. After three months of traveling, I was struck by the easy access to an enormous fridge, cold potable water from the tap, a big fluffy comforter, and the plush toilet paper. (I swear it's at least 250 thread count. Stop over sometime.)
We spent the two days madly doing errands, eating a lot of Mexican food (I had it three times), filing our tax extension, and trading out some stuff from our house, which seems in good shape (knock on wood).
Jen has also realized the job market is bleak. That, combined with a few other factors, has made us toy with the idea of an extra two months in Asia (we had planned on three). It's embarassingly indulgent, I know, but all signs point to yes. That would give us enough time to take a crash course in Mandarin and really trek the Himalayas to our heart's content. We'll see...
Food Porn En Route to Laos
We're now spending the night in Bangkok, basically eating as much street food as possible and getting Thai massages (insert happy ending joke here).
While home, my boss at BAE asked me why we dedicate so much blog space to food. It's true. We love it. While traveling, I spend the day wondering what to have for dinner, or, in the case of Argentina, planning my ice cream combo for the evening. We have long discussions on Top 5 Meals of the trip, regularly updating the list as new entries appear. (For the record, most of them were in Brazil, with the boar as a strong Argentina entry.) The Bottom 5 are equally debated. (Peru, sadly, is well represented, though, to be fair, one of those meals was on a bus)
Given this food obsession, Thailand is AWESOME. While the commercialism and rampant backpacker scene turns me off, I could spend two days just wandering from street vendor to street vendor. In fact, that's what I'm doing now.
In the last seven hours, I've had a spicy green curry with rice, a banana crepe with condensed milk, barbecue chicken on a stick, these crunchy savory/sweet taco-like things (my favorite so far), fresh cucumbers and deep fried fish fritters in a spicy sweet sauce, pineapple wedges on a stick, and a rambutan fruit shake (a bold, possibly unwise move since it was made with unidentified water and ice). And nothing was more than $1.
Tomorrow we leave at 1:30pm for Laos, so I have the morning to keep going. On my hit list: mango sticky rice, green papaya salad, assorted meats on a stick, and whatever else I can find. I cannot, however, bring myself to have the grasshoppers or grubs, which they sell on a stick or in a bag like popcorn. I'm a big baby, I know. If it were Fear Factor, I'd be walking off in slow motion, with a voiceover saying how proud I was to make it that far. But, hell, you can see the wings and eyes and antennae and everything! (See photo. I think this guy should rethink his business plan and charge people just to take the photo, because I suspect he has more photographers than bug buyers.)Quick Thoughts on Bangkok
At a glance, it looks a lot like Manila. But the traces of Buddhism (wats all over), the unparalleled street life, and the tourists everywhere really stand out as different.
No place we saw in Peru, Brazil, or Argentina had quite the concentration of foreign tourists as our little backpacker ghetto in Bangkok. In this neighborhood, we outnumber the locals by far. Also, I'm a little disturbed by how well they cater to us. They really have us pegged. Right now, for example, they're showing Napoleon Dynamite in the bar behind me. The t-shirts, Lonely Planet books, backpacks, and other crap for sale are EXACTLY the sort of things we need and want. Frankly, it just seems too contrived. Dorky white guys with tiny Thai women on their arms are everywhere. Like Leonardo di Caprio in The Beach, I, too, long for an "authentic" experience, not just one made for foreign consumption. (Just one of many ways Leo and I are alike. It's eerie, really.) I know this is problematic, but there it is.
That being said, I dig the energy and vibe of Bangkok on a Saturday night. It's really really fun. I could sit and drink cold beers on the street, watching the people go by all night, occasionally wandering over to the nearest vendor to get more meat on a stick.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Unhijacked Thoughts on Antartica
Nargh, I accidently lost this post the other day, so I'm gonna have to try to recreate the wheel here...Most of this is old news, since we've actually left Argentina and are back in SF for two days before Asia...
Happy Belated Chinese New Year! So I am glad that Simon hijacked my blog and added more info on the trip. I was getting a bit tired during that blog, b/c for some reason, I was feeling a little seasick being off the boat. Wierd I know, but I felt like I was walking on matresses all day. Anyhoo, there were a few things that I wanted to emphasis, clarify and add to the Antarctica blog that weren't there before.
