"Got a ticket for the long way 'round... One with the prettiest of views"

We've nearly lapped the globe headed "East to Alaska"-- perhaps the most epic of honeymoons. We started and ended our international travels with dear friends, made new friends along the way, and had some ridiculous adventures. 

Ten countries (USA, Ireland, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Nepal, Thailand, Myanmar, Indonesia), two weddings, one medevac, and many ferry, plane & train rides later, we are ready to go home, sit on the couch, and eat chips and salsa.

Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, we'll cross the International dateline into yesterday and be back in Alaska this afternoon.

Oktoberfest, Munich, Germany

The Alps, Lauterbrunnen Valley, Switzerland

Venice, Italy

View from the Parthenon, Athens, Greece

Santorini, Greece

Mt. Everest, from the Renjo La, Nepal

Koh Kood, Thailand

Shwedagon Paya, Yangon, Myanmar

Inle Lake, Myanmar

Bagan, Myanmar

Bali, Indonesia

Merry Christmas & Happy Galungan!

We really missed celebrating the Christmas holiday with family, eating our weight in Christmas cookies, and watching "A Christmas Story" marathon on TBS. However, we were able to live our own Christmas story here in Bali. They love roasting whole animals, so after a day of surfing we sat down to a feast of roast duck-- just like in A Christmas Story when they go to the Chinese restaurant after the neighbors dogs eat their turkey! 

This year, Christmas also fell in the middle of Galungan-- a big Balinese/Hindi holiday that happens every 210 days. At this time, it is believed that the ancestors visit and there are lots of preparations, decorations ceremonies, and offerings. The offerings are small dishes made from Palm leaves and filled with rice, flowers, peanuts, Ritz crackers, etc.

They are left at temples, on doorsteps, in the middle of the sidewalk, on rocks at the beach, wherever. Today is the tenth and last day of Galungan, Kaligen, and the ancestors head back to whence they came. Many more offerings are made and ceremonies held to see them off. The stray dogs love all the snacks left on the street-- just like the Bumpess' hounds love eating the neighbor's turkey. 

Want to surf Bali? Bring a Helmet.

The play by play:

Day One

It was raining when we woke up. Really raining. But we strapped our surfboards to the side of our scooter, donned our swimsuits and put on our motorcycle helmets. Riding motorcycles without every inch of your person covered with leather and Kevlar is about as smart as regular tobacco use, but the negative results are more abrupt. We justified our foolish behavior by the short ride to the wave.

Looking down from the bridge above, we could see some swell and a few people in the water. We took off our helmets and walked down a long stairway to the beach. As we walked passed some locals at the top of the steps, they waved at us and swung their arms towards the stairway, saying something we didn't understand. We kept walking--obviously the smart reaction to people's frantic gestures.

At the bottom of the stairs, we crossed the beach to the water already soaking wet, which made getting in the ocean all the easier. 

It was raining so hard that the nearby creek was pumping out brown water into the surf, and along with it all the debris from the street above. We paddled through trash and leaves and the rain drops struck the surface of the water so hard they splashed us in the face. Most tropical surf ads forget to feature paddling through cigarette butts, coke bottles and used band-aids.

People started getting out of the water. We paddled past them. Out where the waves were breaking, it was raining so hard you couldn't open your eyes all the way to see them coming.

We caught a few waves, but when the thunder started, we thought we should head in-- even we have limits, and apparently they coincide with possible electrocution. 

We paddled toward the beach as lightening flashed. Curiously, I noticed a waterfall on the small beach that I hadn't seen before. As I got closer, I realized it was the stairs we had just come down. Most of the beach had been eaten away by the creek (a local had grabbed our shoes before they were washed out to sea), and the stairway back to our scooter had become an intense brown waterfall, completely impassable for the gallons of water and debris pouring down from above. All this happened in less than 30 minutes. The locals' warning hand motions began to make sense.

Day Two

We made the same reckless scooter ride to the bridge overlooking the break. The surf was small and no one was surfing but a few people were swimming. We watched a few minutes, and a set came in.

 Just where the waves were breaking, a shark broke the surface of the water, thrashing around. A local standing next to us on the bridge started yelling at the people to get out of the water. We watched until the shark disappeared, then left-- "sharks" added to the limit list after "electrocution".

Day Three

We made the same ride, walked down the stairs, and as we came past the final landing before the beach, we realized a large crowd of people in white had gathered on the beach. Drumming began, incense was lit, and ducks were laid out for sacrifice. 

