the road goes on forever

Up the river without a paddle

2012-02-02T21:43:00.000+01:00

Day 9 of our trip found us up early and walking on the beach back to the docks in Livingston. The rain had stopped and the sun was coming up...back on the road...errrr beach

Mike taking in the morning air

Team Hare, still in the lead.

Currently, in our contest to visit every country in the world, I am in the lead, so Mike has been referencing the Tortoise and the Hare. He even had shirts made...very clever Kennedy. As I pointed out, thats just a fable...in real life the hare always wins, turtles are fucking slow.

We got into town and sat down for a quick breakfast of coffee, eggs and poop.

Ok, its actually coffee, eggs and beans...not poop...and it was surprisingly delicious.

Then we hustled down to the dock to catch a 930am boat up the Rio Dulce (Sweet River).

We took the boat about 20 miles up the river to the town of Fronteras. Along the way we passed locals paddling their cayucos, many bringing goods to market, as well as some pretty impressive scenery.

6 miles of the trip was in a gorge with 300ft high sides covered with exotic trees like mahogany and teak.

Our boat had some other tourists on it as well...like the German guy in the background who was apparently chilly....lol.

We had been looking forward to this part of the trip as a highlight....and it was.

...a boat ride up a river into Guatemala...derrrrrrr ok!

Eventually, the river opened up into El Golfete, a long narrow lake.

It was a nice trip. You can take other slower touristy boats up the river, but 2 hours was plenty. Besides we had places to go!

The plan was to get to Fronteras catch a local bus, a chicken bus as tourists call them, to Flores in the North of Guatemala. Buses usually stop in Fronteras every hour or so. Unfortunately, they were always full, so we ended up waiting around for ever. We opted to buy tickets on the more expensive ($10) express bus that runs from Guatemala City throu Fronteras at 2:30pm, on its way to Flores. Of course the bus didn't arrive until 430pm, but our long ordeal was over...and we were on our way to Flores.

I slept for 1 hour of the 5 hour ride, and then the guy sitting next to me struck up a conversation...in Spanish. It was difficult at first, as he had no English at all, but after a while, we both got really into it. I broke out my books and we were able to communicate quiet well. We talked/signed/gestured for the better part of 2 hours, which ate up a good portion of the trip. This trip was getting more interesting by the day!

Flores, Guatemala

Situated on an island in Lake Peten Itza, Flores was the home of last independent Mayan holdouts against the Spanish. It wasn't conquered until 1697!

Today Flores is small (population 13,000) and is mainly a tourist gateway to Tikal National Park further north.

We had the name of a local hostel, and had emailed them from Livingston, but had no confirmation of rooms. Luckily enough when we got there, our lovely host Maria had saved us two beds in one of the dorms.

Los Amigos Hostel in Flores....one of the best hostels I've ever stayed in....seriously.

Hostels these days are not just dorms full of beds. This one had a huge open courtyard common area.

It was a great place to hang out and meet people.

Its always great when the place your staying is a place you can hang out. In fact, lots of people from other hostels were coming to our hostel to hang out.

...and who better to hang out with than the Irish....they are everywhere!

We met Connor (above) and Kerryanne (below)....turns out Kerryanne is good friends with one of our good friends in Ireland, Rebecca! What are the chances of meeting up in Guatemala!

We of course had a good laugh, and immediately posted this picture to Rebeccas facebook page..."hey, hangin out in Guatemala with Kerryanne...see ya"

In addition to the great atmosphere and coincidental bumping into friends of friends....the hostel had amazing food!

Fruit, scrambled eggs with veggies, plantans and beans...and some strong coffee...yum yum

One night the dinner special was a Burrito...it should have said Burrito Gigante!

Ok hostel, its been great, but we didn't come all the way to Northern Guatemala for burritos..

We came for Tikal.

Tikal. One of the largest urban centers of pre-Columbian Mayan civilization.

A huge complex of thousands of structures, only a fraction of which have been excavated.

Mike and I walked around all morning, criss crossing the jungle and hitting all 6 of the major pyramids.

Very impressive Mayans, you industrious builders you.

The Grand Plaza is incredible...you cant help but picture what life must have been like here during the height of Mayan civilization 1500 years ago.

You could easily spend several days at Tikal...hell, you could spend a lifetime studying Tikal. It's amazing.

At its peak, a population of 75,000 to 90,000! Wow!

The big deal, literally, at Tikal is Temple 4...the tallest pyramid in the Americas. You can climb to the top via a wooden staircase built up the side. Its worth the climb. You can see the other pyramids poking out of the jungle canopy. Beautiful.

It was also one of the sets from the first Star Wars movie in 1977.

I found the Rebel Base on Yavin 4...its in Guatemala!

It was definitely a highlight of our trip. We were glad we made the extra effort to get to Tikal.

Just hiking through the jungle was great. I can't imagine hacking my way through it as a conquistador...no way Jose.

Sadly, we had to leaveTikal and get back to Flores....the next morning we had to hit the road again.

Stay tuned...next up, Belize!

Into the unknown

2012-01-30T14:59:00.000+01:00

Ok so now halfway through our trip, Mike and I had done the city thing, the beach thing, the nice hotel thing, the first class flight thing, the puddle jumper plane thing....but the second half of the trip had a bunch of new things...the biggest one was that we were now traveling without reservations most places, so we could be more flexible. The giant unknown....exciting, yet unnerving.

Honduras

We landed in San Pedro Sula in the late evening. For this portion of the trip, I had booked us at a homestay, basically just spending the night at a Honduran family's house for one night before we headed out overland towards Guatemala.

Our host, Luis, picked us up at the airport...in his van.

Get in the van!

Luis spoke good enough English, but like anyone else, he switched to Spanish once we showed we had a little and were interested to learn. Once again, we had someone rattling out info in Spanish while Mike and I scrambled to figure stuff out and coordinate with each other

Luis: (In Spanish) Blah blah blah blah blah blah blahdey blah

Mike: (whispering to me) ...something about a festival?

Chris: (whispering) Yes I think tomorrow? (looking up word in Spanish dictionary)

Luis: (In Spanish) Blah blah blah blah blah blah blahdey blah

Mike: I think he said he can take us to get some local food..

Chris: Oh, I thought he said they have good local food

Luis: (In Spanish) Blah blah blah blah blah blah blahdey blah

Mike: (whispering) Is he talking about his house?

Chris: (whispering) I thought he was talking about the Zoo?

Luis: Si?

Mike: Si!

