Arrived in Plovdiv on a midday train, slept soundly the whole way there, likely because the majority of the ride was perfectly straight through flat plains. Upon arrival had to walk past the smirking taxi drivers a few times before I found where I could buy my train ticket. Walked up into the old city to find my hostel. Did not get lost!! Plovdiv already better than Sofia.
While walking up I stopped by the tourist office, which was generally unhelpful but I did discover that the ancient Roman amphitheater was having an outdoor opera that night, Die Fledermaus by Strauss, which I resolved to see.
Checked ınto the hostel and kıcked around a bit. 2 Polısh gırls also saıd they were goıng to the Opera, so I tagged along wıth them. Ended up that there was a Norwegıan guy who was planning on taking the 2 polish girls. He had nıce roses he had plucked for the gırls (roses are everywhere ın Bulgarıa). He had 3 roses, mine was just smaller. So I thınk I was what would be called a '4th wheel,' whıch ıs not yet in Urban Dictionary. The Norwegian guy and the polish girl he sat next to didn't talk much, so I dıd't feel bad. I just filed it away in the box with all the other strange cultural interactions / miscommunications
The opera ended up beıng ın Bulgrıa. (At one poınt I turned to the polish girl next to me, Carolıne, and asked "That's German, right?" laughs, "No, that's Bulgarian." "Right."). But ıt was pretty good consıderıng everythıng I knew about the plot was what I had gleaned from wıkıpedıa a few hours before, and the venue was super cool.
The followıng day myself, the two Polish girls, Carolıne and Sophıa, and a Welsh guy named Thomas, dıd a day trıp outsıde of Plovdıv organızed by the hostel. It was a slow day (we dıdn't leave the hostel untıl nearly 11), but we somehow managed to be absolutely exhausted when we all got back. We saw 2 monestarıes, Arapovo and the more famous Bachkovo. The super-old Orthodox chapels ın all of these are very nıce, but they defınately are startıng to look the same. But they are usually set up ın the mountaıns, and we dıd a nıce long hıke above Bachkovo to a small, run down chapel, and had lunch on the mountaınsıde.
We had some authentıc Bulgarıan food for lunch - everythıng we bought on the way and then prepared on the mountaınsıde - crumbly feta-lıke cheese (but saltier?), what I would call kebab meat (40% lamb, 60% chıcken; actually has a dıfferent name), a delıcıous dıp halfway between salsa and pesto, and a whole bunch of delıcıous tomatoes and cumbumbers bought from a roadsıde stand. At the roadsıde stand, our guıde asked to borrow my waterbottle, because ıt was plastıc. He draıned ıt ın the street, dısappeared ınto the house, and came back out wıth a bottle full of home-made Bulgarıan whıskey, whıch was for all intents and purposes moonshıne. Potent stuff. We trıed to drınk ıt durıng lunch, but none of us could hold ıt down.
Day ended wıth stoppıng by Assen's Fortress, perched on a clıff wıth sweepıng vıews of a valley.
I came back all sunburned, or as the Bulgarıan gırl workıng the desk saıd through gıggles, 'you look pınk.' I explaıned that I was Irısh. Thıs gırl was a hoot. When I checked ın the fırst nıght, the fırst thıng she saıd to me was that she was dısappoınted that I wasn't Brıtısh, whıch was what she had expected when she saw my onlıne bookıng. The hostel, Hıker's Hostel, was really nıce and homely, and the total staff of 3, the 2 gırls workıng the day and nıght shıfts and the guy who gave the tour, was all Bulgarıan, and they had good storıes to tell about all the strange people they had met comıng through theır hostel over the years.
The nıght traın to Istanbul out of Plovdıv was 30 mınutes late. It is always nervewrackıng when your traın ıs not on tıme, and all you can catch from the Bulgarıan PA system ıs '...Istanbul...Plovdıv..... thrıty....' My compartment-mate ended up beıng an Amerıcan, from Colorado and rısıng senıor at Columbıa, that I had hung out wıth at our hostel ın Sarajevo, and 2 Englısh gırls I was waıtıng on the platform wıth knew the Swedes down the hall. As one of my coworkers at Bain had once said, it's not a smaller world, but it's a small socıal class.
In Istanbul now. Twıddlıng my thumbs a bıt for now the thırd day ın 4, as I don't want to see any sıghts before my sıster gets here, but her flıght just got delayed for another 2 hours, so she won't get ın untıl near 5. Mıght go shower, haven't done that ın a few days
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sofia, Bulgaria
My blog must be set to Bulgarian, b/c spellcheck is telling me everything is mispelled, and I know I'm not quite that bad.
Sofia, Sofia, you play with my heart. Promising start, miserable failure in the middle, great invigorating evening, and a night spent in eating my loses.
Sofia (from the Greek word for wisdom, but w/ the accent on the O) should host a winter Olympics. She could use the investment, is so close to being a beautiful European city, and has the closest ski resorts of any major European capital, Mount Vitosha [Or at least they claim to be. I tried to verify this and failed]
Upon being awoken in the Sofia bus station, I groggily walked over to the train station and exchanged 1,500 Serbian dinars for an unkown amount* of Bulgarian whatever-they-use. All I know is I now have 5 currencies in my wallet, and it is becoming quite crowded.
*At least in Thailand I made an attempt to judge how much things cost. I've kinda given up. Oh, 2 marks for the slice of pizza? Yeah, cool, I can do that.
I then found my chosen hostel, Hostel Mostel. Definately the sketchiest entrance I've seen on any trip, but very nice once you pass through the courtyard. Got oriented and got directions. Their instructions for how to climb Mount Vitosha differed slightly from my guidebook, but I wasn't too worried. I then tried to find food, and failed to track down either of the 2 resteraunts they recommended. Should have noticed the bad omen. As it was 11 (or maybe noon. I didn't catch that we had shifted time zones until around 2. I just assumed the buses were posting the wrong times, as the buses in Serbian, despite being on time, had blatantly incorrect clocks), I just grabbed a cheap slice of pizza (nothing special, but I'm liking my Balkan pizza so far. I think it is a slightly different type of cheese rather than dough or sauce, but I'll believ whatever you tell me) and then some bread and brie in homage to my travels with Juile last year.
I take the tram (trolley?) to its last stop. I get out at the base of Mt Vitosha expecting to find bus #61*. No dice. Walk over to a lady at a kiosk. She speaks some English, but not enough, so waves another lady over. She speaks more English and seems to understand my problem, but not enough English to give a solution. Lady #1 writes some stuff on a sheet of paper in Bulgarian with 2 bus numbers on it. Lady #2 puts me on bus #82, after first addressing the bus driver (confused) and the passengers. I ride the bus for the number of stops I think I want, and try to get off. An older lady stops me, and has me wait on the bus.**
*Never did find that bastard. At least bus#93 had some signs hinting at its existence.
**It just dawned on me. Bulgarians reverse the head-nod and headshake. Serious. This may have complicated things during the trip. Damn.
The lady eventually has me sit next to her. We ride 82 for a long time, to where me now thinks is the other (wrong) side of town. We get out, somewhere. Lady is confused, talks to a guy in a kiosk. After awhile, I am told I am to catch #92 and take it to the final stop. It appears that 92 is an express, as it only has ~8 stops listed. But it also appears 92 comes only once an hour. "Very rarely," as a Bulgarian tween tells me in English. Old lady leaves, saying lots of things in Bulgarian. I buy OJ and gum (both excellent purchases; foriegn gum is esp hit and miss b/c you can't trust the brand names to taste the same). I wait. Read SI on my kindle. Wait. Read. Wait.
An hour passes. After 1.15, I give up an catch an #82 it what I thought was the opposite direction. Ride a really long time. Recognize nothing*. Get off at last stop. Walk over to a tram. It's the 11 and 12; tram map is unitelligible**. I guess (correctly!) which way is back to city center. I get off after a few stops as a busy road. I ask a man which trolley to the city center. With minimal confidence, he says #11. I give up and flag a taxi. Amazingly, the words "city center" and the 5 landmarks I point to on my map provide no recognition. Eventually, he recognizes Aleksandur Nevsky Cathedral, this big big big Cathedral nominally in the historical center. About 5 minutes into the drive, we pass the bus station. Yelling at the confused driver to pull over, I pay him the 3 lev I owe, and blowing off steam I walk back to the city center.
*Specifically, recognize a lot. Look kids, there's another nodescript communist apartment block!
**Infuriatingly, the problem was graffeti and too small font, not the cyrillic alphabet as per the usual.
Checked out the City Art Gallery. Cool concept - had 40 odd art critics pick 1 work each from the musuem's collection and write a blurb on why they thought that work was the most important in the collection for Bulgarian art history (no repeats). Resulted in a broad selection of work, and I enjoyed reading most of the write ups and thinking of Lauren H my art history major friend. Interesting to see that art after 1945 wasn't all that different behind the Iron Curtain. Unfortunately, that meant that everything after around 1970 was crap. I was hoping that at least the grumpy commies would call out modern art for being, you know, not good. Or art.* And man, upstairs they had a few contemporary works, and those were just weird.**
*No, we are not debating what art it. But a video of casual sex is not art. Nor are a line of colored boxes, even if you call it "Circle." Come on, people.
**Weird - a (tilted) laptop that is simply generating new pages on a word document. Called, "the generator." Weirder - an upsidedown kayak you were supposed to stick your head into and interact with. Weirdest - a bed frame with springs that you, the viewer, stand up and jump up and down on. The faster you jump, the slower the projection of your image on a screen moves. Wave your arms about, and you image switches between being large and small. Got it? Yeah, me neither.
Day ends with a success! Quality (free) tour of Sofia, with a super nice old Belgian lady who travels solo b/c her husband doesn't like traveling (she was spending 3 weeks in Bulgaria before returning to work. Iran(*1) had been her previous destination) and a lady from Mongolian (new country for AJ!!! Did you know they use Cryllic there also? I was the only one in the group that couldn't read cryllic. American fail(*2)). Tour was very interesting, I learned a lot of history(*3) and culture, but won't bore you here.
*
Sofia, Sofia, you play with my heart. Promising start, miserable failure in the middle, great invigorating evening, and a night spent in eating my loses.
Sofia (from the Greek word for wisdom, but w/ the accent on the O) should host a winter Olympics. She could use the investment, is so close to being a beautiful European city, and has the closest ski resorts of any major European capital, Mount Vitosha [Or at least they claim to be. I tried to verify this and failed]
Upon being awoken in the Sofia bus station, I groggily walked over to the train station and exchanged 1,500 Serbian dinars for an unkown amount* of Bulgarian whatever-they-use. All I know is I now have 5 currencies in my wallet, and it is becoming quite crowded.
*At least in Thailand I made an attempt to judge how much things cost. I've kinda given up. Oh, 2 marks for the slice of pizza? Yeah, cool, I can do that.
I then found my chosen hostel, Hostel Mostel. Definately the sketchiest entrance I've seen on any trip, but very nice once you pass through the courtyard. Got oriented and got directions. Their instructions for how to climb Mount Vitosha differed slightly from my guidebook, but I wasn't too worried. I then tried to find food, and failed to track down either of the 2 resteraunts they recommended. Should have noticed the bad omen. As it was 11 (or maybe noon. I didn't catch that we had shifted time zones until around 2. I just assumed the buses were posting the wrong times, as the buses in Serbian, despite being on time, had blatantly incorrect clocks), I just grabbed a cheap slice of pizza (nothing special, but I'm liking my Balkan pizza so far. I think it is a slightly different type of cheese rather than dough or sauce, but I'll believ whatever you tell me) and then some bread and brie in homage to my travels with Juile last year.
I take the tram (trolley?) to its last stop. I get out at the base of Mt Vitosha expecting to find bus #61*. No dice. Walk over to a lady at a kiosk. She speaks some English, but not enough, so waves another lady over. She speaks more English and seems to understand my problem, but not enough English to give a solution. Lady #1 writes some stuff on a sheet of paper in Bulgarian with 2 bus numbers on it. Lady #2 puts me on bus #82, after first addressing the bus driver (confused) and the passengers. I ride the bus for the number of stops I think I want, and try to get off. An older lady stops me, and has me wait on the bus.**
*Never did find that bastard. At least bus#93 had some signs hinting at its existence.
**It just dawned on me. Bulgarians reverse the head-nod and headshake. Serious. This may have complicated things during the trip. Damn.
The lady eventually has me sit next to her. We ride 82 for a long time, to where me now thinks is the other (wrong) side of town. We get out, somewhere. Lady is confused, talks to a guy in a kiosk. After awhile, I am told I am to catch #92 and take it to the final stop. It appears that 92 is an express, as it only has ~8 stops listed. But it also appears 92 comes only once an hour. "Very rarely," as a Bulgarian tween tells me in English. Old lady leaves, saying lots of things in Bulgarian. I buy OJ and gum (both excellent purchases; foriegn gum is esp hit and miss b/c you can't trust the brand names to taste the same). I wait. Read SI on my kindle. Wait. Read. Wait.