Forrest, always a welcome spectacle in Asia with his blond hair and alabaster skin, plowed with his board right through the center of the ceremony. When the worshippers saw plain, brown-haired me coming from behind, the blocked my way and shouted at me for interrupting their ceremony. I inched around the back of the crowd, waded through a creek to get away, and gave the ducks an empathetic look before paddling out to the rhythm of the drums.

We have seen more than our share of animal sacrifice on this world tour, but it apparently is not something that will stop us from surfing.

Indonesia Fruit Quiz

We've encountered some interesting fruits on our first days in Bali:

We thought this was a decoration in our hotel room, but it turns out to be edible & quite delicious. Snakeskin Fruit.

We don't know what this is, but it tastes like a cross between a pear and an apple. Papple.

Bonus round:

Lechee (or romboton), Guava, Dragonfruit, and ??? Any ideas for the one that looks like a cartoon from a Mario Bros game?

Bikes, Balloons & Thousands of Temples

Bagan, Myanmar is the site of over 3000 Buddhist temples. How did so many temples pop up in such a small town? Well, it used to a much bigger town, capital of a kingdom and home to about 200,000 people many many years ago. 

Back in 1000 AD (or so), they converted to Theravada Buddhism, but, being new to the religion, they didn't have any Buddha statues, texts, relics, or other good religious stuff. 

So, championing yet another of the world's "peaceful" religions, they got together an army, marched into the neighboring territory, and pillaged all the religious booty they could-- scripture, statues, even monks-- and brought it back to Bagan.

Buddhism has a caveat similar to "indulgences" of old Catholicism, wherein worshippers can secure "merit" towards better reincarnation by doing good deeds or building shrines or temples. One easy way to get merit that we have seen is to buy a caged bird (cages chokful of sparrows are at temple entrances) and set it free. Forrest points out that whoever put all the sparrows in the cage is either not a Buddhist, or is coming back as a frog.

This merit system likely contributed to over 3000 temples being built in Bagan between 1000-1300AD. The city that once surrounded them is long gone, leaving a vast plain of religious history. 

We have found rental bicycle a good way to tour the Myanmar countryside, and you can get a bike for a day for $1.50. Granted, the brakes probably won't work and the frame will probably be bent, but it's still a good deal. 

Visiting in and around the temples, you see many Buddha statues, many offerings and worshippers (a handful of the temples are still in use), and many spectacular views. You must take your shoes and socks off to get your feet appropriately filthy at each one. 

We were able to visit, tour & climb on about 10 temples by bicycle. But we wanted to see ALL the temples. 

At sunrise, we climbed into the basket of a red hot air balloon and sailed over the plain of thousands of temples at the mercy of the wind and the pilot's merit. The flight was graceful and spectacular-- She must have freed a few sparrows.

Inle Lake

After a 10-hour night bus to the north from Yangon, we shuffled into Nyaung-shwe in an early morning fog. This town is on the edge of a large lake/swamp where people live in houses on stilts and fish from long canoes. We checked into our hotel, pounded a few cups of Nescafé, and took to the streets to find a boat driver.

As soon as you get close to the water, men start hustling you to pick their boat. Our two selection criteria became: basic command of English, and sobriety. After agreeing to a price for a boatride with a man that met these rigorous standards, he shuffled us down to the water and put us in a boat with his 13-year-old son and an even younger deckhand and then waved goodbye. Classic bait and switch.

He probably should have been in school, but the 13-year-old, sporting a navy sweater vest as a captain's uniform, could really handle his 45+ foot canoe with a lawnmower engine.

We cruised the lake all day, exploring temples, monasteries, markets, and shops. The fisherman paddle their boats with a leg wrapped around an oar to free up their hands for the net.

We got back to town with the sunset and Captain Sweatervest even let Captain Forrest drive, though heavily supervised. Back at the docks, we paid the fee for our all-day, private tour: $17-- but we had to give the money to the captain's mom.

Crispy bills & chicken: first impressions of Myanmar

We've only been in Yangon, Myanmar (formerly known as Burma) for a day, but a lot of our conversations have focused on pristine money. Due to wildly fluctuating currency for the last few years, much of the economy has run on US dollars. But they have to be new and perfect. The kyat, Myanmar's currency, is widely used now, but many businesses still want dollars for bigger purchases (hotels, flight tickets, etc.) If your dollars are older than 2006, they are useless. If they are folded (even just in half), useless. If they are torn and have a "wheresgeorge.com" stamp on them, forget about it. This results in a strange and time consuming process of people from all different countries trying to procure pristine currency printed on the other side of the world... And then carrying them around very carefully.