Chris: You got it Amigo! (big thumbs up)

After a 20 minute ride in the back of the van through the dark deserted streets of San Pedro Sula, we got to Luis's home. Its the only Honduran home I have ever been in, so I have nothing to compare it too, but it was nice. They were very hospitable and pleasant.

Luis's son (cant remember his name) absolutely blew Mike's socks off with his knowledge of soccer. He knew EVERYTHING about Ireland's team, upcoming rankings, players, coaches etc...incredible.

We were starved, so Luis said we should walk down the street to find a place to eat. Turns out, he meant Mike and I...not all of us. So Mike and I go walking down a dark deserted street in the direction he pointed...mentally mapping our way home. Its about 9pm...its dark...we have no idea where we are....just then, we turn a corner...and BAM!

A shopping mall. (insert dissappointed noise)

Ok we werent that disappointed....there was a full blown, two level shopping mall. Not what I came to Honduras for exactly...but I was famished.

Then we saw the place we had to go eat...man, we had a good laugh over this one.

Waiter: Buenos Noches, Bienvenido a Applebee's. Mi nombre es Juan. Algo de beber?

Chris: Hola Juan...I'll have an Applebee's Golden Margarita please

Juan: Rocks or Frozen Senor?

Chris: Rocks, Thanks

Mike: I'll have a beer, whats your soup of the day?

Juan: Baked Potato

Mike: Great Thanks.

Juan: I'll be right back with your drinks

Mike: Man, Honduras is so different

Chris: Yeah, the food here is weeeiiiirrrrddd.

It was surreal. Now, of course, I have been to American restaurants abroad, but this one caught me by surprise...Applebee's in Honduras? C'mon!

To top off the surreal experience, one of the people at the only other group in the place was having a birthday....so they all sang happy brithday...including the waiters...fantastic.

After dinner, we went back to Luis's house and crashed. Our plan was to take a series of buses throughout the next day to get from San Pedro Sula to the Caribbean coast, then across the border into Guatemala, then to the port city of Puerto Barrios...but earlier Luis had told us, he knew where to get a bus directly to Puerto Barrios! Planning a bus trip in Central America online is impossible, as there in no central resource for timetables, so we were happy to find a direct bus.....except that it leaves early in the morning.

At 5am, Luis took us to a crappy, rinky dink bus terminal, talked to some people, negotiated a price and put us on a bus. I love it when a plan comes together!

So like thieves in the night, we arrived and left Honduras, never having seen the daytime. Mike would later joke that if anyone asked what Honduras was like he would say "Dark...all the time...perpetual night"...i added "...and they only eat Applebee's"

Guatemala

Guatemala was the destination I was looking forward to most. We had tentatively mapped out a crazy itinerary, and planned to do some cool stuff...but it was all shooting from the hip from here on out.

After a 6 hour bus ride, including an hour long stop at the border, our bus dropped us off about 15 miles from Puerto Barrios at a crossroads. Luckily, there was a cab hanging around, who offered to take us the rest of the way for just a few bucks. By midday, we were in Puerto Barrios and well ahead of schedule.

We were not done though. Our destination was Livingston, a small town up the coast at the mouth of the Rio Dulce river...it can only be reached by boat, so we paid for seats on a local boat that was leaving shortly.

It was gray and windy...and the seas were choppy.

After taking a 40 minute beating in the bumpy boat ride, we arrived in Livingston ready for action. Unfortunately, sleepy little town doesnt really describe Livingston accurately enough. Its actually a depressed area, that relies on tourists...and this wasn't tourist season so it was deeeeeeeeaaaaaaaadddddd. It is mainly populated by Garifuna (also known as Black Caribs...descendants of Caribs, Arawaks and West Africans) so the whole place has a more Caribbean feeling then Guatemalan.

We had made tentative reservations 2 days earlier at a place about a mile outside of town on the beach. The directions were to walk up the hill from the dock and keep going until you hit the beach, then head north on the beach for about 1.5km. We double checked with someone at a local shop and they said to make a left at the street at the top of the hill and follow that until you see a sign.

We should have gone straight to the beach. It was the same distance, but we walked smack dab through the ghetto underbelly of Livingston. No touristy stuff, no shops, just run down Carib shanty town. We got a lot of looks, and at one point three dudes walked out and blocked the road we were walking on (on purpose). Mike pulled out his knife and stabbed them all to death, so noone screwed with us after that.

Ok, actually we just walked around them...but Mike COULD have stabbed them.....although he was only carrying a swiss army knife, so it might have been with a corkscrew or a can opener.

Finally...after buses, cabs, boats and walking, we reached our first destination in Guatemala.

Flowas Bungalows

...5 or 6 raised Bungalows right on the waters edge.

...and as it was not tourist season, we had the whole place to ourselves.

Maria, the owner, couldn't find the key to the bungalow (I dont think she was actually expecting us to show up), so Mike and I both climbed up like monkeys and let ourselves in.

One bed and one hammock....perfect.

Mike and I sat down at the common area bungalow/cafe'/bar and relaxed after a long trip. We asked about food and Maria said we could order from the menu OR if we could wait an hour or so, one of the girls who works there could make us the local specialty, Tapado. She said it takes a while because the cook has to crack coconuts and who knows what else, but that it was worth the wait...and then added that the cook is VERY talented in the kitchen.

Of course, we said YES! We drank some beers and just hung out...with our new dog Carlos.

An hour later, dinner was served....I can honestly say, with no uncertainty, that this was one of the top 5 meals of my lifetime. It was so delicious. The picture does not do it justice.

I know what you are thinking..."huh? looks yucky!". Normally I don't choose fish on the bone with the skin etc, but I am usually pleased with it, regardless of the work to get to the meat.

First, Mike adeptly lead the way and de-boned his fish in 4-5 seconds. I followed suit. The meat really just fell off the bone. No problem. The sauce....I dont even know what the hell was in it besides coconut milk, herbs...maybe some broth? It was unbelievable. The plantains were semi-ripe so they were firm and just a hint of sweet...and then there were a load of shrimps and some potatoes. Garnished with cilantro...and boom! Delicious.

Freakin' fantastic.....best meal of the trip, hands down. No question.

Mikes bowl after dinner.

After we ate, we walked along the beach back into town to see what was going on...nothing apparently, so we walked back before dark...it was after all sketchy, even on the beach.

We sat back down at our table and just hung out...all night. It was very relaxing.

It could have been the rum that relaxed us...I honestly don't remember. :)

That night, Mike took the bed and I bundled up and slept in the hammock. Cool breeze, gently swaying hammock, belly full of coconut fish stew...and rum....life is good.