An hour passes. After 1.15, I give up an catch an #82 it what I thought was the opposite direction. Ride a really long time. Recognize nothing*. Get off at last stop. Walk over to a tram. It's the 11 and 12; tram map is unitelligible**. I guess (correctly!) which way is back to city center. I get off after a few stops as a busy road. I ask a man which trolley to the city center. With minimal confidence, he says #11. I give up and flag a taxi. Amazingly, the words "city center" and the 5 landmarks I point to on my map provide no recognition. Eventually, he recognizes Aleksandur Nevsky Cathedral, this big big big Cathedral nominally in the historical center. About 5 minutes into the drive, we pass the bus station. Yelling at the confused driver to pull over, I pay him the 3 lev I owe, and blowing off steam I walk back to the city center.
*Specifically, recognize a lot. Look kids, there's another nodescript communist apartment block!
**Infuriatingly, the problem was graffeti and too small font, not the cyrillic alphabet as per the usual.
Checked out the City Art Gallery. Cool concept - had 40 odd art critics pick 1 work each from the musuem's collection and write a blurb on why they thought that work was the most important in the collection for Bulgarian art history (no repeats). Resulted in a broad selection of work, and I enjoyed reading most of the write ups and thinking of Lauren H my art history major friend. Interesting to see that art after 1945 wasn't all that different behind the Iron Curtain. Unfortunately, that meant that everything after around 1970 was crap. I was hoping that at least the grumpy commies would call out modern art for being, you know, not good. Or art.* And man, upstairs they had a few contemporary works, and those were just weird.**
*No, we are not debating what art it. But a video of casual sex is not art. Nor are a line of colored boxes, even if you call it "Circle." Come on, people.
**Weird - a (tilted) laptop that is simply generating new pages on a word document. Called, "the generator." Weirder - an upsidedown kayak you were supposed to stick your head into and interact with. Weirdest - a bed frame with springs that you, the viewer, stand up and jump up and down on. The faster you jump, the slower the projection of your image on a screen moves. Wave your arms about, and you image switches between being large and small. Got it? Yeah, me neither.
Day ends with a success! Quality (free) tour of Sofia, with a super nice old Belgian lady who travels solo b/c her husband doesn't like traveling (she was spending 3 weeks in Bulgaria before returning to work. Iran(*1) had been her previous destination) and a lady from Mongolian (new country for AJ!!! Did you know they use Cryllic there also? I was the only one in the group that couldn't read cryllic. American fail(*2)). Tour was very interesting, I learned a lot of history(*3) and culture, but won't bore you here.
*
1. I told my guide that the Bulgarians did a better job w/ street sides than the Bosnians. She said that the Bulgarians drive better than the Iranian. Our guide pointed out that neither of these were all that commendable.
2. Even the Candanian from Saskatchewan(*4) in the Sarajevo hostel IDed as an American within 1 sentence.
3. For example, some Roman emperor I had never heard of issued an Edict I had never heard of that beat the Edict of Milan by 2 years, legalizing Christianity in the part of the Empire he rule. But he died and Emperor Constantine still has the cooler name.
4. Yes, people live there.
The night ends with me eating for dinner the bread and cheese that was supposed to be my lunch, reading NY Times editorials and the Indystar analysis of the George Hill trade. All and all, a workable day, and much better than the disaster of a day I think my sister suffered in Cinque Terre yesterday.
Tomorrow, go into all the good buildings on the walking tour that were closed last night, and then midday (not ideal, but I don't think I can do better) bus to Plovdiv. Night in the Plov, and overnight train to Istanbul. Chapter 2, the Balkans, is almost to a close.
2. Even the Candanian from Saskatchewan(*4) in the Sarajevo hostel IDed as an American within 1 sentence.
3. For example, some Roman emperor I had never heard of issued an Edict I had never heard of that beat the Edict of Milan by 2 years, legalizing Christianity in the part of the Empire he rule. But he died and Emperor Constantine still has the cooler name.
4. Yes, people live there.
The night ends with me eating for dinner the bread and cheese that was supposed to be my lunch, reading NY Times editorials and the Indystar analysis of the George Hill trade. All and all, a workable day, and much better than the disaster of a day I think my sister suffered in Cinque Terre yesterday.
Tomorrow, go into all the good buildings on the walking tour that were closed last night, and then midday (not ideal, but I don't think I can do better) bus to Plovdiv. Night in the Plov, and overnight train to Istanbul. Chapter 2, the Balkans, is almost to a close.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Nis
So only spent thiry minutes here, as both my bus were actually on time (the 8 hour ride includes over an hour of bidgrtrf stops and arrived at401. Well done). But I tollay conversed with the bus driver twice in Italian. He may have beem speaking spanish. Unsure, pretty groggy now. But those who have traveled with me know that I relexively respond to all foreign languages in italian/spanish. It paid off this time as we established in brief italian that my driver speaks no english.
430am, serbia. Dawn is breaking. We drive towards green mountains crowned by pink clouds
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Sarajevo, Bosnia
Bosnia is a very interesting place because of the war in 1992-95, and my trip to Sarajevo was very simillar to my time in Northern Ireland, where most of my time was spent learning about the recent conflict from people who remember the conflict. I find this a very rewarding and responsible way to spend my traveling time.
The main divisions are Serbs, Croats, and Muslims, I found it increddibly interesting that's the way it is decided, 2 races and a religion. And there used to be large Jewish population that came from Spain in 1492 but they either died in WWII or left soon after for Palestine. There are also a decent number of Roman Catholics, and I went to evening Mass on Sunday at the cathedral.
After getting oriented and taking a morning nap, I grabbed a delicious lunch (I'm going to like Turkish food), and went on a tunnel tour.
Tunnel (¨tunel¨) tour - trip out to a small farm house in the suburbs that was the entrance to a tiny tunnel under the airport (where the UN sat) that kept the people alive and fighting inside the city. My guide was born in the war hospital in 1993, in Sarajevo in the middle of the siege. He hates the 'Serbian Fascists,' and while he is careful to point out that his vitriol is directed at only the fascists, he believes that currently 90% of modern Serbian still supports the Fascists. He also has nothing but negative things to say about the UN and their complete ineptitude in preventing the slaughter in Bosnia. He was a good guide, but his views were clearly biased, and it would have been nice to hear a Serbian perspective, or at least a 3rd party view, as he placed all the blame on the fasicsts and their goal of a Greater Serbia and a '3rd Riecht' of the Balkans.
I followed this up with a free walking tour. Same guide, so got to listen to his lecturing again, but also joining me were an older couple, the man was British and the woman was Austrian, who were both converts to Islam, and it was very interesting talking to them during the entire 2 hour tour. They talked about about the various forms of Islam, and how they like the Bosnian tradition, which takes after strongly from Turkish Islam, and is far more relaxed than Arab Islam. The highlight of the tour was being let into one of the Mosques and climbing the very narrow spiral staircase up the minaret for view of the city.
After Mass I grabbed a solo dinner and headed back to the hostel, and stayed up until 2am playing cards and hanging out with the fellow travelers.
I ended up decided that I wasn't going to be able to squeeze in a trip to Mostar, despite the fact that everyone I talked to had been to Mostar. But if you are coming to or from the Dalmatian Coast, it is the most logical stopping point on the way to Sarajevo, and with coming from Prijepolje and heading to Sofia next, I do have a highly irregular travel schedule.
And with this irregularity, I am in for a long bus ride. In Serbia the transportation network is set up with Belgrade as the hub, and I really don't want to go back through Belgrade, so I'm taking the token night bus out of Sarajevo to Nis, Serbia, and then a rather short 2 hr bus ride on to Sofia. It would have been nice to spend more time in Bosnia, but that's simply not the schedule that I have.
The main divisions are Serbs, Croats, and Muslims, I found it increddibly interesting that's the way it is decided, 2 races and a religion. And there used to be large Jewish population that came from Spain in 1492 but they either died in WWII or left soon after for Palestine. There are also a decent number of Roman Catholics, and I went to evening Mass on Sunday at the cathedral.
After getting oriented and taking a morning nap, I grabbed a delicious lunch (I'm going to like Turkish food), and went on a tunnel tour.
Tunnel (¨tunel¨) tour - trip out to a small farm house in the suburbs that was the entrance to a tiny tunnel under the airport (where the UN sat) that kept the people alive and fighting inside the city. My guide was born in the war hospital in 1993, in Sarajevo in the middle of the siege. He hates the 'Serbian Fascists,' and while he is careful to point out that his vitriol is directed at only the fascists, he believes that currently 90% of modern Serbian still supports the Fascists. He also has nothing but negative things to say about the UN and their complete ineptitude in preventing the slaughter in Bosnia. He was a good guide, but his views were clearly biased, and it would have been nice to hear a Serbian perspective, or at least a 3rd party view, as he placed all the blame on the fasicsts and their goal of a Greater Serbia and a '3rd Riecht' of the Balkans.
I followed this up with a free walking tour. Same guide, so got to listen to his lecturing again, but also joining me were an older couple, the man was British and the woman was Austrian, who were both converts to Islam, and it was very interesting talking to them during the entire 2 hour tour. They talked about about the various forms of Islam, and how they like the Bosnian tradition, which takes after strongly from Turkish Islam, and is far more relaxed than Arab Islam. The highlight of the tour was being let into one of the Mosques and climbing the very narrow spiral staircase up the minaret for view of the city.
After Mass I grabbed a solo dinner and headed back to the hostel, and stayed up until 2am playing cards and hanging out with the fellow travelers.
I ended up decided that I wasn't going to be able to squeeze in a trip to Mostar, despite the fact that everyone I talked to had been to Mostar. But if you are coming to or from the Dalmatian Coast, it is the most logical stopping point on the way to Sarajevo, and with coming from Prijepolje and heading to Sofia next, I do have a highly irregular travel schedule.
And with this irregularity, I am in for a long bus ride. In Serbia the transportation network is set up with Belgrade as the hub, and I really don't want to go back through Belgrade, so I'm taking the token night bus out of Sarajevo to Nis, Serbia, and then a rather short 2 hr bus ride on to Sofia. It would have been nice to spend more time in Bosnia, but that's simply not the schedule that I have.
Taxi ride to end all taxi rides
My regular readers will know that crazy taxi drivers and violent driving are a common staple of this blog. My ride from Prijepolje to Sarajevo may have been wildest and most rewarding yet.
So after raging until 2am, I was woken up at 5am to catch the taxi to Saravejo. It is a common route but not busy enough for buses (nor are buses really able to handle the trek, as I soon discovered), so some taxis run a set route, hence the super early time. Edo's mom gave me breakfast (good tea!) and packed me food for the journey, and I was off. It was myself and and a man along with the driver, and they both definitely spoke no English, so I was planning on snoozing the entire ride.
Nope. My beaten body and stomach combine with the narrowing winding road and the general ignoring of speed limits (and stop signs. We pasted like 5 or 6, didn't stop at a single one. They were treated as yield signs) meant that AJ was not going to sleep. While it probably wasn't as bad as Anna's trip from Poi Pet to Bangkok, it was pretty miserable for the first hour and I was very worried about losing my breakfast on the roller coaster ride. At some point we stopped for coffee, and I had my first Turkish style coffee, which is nice and strong. The coffee gave me enough to rally (note my headache/hangover didn't really show until 11am, after I arrived), and I was much more awake for the rest of the trip.
I spent the rest of the trip glued to the window. This was partially to take in the stunning views, but mostly it is because everyone needs to hold on the car so they are not flung across the car (seatbelts? Ha!). We picked up an elderly couple, who looked exactly as you would expect an elderly Balkan couple to look, and so for the rest of the ride, the 4 men held tight to their steering wheel handle*, and the lady sat in the middle with her purse on her lap and swayed back and forth.
*The handle that supposed to be used to help you get in and out of the car. What is it called?
The views were stunning. We followed several rivers pretty much the entire way, including cruising for an hour up (down?) a gorge (over the Dirna river?) in a drive that would have put the Going to the Sun road to shame. The road was constantly weaving in and out of the mountain side through really short (10-30m) tunnels. At one point the gorge got really narrow, and we popped into the mountain on the right side, emerged from the tunnel and immediately entered the mountain on the left side. I would assume that at some point we crossed the river but it was nowhere to be seen.
Saravejo was great, but I the taxi ride was the highlight of the day
So after raging until 2am, I was woken up at 5am to catch the taxi to Saravejo. It is a common route but not busy enough for buses (nor are buses really able to handle the trek, as I soon discovered), so some taxis run a set route, hence the super early time. Edo's mom gave me breakfast (good tea!) and packed me food for the journey, and I was off. It was myself and and a man along with the driver, and they both definitely spoke no English, so I was planning on snoozing the entire ride.
Nope. My beaten body and stomach combine with the narrowing winding road and the general ignoring of speed limits (and stop signs. We pasted like 5 or 6, didn't stop at a single one. They were treated as yield signs) meant that AJ was not going to sleep. While it probably wasn't as bad as Anna's trip from Poi Pet to Bangkok, it was pretty miserable for the first hour and I was very worried about losing my breakfast on the roller coaster ride. At some point we stopped for coffee, and I had my first Turkish style coffee, which is nice and strong. The coffee gave me enough to rally (note my headache/hangover didn't really show until 11am, after I arrived), and I was much more awake for the rest of the trip.