Another thing this country has in common with the USA is they are another stubborn former British colony that now drives on the right side of the road. But they are surrounded by left side  driving countries. So all the vehicles here have steering wheels on the right. This is convenient for all the street side food stalls (every sidewalk is crammed with food vendors)- the drivers can just lean out, pick up some chicken, and keep on going.

Tourists are a relatively new beast here, and they are a difficult species to train. Many of the tourist sites are Buddist temples, and it is tremendously hot. In the temples, knees are very offensive, but hot tourists tend to wear shorts. The current solution is making them rent traditional local garb-- but only in exchange for crispy dollar bills.

The things they carry

How things get to the tourist lodges in the Everest region:

I have limited pictures on my phone, but some favorites were one Nepali carrying 10 cases of beer, one Nepali carrying 15 sheets of plywood, and one yak carrying any number of roller suitcases.

The Easy Life

It took days, due to airport closures for politics, then for weather, but we escaped Lukla, the end of our trek to Goyko Peak and over the Renjo Pass. Getting a ticket out of there was finally negotiated by giving someone on the street money, them going to an Internet cafe to purchase a coded air ticket, and then having us take a picture of the computer screen with our phone as proof for boarding. Somehow this worked.

Lukla is touted "the world's most dangerous airstrip." Hardly. They haven't had an accident since 2008 or so. In Alaska, we crack up planes every moose season just for the sake of saying someone went hunting. It is a steep mountain airstrip that looks tricky though.

Trekking around Everest is the Nepal version of going to Alaska on a cruise ship-- beautiful views with minimal local interaction. We were glad to escape.

We landed in Thailand to some serious relaxation and excellent food to replace a horrible diet of bland Trekkers' carbohydrates.

The food is so good, we took a cooking class to learn how to put more coconut milk in our lives. Our teacher got married a few months before we did in Cambodia--a traditional wedding. She showed us the pictures. She and the groom had FIFTEEN complete costume changes. We figured that we got off easy.

We travel everywhere by rental scooter, fueled by coke bottles along the roadside.

We asked for helmets when we rented the scooter. They said "don't worry, you will NEVER see the police" -- (we were more concerned about our heads). On our first day riding, the police stopped us and asked where our helmets were. We shrugged. He walked around the back to write down our license plate-- we didn't have one of those either! It was the cops turn to shrug-- no license plate, no ticket?

We scooted away. Mexicans in Arizona have gone to jail for lesser crimes.

Thailand is that chill. The worst food we've found was a kidney bean popsicle, and even that was surprisingly edible. It's rained everyday, but we still have sunburns. The people smile and laugh constantly, and the air at sea level is oxygen saturated. After Nepal, this is cruisey.

Nike Frees exceed 17,000' expectations

Many doubted that this was the right shoe for the job, but after a 5360m summit and a 5360m pass, naysayers have been quieted. 

Only a couple repairs with thread and Aquaseal were necessary over three weeks of mountain trekking, and they held strong. 

Apparently, a pound on the foot is worth four on the back. I would love to report that this relative weightlessness made me fly up the hills, but it was more of a gasping-for-oxygen trudge.

Off to Lukla

This is all we're taking for a 12 day trek near Mount Everest.

Forrest is worried about cold.

I am worried about altitude.

I'm sure my mom is just worried.

The travel agent booked us a flight into Lukla on a "new airline." He told us this like a good thing. The Lukla airstrip is very short & very high. I don't want the company with the perfect safety record that has only made two lucky flights.

Bill's surgery went well, so we will be lucky too.

The Flip Flop Ambulance

We took a long 3-day trek to Khaptad National Park. Day 1 was 9.5 hours of mostly uphill, mountainous hiking. Day 2 was 8 hours of mostly uphill hike to a high grassy meadow with Himilayan views. Day 3, we intended to hike all the way down.

We made it to our lunch stop (our overnight from Day 1) in 5 hours. But shortly after lunch, our friend Bill took a nasty fall downhill into a creek bed. His head was bloody and he couldn't walk because of hip pain. 

His wife Judy is an MD, his daughter Saanti is a wilderness first responder, and Forrest and I are EMTs... So he had a decent team at his disposal. We sent the Nepali that was with us back to the lunch village for help. Judy dressed his head wound and the 5 of us lift-carried him out of the creek. Forrest directed the building of a makeshift stretcher on the trail, but before we were ready, the Nepali, Arjun, had returned with 4 boys in flip flops and a cobweb covered stretcher probably left at the village by an NGO.