That night was the only night on our whole trip that it rained....it was nice in the hammock...until the rain started blowing in sideways at about 4am....

When Mike woke up at 7, I was sleeping next to him in the bed. He said "Hey!" I said "Good morning Warthog. I hope you don't mind, the Peacock was getting rained on in the hammock"

...stay tuned for day 2 in Guatemala.

P.S. I found someone else online who fell in love with Tapado in Livingston, and she posted a recipe!
http://scratch-cook.blogspot.com/2011/05/garifuna-tapado.html

The Warthog and the Peacock

2012-01-25T16:33:00.001+01:00

Good travel partners learn how not to get on each other's nerves, otherwise trips can go bad pretty quickly. Over the last 4 years, Mike and I have traveled together, and with others, around Ireland, Finland, Germany, Estonia, Austria, Slovakia, Cyprus, The Czech Republic and other places I'm sure I am forgetting.

This was our longest trip together alone and we learned alot. I learned that Mike doesn't wear socks. Mike learned that I don't like the fact that he doesn't wear socks.

As we were in close quarters and sharing a room, this exchange happened: (when reading exchanges between Mike and I, make sure you use an Irish accent for Mike's part...it makes it way better)

Mike: Oh boy, my dogs are barking (kicks off sneakers)

Chris: You know if you wear socks, and even change socks often, your feet wont stink like hot garbage.

Mike: Doesn't bother me

Chris: You are missing the point

Mike: Am I Chris?

Chris: This room is as big as a small closet...a small closet full of stinky Irish feet

Mike: Weren't you in the Army?

Chris: Yes, an Army that taught us to wear and change socks

Mike: I don't smell anything

Later in the trip, I learned that Mike can't walk in a straight line...drunk or sober. We had this exchange several times:

Mike: Hey look at that cool building (wanders into Chris)

Chris: Can you stop bumping into me, the road is 12 feet wide, how about you take that half

Mike: (ignores Chris) You hungry? Lets go into that shop and see if we can get some sandwiches (bumps into Chris)

Chris: Do you have some sort of inner ear / balance problem?

It was even worse when we had some drinks:

Mike: (bumps into Chris)

Chris: Jesus, will you get the hell off of me.

Mike: Stop bumping into me!

Chris: I'm gonna get you a fucking cane or something!

Mike: I'm gonna beat your face in with my new cane! (inadvertently bumps into Chris again)

Chris: You did it again, what the hell is wrong with you? Are those new shoes or something, keep your distance man! Watch your spacing!

Mike: Oh look, hot dogs!

Chris: Try not to knock over the hotdog cart

Mike: (pushes Chris into the hot dog cart)

Then there was the snoring. Now...I am a snorer. I make no excuses. Usually, its not that bad...unless I have had a few drinks. One night, Mike was sawing logs bigtime. Although I was able to sleep, the next day we had this exchange:

Chris: I'm gonna get you one of those sleep apnea masks for sleeping. I was concerned you were gonna die last night.

Mike: Let me get this straight..... you are complaining about MY snoring?

Chris: No...I am just concerned for your health

Mike: You must be joking

Chris: You know...between your smelly feet, your constant bumping into me and your snoring....I would liken traveling with you, to having a pet Warthog.

Mike: Is that right?

Chris: Yes...I was going to say water buffalo, but I now I think Warthog.

Mike: Well traveling with you is like traveling with a fucking Peacock...Look at me! I'm a fancy Peacock who always has to look good! The Peacock doesnt want to get dirty and looks down its beak at all the other animals.

Now I'm sure Mike has his own version of events, but he can write them on his blog. Either way, The Warthog and The Peacock were born. I can't tell you how many laughs we had over this. Whenever Mike was doing something I deemed warthogy, I would make piglike eating noises or act out my interpretation of a warthog trotting around a mudhole...and whenever he felt I was being peacocky, he would act out a peacock unfurling its feathers and make a really disturbing peacock noise.

Now back to the trip.....

We woke up New Years Day to find we were extremely hungover...go figure. We wandered out in the bright sunlight and across the street to a place we had eaten a few times over the last two days. Ivan, who runs the place had taken it upon himself to teach us Spanish by not letting us speak English and only speaking Spanish to us. Normally, this is exactly what we want and we encourage it. On New Years morning, I wasnt having it.

Ivan: Heyyyyy Amigos, Buenos Dias, Como Esta?

Chris: Coffee..........please (holding skull so it doesnt fall apart)

Ivan: En Espanol Amigo!

Chris: Ivan....get me some MotherF(Mike interrupts)

Mike: Dos Cafes por favor

After some coffee and huevos rancheros...we were felling somewhat better, but still pretty run down...and we had a long drive to Granada later in the day. Mike, in all of his infinite wisdom, came up with the perfect plan. We needed to get in the water.

New Years Day is a big family holiday in Nicaragua, the beach was packed with people. Everyone goes picnicing down at the beach. They are all enjoying themselves, kids are running around playing, families are chatting...and then the Warthog and the Peacock go trudging by, desperate to find hangover relief in the cold water of the Pacific.

Mike is indeed a genius. As soon as we got in the water, we felt better.

Then a wave knocked my sunglasses off and I was blind.

Granada, Nicaragua

We had hired a driver to take us to the historical, colonial city of Granada. It was a 2 hour ride and a good opportunity to catch a nap...unfortunately our driver had the same idea. So while Mike slept, I was on high alert and kept waking up our driver as he nodded off. Apparently we hadn't been the only ones up all night.

Just when you think that is bad enough, we get pulled over by the police at a road block. They get us out of the car, check our driver's papers. He looks visibly nervous. They ask for our passports...ask us if we speak Spanish, we say no. So they just keep looking at the passports and then looking at us. Then looking at the passports, talking among themselves, and then looking at us. Then they let us go, we were all happy.

Finally, we get to Granada.

Hello Volcano

Founded in 1524, it was the first European City in the mainland Americas. Its a popular tourist destination, but January is low season so it was pleasantly uncrowded. Mike had made arrangements to stay at a hotel run by an Irish guy. It was the nicest place we had stayed in so far on the trip. When Mike asked the owner Gerry how he liked living in Granada, he said "I have a pool in my kitchen, no complaints"

Gerry's "Hotel de Agua" in Granada

Mike and I wandered around town the rest of the day, and in the evening, met up with an old friend of Mike's for dinner.

Anna, Paola, Diogenes and Mike.