I spent the rest of the trip glued to the window. This was partially to take in the stunning views, but mostly it is because everyone needs to hold on the car so they are not flung across the car (seatbelts? Ha!). We picked up an elderly couple, who looked exactly as you would expect an elderly Balkan couple to look, and so for the rest of the ride, the 4 men held tight to their steering wheel handle*, and the lady sat in the middle with her purse on her lap and swayed back and forth.
*The handle that supposed to be used to help you get in and out of the car. What is it called?
The views were stunning. We followed several rivers pretty much the entire way, including cruising for an hour up (down?) a gorge (over the Dirna river?) in a drive that would have put the Going to the Sun road to shame. The road was constantly weaving in and out of the mountain side through really short (10-30m) tunnels. At one point the gorge got really narrow, and we popped into the mountain on the right side, emerged from the tunnel and immediately entered the mountain on the left side. I would assume that at some point we crossed the river but it was nowhere to be seen.
Saravejo was great, but I the taxi ride was the highlight of the day
Prijepolje, Serbia
Last spring, while killing time in Ireland waiting for St Patrick's day, I spent a few days exploring northern Ireland. See http://ajmcgauley.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-travels.html
While staying 2 days in Derry, I befriended a Serbian, Edo. Edo and I stayed in touch via Facebook over the past year, and when I told him I was likely to be spending a week in the Balkans, he invited me down to his hometown, Prijepolje. So after flying into Belgrade on Friday, I caught an bus Saturday morning to Prijepolje. Or two buses, as it turned out. I watched some nice rolling farmland and immediately conked out the entire ride and woke up in Užice in the mountains and everyone got off the bus. I quickly discovered that 1. southern Serbia is very mountainous, 2. It was really cold. The helpful driver had me switch buses (it was 1 ticket, but here we switched to a smaller bus as most of the crowd, including my pretty seatmate, departed). Another sleeping bus ride, and then the few of us all got off at this rather small busride. The locals quickly scattered, and I politely declined a taxi driver and waited for Edo's friends to come, as promised. As every car came to the station, I looked expectantly, but everyone was coming for the bus. After around 30 minutes, the bus departed. There were a few people milling about, but noone paid me any attention.
I wandered into the bathroom. It was in rough shape, but no worse than a really bad gas station restroom in the States. I stepped up to the urinal to do my business, and promptly felt 'water' splashing against my ankle. Quickly stopping, I look under the urinal - no pipe. Just a piece of ceramic attached to the wall with a hole in the middle. Huh. Check the urinal next over. Yep, it has proper plumbing. So I slide over and finish my business, having learned my lesson to check to make sure that all my toilets are, well, fully assembled.
I continue waiting. My instructions from Edo read as follows
Enjoy Prijepolje,
Edo
OK, I'm looking for 2 guys named Hacker and Kali. Otherwise, look for the afro. Can't go wrong, right?
Eventually a Serbian lady tries to ask me a question, in Serbian. My response in English attracts the attention of 2 college-age guys who had recently arrived. They walk up and say, 'AJ?' These guys were great hosts, but with my Nike* running shirt and bright red backpack I kind of stand out. Or maybe I blend in better than I think. I was walking through the hills above Saravejo today by myself, and someone in a car tried to ask me for directions
*In the States, we butcher the pronunciation of adidas. In Serbia, Nike is 'neek'
Zed, Edo's father (the one with the afro) arrived soon after, and we walked on foot to the Sadikovic's apartment. Prijepolje is a small city, around 15,000 in the city proper, but it is a very pretty city situated in a valley at the merging of two rivers. From what I understood, Zed is the town 'horticulturist' which means he is responsible for maintaining all the public spaces, and as we walked to his apartment we kept stopping and talking to people, and Admir explained that they were giving Zed work requests, as they had a tree that needed trimmed, or a rock that needed moved, and so forth. Apparently this is what keeps Zed busy.
At the apartment we met Mama Sadikovic and Armina*, and the men sat and had lunch while the women stood and waited. I had eaten while waiting for Edo (ordered 'hamburger' off the menu), but felt obliged to eat all the delilcious food they put in front of me. And delicious it was! Baked rice with lamb, pastries with cheese, sliced vegetables, and some cookie like desert. Nom nom nom nom.
*Who was always referred to as Edo's sister, but is actually Edo's cousin. I think.
After stuffing myself silly Zed, Admir, the other guy (whose name escapes me) and I headed out of the city on a little tractory that you see at the state fair. It runs from city center up to a monastery above the city, maybe 10 minutes away. We headed back to the city, Zed went home, and I went to the city cultural center (basically the town hall / city-county building), where we went up to Admir's office to wait as Admir had to prepare for a meeting.
Meeting at cultural center. Brits Oliver and Sarah
Drinks.
Dinner. Trip planning with Armina and google translate.
Drinks.
I'll finish the rest of this post later, I need to go catch my bus.
rb
While staying 2 days in Derry, I befriended a Serbian, Edo. Edo and I stayed in touch via Facebook over the past year, and when I told him I was likely to be spending a week in the Balkans, he invited me down to his hometown, Prijepolje. So after flying into Belgrade on Friday, I caught an bus Saturday morning to Prijepolje. Or two buses, as it turned out. I watched some nice rolling farmland and immediately conked out the entire ride and woke up in Užice in the mountains and everyone got off the bus. I quickly discovered that 1. southern Serbia is very mountainous, 2. It was really cold. The helpful driver had me switch buses (it was 1 ticket, but here we switched to a smaller bus as most of the crowd, including my pretty seatmate, departed). Another sleeping bus ride, and then the few of us all got off at this rather small busride. The locals quickly scattered, and I politely declined a taxi driver and waited for Edo's friends to come, as promised. As every car came to the station, I looked expectantly, but everyone was coming for the bus. After around 30 minutes, the bus departed. There were a few people milling about, but noone paid me any attention.
I wandered into the bathroom. It was in rough shape, but no worse than a really bad gas station restroom in the States. I stepped up to the urinal to do my business, and promptly felt 'water' splashing against my ankle. Quickly stopping, I look under the urinal - no pipe. Just a piece of ceramic attached to the wall with a hole in the middle. Huh. Check the urinal next over. Yep, it has proper plumbing. So I slide over and finish my business, having learned my lesson to check to make sure that all my toilets are, well, fully assembled.
I continue waiting. My instructions from Edo read as follows
I will let know someone to wait for you.
In the worst communication case, my father s name is Mirsad Sadikovic, known as ZEC with afro hair ;) and whole town knows him, so just ask.
And my address is Stadion 9/7 in the building of supermarket which is called Samoposluga.
Any way I will let know my friends to wait you, Hacker and Kali.Enjoy Prijepolje,
Edo
OK, I'm looking for 2 guys named Hacker and Kali. Otherwise, look for the afro. Can't go wrong, right?
Eventually a Serbian lady tries to ask me a question, in Serbian. My response in English attracts the attention of 2 college-age guys who had recently arrived. They walk up and say, 'AJ?' These guys were great hosts, but with my Nike* running shirt and bright red backpack I kind of stand out. Or maybe I blend in better than I think. I was walking through the hills above Saravejo today by myself, and someone in a car tried to ask me for directions
*In the States, we butcher the pronunciation of adidas. In Serbia, Nike is 'neek'
Zed, Edo's father (the one with the afro) arrived soon after, and we walked on foot to the Sadikovic's apartment. Prijepolje is a small city, around 15,000 in the city proper, but it is a very pretty city situated in a valley at the merging of two rivers. From what I understood, Zed is the town 'horticulturist' which means he is responsible for maintaining all the public spaces, and as we walked to his apartment we kept stopping and talking to people, and Admir explained that they were giving Zed work requests, as they had a tree that needed trimmed, or a rock that needed moved, and so forth. Apparently this is what keeps Zed busy.
At the apartment we met Mama Sadikovic and Armina*, and the men sat and had lunch while the women stood and waited. I had eaten while waiting for Edo (ordered 'hamburger' off the menu), but felt obliged to eat all the delilcious food they put in front of me. And delicious it was! Baked rice with lamb, pastries with cheese, sliced vegetables, and some cookie like desert. Nom nom nom nom.
*Who was always referred to as Edo's sister, but is actually Edo's cousin. I think.
After stuffing myself silly Zed, Admir, the other guy (whose name escapes me) and I headed out of the city on a little tractory that you see at the state fair. It runs from city center up to a monastery above the city, maybe 10 minutes away. We headed back to the city, Zed went home, and I went to the city cultural center (basically the town hall / city-county building), where we went up to Admir's office to wait as Admir had to prepare for a meeting.
Meeting at cultural center. Brits Oliver and Sarah
Drinks.
Dinner. Trip planning with Armina and google translate.
Drinks.
I'll finish the rest of this post later, I need to go catch my bus.
rb
Friday, June 24, 2011
Belgrade
On the bus on the way to Prijepolje. The bus just filled up at the second stop, and I was able to move seats to give a guy two sets next to each other, my most success experience yet with a Serb who does not speak Engish. Now sitting next to a girl who speaks enogu english to ask me to put her stuff onthe rack above the seat, but I lost my window seatand therefore prime sleeping position.
My day in Belgrade was very good. Upon arrival the lady at the tourist desk seemed to think my guidebook's airport to city instructions were dumb and had me take the city bus in. That was lenghty but fine, and my hostel was much farther on foot than I expected. When I arrived I got oriented an talked to the guy at the desk for advice,which aside from dinner suggstions(never did have that meal) I followed to great success. When I asked about museums, he looked at me like I was a dork and said they were all bad, closed, or both.
It was nearlt two so first order of business was lunch. I went to a place the hostel recommended and therefore expected some English. Nope. I'm not even sure they could figure out I wanted food because the vaunted Point at Raw Food ordering tehcnique nearly failed,but what else I would have been doing in their small resteraunt I am unclear on. But it all worked out Ok and I got a carry-out pljeskavica, or Serbian for really good hamburger.
I hiked up to Kalemgdan for great views of the city and of the merging of the Danube and Sava. I ate my burger sitting on a crumbling fortress wall. I had a brief chat with an ols Serbian lady in which niether of us knew what the other was saying. I think she wanted to know why I wasnt wearinge sunglasses while sitting towards the sun. Whatever it was, hopefully it was not important. The park was evenly divided amongst young families playing , old men being old (chess etc), and twentysomethings making out. On my way out I filled up my water bottle from a street fountain, which was helpfully labeled H2O on my Serbian map.
I then walked through the old city towards two big Orthodox Temples. Succesfully told someone on the street the day of the week, and had a very excited local explain some icons to me in St Marc's. I really like the feel of Belgrade. Taking the bus in the city first strikingly reminded me of Ljubljana and Zagreb, which makes sense. The overridng adj was gritty, and some parts of the city are just plain ugly, because of communism, decay, or both. But the old town was just lovely. In London, everyone is either in a hurry of loitering. In Belgrade, everyone seemed to srike a happy medium. The streets and parks were packed but everyone was doing something, if only chatting, and seemed to be enjoying the great weather outdoors.
After St Sava, I bought my bus ticket for 1145 Dinars, or $16. Back to the hostel at dusk, and talked politics with some Swedish dudes, basketball with the Serbian on duty, and traveling with the English girls in my room. Also caught up on the draft( strongly approve of he george hill trade), prepped for my sisters arrival, discovered my guidebook does not include Bosnia, and generally stayed up too late.
Now to check out the beautiful countryside and sleep.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
London
Happy belated birthday to Sam, who hopefully had a good night in her new city.
I arrived in Heathrow yesterday. My Virgin Atlantic flight was delayed for nearly two hours. I'm not sure wht the original problem was, but eventually they had to switch planes and move all of the checked luggage from one plane to the other.
Tylenol PM was a fail, as I took it when I expected the plane to leave but was instead really drowsy for an hour as we waited to leave with full lights on and a really cold cabin. I slept maybe half the flight and only five hours last night. I dont feel that bad but I might just be shifting into a perpetual state of exhaustion, as my friends at Tim' wedding last weekend said I looked perpetually tired. But last night I slept without waking, a sharp improvement over my Asian sleeping habits. I did wake up with a start at 0406this morning, right before my alarm went off. Why an 8am flight as ever a good idea is beyond me (it might have been the only direct to Belgrade this day)
I arrived in London proper around 1300 and headed to the hostel I had picked out. They were booked full, andhostelworld was telling me there are no hostel avaliable for June 23. Hmm. So I said screw that and went to Westminster Abbey with my full pack. I had been to the Abbey over a decade ago with my family, but iy was the one London landmark I wanted to revisit. It was as good as I remembered, and I was able to join in on a small prayer service in front of St Edward the confessor (that's the space behind the altar where the new royal couple signed the registry, for those who watched*)
*No, I did not. The guides were keen to point out key locations
I headed to near Kings cross and St Pancras for easy departure thi morning. Struck out at another hostel, but was pointed to another possibilty. There I was first tol thy were full,but with the help of a slightly hyperbolized story and a rain starting to pick up outside, the girl at the desk took pity on me a found me a room.