Ready for the Titantic
Okay, Simon talked about formal night briefly, but this definitely deserves some elaboration because you really have to know how terrible we looked. So once we learned of the formal nights, Janine and I scrambled around trying tofind clothes that weren't made out of some quick-dry high-tech fabric or denim. We ended up getting these black pants for about $20 US. You can't go wrong with black, right? The guys said they weren't interested in buying suits, so they said the would opt for dinner at the alternative dining room. Alix, Janine and I figured we'd just have a girls night.
But we learned a few hours before the first formal dinner, that the guys could borrow suits from the boat. And surely enough, our trusty cabin steward, Exor, delivered an "outfit" to our door 20 minutes before dinner started. (Yes, his name was really "Exor.") These are the outfits that Simon, Alan and Yossei were sporting in the previous Antarctica posting. If you look closely you will notice that Simon's hiking boot seems a little more exposed the others. You might think it's an issue with the camera angle, but sadly no. Simon's pants were about three sizes too small, and the hem of the pants barely skimmed the top of his boots. He looked like he was ready for the Marco Polo to take on water. We actually tried to take a picture of the hem of the pants, but no joke, the flash reflected off the shine of his black pants and the image was washed out. In addition, he had to use safety pins to close up his pants. Thankfully he had a double breasted jacket.
This outfit looked truly horrendous and I can't believe they would even loan them out on the ships. The scene could have been worse, Simon was initially going to wear his white trainers (that's "sneakers" for those of you who haven't been spending too much time with Brits) with the outfit, which I convinced him out of. But I laughed all the way to dinner. And when Janine noticed his pants, she was laughing to the point of tears. She had been suffering through some bad seasickness for most of the day, but she said that all the laughing cured her and was begging him not to take the pants off. So much for Dramamine.
I should say that I wasn't looking so great either. I wore these mint green shoes with black pants. The pants I had gotten were too long and I had to duct tape them up on the boat (which was a trick I learned as an intern in DC). It was quite the scene before dinner as Simon was pinning his pants and I was duct taping mine.
I should also mention Tom and Mary, the couple seated at our table as well. They were an older couple and incredibly sweet. They assured us on the first night that we wouldn't have a problem getting into the formal nights, and if we did, they told us to just call over to them, and say "Grandma, were here!" They were seasoned travellers themselves and it was clear that they were fairly well off, but they kept saying sincerely, that it has been a very good life and that they were so lucky to have good health, a wonderful family and successful careers. It's something that is really wonderful to hear someone say and you don't hear it enough. And when Mary saw me and Simon waiting for the dining room doors to be be opened, she said "My don't you two look nice! It would be an honor to dine with you." As I said, incredibly sweet.
I have to hand it to Simon who pulled it off the night with class. If it were me, I would have opted to eat alone at the buffet table for dinner. And if Simon had laughed at my outfit all the way to dinner, I would have thrown him overboard. Honestly, I have no idea if this comes across as being funny to you - might be something you just have to see - but I'm still laughing as I write about this for the second time. This has to be one of my favorite memories of the trip so far.
Things That Were Meant to Be
I am still amazed at how everything worked out the way it did for the trip and it really happened because of an odd set of coincidences.
First of all, we would have never even met Alan and Janine, if we weren't put on the same trekking group on the Inca Trail. And I don't think Alan and I would have been able to convince our significant others on our own. But our joint enthusiam, along with the fact that there would be another couple to hangout with on the boat, really helped convince Simon and Janine.
Second, and this is small, but really significant. The day we found the tickets we were slated to go hiking with Alan and Janine, but when we met up, Simon realized he forgot his camera. While he went back for it, Alan mentioned the deal he had heard about the night before. By the time Simon came back, the seed was planted and fertilizing in my mind. This sparked the day long search for tickets across Ushuaia. If Simon hadn't forgotten the camera, and we had gone on a hike as planned, we wouldn't have had the time to research these tickets.
(I have to say, Alan and I were on the same page all day. Our thought processes were remarkable similar. We both saw it as an opportunity of a lifetime and were really determined to see it through. We felt that we would be satisfied if someone at the end of the line just said, "I'm sorry, it's too late." But we never got that response. Instead we always got another phone number, another agency to try. And when we got the last number to call at 5 pm, I looked at Alan and said, "Okay, last number." And of course, that was the magic number.)
Third, if we hadn't missed the boat the first time we wouldn't have gone with Alix, who we met in Buenos Aires. I had been thinking about emailing here while I was in Ushuaia to see if she was around, but I got bogged down with a job application. Holger, one of the people who witnessed our high fiving the first time around, decided to try to go on the cruise the following week, but needed a cabinmate. Alix arrived in town the day he put up a sign in her hostal. As soon as Alan and Janine mentioned that Holger had found a cabinmate who was a British girl named Alix, I knew it was her.