Nicaraguan Diogenes and Irish Mike had met while both doing a semester abroad in Vienna years and years ago, and haven't seen each other since. Through the magic of Facebook, we were all able to all meet up and spend a nice evening together. They talked about the old days, while I just marveled at little Paola who spent most of the time playing with her Mr. Potato Head...or as they call him, Senor Papas.

The next morning, Mike and I hired a horse and buggy guy to take us around town and see all the sights for a few hours.

The driver asked if we spoke Spanish, so we said yes, some. He rattled on for 3 hours at us in Spanish. Between Mike and I we were able to figure almost everything out. We were getting better at at-least understanding Spanish. Mike actually came prepared with quite a good amount of Spanish, where I was digging into the ancient brain archives from Spanish I studied 25 years ago. We made it work though and had a lot of fun. This would come into play later in the trip when we went more rural.

Granada is indeed very charming and interesting. We covered a lot of ground and got some interesting history lessons.

...but alas, we had to keep moving, we had a flight later that day to El Salvador! The part of the trip I was responsible for planning was beginning...and a lot of it was still up in the air.

Nicaragua? I thought we were in Costa Rica...where am I!

We got to the airport early and were pleasantly surprised to find out that because of my Silver Elite status with Continental, we had been upgraded to Business Class for our flight!

After being able to board first, the stewardess asked if we would like champagne or another beverage. Mike asked for OJ, I, of course, opted for Champagne.

Mike: OH! The Peacock will most certainly have champagne, so he can feel superior to the other animals boarding the plane! Dont forget to extend your pinky when drinking your fancy champagne Mr Peacock!

After a quick 50 minute flight, we were in El Salvador (country #4 on this trip). We had decided to skip through El Salvador in order to spend more time in Guatemala later on the trip, so this was just a 2 hour layover in the airport. We headed for the "VIP Lounge" available to first class passengers....it looked like a Denny's, but hey, free drinks.

Free beer in El Salvador

We boarded our flight to Honduras and got upgraded again!

The Warthog was very confused with all this luxury, but I assured him everything was ok.

Stay tuned for Part Three of our Central America adventure....next up, Honduras, Guatemala and Belize!

Two Amigos Conquer Central America

2012-01-20T14:57:00.002+01:00

The winter break from school provided me with an opportunity to take a trip. Irish travel buddy Mike Kennedy was already in NY for the holidays, so the opportunity went from "trip" to "ridiculous adventure" pretty quickly.

As many of you know, Mike and I are involved in a lifelong contest to visit every country on Earth. The idea of visiting just one country per trip is preposterous. Sometimes we go a little overboard....to prove the point, I present Exhibit A....a 13 day, 7 country race through Central America.

Panama

My flight got in before Mike's, so I was waiting for him when he came out of the airport. I had Van Halen "Panama" blasting from the speakers of my iPhone...and we started the adventure.

We had arranged for someone from the hostel to pick us up, so we eventually found a guy holding a sign with my name on it. The sign also had another name on it..... and thats how we met our first travel buddy of the trip, Etienne from Montreal. The 20 minute car ride gave us all a chance to introduce ourselves and make a plan for the evening.

Mike....beer...Panama

The "plan" wasn't very complicated.... "hey, the beers at the hostel are only a dollar!"...As it turns out, the hostel was great. Some hostels are quiet, some are not. This one was definitely geared towards hanging out. It had a huge backyard area with picnic tables and a giant fridge full of $1 beers. Our room was right off this area....kinda perfect.

Day one in Panama, complete. :)

The hostel provides free pancake batter and coffee in the morning for "all you can eat pancakes", but the pans they have are all crap so the pancake breakfast became more of a "pile of partially cooked pancake mess" breakfast.

Etienne and some other backpackers mauling their pancakes

On the advice of Matt Walsh (see Bangladesh, Singapore, Malaysia blog posts) Mike and I made our number one priority in Panama to see the Parque Nacional, the only rain forest inside the city limits of a capital city in the world.

So off we went....but wait! On the way out of the hostel we run into another guy, start chatting, ask him what his plans are....he has none....join us! So off we go, now a group of 4...AND guess where James is from? Montreal! TWO French Canadians! Watch out rainforest here we come.

Ok this is where the previous night's Panamanian beer bonanza doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore. Hiking, Heat, Hills.....damn you Panamanian beer.

Playing "Panama" in Panama's Parque Nacional Rain Forest with Crazy Canadian Etienne

We hiked around for 3 hours or so and covered all the trails in the park. We got to see lots of cool jungle-y stuff, loads of bugs and lost about 10 lbs in sweat!

It was a great start to the trip.

Panama City

My two favorite things about traveling are meeting new people and eating amazing food...and this trip had it all. That night the four of us went all out at a local restaurant.

Shrimp Ceviche

James and some yummy fish dish

Mike's dinner. Two fish fillets with seafood stuffing in between...gigantic

My barbecue chicken. Scrumptious.

We asked some people where to go for drinks and they said Rana Dorada....(thats Spanish for Golden Frog) and wouldnt ya know it, it was an Irish Pub! A perfect ending to a great stay in Panama.

The next day, we got up early and made our way to the airport. One country down, 6 to go.

Costa Rica

We arrived in San Jose around mid-day and as with Panama, had arranged for a lift from the airport. This hostel was a small family run place. Basically, they had converted the bedrooms in their house to dorms. Very well organized, they gave us loads of info, pointed us in the right direction and set us off on a day of exploring downtown San Jose. We had heard from many people, as well as read online, that San Jose is crap and you should only go there as necessary to connect to other places in Costa Rica.

To those people I say, you're missing out. It took Mike and I about 30 minutes to walk from our hostel to the central shopping area on Avenida Central. We cut through a park and got to see some different neighborhoods. The main pedestrian shopping street was very nice and modern and we got to pop into one of the must see sights of San Jose, The Mercado Central (Central Market) which has been around since 1880.

Its a maze like warren of passages that go from flea-markety to farmers market to small places to eat and back again.

Why eat fast food when traveling when you can sit in an old Costa Rican market and get some questionable quality local food!

We got two seats at the busiest food stall (always a good sign when its busy) and ordered what the locals were eating.

I had the fried chicken, rice, plantains, cole slaw, spicy noodles and spicy chutney stuff (above)

Mike had the spicy sausage, plantains and cole slaw (below)

It was all decent...and we didn't die...so a successful lunch experience.

After a quiet night, we got up super early to catch a flight.

For this leg of the journey, Mike had booked us on two puddle jumpers. One from San Jose to Liberia in northern Costa Rica, then another from Liberia to Managua, Nicaragua.