I squeexed in a late visit to the national portriat gallery, which was nice and meshed well wit my trip to the Abbey. It wa aso free. My room last nigth was over forty dollars! Not in Thailand any more, AJ. I have been in sticker shock since I took my friend Genevieve out to eat while in Chicago and dropped the equivalent of ten days lodging in Cambodia.
To Serbia! Have a hostel prebookd this time.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Ayutthaya, and the day I spent running around Bangkok
Ah yes, this day.
I believe this is the day my blog skipped,so with a hazy memory and a lot of downtime in OHare with a delayed flight, let us begin.
We arrived in the south train station really early. This was probably the only morning of the trip when Sam was more perky than Anna right after wake up. Since Anna's appetite had kicked in at this point on the trip, the first order of business was breakfast, but I think we gave up after an unsuccessful wanderabout.
Taxi to the US Embassy (it was either here or with the mototaxi I took later where i had to resort to the guidebook dictionary and point to embassy in Thai). Arrived right as it opened, and spent about an hour navigating beaucracy. Had to run out to get photos taken of me, at which point Sam and Anna fed themselves. I was so busy I made it all the way to dinner surviving on a bag of sugary popcorn i had purchased the privious night before the train.
By ten we had established that I was going to have a passport by one that day, but would then have to deal with Thai immigration. Not wanting to inconvience the girls further (and worried Anna would snap and kill me on the spot), we agreed to split ways. We taxied together to the N bus station with the expectation of finding a hostel for easy exit the next day to Cambodia.
No hostels at the bus station. Quick powwow determines the girls will leave now for Ayutthaya, and Ill head back to the city to find a hostel and emal the the
name. The girls buy their tickets and BAM they are wooshed away by some very hurried Thai men. We shall return to them later.
I take some time to compose myself and leaf through the guide book. I pick Siam Square has the site of our intended hostel, and sally forth to do battle with Bangkok mass transit. Taxi are pretty cheap group travel because they do not charge per person, but since I was traveling solo I wanted a new experience.
Things started off poorly, as the public citybus station was difficult to find in the massive spwarl of long distant buses and private vans. Eventually i found my bus. Thai buses have two people, one driver and one ticket person, but were otherwise no different. I paid an unknown fare to the nice ticket lady (i think just a few Baht but i didnt bother to count themess of chang she gave me after i paid with a hundred bill), and either i spoke enough Thai or she understood my butchery of her beautiul language enough so that she old me which stop to get off at. I tranfered to the skytrain, Bangkok's brand new elevated rail, took it to the hostel, and checked out a room.
I then made the short walk to Jim Thompson's house, checked it out for an hour, and flagged down a motorcycle to them embassy. As I weave through the streets of Bangkok clutching the back of a motorcycle, let us return to the girls.
When the girls bought their ticket, Sam noticed the clerk hand cash to a thai man standing there right as the girls stepped away from the desk. That man immediately began rushing the girls to their 'bus'. They siad godbye to me and soon found themselves being herded onto a large van. Hmm. The man barked at some thai to move to give the girls good seats. At some point they started moving, but often the bus would stop, the man would jump out, and herd more people into the bus, which soon became preposterously crowded. Anna and Sam began to wonder if they would ever make it.
But fear not,through the aggressive driving f thier van they ended up making it in roughly the amount of timw the legit bus they took back that evening. So they hopped out and began marching in the heat with full packs. I was not there but the girls would like to stress how HOT it was. After a ruin or two (ayutthaya is an old capital) they staggered into hostel, where they dropped their packs and rented bikes for the rest of the day. They checked out some more ruins, sweated away their body weight, checked email for my message, jotted down the address, and caught a bus back to Bangkok.
At this point your dear narrator has his temp passport and is in a taxi in search of "Government Building B." I had directions in thai that the embassy gave me,but after an hour of working north,my cab driver became increasingly concerned, as we were clearly in new territory for him. Around the old airport we began to encounter some enormous official looking office buildings. A few other taxi drivers, bystanders, and security guards later, we found my building. Inside I navigated beaucracy again, which took time but was refreshing professional and impressivly complex.
I taxi, skytrain,and subway to chinatown. I exlore that and feed myself (birds nest soup with great tea, and the china town equivalent of pigs in a blanket), and get caught in a rainstorm. I make it back to the hostel after dark to meet up with exhuasted Anna and Sam, who had only written down my address and ignored my excellent directions, and required the assistance of 25 taxi drivers and one friendly bystander to find the hostel.
That was the day. my flight is still delayed, but my wrist hurts now so this is all she wrote
End of Chapter
Dear Readers,
I may put up one more post on Thailand, for a day that I missed, and check back in later when I'll have a link for you to our photos, which Anna has been generously working on pulling together.
But I'll be switching now to the next leg of trip, Europe. So to all of Sam's and Anna's family and friends - thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to keep following.
And for the rest of you, stay tuned. I fly out of O'Hare in 5 hours. Currently trying to decide if I will book a hostel now or just wing it when I get there.
Cheers,
AJ
Friday, June 17, 2011
Angkor
This post was written after we returned to the states.
Angkor Archeaological Park encompasses a sprawling area that was the heart of the ancient Khmer empire. Angkor Wat is the jewel of the park but it merely the largest of dozens of temples and other ruins left by the Khmers. Angkor Wat was maintained by Buddhist monks after the fall of the Khmers, but other temples are in various states of disrepair. Most were entirely swallowed by the jungle,but in the twentieth century the jungle was peeled away and many of the ruins were reconstructed using anastylosis, which is a process that basically involves tearing down a temple and then rebuilding it using mostly original pieces.
The breathtaking pictures of Angkor Wat you often see require a bit of elevation or really good lighting. In person it was like the Grand Canyon- very cool to see but not as impressive as the postcards. I like several of the temples we saw on the second day better, though that may have been more because we were able explore those at our own pace.
For the first day, we rented a guide and a tuk tuk and checked out the biggest and most famous of the temples - Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, and Bayon, Baphoun, and the Royal Palace inside of Angkor Thom. Angkor Thom is much bigger than Angkor Wat, but it's technically a city with mutiple temples, whereas Angkor Wat is a single temple, designed and built in one burst.
Our guide was good; he was a really short 27 year old, and he spoke decent English. He gave us oodles of information, but we moved pretty slowly through the temples. It would be like going through an art museum and being about everything. Sometimes you want to just wander quickly through and check out only the prettiest pictures.
On the second day, we rented bikes. Sam and I paid $2 each for the whole, while Anna splurge and spent $3, which she got extra perks like functioning brakes and gears. Sam's bike didn't really have brakes, and my bike was never able to shift gears; it also had only 1 and 1/2 pedals. But bikes were a great way to navigate the park. It's only 7km from the north side of Siem Reap to the entrance to park; you pedal furiously to minimize the amount of time on the busy roads, but especially in the afternoon (and especially in the monsoon) we nearly had some of the more distant ruins to ourselves.
We started at Banteay Kdei and Srah Srang, an artificial reservoir that is still full of water. My strongest memory of Angkor might be sitting on the stone remains of the pier, looking out on Srah Srang and the jungle beyond it, as 4 rambunctious Cambodian boys played next to me, pushing each other into the water. Also at Srah Srang we chatted with some little Cambodian girls - like every ruin, they are running around trying to sell you cold water, postcards, ornaments, and other trinkets. These ones spoke pretty good English, so we humored them and bought water from them. My girl, I think she called herself "cherry," started out:
Cherry: "Hello! Where you from?"
AJ: "America"
Cherry: "Oh, America! Capital Washington DC. Biggest city New York!"
They are well trained, I'll give them that. They also had some gems. When Anna refused to buy water from her girl upon exiting the temple, after brushing her away with a "maybe" twenty minutes before, she said, "You not like other Americans. You no keep your word!" and ran over to Sam and said, "Your friend not very nice"
We biked over to Pre Rup, and then biked out to Banteay Samre, the farthest temple on our agenda. It was a good 5 km east of everything else, but we somehow missed the turnoff and went a good klick too far. Amazingly, I was able to use the map on the inside of my Ancient Angkor book I had purchased to ID a hill and river to figure out where we were. We found it, and biked back to Pre Rup for lunch at a touristy place (only place we could guarantee vegetarian food for Sam). If I remember correctly, we then jogged up to East Mebon, and then it started to rain so we scratched Preah Khan and backtracked to see Ta Keo and Ta Nei. En route the rain transitioned to Monsoon, and with the wind whipping up off of Srah Srang we sought shelter in another restaurant, where we ran into our guide from the day before, at the head of a group of 26 Canadians. We waited out the rain, had banana smoothies and sticky rice with Mango (hey, why not?), and then hot tea b/c we were soaked and were getting cold.
Eventually the rain slackened and briefly lulled, so we headed back out to Ta Keo. Ta Nei was supposed to be a "nice jungle walk" away, and Anna had her mind set of giving it a try, so we followed what we thought was the correct walk; after a good 30 minutes of walking Anna enthusiasm disappeared, but I was insistent on find this temple because we were so committed. We encountered a few crossroads, so I would run ahead to investigate, with the curving jungle road either petering out or ending in a sketchy clearing (one of them looked like a lumber mill...). But on the last possible run Sam and Anna were going to allow me on, we found it! Triumph.
We backed back through Angkor Thom and by Angkor Wat and arrived back around dusk.
Went to a dinner w/ a free traditional show. We went out to the oldest pub in the hip area of Siem Reap, "Angkor What?", where I mistakenly ordered a pitcher of some girly mixed drink instead of a pitcher of the beer I wanted.
On day 3, we rented a car and driver for $45 and drove out to Beng Mealea and Banteay Srei, 2 ruins far from central Angkor. They were much farther than we expected, but were cool to see. Beng Mealea was super ruined, and we paid a local $5 to show us how to walk around the ruins without killing ourselves on unstable rocks. At one point I nearly walked through a huge web across a doorway, in which case I think our large spider friend would have bit me and I would have died on the spot, given the size of the spider.
We also visited a Landmine Museum, which was in honor of Aki Ra, a former child soldier and now minesweeper that you may have heard of.
We did a lot of shopping in Siem Reap, and I bought multiple "elephant pants," as we took to callig them. Sam bought similar "fat pants," and Anna bought some fisherman pants. Sam bought a knock-off backpack for her dad, which looked legit except for the fact that the brand name on the backpack cover didn't match the rest of the pack. Oops.
I wore my elephant pants out the last night, when we frequented our favorite sticky rice establishment. On my way over I was heckled by one of the tuk tuk drivers:
You want a tuk tuk? pause Or new pants?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
America
Home.
I have had six meals already on this long day. Anna expects to eat nine by time she goes to bed for good.
Things we are thankful for:
Toilets.
Toilets we can flush. Toilets we can sit on. Toilets that have toilet paper. Toilets that you can put toilet paper into. Bathrooms with soap. And sinks
Water. Tap water.
Feeling like you are not getting scammed constantly. Related, knowing what is going on.
Not being aggressively propositioned by shopekeepers. Or those darn cambodian children Sam was unable to resist.
Being able to order vegetarian. Related, knowing what is in your food. Or what you even ordered.
Not sweating all the time. Related, not being ashamed to be in enclosed spaces with other people. And then having your shower be the highlight of your day.
White shirts that are actually white.
Anna suggests we should mention something about our families. But mostly we are thankful about toilets.
On The Road, Again
In Guangzhou. If we did our math correctly, today is a 38 hour day. We started our day on Bangkok time, and we will end it after flying out of LAX on Pacific time,much later but still June 15th. Then red eyes to our respective homes.
This morning I decide not to visit the Embassy to retrieve my passport. I will be very upset if they simply destroy it,but i didnt have faith in my aility to navigate to the embassy by myself* and make my flight as my margin of error for getting lost was small. This passport has caused me much agnst and i just want to get my hands back on it. Now i must wait for the red tape of the State department run its course.
*To get from our hosel to the ferry involved two back alley shortcuts. and after that it was pretty much all new territory for us. And it is just nerveracking to travel solo with a ticking deadline,instead of the «well we will certainly get there at some point» of backpacking.
Following the advice of some fellow backpackers we tookthe river ferry to a skytrain station, which was a roundabout but senic path, and skytrained to the airport terminal and took the thiry minutes train that wisks you direct to the airport far out of town. We commended ourselves for mastering Bangkok public transit, as we had no mishaps or delays. Except at the counter, where once again China Southern tried to tell Sam there were no seats left, and once again Sam had to get fiesty. Poor girls got the backrow and not a happy flight. I had an empty seat next to me :)
Last night was good. We walked north of Kho San and watched river as the sun set and watched a bunch of old Thai ladies doing their outdoor dance excercise class. We tied to hit up our favorite foods one last time,snagging banna shakes, Pad Thai, late night roti, Papaya salad, and a surprisingly good Tom Yum in fried rice. The girls did some more shopping on Kho San Road, with Anna getting yelled at by a shopekeeper for attempting to bargain (still got thirty baht off the shirt she is wearing now). We ended the night at a classy rooftop bar listening to live music.
***
The girls seem bored out of their minds currently, which is not good given the amount of traveling we still have ahead of us.