It was amazing to meet up again with three people whom we really liked from our previous travels and spend a week with them on the boat. It certainly wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. You meet a lot of really great people along the way, but you rarely spend more than a day or two with them before you part ways. So it's nice when you can meet people again and that goodbye isn't forever.
Happy Belated Chinese New Year! So I am glad that Simon hijacked my blog and added more info on the trip. I was getting a bit tired during that blog, b/c for some reason, I was feeling a little seasick being off the boat. Wierd I know, but I felt like I was walking on matresses all day. Anyhoo, there were a few things that I wanted to emphasis, clarify and add to the Antarctica blog that weren't there before.
Ready for the Titantic
Okay, Simon talked about formal night briefly, but this definitely deserves some elaboration because you really have to know how terrible we looked. So once we learned of the formal nights, Janine and I scrambled around trying tofind clothes that weren't made out of some quick-dry high-tech fabric or denim. We ended up getting these black pants for about $20 US. You can't go wrong with black, right? The guys said they weren't interested in buying suits, so they said the would opt for dinner at the alternative dining room. Alix, Janine and I figured we'd just have a girls night.
But we learned a few hours before the first formal dinner, that the guys could borrow suits from the boat. And surely enough, our trusty cabin steward, Exor, delivered an "outfit" to our door 20 minutes before dinner started. (Yes, his name was really "Exor.") These are the outfits that Simon, Alan and Yossei were sporting in the previous Antarctica posting. If you look closely you will notice that Simon's hiking boot seems a little more exposed the others. You might think it's an issue with the camera angle, but sadly no. Simon's pants were about three sizes too small, and the hem of the pants barely skimmed the top of his boots. He looked like he was ready for the Marco Polo to take on water. We actually tried to take a picture of the hem of the pants, but no joke, the flash reflected off the shine of his black pants and the image was washed out. In addition, he had to use safety pins to close up his pants. Thankfully he had a double breasted jacket.
This outfit looked truly horrendous and I can't believe they would even loan them out on the ships. The scene could have been worse, Simon was initially going to wear his white trainers (that's "sneakers" for those of you who haven't been spending too much time with Brits) with the outfit, which I convinced him out of. But I laughed all the way to dinner. And when Janine noticed his pants, she was laughing to the point of tears. She had been suffering through some bad seasickness for most of the day, but she said that all the laughing cured her and was begging him not to take the pants off. So much for Dramamine.
I should say that I wasn't looking so great either. I wore these mint green shoes with black pants. The pants I had gotten were too long and I had to duct tape them up on the boat (which was a trick I learned as an intern in DC). It was quite the scene before dinner as Simon was pinning his pants and I was duct taping mine.
I should also mention Tom and Mary, the couple seated at our table as well. They were an older couple and incredibly sweet. They assured us on the first night that we wouldn't have a problem getting into the formal nights, and if we did, they told us to just call over to them, and say "Grandma, were here!" They were seasoned travellers themselves and it was clear that they were fairly well off, but they kept saying sincerely, that it has been a very good life and that they were so lucky to have good health, a wonderful family and successful careers. It's something that is really wonderful to hear someone say and you don't hear it enough. And when Mary saw me and Simon waiting for the dining room doors to be be opened, she said "My don't you two look nice! It would be an honor to dine with you." As I said, incredibly sweet.
I have to hand it to Simon who pulled it off the night with class. If it were me, I would have opted to eat alone at the buffet table for dinner. And if Simon had laughed at my outfit all the way to dinner, I would have thrown him overboard. Honestly, I have no idea if this comes across as being funny to you - might be something you just have to see - but I'm still laughing as I write about this for the second time. This has to be one of my favorite memories of the trip so far.
Things That Were Meant to Be
I am still amazed at how everything worked out the way it did for the trip and it really happened because of an odd set of coincidences.
First of all, we would have never even met Alan and Janine, if we weren't put on the same trekking group on the Inca Trail. And I don't think Alan and I would have been able to convince our significant others on our own. But our joint enthusiam, along with the fact that there would be another couple to hangout with on the boat, really helped convince Simon and Janine.