The planes were small, which is always fun. Our pilot got in with his flight book...and a sandwich. He started flipping switches and turning knobs, while the 20 year old co-pilot, gave us a somewhat awkward safety briefing. "Welcome aboard flight blah blah blah to Liberia. In the event of an emergency, we're all screwed because our plane is the size of a suburban...Good Luck!"

I was very tempted to say "Hey, can I land this puppy?"

The entire time I was thinking "So this plane is powered by one propeller in the nose? How does that work exactly"

Nicaragua

Country # 3 in 4 days, not bad. Nicaragua was going to be our longest stretch in one country, 3 nights. Mike had arranged for a shuttle bus to take us directly from the airport to San Juan del Sur, about 2 hours away on the Pacific coast. Its a small place but a popular destination for surfers.

It would turn out to be, possibly, my favorite stop on our trip.

San Juan del Sur is the perfect size place. It has restaurants, bars etc, but not too many...and they are small reasonable places, not over the top touristy megabars etc.

When booking our accommodations, Mike had inadvertently booked us at a Girls Surf School on the beach. As it turns out, there were no classes that week, and we were the only ones staying there. That could have been awkward!

It was right on the beach in town, which was very convenient to everything. The first day we walked around town, made friends with the guy who ran the bar/restaurant across the street and did lots of nothing.

It felt like we were more on vacation then blasting through 7 countries in 13 days. After already having covered so much ground in 4 days, it was nice to just relax.

Shrimp and Tomato yummyness

We ate LOADS of seafood...I mean, the sea IS right there!

The first of many lobsters we ate on this trip...$4!

As with everywhere else, we met other people traveling and had lots of laughs...and a few beers.

Day Two in San Juan del Sur also happened to be New Years Eve. Today's mission, frolicking in the surf like a couple of kids. It was really fun. We had a bunch of good laughs and then stuffed ourselves full of more seafood.

Clams, Clams and more Clams!

By 5pm we were stuffed and ready to ring in the New Year. We had heard from other travelers that there was a huge New Years rave being held on the beach about 30 mins north of town. Although that sounded like a once in a lifetime experience, maturity/reality chimed in with "how will we get there and back." and "ugh...sounds like a big to-do". We opted to stay in town and see if we could find a cool local place.

We still had 6 or 7 hours til midnight, so we decided to wander around and play it by ear. We headed away from the beach and were walking around when Mike spied an Irish flag and soccer jersey hanging in a very small bar, so we decided to head in and investigate.

...and so began New Years Eve.

We saddled up to the bar, ordered a couple of beers and met the owners of the bar, a couple of Americans from North Carolina, Cory and Mandy.

6 beers later, its like we were old friends and Mike and I had come to Nicaragua to visit them! A perfect place to celebrate New Years. Other Ex-Pats came and went throughout the night, Mike and I stayed parked at the bar allllllllll night. Cory had whipped up some fresh guacamole, we shot the shit all night long and had a really good time just hanging out.

Nice crunchy chips, guac and salsa...whats better? nothing!

A very good evening indeed.

Mike saying goodbye to 2011...i think the guy in the background was too?

The evening was chocked full of fun. At one point, some of their friends came in with a birthday cake for another friend. Cheap beer, delicious guacamole AND free birthday cake? This place is amazing!

They even had free champagne at midnight. New Years couldnt have worked out better (unless of course I had the Mrs. with me)

Republika Bar in San Juan del Sur...can't recommend it highly enough. Thanks Cory and Mandy!

...but wait, theres more!

Happy New Year!

Sitting at the same bar for 6 hours...we MIGHT have had too much to drink...but hey who cares, its New Years!

Stay tuned...more to come from Nicaragua and the rest of Central America.

Summer Road Trip (Part Two)

2011-12-27T07:25:00.000+01:00

It occurs to me that we did a blog post about the first part of our summer road trip, but never did part two!

Ok to review, Part One was Houston to New Orleans to Tampa to St Augustine to Ft Sumter (SC) to Fayetteville (NC)......next stop? Charlotte!

Ok well...turns out we didn't take any pictures in Charlotte...but we met up with friends Nancy and Sean...here's an older pic.

Because we didn't take any pictures, I forget exactly what we did...but I assume it involved drinking beer/wine and laughing.

Next stop was Greensboro to see Barry and his little angels Phoenix & Free. Once again, no pics...well, actually I got one......of Barry's house...

We were lucky enough to be visiting on the day of a school concert and not only got to see Free sing, but also got to see Barry's Mom as well!

Next stop was Baltimore for the NCAA Lacrosse Championships...although this year we didn't get tickets. We just stopped by to see all of our friends that go every year....and as was the theme for this road trip, we took no pictures. So here is what it would look like:

Next stop.. the Poconos!

Bear Lake....ancestral home of the Wight Clan...and one of my favorite places to go. Its not often I get to really relax....not for lack of opportunity of course, I just have a problem relaxing. The Lake gives you no other choice...it is forced relaxation.

The are chores to be done...but in true Lake form, they are laid back and pleasant. Like installing the dock for the summer.....

Me: I will hold this end down
Ned: I need you here in the water
Me: I'm not getting in that freezing water, I'll hold this end down.
Ned: I need you in the water
Me: I'll hold this end down

Other "chores" include.......

......making sure kids don't go floating off

.....sailing with Ned

....and taking the canoe out to look for beaver dams with Clayton

As always, it was a very pleasant weekend....Thank you Wights!

Next stop?

New York on Memorial Day.

Made all the usual stops, including interrupting my father's sun worshiping routine to give him a chicken salad sandwich the size of a football...look at that thing!

We also got to take the ultra convenient Long Island Rail Road.........

Kelly looks for the next train....

...and what New York trip would be complete without a visit to see the coolest niece.....

...and the coolest brother-in-law....

Stay tuned for part 3 of our Summer Road Trip, where we pick up a Leprechaun and bring him to see the King.

The Lizard King

2011-11-26T02:52:00.001+01:00

There's a photograph of Chris I wish I could share with you right now. It's the photo he sent to me after we met and had our summer fling back when dinosaurs walked the earth. He left New York for Germany, we exchanged letters, and photos and eventually....well...you know what happens. It was a good photo.

In the picture he has on a football jacket, you know the kind? With wool center panels and white leather arms. I think it was a Detroit Lions jacket, which makes no sense on a Long Island army boy living in Germany, but doesn't need to. It screamed youth and virility.