Sam has discovered the fist of the communist party and is unable to access Facebook. I've tried to nap a bit, as it is night in America right now, and had a nice snooze but did not sleep. Sam said I looked ridiculous laying on the floor with my eye mask on (Note that sam is currently alseep on the floor, albeit looking more tranquil than ridiculous). The international wing is not all that big and it is nice and familiar at this point. I feel the world is at your fingertips when I look at the Departure board or walk among the gates. Colombo, Singapore, Kathmandu, Melborne, Brisbane, Nairobi, Kuala Lumper, Doha. Guangzhou is the China Southern hub and flies direct to Vancouver, Chicago, LA, and NYC.
We have been approached by a representative of the Tourism Authority of Guangzhou to ask about what we thought about the city. All I'ediscerned from the China Daily i read on the first flightwas that it is mentioned in the same breath as Bejing ad Shanghai; we told him we haven't left the airport. He tried to talk to Anna twice in different parts of the airport - all those tall blonde white girls look the same, I suppose.
Anna and Sam are optimistic that this transpacific flight will be on a much better airplane than last time. Our Bangkok airplane was very nice, but I'm not optimistic. Off to find dinner, Anna's appetite is back.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Back of da Bus
We are in the back of a minibus. it is quite hot and cramped, but hey, we are back in Thailand and that is good. Poor Anna has been battling the fish she ate last night but has been a trooper and I think she will survive the car ride unscathed.
News:
My old passport is back in Bangkok. Now how to get it back between now and my flight...
No bribes or blckmail this time,but westill felt like cattle at the border crossing, and were probably more confused this time.
The Mavericks won. That is good. Once we got into Bangkok's Edge and then 3G range, I started getting caught up on my Bill Simmons.
You can only get Cambodian stamps at THE post office. So all yall that wanted a postcard from Cambodia will have to settle for Cambodian postcards (purchased from adorable cambodian children for the coplete experience. 13 for a dollar) stamped in thailand.
A bag of fresh raw peanuts is soggy and unsalted but still a good traveling snack.
But cliff bars, no matter how travel worn, are always the most delectable emergency rations, emergency or not.
We are hoping to stay in the same hostel we spent our first night. I find that wonderfully symetric, don't you, dear reader?
Monday, June 13, 2011
Don't worry
We are alive.
Just finished 3 days of touring the Angkor Archeological Park and its environs. I'll put up a more detailed post on that tomorrow, as we will be traveling and I will have lots of down time to type.
Picking a hostel out for tomorrow in Bangkok, online. Then out to eat for dinner and perhaps a night out in Siem Reap.
Just finished 3 days of touring the Angkor Archeological Park and its environs. I'll put up a more detailed post on that tomorrow, as we will be traveling and I will have lots of down time to type.
Picking a hostel out for tomorrow in Bangkok, online. Then out to eat for dinner and perhaps a night out in Siem Reap.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Cambodia
We made it. In a rather hot internet cafe right now (11pm), which is unfortunate because I just showered. We are staying in Popular Guest House, Siem Reap, Cambodia, for the next 4 nights; the Angkor Wat temple complex is just a few kilometers away. The girls are upstairs, showering themselves.
Yesterday was very hectic. Today was slow, but oddly far more stressful. Heading to unknown territory will do that. Approaching a border crossing after reading the 4 entire pages in your Lonely Planet guidebook about how you are about to be scammed, misguided, and generally taken advantage of will also do that to you.
We spent last night in Siam Square, a happening, modern part of town; breakfasted with banana smoothies and took the Skytrain then taxi to the bus station. With relative ease (compared to the zoo that was yesterday in the bus terminal. Anna or Sam will have to write about that soon) we purchased our bus to Aranyaprathet, Thailand. Bus was 212B (or like 6.50), and a good 4 hours. Upon arrival, we stuck to our Lonely Planet guns, avoided the official looking Thais offering to stamp our passports, got our passports stamped by real officials*, fended off the Tuk tuk drivers, and walked on foot to Cambodia. After around 5 minutes our motley group of foreigners arrived at the border. Once there we were ushered along by Cambodia security, who disconcertingly didn't look all that official. But we filled out some paperwork indicating we were healthy, submitted it, and moved on to get our visa (moving from one dilapidated building to another, none of which look particularly governmental).
*and here confirmed my new passport works!
At the visa desk, the girls paid the expected $20 plus 200B because they didn't have any photos to attach to their application. Did they then get their photos taken? Nope.
I then approach the desk. I whip out my passport, completed form, and a photo. $20 and 100B, they say. I point to the sign above the desk indicating $20 for a tourist visa, and hand him everything with the twenty but no Baht. A brief back and forth ensues, I hold my ground, and he finally just slides my paperwork to the side of the counter.
Alrighty, I'll play ball; I hand him a 100B note, he smiles and takes my paperwork, and a few minutes later I had my visa and was on my, having successfully bribed my way into Cambodia.
We took the free shuttle to the bus station (actually not a scam, as Lonely Planet warned us), warded off the active bus agents, and grabbed a famished lunch (nearly 3). After lunch we tried to shake the bus operators and hail a taxi, but they followed us out of the station and on to the street. A friendly Korean has told me he paid $25 for his ride to Siem Reap, but with the intimidation of the bus officials we couldn't negotiate w/ the taxi driver and settled for $30 for the 160km (I think) ride to Siem Reap. We watched the taxi driver hand the bus dude cash once we got in the car. Anna was furious we were so blatently taken advantage of, but hey, what's a few extra dollars if it gets you where you need to go.
Cambodia is far more 3rd world than Thailand (though the part of Siem Reap where we are is happening). Driving is also more frightening. My motorcycle drive through downtown Bangkok was exhilarating, but at least in Thailand the chaos is organized chaos, and the even if the de facto rules of the road are crazy and illegal, at least you get the impression everyone is on the same page. Much less of that here. I sat up front w/ the cabbie (back to right-handed drive here, as a former French colony), and it was stressful at times. The road was never more than 2 lanes with no median, but boy did it have lots of lanes. We say at one point 3 motorcycles and 2 bikes abrest, in a single lane. The shoulders are used as the slow lane, for all the bikes, tractors, and trucks. Sadly the herd of cows we weaved through didn't really obey this rule. The center of the road was for passing, and we did lots of it. Our cabbie honked often. Often. Never really figured out why. Perhaps to signal he was passing cars and bikes (so said Lonely Planet), which looked reasonable but there wasn't a clear pattern. He also aggressively used his turn signal, which was odd because I'm not sure if we ever turned once we left Poi Pet.
Upon arrival we snagged a free tuk tuk into the city, avoided his favorite hostel, booked one here, ate a sumptuous dinner (I had amok, a traditional Khmer (Cambodian) dish; it was basically yet another type of curry, or goop on rice as I like to call it. Deeelicious, and at a nice sit down restaurant I paid the high price of $3, plus $1.50 for 1.5L of water), went to another restaurant solely for sticky rice and mango (win), went shopping at the night market, where I bought elephant pants and a dorky straw hat (double win), and back to the hostel for the night.
8am departure w/ our guide and tuk tuk tomorrow. The AC here is not working. Goodnight.
Yesterday was very hectic. Today was slow, but oddly far more stressful. Heading to unknown territory will do that. Approaching a border crossing after reading the 4 entire pages in your Lonely Planet guidebook about how you are about to be scammed, misguided, and generally taken advantage of will also do that to you.
We spent last night in Siam Square, a happening, modern part of town; breakfasted with banana smoothies and took the Skytrain then taxi to the bus station. With relative ease (compared to the zoo that was yesterday in the bus terminal. Anna or Sam will have to write about that soon) we purchased our bus to Aranyaprathet, Thailand. Bus was 212B (or like 6.50), and a good 4 hours. Upon arrival, we stuck to our Lonely Planet guns, avoided the official looking Thais offering to stamp our passports, got our passports stamped by real officials*, fended off the Tuk tuk drivers, and walked on foot to Cambodia. After around 5 minutes our motley group of foreigners arrived at the border. Once there we were ushered along by Cambodia security, who disconcertingly didn't look all that official. But we filled out some paperwork indicating we were healthy, submitted it, and moved on to get our visa (moving from one dilapidated building to another, none of which look particularly governmental).
*and here confirmed my new passport works!
At the visa desk, the girls paid the expected $20 plus 200B because they didn't have any photos to attach to their application. Did they then get their photos taken? Nope.
I then approach the desk. I whip out my passport, completed form, and a photo. $20 and 100B, they say. I point to the sign above the desk indicating $20 for a tourist visa, and hand him everything with the twenty but no Baht. A brief back and forth ensues, I hold my ground, and he finally just slides my paperwork to the side of the counter.
Alrighty, I'll play ball; I hand him a 100B note, he smiles and takes my paperwork, and a few minutes later I had my visa and was on my, having successfully bribed my way into Cambodia.
We took the free shuttle to the bus station (actually not a scam, as Lonely Planet warned us), warded off the active bus agents, and grabbed a famished lunch (nearly 3). After lunch we tried to shake the bus operators and hail a taxi, but they followed us out of the station and on to the street. A friendly Korean has told me he paid $25 for his ride to Siem Reap, but with the intimidation of the bus officials we couldn't negotiate w/ the taxi driver and settled for $30 for the 160km (I think) ride to Siem Reap. We watched the taxi driver hand the bus dude cash once we got in the car. Anna was furious we were so blatently taken advantage of, but hey, what's a few extra dollars if it gets you where you need to go.
Cambodia is far more 3rd world than Thailand (though the part of Siem Reap where we are is happening). Driving is also more frightening. My motorcycle drive through downtown Bangkok was exhilarating, but at least in Thailand the chaos is organized chaos, and the even if the de facto rules of the road are crazy and illegal, at least you get the impression everyone is on the same page. Much less of that here. I sat up front w/ the cabbie (back to right-handed drive here, as a former French colony), and it was stressful at times. The road was never more than 2 lanes with no median, but boy did it have lots of lanes. We say at one point 3 motorcycles and 2 bikes abrest, in a single lane. The shoulders are used as the slow lane, for all the bikes, tractors, and trucks. Sadly the herd of cows we weaved through didn't really obey this rule. The center of the road was for passing, and we did lots of it. Our cabbie honked often. Often. Never really figured out why. Perhaps to signal he was passing cars and bikes (so said Lonely Planet), which looked reasonable but there wasn't a clear pattern. He also aggressively used his turn signal, which was odd because I'm not sure if we ever turned once we left Poi Pet.
Upon arrival we snagged a free tuk tuk into the city, avoided his favorite hostel, booked one here, ate a sumptuous dinner (I had amok, a traditional Khmer (Cambodian) dish; it was basically yet another type of curry, or goop on rice as I like to call it. Deeelicious, and at a nice sit down restaurant I paid the high price of $3, plus $1.50 for 1.5L of water), went to another restaurant solely for sticky rice and mango (win), went shopping at the night market, where I bought elephant pants and a dorky straw hat (double win), and back to the hostel for the night.
8am departure w/ our guide and tuk tuk tomorrow. The AC here is not working. Goodnight.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
I left my heart in Angthong, and my passport in Koh Tao
Well, Koh Nang Yuan, to be specific. But Koh Tao was close enough.
I loved being on Ang Thong. It was a bit slow for our travel style, staying there for a full day, but it was sooo relaxing to spend time with not much to do on an island that was an outrageously stereotypical island paradise. I didn't like the main islands as much - they were pricey, hard to get around, and they ate my passport.
***
In the past 30 hours, my travel devices have been: Long Boat, motorcycle, catamaran, charter bus, train, taxi, taxi, city bus, skytrain [elevated train], motorcyle, taxi, taxi, underground rail, underground rail and skytrain, and much much walking.
***
The ferry schedules were not convenient in the island, but we were able to jerry-rig a schedule that actually worked out quite well. We took the early ferry (8am) from Koh Samui to Koh Tao, a 2 hour cruise north. On Koh Tao, famous for its Scubaing, Anna and Sam walked into a random tourist shop* and rented a long-tailed boat for the afternoon (300B total). The boat took us to Koh Nang Yuan, were we snorkeled from 11 to 1. And somewhere in the coral reef there, my passport, which I always have on my person (and did for the 2 days of wearing my swimsuit in Angthong), drifted out of my pocket**. The water was clearer than Angthong, and there were a staggeringly large about of fish, some of which tried to eat my feet. Anna had a lovely time snorkeling, and I would have too if I hadn't discovered my passport was missing 20 minutes in.
*We do this sparingly, but to high success.
**Yes, I went snorkeling with my passport. No, I will not make any further attempt to defend myself in this blog. As the official in the embassy said with the perfect balance of incredulity and scorn, "You went snorkeling with your passport?"
Upon our return to Koh Tao, we had 45 minutes before our ferry left. We quickly gained internet access to figure out what I needed to do, and ascertained that I needed a police report. With Anna and Sam at the ferry terminal ready to leave without me, I hopped on a motorcyle taxi and sped to the local police station. Filing the police report was a strange experience. The officer said very little to me, in Thai or English; he showed me a completed "lost passport" form, I wrote my appropriate answers in English on a blank sheet of paper, and he copied my answers over in Thai into an official form. I then took that form with me, leaving no copy at the police station. I found this very odd, but sped back to the ferry terminal and got on the catamaran with a few minutes to spare.