We secured Bill to the stretcher and the flip flip team lifted him onto their shoulders and took off at a pace we could hardly maintain. We figured we were 3-4 hours from the nearest road.

We raced up and down the mountain trails, along rice terraces, and thru creeks. At a particular steep river crossing, all the boys lost their flip flops as they scrambled up a muddy hill, Bill teetering on their shoulders. The flip flops were collected, rinsed, and they stepped back into them on the move.

We gave the boys our little bit of water and food on their few breaks. Bill hardly complained, though obviously in pain. We raced to keep up. It got dark. They went on.

We reached a friend by phone, who arranged a jeep waiting at the road. The flip flip ambulance made it there in 2 hours and 45 minutes. Bill was at the hospital in Balyapata, where we had started our hike 3 days earlier, 5 hours from injury-- a truly amazing feat for a fully stocked, state-of-the-art EMT squad, unbelievable for boys in flip flops.

Bill's X-Ray showed a severly fractured pelvis that needs immediate surgery.

They sent him and his family to Kathmandu by helicopter. Always the critical pilot, I was nervous for his flight, but the pilot that showed up was the one from "Into Thin Air"-- who rescued all those climbers off Mount Everest. He's the best mountain pilot in Nepal, and this country is the Capitol of mountain flying.

If he's half as good as the village boys in flip flops, Bill's in good hands.

Forrest is shopping for travel insurance.

The Maylah

We were staying with a family in Ridicot for a big annual festival. We never really understood exactly what was being celebrated. The only snippet of explanation we got was that a king demanded food taxes long ago.

The celebration consisted of all the villages in the area bringing a male water buffalo to sacrifice. The bulls are painted and festooned and surrounded by teenage and twenty-something boys prodding them down the trail. Each bull team brings a "cutter" with them who wields a sharp scythe.

From miles and miles, the bulls are driven to an appointed area in the mountains of terraced fields, some of them collapse along the way and the boys beat them with sticks to goad them on. 

The execution site is full of people in their best saris and clothes. Food tents and other carnival fare set up. The treats for sale are oranges, peanuts & fried sugar.

At a seemingly random time, the boys all burst into a frenzied chase of the bulls, and the cutters then hack off the bulls heads.

It's a very colorful gory chaos. Kind of a Hindi "Lord of the Flies." The vegetarian we ha with us had harsher words.

My dad would hate Nepal

Well, he would. He likes golf courses & drinks with umbrellas.

Here, they don't use silverware or toilet paper. Running water and ice are not even dreams. It is hard to make a good cocktail without those amenities.

We are staying with friends of friends in rural western Nepal. It took a 2 hour flight, 10 hour jeep ride, and lots of walking to get here.

The people are really friendly & really tough. They hike up and down steep hills in sandals & cook over fires. From sunrise to set, constant labor is required just to get food on plates and do it again.

We met a guy named Him. The word for cow is "guy", the word for milk is "dude." We had a lot of fun making sentences like, "Ask Him to get dude from the guy." And then laughing hysterically. 

Meanwhile, Him mustered all his English to ask, "your marriage-- love or arranged?" Him's was arranged. Most marriages here are.

We eat a lot. Everyone's way of welcoming is to feed & feed & feed. We have learned the words for "half", "enough", and "I'm full." There are many rules for who can share food, and critical errors can be made passing from plate to the wrong plate. Mothers can touch the same food as their daughters, but daughters can not touch their father's food. Husband and wife can share, but not friends. There is no "family style" serving, and you eat the whole pile that's put in front of you.

We also drink a lot of chai, which is tea with "dude." Often at tea shops like this:

The water here is not potable, but we got a "Steripen" as a wedding present. It may sound like a birth control device, but it's a cool UV light you can stick in water to sterilize it. We just need adequate battiries. The local kids think it's a laser light show.
You have to take your shoes off to go into people's homes. You have to take your shoes off to go into my mom's home as well, so my dad would be used to that, but here the floor's of people's homes are made of dirt.When you take your shoes off to walk on a dirt floor, the insides of your shoes get dirty.

We have seen a completely untouristed side of Nepal. Forrest got girardia, which my dad would also not find cool, but luckily we are traveling with a doctor & she squared him away. 

We may not travel like my dad, but an umbrella drink is starting to sound pretty great.