He's wearing a baseball cap, brim curved as if he'd been carrying it around in his back pocket. There's a lock of thick black hair escaping out the front. His cheekbones are high and sharp enough to cut glass with. And those damned eyes. Big, blue and sparkling; eyelashes so long and thick you'd swear he's wearing mascara. You can just tell those eyes are going to get you into trouble of the best kind.

On the back was written me at Jim Morrison's grave / Paris

And that phrase carried more weight than all the sparkling eyes on earth. Those words meant worlds to the young music-loving, pot-head, rocker-chick, hair-bag girl that I was. Jim Morrison! Grave! Paris!

Months later, after the eyes had done all the hard work and we'd been dating for a while, I heard the story of Jim Morrison's grave. If you know my husband at all you won't be surprised when I say I've heard it many times since and each time it's a little different. But the essence remains the same, and it's a good story. Not a narrative so much as a tableau.

Père Lachaise cemetery - historic and beautiful, filled with elegant mausoleums. Paris's boldest and brightest have been buried here for centuries. Artists, poets and composers lie in repose amid stone sculpture and statuary elegant enough to made you weep.

And 28 year old Jim Morrison rests among them, in a grave donated by an adoring fan after an overdose in the city of lights back in the year of my birth (about the time of the primordial sludge if you're building a time-line.) Visiting the cemetery as a young man, Chris found hippies, rockers, stoners and would-be poets treating it as a pilgrimage site.

Arrows and signs saying "this way to Jim" had been spray painted on paths, benches and even tombs. The grave itself was a scene of such adoration and debauchery as to boggle the mind. People were turning on, tuning in and dropping out. Barefoot and dirty twenty-somethings strummed guitars. Dreadlocked sleepy-eyed youngsters making out amid sleeping bags, bongs and bongos. A grizzled hippie took swigs on a bottle of whiskey, then poured matching shots into the grave's soil. "One for me, and one for you, Jim." Cigarettes and joints left lit and smoking as a token of love, and plenty more being toked among the living. Used needles and condoms. In one version of the story a guy even dies of an overdose. RIGHT THERE.

The misguided mourning of a dead-before-his-time artist turned into a 20th century bacchanalia.

Needlessly destructive? Yes. Horrifyingly disrespectful of a Paris icon? Yes.

Screaming of sex, drugs & rock n roll? Abso-friggin-lutely.

I envied Chris the experience of witnessing bohemianism at its best and worst, in Paris.

According to Time-Out Paris, today Morrison's grave is the third most visited site in Paris, behind only the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. I found this both intriguing and unbelievable. Regardless, curiosity would have drawn me there sooner or later and on our most recent trip to Paris we decided to check it out. And while I would never condone spray painting a headstone to give directions, I was kinda hoping to find at least a slice of the depraved flower child vibe Chris's stories evoked.

I did not. It was all tour groups and barricades. The grave itself feels like an afterthought squeezed onto a patch of ground at an awkward angle, draped in tawdry plastic flowers.

It had a decidedly UN rock n roll vibe. There was one very somber beatnik-y girl looking deep and forlorn; I held out hope she'd have a breakdown, recite some poetry or at least light a joint. But she just sat at the base of the graffitti'd tree and stared intensely at the grave for a long time, leaving only as the next noisy tour group arrived.

Still, I can't say I was disappointed. The tree provided plenty of entertaining reading, for one thing. The cemetery itself is breathtaking and it did kinda feel like hallowed ground. Yeah, Jim Morrison is buried there, but so are Chopin, Edith Piaf and Proust. The final resting place of Oscar Wilde and Marcel Marceau among countless others.

Visiting Père Lachaise felt a bit like we were paying them all tribute.

And now I'm going to pour myself a whiskey, maybe one for Jim as well, and then hunt around for that photo of Chris. G'night.

k.

Europe's best kept secret.... Belgrade!

2011-11-18T02:17:00.000+01:00

Београд - Beograd - Belgrade

Battled over in 115 wars and razed to the ground 44 times, it is one of the most battled over cities in the history of the world.

Now Belgrade is the capital of a Serbia that is at peace with its neighbors. Formerly part of Yugoslavia, Serbia gained independence in 2006 (via a long, sometimes violent, road from the Yugoslavian breakup in 1991)

Todays Belgrade is a surprisingly cosmopolitan and modern city reminiscent of larger Western cities.

...and now they have lacrosse!

I was in town on behalf of the European Lacrosse Federation to help run 3 days of lacrosse clinics and scrimmages. The local team, The Zombies, did a great job of organizing everything including social events and showing us around Belgrade.

Probably my favorite thing about doing these kind of trips is getting to hang out with local lacrosse guys and learn about their culture. Not in the academic sense, more in the sitting around drinking beer and getting to know them sense.

"Chris, we want to take you to a traditional Serbian tavern....they will have good Serbian folk music, Serbian beer and very strong rakia"...lead on new Serbian friends, lead on....

It was a great weekend. Belgrade is a wonderful city and I had a fantastic time. This is exactly why I travel.

The weather was beautiful. I got to experience Belgrade with new Serbian friends, eat Serbian food, sing Serbian songs (never really got that part down) and even got to teach some lacrosse.

The Zombies have the lacrosse bug and are a great addition to the lacrosse community. I hope to visit them all again someday.

Ziveli!

Food Glorious Food.

2011-11-03T08:00:00.006+01:00

Possibly the best thing about traveling is the food. I try to take pictures of many meals when I travel to inspire cooking when I get back, but mainly just so I don't forget the great food experiences I have had. Here are a few from this past year.

Bratislava, Slovakia. Chicken stuffed with ham and half a peach! I think it was called Maiden in the Castle...or something....serve with cold Slovakian beer....delicious!

Bangkok, Thailand. Some sort of meat...possibly beef or pork...with sprouts and other green stuff in a spicy broth....cold Singha beer to cool burning mouth.

Cairo, Egypt. A tub of Koshari from a take out place. Pasta, rice, lentils, tomato, garlic, beans, chick peas. Hearty, cheap and delicious.

Dhaka, Bangladesh. (Clockwise from top) Spicy yellow stuff, Super spicy unidentified meat stuff, Ridiculously spicy poultry item, Dangerously spicy unidentified meat stuff #2. I am sweating just remembering this meal.

Houston, Texas USA. Open faced Roast Beef sandwich, Onion Rings, Pickle, Coleslaw....Guinness. (notice how Kelly has a healthier salad....good job Kelser)

Penang, Malaysia. My favorite lunch of the entire summer. I don't think the picture does it justice, but this roast pork, green stuff and rice was so simple, yet incredibly delicious. Fanfreakintastic.