We had purchased a joint ferry-train ticket to Bangkok at the tourist office. The catamaran cruised to Chumphon. In was a 3 hour drive; I fumed at myself, Anna fumed at me (I assume, the girls have been good at not saying anything), and Sam slept. In Chumphon we caught a bus transfer to the train station. In Chumphon we paid 20B each to shower (gloriousness!) and went to town on food at the nigh market (Loss on the dry dougnuts, win on the banana muslim roti and the 10B sugary popcorn [my breakfast and lunch today]). Astonishingly, the train left exactly on time.
A few hours too early we rolled into Bangkok. We walked out of the train station, looked for breakfast, failed, and hailed a taxi to the US Embassy. We arrived right as it was opening at 7.30am.
And hence began a long day. Which will be explained later, perhaps on my long bus ride to Cambodia. But worry not, I have a new, valid passport in my pocket, and we leave tomorrow morning for Cambodia, Siem Reap, and Angkor Wat. Wish us luck.
AJ
I loved being on Ang Thong. It was a bit slow for our travel style, staying there for a full day, but it was sooo relaxing to spend time with not much to do on an island that was an outrageously stereotypical island paradise. I didn't like the main islands as much - they were pricey, hard to get around, and they ate my passport.
***
In the past 30 hours, my travel devices have been: Long Boat, motorcycle, catamaran, charter bus, train, taxi, taxi, city bus, skytrain [elevated train], motorcyle, taxi, taxi, underground rail, underground rail and skytrain, and much much walking.
***
The ferry schedules were not convenient in the island, but we were able to jerry-rig a schedule that actually worked out quite well. We took the early ferry (8am) from Koh Samui to Koh Tao, a 2 hour cruise north. On Koh Tao, famous for its Scubaing, Anna and Sam walked into a random tourist shop* and rented a long-tailed boat for the afternoon (300B total). The boat took us to Koh Nang Yuan, were we snorkeled from 11 to 1. And somewhere in the coral reef there, my passport, which I always have on my person (and did for the 2 days of wearing my swimsuit in Angthong), drifted out of my pocket**. The water was clearer than Angthong, and there were a staggeringly large about of fish, some of which tried to eat my feet. Anna had a lovely time snorkeling, and I would have too if I hadn't discovered my passport was missing 20 minutes in.
*We do this sparingly, but to high success.
**Yes, I went snorkeling with my passport. No, I will not make any further attempt to defend myself in this blog. As the official in the embassy said with the perfect balance of incredulity and scorn, "You went snorkeling with your passport?"
Upon our return to Koh Tao, we had 45 minutes before our ferry left. We quickly gained internet access to figure out what I needed to do, and ascertained that I needed a police report. With Anna and Sam at the ferry terminal ready to leave without me, I hopped on a motorcyle taxi and sped to the local police station. Filing the police report was a strange experience. The officer said very little to me, in Thai or English; he showed me a completed "lost passport" form, I wrote my appropriate answers in English on a blank sheet of paper, and he copied my answers over in Thai into an official form. I then took that form with me, leaving no copy at the police station. I found this very odd, but sped back to the ferry terminal and got on the catamaran with a few minutes to spare.
We had purchased a joint ferry-train ticket to Bangkok at the tourist office. The catamaran cruised to Chumphon. In was a 3 hour drive; I fumed at myself, Anna fumed at me (I assume, the girls have been good at not saying anything), and Sam slept. In Chumphon we caught a bus transfer to the train station. In Chumphon we paid 20B each to shower (gloriousness!) and went to town on food at the nigh market (Loss on the dry dougnuts, win on the banana muslim roti and the 10B sugary popcorn [my breakfast and lunch today]). Astonishingly, the train left exactly on time.
A few hours too early we rolled into Bangkok. We walked out of the train station, looked for breakfast, failed, and hailed a taxi to the US Embassy. We arrived right as it was opening at 7.30am.
And hence began a long day. Which will be explained later, perhaps on my long bus ride to Cambodia. But worry not, I have a new, valid passport in my pocket, and we leave tomorrow morning for Cambodia, Siem Reap, and Angkor Wat. Wish us luck.
AJ
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Ang Thong MNP
This blog was mostly written yesterday on a ferry, but just finished it up now, evening of Thursday, June 9th. We were in Angthong Monday and Tuesday.
We spent the last twp days at Ang Thong Marine National Park,an archipelago that runs parallel to Koh Samui.
We were unfortunately not able to kayak when the tour boat returned, so we tootled about the island until we headed back with the full group. Back in the hostel we game planned for our last day in the island (next post), and headed to Bo Phut, a fishing village the next beach over.
Bo Phut was a happening place, but as much a fishing village as a lovely collection of stores, resteraunts, and bars. We had a deeeeelicious Indian dinner, nice to break up all the Thai food (though Anna still got rice, whereas Sam and I went to town on some Nan). After dinner we walked around Bo Phut and found beach access through a Bob Marley themed bar. We snagged beach recliners from the hotel next door and relaxed on seats we didn't pay for, listening to music from a bar we didn't buy drinks at, and watching sky lanterns* paid by other beach goers drift by. Epic win on our travel style. We all nearly fell asleep on the beach before we headed back.
*flaming bags of plastic. Google image Thailand Sky Lanterns.
We spent the last twp days at Ang Thong Marine National Park,an archipelago that runs parallel to Koh Samui.
We paid for a full tour of the islands as that's really the only way to get there, and then we just spent the night on the island and caught the next tour group back.
The boat first stopped at an island with an interior salt lake, so we climbed some precarious stairs to reveal the hidden lake. At the top, i set down our dry bag of valuables (you know, like Anna and Sam's passports, credit cards, etc) turn to say something to Anna, and watched the dry bag tumble down through the security barrier. Oops.
After attempting to communicate with a worker ("You have no idea what I'm saying to you, do you?") I clambered over the barrier onto the rather sharp rocks below and retrieved the bag from a bush it was thankfully caught in. Upon my return Sam took the bag from me and hit me several times.
After that adventure we returned to the boat, drove to another small island, and kayaked. We took a three-man kayak, but they only gave us two paddles with the middle person supposed to just chill and take pictures. Since I had the waterproof camera and the bum wrist I was put in the middle, which was rather emasculating. The Thai guys loading the boat were like,"really, you are putting the guy in the middle," or whatever that would be in Thai.
We then had lunch on the boat and drove to the main island. We rented a bungalow, which was a delightful thirty percent off on Mondays. We took the six-man bungalow, which was still the cheapest night we have had in Thailand by a few hundred Baht, and we got six complementary water bottles instead of three.
We went snorkeling in a heavily trafficked reef on the main beach. The visibility was atrocious, but Anna and I entertained ourselves. Sam, disgusted by the ocean, was bored on the shoreline. Then, off to the Bat Cave! One of the two main hikes was to a large cave whose roof had partially collapsed. No bats, but we enjoyed ourselves clambering about.
Dinner at the onsite restaurants, followed by a healthy airing of grievances. We established that Sam has regular mood swings, getting unnecessarily perky about an hour after dinner right as Anna and I are wrapping up the day; I am apparently "needy" and talk to much; and Anna has no discernible flaws. Sam and I also explained to Anna (ever the attentive listener) that you can, in fact, not listen to most of the random things that I say.
The following morning I slept in much longer than the girls. After breakfast (pancakes!) we hiked up to the overlook. The hike was very difficult, at times clinging to a singe think rope as you go up and down some very sharp rocks. The was a breathtaking view of the whole park at the top.
We were unfortunately not able to kayak when the tour boat returned, so we tootled about the island until we headed back with the full group. Back in the hostel we game planned for our last day in the island (next post), and headed to Bo Phut, a fishing village the next beach over.
Bo Phut was a happening place, but as much a fishing village as a lovely collection of stores, resteraunts, and bars. We had a deeeeelicious Indian dinner, nice to break up all the Thai food (though Anna still got rice, whereas Sam and I went to town on some Nan). After dinner we walked around Bo Phut and found beach access through a Bob Marley themed bar. We snagged beach recliners from the hotel next door and relaxed on seats we didn't pay for, listening to music from a bar we didn't buy drinks at, and watching sky lanterns* paid by other beach goers drift by. Epic win on our travel style. We all nearly fell asleep on the beach before we headed back.
*flaming bags of plastic. Google image Thailand Sky Lanterns.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Arrival in Koh Samui
We had a nice plane ride on Bangkok Air,much nicer than China Southern. We negotiated our taxi to the hostel for 400 baht from 600 but probably still got ripped off. Our hostel is very nice but basically empty, and we lounged om the beach and then pool upon arrival before sorting out what we will do here. But on this island paradise you just...want...to ...slow...down and do nothing and just relax.
Because of time limits we will not try to visit Koh Tao. We are heading to Ang Thong NP tommorrow and intend to spend the night.
The owner/operator is named Sugar and she is quite nice. We will probably book most things through her while here.
Dinner BBQ:we wlked slighty inland for dinner and, as per usual, trie a random restauant. This one was far more confusing than most,and it took us twenty minutes to figure out that we collected raw food from the buffet and grilled/ boiled it ourselves at our table above hot coals. I thought it was brilliant, and Anna thoroughly stuffed herself, but bc we didn't anticipate shared cooking, my raw meats impeaded sam's ability to eat. But the night ended in a win when Sam successfully boiled two eggs in the half inch of water avaliable for cooking.
Watching the French Open now with Sugar. Both rooting for Nadal. Will shower once Anna and Sam are done. Played Go Fish and an atrocious game of pool before. Raining now.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Wrapping up Chiang Mai
In the airport waiting for our noon flight to Ko Samui. Have AC.
Between trekking and biking,we took a day long cooking class. it was very interesting and incredibly helpful after the fact in iding stuff in the markets, watching the food vendors,and figuring out what the heck we were eating. The was a tour of a marketplace included, where we found a smoothie maker who we have returned to several times now, including breakfast today.
We shared our class with some teenagers from Quebec. Had good conversation with them. Talked about differences in educational systems and drinking ages.
That evening we went to a temple for some more Monk Chat and had a meditation practice with a very intense monk. Afterwards we stumbled upon a big city festival at a wat. Saw little monks holding carnival prizes.
Two nights ago we went out and successfully made friends with some Thai engineering students. or at least Anna and Sam did, I was a bit out of it. They cheered a about everything Sam said. (you study engineering? Cheers yaaaaaa). We taught them the English words Drunk and Sober. Hopefully they remember meeting us.
Yesterday was a lazy day. We splurged on lunch,meaning we spent around three dollars on a river front restaurant with nice atmosphere and lots of cats. Wrote our first wave of postcards. We then IDed Love at First Bite in our travel book and successfully foumd it without getting lost or sidetracked,a first for us,and treated ourselves to some banana cream pie,key lime pie,and brownie. We went to Saturday Walking street,the big weekend market,and did a fair amont of shopping and buying. The national anthem played at six, with everyone standing and quiet for the duration. A little freaky and automatonic in my book. The night ended with a huge rainstorm blowing in. Everyone scurried for cover, and we sheltered under a street vendor's table. We ordered dinner and waited for the rain to come. It took a bit before the black clouds and lighting unleashed their rain, but boy did it rain. Every five minutes we turn and say "I think it is raining harder now. It cant possibly rain harder." After awhile we gave up, bundled our purchases up, and walked home in the rain.
Friday, June 3, 2011
The Trek
This post was written on Saturday, June 4th
*Most of the European or Canadian gap year-ers that we have met are between high school and college, so they are all 18~19 years old. Crazy. These girls were all 18 except one 23 year old older sister. They were an attractive lot, and we exchanged card games; they seemed to enjoy Egyptian Rat Screw.
** I'm using Anna's diary to make sure i don't forget anything. Here it says "gross breakfast in train"
As veteran travelers, we arrived in the Chiang Mai train station, got out, looked at each other, and said, 'well, I guess we walk towards the city.' After 15 minutes of very hot walking (~noon), we yielded and hailed a tuk-tuk. After some confused negotiated, we got a price we were happy with and hopped on. Soon we got to the city walls and the East entrance of the old city, and our driver pulled over to talk w/ some men on the side of the road. It quickly became apparent our driver had no idea where he was going, had never heard of our hostel, and couldn't read English. Eventually, one of the other men said to Sam, "You read, I know." So Sam tried to pronounce the name of our hostel (mind you Anna wasn't even sure if she had interpreted Kevin's handwriting correctly in the first place), got some glimmer of recognition, and off we went. Incredibly, our tuk tuk them made it's way to our hostel, Gongkaew, on the NW side of the old city.
We walked into the city center that afternoon to check our treks, but after consulting with Eric and Ryan (see below), we decided to do a 1-night trek, and we booked whatever our hostel recommended so that we would be trekking with Kevin and Andre, as the guidebooks had said that the key to a good trek was a good group.