Second, and this is small, but really significant. The day we found the tickets we were slated to go hiking with Alan and Janine, but when we met up, Simon realized he forgot his camera. While he went back for it, Alan mentioned the deal he had heard about the night before. By the time Simon came back, the seed was planted and fertilizing in my mind. This sparked the day long search for tickets across Ushuaia. If Simon hadn't forgotten the camera, and we had gone on a hike as planned, we wouldn't have had the time to research these tickets.
(I have to say, Alan and I were on the same page all day. Our thought processes were remarkable similar. We both saw it as an opportunity of a lifetime and were really determined to see it through. We felt that we would be satisfied if someone at the end of the line just said, "I'm sorry, it's too late." But we never got that response. Instead we always got another phone number, another agency to try. And when we got the last number to call at 5 pm, I looked at Alan and said, "Okay, last number." And of course, that was the magic number.)
Third, if we hadn't missed the boat the first time we wouldn't have gone with Alix, who we met in Buenos Aires. I had been thinking about emailing here while I was in Ushuaia to see if she was around, but I got bogged down with a job application. Holger, one of the people who witnessed our high fiving the first time around, decided to try to go on the cruise the following week, but needed a cabinmate. Alix arrived in town the day he put up a sign in her hostal. As soon as Alan and Janine mentioned that Holger had found a cabinmate who was a British girl named Alix, I knew it was her.
It was amazing to meet up again with three people whom we really liked from our previous travels and spend a week with them on the boat. It certainly wouldn't have been nearly as much fun. You meet a lot of really great people along the way, but you rarely spend more than a day or two with them before you part ways. So it's nice when you can meet people again and that goodbye isn't forever.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Last Stop: Bariloche, Argentina
It´s almost too easy here. The food is delicious and reasonably priced, we´re camping in a nice lady´s backyard, the weather is wonderful, and the trekking is gorgeous. Sadly, we hop a bus this afternoon to Buenos Aires, then head back home to SF. On the plus side, we´ve heard great things about the buses here. We opted for the one with a super reclining chair (almost bedlike), since it´s a 20+ hour trip. Apparently, it´s like being in first class on an airplane. They bring around drinks (including alcohol), food, and of course there will be movies.
Eat Bariloche
Bariloche is a lot like Lake Tahoe, a ski town right next to a big blue lake, surrounded by snow capped peaks. The shopping is probably a little more touristy than you´ll find in Tahoe, but it´s not too obnoxious.
The city has lived up to its reputation for great food, which we´ve been sampling liberally since we don´t have access to a stove (in Argentina we´ve typically been buying groceries and cooking ourselves). In the photo I´m about to dig into a plate of wild boar with a brown mushroom sauce, potato puffs, and carmelized carrots. Boar is a local specialty, and as a big Asterix fan, I had to try it. One of the best meals of the trip thus far. (You´ll also see my hair at the longest it´s been in years.)
Prices are decent which made dining out more reasonable. The boar cost $9 at a fancy restaurant, and you can get a whole roast chicken with fries for $6. Big plate of spaghetti with bolognesa sauce - $2. Quarter kilo of the best ice cream ever, with three flavors - $2.15 (dark chocolate with orange bits, passion fruit, and chocolate chip was my Dream Team combo after eating there almost every night). A dozen beef empanadas - $2.30.
Trek BarilocheWe did a couple of overnights to huts in the local national park. The first involved a hellish slog on a hot, steep, blood-sucking fly infested, dusty trail. The flies there were the size of nickels, buzz in your ears, and hurt like hell when they bite. You couldn´t stop to rest or appreciate any views (which were limited) because you´d instantly be swarmed. It was all worth it once we got above treeline, though. The hut, an impeccably maintained cabin with a wood stove, beautiful kitchen, and spectacular 360 degree vista, was perched at the edge of an enormous glacier. Giant Andean condors circled overhead. Seriously. See photo at sunrise.
The second trek took took us along a ridge with awesome views of the valley below, jagged volcanic spires above, and some surprisingly impressive exposure. At some points we had to do minor hand clambering over big drops. Super fun.I would definitely come back here to do some longer treks. I could imagine one month in Patagonia spent backpacking in parks around Bariloche, Fitz Roy, and Torres del Paine in Chile (which we skipped in favor of Antarctica).
Asia Next, Specifically Laos
It´ll be weird shifting gears in Asia. I expect language problems, more weather extremes, bad stomachs, and dirtier hostels and bathrooms. But at least the food will be exciting and cheap. Like I said, Argentina was just too easy. We´ve gone all soft.
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