St. Petersburg, Florida USA. American style breakfast:. Eggs, Bacon, loaded up hash brown potatoes and an English muffin....washed down with coffee.

Singapore. Fried Pork Dumplings. Beer. Enough said.

St Augustine, Florida USA. My mother's homemade tomato gravy over pasta. Possibly the best stuff on Planet Earth.

Sumter, South Carolina USA. Erin's homemade southern yum yum food. Pulled Pork, Collard greens, Coleslaw, Cheesey grits, and Cornbread. paired with sweet white wine....an amazing meal.

Vienna, Austria. Ok maybe this isn't the best picture of Goulash that I have ever taken, BUT Gary & Inge's Gulasch is amazing and wonderful...wunderbar! (Cold Kaiser beer to round out the meal...of course)

Zurich, Switzerland. Ahhh lunch how I love thee so. This was a great lunch with cousin Michael at a nice outdoor cafe. Some sort of Pork Chop with Red Cabbage, Spaetzle, and Brussel sprouts....very good.

Vaduz, Liechtenstein. Steak with onions and mushrooms, potatoes, fried oniony things, veggies...Liechtensteinian beer....This sauce was fantastic. Its nice when you order some food in a place you have never been and you get something delicious. Thanks Liechtenstein!

Belgrade, Serbia. Most of Europe has late night Doner Kebab stands...but Belgrade had the most ginormous sandwiches I had ever seen. This picture doesnt do it justice, but it weighed over a pound...possibly two. It was ridiculous...and tasty. I ate maybe a third...maybe.

St Petersburg, FL USA. Kirk Smith's Homemade Corned Beef, Cabbage, Beets, Potatoes and Horseradish sauce....wash down with beer....Happy St Patrick's Day indeed!

Paris, France. Steak and Frites. Possibly the best meal of the year.

The famous restaurant L'Entrecote - Porte Maillot only serves one dish....a mouth watering ribeye cut of meat, fries and a special secret sauce that is utterly scrumptious. Unbelievable. Add a bottle of red wine and this meal is hard to beat.

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. —-Virginia Woolf

Quarante à Paris - Part Deux

2011-10-30T23:17:00.000+01:00

Paris for my birthday weekend, thanks to a lovely husband who excels at 'The Grand Romantic Gesture.'

Aren't they both terribly handsome?

What I like about Paris is, you can be walking around and think to yourself, "I know I've been in Notre Dame before, but I really can't remember what it looks like."

And then you can just pop in for like five minutes, remind yourself of its Gothic glory, take a few artsy shots...

...and then manipulate those shots on your iPhone while sitting in dappled sunlight at a nearby cafe drinking a lovely coffee. And when the waiter asks a question in French and the only words you catch are "password" and "WEEFEE" - say yes. Better yet, say oui. Because in Paris, Wi-Fi is pronounced WEEFEE. Which is another reason I love Paris. WEEFEE is much more fun to say than Wi-Fi. Right? Say if with me a few times ... WEEFEE ... WEEFEE ...WEEFEE!!

So you sip and manipulate and WEEFEE while also watching Parisian life stroll by in this little square. And these guys are sitting in front of you in their slim suits, smoking endless cigarettes and knocking back espressos, speaking rapid and unintelligible French, just looking and sounding incredibly GALLIC which charms you to no end because you are a bit of a Francophile. They couldn't be more French if they were wearing berets, eating garlicky snails and marching around with baguettes under their arms. There is nothing extraordinary about them, but they are woven into the fabric of this tableau that you are enjoying with your cafe au lait, and you love them for that.

And you know the Seine is just a few blocks away, spanned by an amazing array of bridges, one of which you recently crossed because you were wandering inside Notre Dame a short while ago. Bridges running the gamut from gilded over-the-top grandeur to simply functional, and each one captures your imagination for a different reason. As does almost everything else in Paris. Don't you just love a river running through the middle of a city?

And Paris excels at making the Seine personable and approachable - which is another thing to love about her.

But I guess you get the point. I love Paris and will never stop finding reasons to do so, nor do I want to. Maybe I should tell you a little bit more about our trip?

Let's start with our bff's for the weekend, Matt & Elodie. Maybe you remember them from Bangladesh? Anyway, they drove up from Lyons to help us celebrate. Wasn't that sweet? And aren't they adorable?

Chris and I tried to match their adorableness - but I'm not sure we made it. They set the bar pretty high, these kids. We started at Le Fumoir, a restaurant near the Louvre, for drinks and nibbles.

We met friends, we strolled, we saw cool doors.

We enjoyed the Paris vibe in Passage Molière, a charming, quiet little alley somewhere between the 1st and 3rd arrondissements. Home to The House of Poetry, a few shops and a marvelous place to sit,

enjoy wine,

take more artsy photos,

enjoy more wine,

~~gorge~~ nibble on meats and stinky cheeses

and make fun of Matt's choice of footwear.

There was also dancing at a West African bar, an Irish pub, some metro rides, a torturous late night taxi search as well as a fruitless quest for still more food. But to be honest both the photos and my memories get a little blurry after the footwear so that's the image I'll leave you with. A long day, a late night, new friends, a lot of fun and we still have two more full days to enjoy in Paris. So stay tuned, we still have dead rock stars to meet.

-k.

Quarante à Paris

2011-10-24T04:50:00.000+02:00

Who's got the best husband in the world? Moi! That's who.

My husband Christian, a man of many fine qualities, has never been known as a good keeper of surprises. For example, at 11am on December 13th, 1994, he purchased a ring with the intention of proposing to me twelve days later, on Christmas morning. By 9pm on the night of December 13th we were engaged. Come to think of it, in twenty years, we have not once woken up on Christmas morning to an unwrapped present under the tree.

Once we made it to December 24th, but that was a fluke.

So the man gets big props for planning and executing a birthday trip that remained a surprise until the moment of departure, when the lady at the airport check-in desk asked "What's your destination today?" and he answered "Paris." At which point there was much jumping up and down and joyful squealing on my part.

For weeks he's been leaving fake leads and false clues. Notes saying "cancel donkey ride" and "book balloon trip" casually left on the table. Learn to Speak Spanish books lying around. Computer screens have been left open to "Grand Canyon Tour" and "Bahamian Cruise Line" pages. Each day he asked me if the Nevada tourism board had returned his call or if we'd gotten anything from Costa Rican Jungle Tours in the mail.

He nearly broke one Saturday afternoon over Mexican food and margaritas, "Tell me now if you know because I am dying to talk about it." But keep the secret he did and I have to say I enjoyed the buildup almost as much as the surprise itself. And his patience paid off - I had no time to fret about travel plans and was walking on cloud nine the whole weekend. We're still operating under the "he can do no wrong" policy.