That evening we went out to the east side of the city and the Night Bazaar with Eric and Ryan, 2 brothers from Minnesota we met in our hostel who had been traveling for a while. Sam had a hoot with the 2 guys (hopefully her first friends in Minnesota when she moves out there in a few weeks), so Anna and I wingmanned for most of the evening. Our dinner was a bit touristy (the night bazaar sits beneath all the Western hostel towers on the east side of the city), and Anna's was super hot. We then went to a few bars and, well, saw lots of prostitutes. Lots. At our primary bar we played pool, and the prostitutes enjoyed watching the white people makes fools of ourselves.
***
The following morning (Monday, May 30), we got picked up by a songtheaw in our hostel, made a few unexplained stops along the way (spending 20 minutes idling in a mechanics shop is a bit disconcerting), and stopped by a police office to drop off copies of our passports (never saw those again, had to make new copies yesterday). We picked up 4 Frenchies, and between them and the 5 of us it was quite cramped. Anna and Sam were wedged up against the cab and had a rather miserable drive out of the city, an hour-ish.
We separated from the Frenchies upon arrival, so our trek was just Sam, Anna, Kevin, Andre, and myself, plus our guide, Huan. Or Han. Or perhaps Pao. Never did sort that one out. A 10 minute walk to the elephant camp, and then immediately hopped on an elephant.
Our elephant's name was Leroy. Or at least that's what we decided. Asian elephants are not nearly as large as African ones, but he (she? Anna's journal notes that Leroy was a year into pregnacy) was still large enough to not seem bothered by me straddling his neck, with my knees tucked under her ears, and Sam and Anna sitting on a steel and wood bench strapped to his back. Leroy had quite dry skin, just kinda plodded along, and liked to eat. Other than that, not much to report. The ride was slow but surprisingly smooth and pleasant, and we ambled through the middle of a creek for much of it, which was very scenic. Andre and Kevin followed behind on another elephant; their guide was far livelier, he showed us leaves that would dye your hand red, demostrated how to blow bubbles using a leaf's stem and juice, would shout "Oh my Buddha" whenever he slide on and off the elephant. He would also sing songs which sounded vaguely American.
After riding Leroy, we had Pad Thai and Sam played with a super cute puppy, and we fed the elephants bananas. We then left on foot and marched up the valley, walking along rice paddies and fields of cabbage, papaya, and corn, which our guide would point out to us. We then cut up the mountain side, which was quite steep at times (didn't encounter switchbacks until our motorbike ride up Doi Suthep). We stopped by a bat cave, which freaked out everyone, especially Anna, but I thought it was super cool. Couldn't really get pictures of the bats, but you could hear then and seen them as they buzzed around your heads.
Rest of this post was finished early morning, Sunday June 5.
The rest of the afternoon was spent marching uphill. Our guide did a good job of stopping to show up various plants of interest as we walked by. We had a raw peanut, which was pale w/ a bit of purple, and basically tasted like a peanut if you stripped away all of the salt from roasting; it was moist and slightly crunchy. I was the only one brave (stupid?) enough to bite into a chili, which was painfully hot and gave me a strong case of the hiccups. We were taught how to "pop" leaves, where you take a fresh leaf and place it into your slightly clench hand, and smack down w/ the other hand, causing a sharp crack. Anna excelled, and appeared to have discovered a new party trick for herself.
Eventually, we hit a ridge line which we followed for the last thirty minutes or so. The ridge line had gorgeous views. Our guide cut us some fresh sugar can to munch on as we approached our village. We passed the spirit house for the village and entered the village. After dropping our stuff in our hut for the night, we wandered about the Hmong village and saw many cute children, chicks, and piglets. The village was not that big, and apparently everyone lets their animals roam free, and each household simply remember whose is which animal. Not that one black piglet looks different than another. We tried out our token Hmong word, "abuyya," hello/thank you, to minimal success.
Our sleeping quarters was a bamboo hut situated at the bottom of the village, affording stunning views of the valley below, especially when a rain storm blew in and you could hear the rain crescendo at it approached. The floor and the sides had enough gaps for you see through, to toss scrap food out, and for Andre to occasionally fall through, but amazingly the roof did not leak, including under a downpour. We slept on wooden pallets; no one slept well, which meant that I slept like normal.
Dinner was cooked inside of the wooden hut, which was initially alarming. We were led by a local village, a young man who we think was deaf, and would be constantly grunting and hooting. He was incredibly expressive, waving his hands about and making noise, and he had a few hand signals that he and the guide understood. It took a bit getting used to, but eventually Anna and Sam were able to follow his instruction to make our dinner, cucumber soup (served hot) and stir fried veggies w/ egg. We also marched our way through 2 bottles of rice whiskey, which our cook was constantly offering to us, and he was quite tipsy by the time it was done. We played some mind games using twigs with our guide, and then after we were alone we played a round of 21 with Chang, the local beer [Chang = elephant. Chang is the cheapest of the few local brands, and given that, it is quite good. Knowing his clientele, the last thing the villagers did when they left us was restock our Chang supply.
The bathroom, oh the bathroom. [Anna's journal: "Bathroom = tragic"]. Obviously minimal running water at the top of the mountain, so no showering. The toilet was a standard Thai squat toilet, but we had to bring our own toilet paper; Anna and Sam dropped the tp in the water in their first trip to the bathroom, but thankfully Kevin and Andre were able to bail us out. The bathroom was wet, dirty (dirt floor), and had a profusion of spiders and ants.
In the morning, Sam made breakfast (scrambled eggs with carrots, onions, and pineapple, plus toast) under the cooks guidance, and we headed off the mountain. Hike downhill was worse, and I developed blisters on the top of my feet. At one point Sam slipped and may have gone all the way down the mountain if she had not caught herself at the feet of Kevin, with Anna standing helplessly above, "Kevin! Stop her!"
Near the bottom we arrived at a waterfall which we were able to swim in, including sliding down the main fall, incredibly refreshing. We then hopped into a pickup truck (not ever converted to a songthaew) for a bumpy ride to the beachhead. We suited up for white water rafting, and Anna had her first rafting experience. The rapid were not difficult but were challenging enough to make it fun. We actually spent most of the time on the river out of the boat floating on our backs down the river; Anna kept falling behind because her skort would fill up like a parachute. For me, rafting down the river with the jungle flowing past was another one of those Indiana Jones / wow I'm in Thailand moments.
We finished with bamboo rafting; the raft was a single, long craft made entirely of bamboo and mostly submerged when we all clambered on. Not particularly exciting, or comfortable. We had Pad Thai for lunch, then a far more comfortable songthaew ride back into the city (~1 hour); on that ride we met a girl who had been traveling for 8 months, mostly solo.
***
When we got back we showered (glorious), for the rest of the evening see http://ajstravelingadventures.blogspot.com/2011/06/chiang-mai-morning.html
Rest of this post was finished early morning, Sunday June 5.
The rest of the afternoon was spent marching uphill. Our guide did a good job of stopping to show up various plants of interest as we walked by. We had a raw peanut, which was pale w/ a bit of purple, and basically tasted like a peanut if you stripped away all of the salt from roasting; it was moist and slightly crunchy. I was the only one brave (stupid?) enough to bite into a chili, which was painfully hot and gave me a strong case of the hiccups. We were taught how to "pop" leaves, where you take a fresh leaf and place it into your slightly clench hand, and smack down w/ the other hand, causing a sharp crack. Anna excelled, and appeared to have discovered a new party trick for herself.
Eventually, we hit a ridge line which we followed for the last thirty minutes or so. The ridge line had gorgeous views. Our guide cut us some fresh sugar can to munch on as we approached our village. We passed the spirit house for the village and entered the village. After dropping our stuff in our hut for the night, we wandered about the Hmong village and saw many cute children, chicks, and piglets. The village was not that big, and apparently everyone lets their animals roam free, and each household simply remember whose is which animal. Not that one black piglet looks different than another. We tried out our token Hmong word, "abuyya," hello/thank you, to minimal success.
Our sleeping quarters was a bamboo hut situated at the bottom of the village, affording stunning views of the valley below, especially when a rain storm blew in and you could hear the rain crescendo at it approached. The floor and the sides had enough gaps for you see through, to toss scrap food out, and for Andre to occasionally fall through, but amazingly the roof did not leak, including under a downpour. We slept on wooden pallets; no one slept well, which meant that I slept like normal.
Dinner was cooked inside of the wooden hut, which was initially alarming. We were led by a local village, a young man who we think was deaf, and would be constantly grunting and hooting. He was incredibly expressive, waving his hands about and making noise, and he had a few hand signals that he and the guide understood. It took a bit getting used to, but eventually Anna and Sam were able to follow his instruction to make our dinner, cucumber soup (served hot) and stir fried veggies w/ egg. We also marched our way through 2 bottles of rice whiskey, which our cook was constantly offering to us, and he was quite tipsy by the time it was done. We played some mind games using twigs with our guide, and then after we were alone we played a round of 21 with Chang, the local beer [Chang = elephant. Chang is the cheapest of the few local brands, and given that, it is quite good. Knowing his clientele, the last thing the villagers did when they left us was restock our Chang supply.
The bathroom, oh the bathroom. [Anna's journal: "Bathroom = tragic"]. Obviously minimal running water at the top of the mountain, so no showering. The toilet was a standard Thai squat toilet, but we had to bring our own toilet paper; Anna and Sam dropped the tp in the water in their first trip to the bathroom, but thankfully Kevin and Andre were able to bail us out. The bathroom was wet, dirty (dirt floor), and had a profusion of spiders and ants.
In the morning, Sam made breakfast (scrambled eggs with carrots, onions, and pineapple, plus toast) under the cooks guidance, and we headed off the mountain. Hike downhill was worse, and I developed blisters on the top of my feet. At one point Sam slipped and may have gone all the way down the mountain if she had not caught herself at the feet of Kevin, with Anna standing helplessly above, "Kevin! Stop her!"
Near the bottom we arrived at a waterfall which we were able to swim in, including sliding down the main fall, incredibly refreshing. We then hopped into a pickup truck (not ever converted to a songthaew) for a bumpy ride to the beachhead. We suited up for white water rafting, and Anna had her first rafting experience. The rapid were not difficult but were challenging enough to make it fun. We actually spent most of the time on the river out of the boat floating on our backs down the river; Anna kept falling behind because her skort would fill up like a parachute. For me, rafting down the river with the jungle flowing past was another one of those Indiana Jones / wow I'm in Thailand moments.
We finished with bamboo rafting; the raft was a single, long craft made entirely of bamboo and mostly submerged when we all clambered on. Not particularly exciting, or comfortable. We had Pad Thai for lunch, then a far more comfortable songthaew ride back into the city (~1 hour); on that ride we met a girl who had been traveling for 8 months, mostly solo.
***
When we got back we showered (glorious), for the rest of the evening see http://ajstravelingadventures.blogspot.com/2011/06/chiang-mai-morning.html
We rented motorcyles.
Aw yeah. Well, mopeds. Green ones, specifically. But they were quite large and difficult to handle when not moving, as Anna found out the hard way this afternoon. Thankfully in her nasty tumble she lost little more than her dignity.
2 brothers that we met at our hostel, Eric and Ryan, had recommended to us to rent mopeds and cruise up Doi Suthep, the mountain overlooking Chiang Mai. The mountain has a famous wat (temple), Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, that one can take songthaews up to. But why take sketchy converted pickup trucks (which we have done at length) and have your life endangered by a driver you don't know when you can do it yourself? My thoughts exactly.
My day started at 720. I got up, went to the bathroom, ate some toast, went to the bathroom*, and returned to our room as the girls got up around 8. We walked over to the market where we bought our food for our cooking class yesterday (I'll catch up soon, I promise) and grabbed breakfast and headed over to Mr Beers**, our rental location. 600 Baht, 3 signatures, and Anna's passport later, we had 3 mopeds at our disposal (and car insurance w/ a 2000 Baht deducible!).
*Yes, twice. I'm having some mild GI problems that manifest every morning, but aside from Sam getting eaten alive (expected) and some feet problem, we have had no medical issues. Street food gets 2 thumbs up.
**No, I have no explanation.
Driving scooters in Thailand is about as dangerous and super fun as you would expect. Given the general lack of traffic cops in Thailand, they are a preferred method of transport in the cities. They swarm, dart in and out of traffic, are themselves traffic, and generally get around very efficiently. It is not uncommon to see people carrying their groceries, dogs, small children, or entire 4 person families on 1 moped.
In the cities, it is like go-cart racing. I actually had to repress my go-cart reflexes, because presumably spinning out in a scooter is different than in a go-cart w/ a roll-bar. At one of the red lights in the old city on the way back, as all the bikes weaved their way to the front, engines humming in anticipation of the light change, I turned to Anna and Sam and said, "I feel like I need some red shells" to clear out the traffic. Traffic lanes are seen as a recommendations by everyone, including the cars. Turning is also optional in turn-only lanes, which I must admit seemed to work quite well. I must also note that the Thai drive in the left lane, British style, but I thought we didn't have any problem with that transition. Thankfully, the car generally drive far more defensively than the scooters, and no one ever seems to have road rage or try to shoulder people out of the way.
It is, however, much more difficult to navigate, mostly because we are not able to stop and check our map and compass (yes, I brought a compass, thank you very much) every intersection, like we do on foot. Anna in particular was quite stressed, but Sam and I think that perhaps she should have driven more aggressively.
Mountain top driving was a beautiful experience. Cruising up and down switchbacks, leaning with the turns, is exhilarating, and Sam especially enjoyed herself. And by enjoy, I mean at times I could hear Sam cackling to the wind.
***
So what did we actually do? After an awkward exchange with our renter as I struggled to start by bike [Thai: You drive scooter before?, AJ: Uh, not really AJ guns the engine and quickly drives away], we cruised out of the city and headed straight up the mountain to Wat Doi Suthep (see http://wikitravel.org/en/Chiang_Mai#Wat_Phrathat_Doi_Suthep). We wandered about the Wat* and had some nice views of the city and valley below, and had lunch in one of the restaurants outside. We killed some time shopping, and I discovered that actually not wanted to buy something is an incredibly good bargaining technique; I purchased a shoddy metal elephant because I was so impressed with my ability to negotiate it down from the 850 listed price to 150B ($5). I'm still looking for some awesome elephant trousers, but I think I'll do most of my clothes and trinket** shopping in Cambodia.
*I'd tell you about the Wat, but who am I kidding - they all look the same. We also have no idea what any of the stuff means (partially true), or why there are so many freakin' Buddha statues (very true). All I've learned from the many signs we have read is that Thai script is very pretty. In a later post, I'll have to tell you about our conversations w/ monks on earlier days, and our practice mediation session last night, but nothing exciting to report from Wat Suthep, aside from a particularly shinny gold Chedi.
**Almost everything has "made in Thailand" stamped to the bottom of it, which in most countries would be a major turn-off, but I suppose goes with the territory here.
After the Wat, we decided to push further up the mountain to some Hmong villages. After the Royal Palace (Phra Tamnak Phu Phing, which had awkward opening hours; we hit it up on the way down), the road transitions to a one lane, paved, and the vegetation. As the responsible 22 year old of the group, I took pictures while driving, so you can check those out when we get back. The village was neat, and shanty-town-ish, aside from the solar panels every hut had (and a wind turbine for the school). The school was nice, and was swarming with adorable children. We didn't buy anything in their coffee or drink stalls, which I felt kinda bad about, but the town was pretty sleepy and no one seemed to mind us being there. On the way back from the village, Dan Kun Chang Kian, it rained, which made for some nervous driving, but cruising through the jungle in the rain was another one of those "wow, I"m really here" type moments.
On the way back we visited the winter palace for the royal family. As non-Thais, we had to pay 50B each, and I had to whip back out my smart pants. It was very pleasant to walk through, and at times the vegetation was so thick around the nicely laid paths that is seemed like I was ambling through Jurassic Park.
The last place on the mountain we stopped at was Nam Tok Wang Bua Bahn, a big fancy name for a nice waterfall. Unless you require your waterfalls to actually fall, in which case it was a very steep, short, and picturesque rapid.
***
Currently, Anna and Sam are researching hostels for Ko Samui, where we head on Sunday. While showing up utterly unprepared, like we did here, worked out well before, we are going to try to avoid it in the future. Then, we will head out to find some bars w/ live music. Wish us luck, as we've failed the last 2 nights (though we did find a sweet carnival).
2 brothers that we met at our hostel, Eric and Ryan, had recommended to us to rent mopeds and cruise up Doi Suthep, the mountain overlooking Chiang Mai. The mountain has a famous wat (temple), Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, that one can take songthaews up to. But why take sketchy converted pickup trucks (which we have done at length) and have your life endangered by a driver you don't know when you can do it yourself? My thoughts exactly.
My day started at 720. I got up, went to the bathroom, ate some toast, went to the bathroom*, and returned to our room as the girls got up around 8. We walked over to the market where we bought our food for our cooking class yesterday (I'll catch up soon, I promise) and grabbed breakfast and headed over to Mr Beers**, our rental location. 600 Baht, 3 signatures, and Anna's passport later, we had 3 mopeds at our disposal (and car insurance w/ a 2000 Baht deducible!).
*Yes, twice. I'm having some mild GI problems that manifest every morning, but aside from Sam getting eaten alive (expected) and some feet problem, we have had no medical issues. Street food gets 2 thumbs up.
**No, I have no explanation.
Driving scooters in Thailand is about as dangerous and super fun as you would expect. Given the general lack of traffic cops in Thailand, they are a preferred method of transport in the cities. They swarm, dart in and out of traffic, are themselves traffic, and generally get around very efficiently. It is not uncommon to see people carrying their groceries, dogs, small children, or entire 4 person families on 1 moped.
In the cities, it is like go-cart racing. I actually had to repress my go-cart reflexes, because presumably spinning out in a scooter is different than in a go-cart w/ a roll-bar. At one of the red lights in the old city on the way back, as all the bikes weaved their way to the front, engines humming in anticipation of the light change, I turned to Anna and Sam and said, "I feel like I need some red shells" to clear out the traffic. Traffic lanes are seen as a recommendations by everyone, including the cars. Turning is also optional in turn-only lanes, which I must admit seemed to work quite well. I must also note that the Thai drive in the left lane, British style, but I thought we didn't have any problem with that transition. Thankfully, the car generally drive far more defensively than the scooters, and no one ever seems to have road rage or try to shoulder people out of the way.
It is, however, much more difficult to navigate, mostly because we are not able to stop and check our map and compass (yes, I brought a compass, thank you very much) every intersection, like we do on foot. Anna in particular was quite stressed, but Sam and I think that perhaps she should have driven more aggressively.
Mountain top driving was a beautiful experience. Cruising up and down switchbacks, leaning with the turns, is exhilarating, and Sam especially enjoyed herself. And by enjoy, I mean at times I could hear Sam cackling to the wind.
***
So what did we actually do? After an awkward exchange with our renter as I struggled to start by bike [Thai: You drive scooter before?, AJ: Uh, not really AJ guns the engine and quickly drives away], we cruised out of the city and headed straight up the mountain to Wat Doi Suthep (see http://wikitravel.org/en/Chiang_Mai#Wat_Phrathat_Doi_Suthep). We wandered about the Wat* and had some nice views of the city and valley below, and had lunch in one of the restaurants outside. We killed some time shopping, and I discovered that actually not wanted to buy something is an incredibly good bargaining technique; I purchased a shoddy metal elephant because I was so impressed with my ability to negotiate it down from the 850 listed price to 150B ($5). I'm still looking for some awesome elephant trousers, but I think I'll do most of my clothes and trinket** shopping in Cambodia.
*I'd tell you about the Wat, but who am I kidding - they all look the same. We also have no idea what any of the stuff means (partially true), or why there are so many freakin' Buddha statues (very true). All I've learned from the many signs we have read is that Thai script is very pretty. In a later post, I'll have to tell you about our conversations w/ monks on earlier days, and our practice mediation session last night, but nothing exciting to report from Wat Suthep, aside from a particularly shinny gold Chedi.
**Almost everything has "made in Thailand" stamped to the bottom of it, which in most countries would be a major turn-off, but I suppose goes with the territory here.
After the Wat, we decided to push further up the mountain to some Hmong villages. After the Royal Palace (Phra Tamnak Phu Phing, which had awkward opening hours; we hit it up on the way down), the road transitions to a one lane, paved, and the vegetation. As the responsible 22 year old of the group, I took pictures while driving, so you can check those out when we get back. The village was neat, and shanty-town-ish, aside from the solar panels every hut had (and a wind turbine for the school). The school was nice, and was swarming with adorable children. We didn't buy anything in their coffee or drink stalls, which I felt kinda bad about, but the town was pretty sleepy and no one seemed to mind us being there. On the way back from the village, Dan Kun Chang Kian, it rained, which made for some nervous driving, but cruising through the jungle in the rain was another one of those "wow, I"m really here" type moments.
On the way back we visited the winter palace for the royal family. As non-Thais, we had to pay 50B each, and I had to whip back out my smart pants. It was very pleasant to walk through, and at times the vegetation was so thick around the nicely laid paths that is seemed like I was ambling through Jurassic Park.
The last place on the mountain we stopped at was Nam Tok Wang Bua Bahn, a big fancy name for a nice waterfall. Unless you require your waterfalls to actually fall, in which case it was a very steep, short, and picturesque rapid.
***
Currently, Anna and Sam are researching hostels for Ko Samui, where we head on Sunday. While showing up utterly unprepared, like we did here, worked out well before, we are going to try to avoid it in the future. Then, we will head out to find some bars w/ live music. Wish us luck, as we've failed the last 2 nights (though we did find a sweet carnival).
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Chiang Mai, morning
It's 830 in the morning, at our hostel in Chiang Mai. We are on the SW side of the old city, within the city walls. It has a very nice courtyard with seats and computers, where I am now. It is very near a school, which is quite noisy (in the afternoon the band practices the same song over and over, much to the chagrin of our owner), but it otherwise quite peaceful. Not many roosters crowing this morning, which is a nice change (or perhaps I'm just learning to sleep through them, which would be awesome).
The girls are not getting up until 845. I would write a longer blog post, but the sun was shining on the computers and was rather hot, so I spent 8 to 830 reading a copy of the International Heral Tribune (global version of the NYTimes) in the shade. Nothing to report, just relaxing to peruse the business section.
Goooooooaaaaaaaal! Santos just scored on Cerro Porteno, which is very good for our friend Andre, who is from Brazil and is watching his club play in the South American Cup semifinal on the computer next to me.
***
The last 2 days and night we spent on a trek. I'll put a long post up on that later - everything we did we wrote down in Anna's journal. After we got back, we showered (dirtiest Anna and Sam had been in their life. Perhaps 2nd for me, behind my week in the Fl Keys w/ Boy Scouts, no showering for 5 days). I discovered that our hostel had a laundry machine, so we splurged on that (40B, or ~$1.30) and washed everything.
After laundry we struck out to explore the west side of the city. We got lost (a very confused schoolgirl gave us bad directions. Or she was trying to get ride of us and we interpreted it as directions), so we explored some of the SW side of the old city outside the walls, which was not very interesting. We were looking to get to Nimmanhaemin Road, which is near the university and supposedly hopping. We eventually got there, but the group was very grumpy* (we ate too late), so we dived into the first restaurant we saw. Unfortunately, we were unable to order vegetarian food, so Sam abandon us and ended up eating 2 doors over (they had tofu). Both restaurants were pretty legit. Ours had English on the menus, but our waiter most definitely did not understand a single thing we said, in English or attempted Thai. Sam's had no English, so she went with the more traditional "go to the kitchen and point at ingredients to construct your dinner" technique.
*Both Anna and Sam just stop talking when they get tired, hungry, etc. It's nice that they don't complain, but it also means I actually have to pay attention to them. Anna says it's a good learning experience for me.
After dinner we tried to find some bars. We were generally unsuccessful, so we drank at this super classy outdoor establishment, which meant my beer cost $2.50 instead of .50, and our pitcher of Kamikaze was $3. So the 3 of us drank alone and bonded, and wandered back to the hostel and drifted to bed around midnight.
Nearly 9 now, and we are getting picked up at 930 for our all-day cooking class, so I've got to get ready.
The girls are not getting up until 845. I would write a longer blog post, but the sun was shining on the computers and was rather hot, so I spent 8 to 830 reading a copy of the International Heral Tribune (global version of the NYTimes) in the shade. Nothing to report, just relaxing to peruse the business section.
Goooooooaaaaaaaal! Santos just scored on Cerro Porteno, which is very good for our friend Andre, who is from Brazil and is watching his club play in the South American Cup semifinal on the computer next to me.
***
The last 2 days and night we spent on a trek. I'll put a long post up on that later - everything we did we wrote down in Anna's journal. After we got back, we showered (dirtiest Anna and Sam had been in their life. Perhaps 2nd for me, behind my week in the Fl Keys w/ Boy Scouts, no showering for 5 days). I discovered that our hostel had a laundry machine, so we splurged on that (40B, or ~$1.30) and washed everything.
After laundry we struck out to explore the west side of the city. We got lost (a very confused schoolgirl gave us bad directions. Or she was trying to get ride of us and we interpreted it as directions), so we explored some of the SW side of the old city outside the walls, which was not very interesting. We were looking to get to Nimmanhaemin Road, which is near the university and supposedly hopping. We eventually got there, but the group was very grumpy* (we ate too late), so we dived into the first restaurant we saw. Unfortunately, we were unable to order vegetarian food, so Sam abandon us and ended up eating 2 doors over (they had tofu). Both restaurants were pretty legit. Ours had English on the menus, but our waiter most definitely did not understand a single thing we said, in English or attempted Thai. Sam's had no English, so she went with the more traditional "go to the kitchen and point at ingredients to construct your dinner" technique.
*Both Anna and Sam just stop talking when they get tired, hungry, etc. It's nice that they don't complain, but it also means I actually have to pay attention to them. Anna says it's a good learning experience for me.
After dinner we tried to find some bars. We were generally unsuccessful, so we drank at this super classy outdoor establishment, which meant my beer cost $2.50 instead of .50, and our pitcher of Kamikaze was $3. So the 3 of us drank alone and bonded, and wandered back to the hostel and drifted to bed around midnight.
Nearly 9 now, and we are getting picked up at 930 for our all-day cooking class, so I've got to get ready.
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