But enough about him...let's talk about Paris!!

Chris and I usually travel as cheaply as possible, which includes staying at hostels. But when you turn 40 you deserve a little something special.

Which meant this charming boutique hotel. The tony Hôtel L'Addresse. Ooh la la! Our room was a chocolaty little gem on the top floor, known as the Chocolate Satin Room. Sigh.

Small by some standards, spacious by Paris's. And look! Luxe bathrobes on the bed! And a window we could fling open wide to look out over rooftops! And what else could we see out that window?

The Eiffel Tower! Sure, just the tip, but with something so beautiful, the tip is enough.

Especially when you could see the tip all lit up and sparkling every hour. Hôtel L'Addresse is in Paris's swanky 17th arrondissement (or district) just down the street from....

The Arc de Triomphe! BAM! Just like that, within minutes of arriving at our home for the weekend, we've seen and mentally hugged two of Paris's icons. Let's get moving!

The 17th (and neighboring 8th with its Champs Elysee) arrondissements are lovely, genteel neighborhoods for strolling.

And even nicer, there was a Metro stop just around the corner, on a main line, for easy access to the rest of the city. Much like New York, Paris is a city that never runs out of faces and personalities to show you. So stay tuned for Quarante a Paris - Part Deux in which our heroine meets an international man of mystery, a smart French woman with a big heart, three tipsy Musketeers and a dead rock star.

-k.

Vienna and Zurich

2011-10-09T22:05:00.000+02:00

One bad thing about living in Houston (as opposed to New York) is that I can't fly direct to Vienna....boooooo connecting flights!

Looking down at Austria....Hallo Osterreich!

To start the trip, I flew from Houston to Amsterdam...then from Amsterdam to Vienna....ahhhhh home!

I didn't waste anytime getting back into the groove either. Richi picked me up at the airport, we hung out at his house (my home away from home in Vienna), then we went out to Schloss Neugabaude.

Schloss Neugabaude is a mid-16th century imperial hunting lodge/castle within walking distance to Richi and Anita's house. Kelly and I have been there many times with R and A....there is a great beer garden and good food!

Richi and I had some chicken, potato salad, cabbage and beer....we caught up and discussed our plans for the weekend. A great first night in Vienna.

...did I mention September is also the Sturm season? Oh yes....young wine, rapidly fermenting giving it a slight carbonation.......yummy. Nothing goes better with hearty, rich or savory food like a cool mug of Sturm!

Over the weekend, I had National Team camp, got to see a lot of old friends and, as expected, I spent a good bit of time at the pub of friends Gary and Inge.

On Sunday night, I hopped the overnight train for stop #2.... Zurich!

Its been a year or more since I have visited cousin Michael, Gabi and the kids, so I was looking forward to this leg of my trip.

As everyone knows, they are no fun and very, very boring.

I spent 3 days with the Swiss Haltigans enjoying every minute of their company. I always enjoy sitting and chatting with Michael and Gabi....and eating all the good things coming out of their kitchen.

...and of course, playing with the kids...holy cuteness with their little swiss accents.

Michael and I got to spend a lot of time together which was nice.

Goodbye Zurich and Swiss Haltigans...hope to see you soon!

Next up were two countries I had never been to! Stay tuned.

Vienna

2011-09-12T08:42:00.000+02:00

Its no secret that Vienna is one of my favorite (quite possibly my favorite) places in the whole world. The year that Kelly and I spent in Vienna was a wonderful year full of great memories.

After 2 weeks of traveling through SE Asia and then a few days in Egypt, I couldn't wait to get "home" to Vienna.

Our good friend Richi met me at the airport and took me back to his apartment where I would be staying. Anita was at work, but she had made chili for me...isn't she the best?

(Warning: This post will contain many pictures of food...and many blurry pictures of people...you have been warned.)

Ok so, as if I needed more reasons to look forward to my Vienna trip....my bestest buddy Clayton flew in from Florida on day 2.....let the tomfoolery, horseplay and shenanigans begin!

Richi and Anita are awesome. Clayton and I had planned on staying at a hostel with friends Mike and Barbara, but when the hostel screwed up the reservation, we had to impose on Richi and Anita for a few nights.

They didn't seem to care at all...in fact, they cooked every night...

...and broke out the board games

Clayton and I were in Austria to coach for National Team weekend but we planned a lot of sightseeing for the other 4 days.

......then we decided we should probably stay in the hostel right around the corner from our favorite pub in Vienna....in fact, our favorite pub on Planet Earth.......Gary and Inge's.

Clayton and Gary

It was great to see our favorite pub hosts....but as it turned out, we spent WAY too much time there. In fact, the duration of our trip became a food and beer fest....I suppose it didn't help that all of our local friends were happy to hang out at Gary and Inge's as well...in fact, they were way too happy!

Stefan, Nicole, Gary, Henning, Peter, Melanie, Inge, Chris and Clayton....what a crew!

Always good to hang out with Stefan and Nicole...who as we know, will go to any party...anywhere...anytime...

Peter and Melanie....these two are perfect for each other. She might even be crazier than him!

New team manager and Old team manager.....

This crew can only accomplish one thing...mayhem.

Having a hostel right next door didn't encourage any sort of discipline...thats for sure.

We did learn many valuable lessons though...

We're not as young as we used to be.

Holy Crap...is this trip over yet, I feel like Keith Richards near the end of a Stones tour.

I might be exaggerating. We did actually squeeze in plenty of sightseeing.

View of the Hofburg from the Graben

We walked around the inner city...and we sat around the inner city.

We explored all the fancy buildings inside and around the Ringstrasse

We ate....alot.

Lunch at the Naschmarkt

Roast Pork with Dumpling and a giant Schnitzel

Clayton full....owwww my belly.

We stopped at the Kangaruh pub for some delicious Floris Honey beer...so sweet, so delicious!

...and, of course, we hung out with all the local lacrosse wackos as much as possible.

Clayton likes schnitzel and beer....alot.

Peter loves anything and everything American...he drives a Suburban and eats wings by the platter.

It was a fantastic week long vacation in Vienna.....and I, as usual, can't wait to go back.

Only one more stop on the summer trip....next up? DUBLIN!

The Capital of the Arab World

2011-09-07T22:48:00.000+02:00

Cairo.

A name that conjures up visions of spice filled markets, minarets, mosques and pyramids. A civilization with a history as long as any other on Earth. Just thinking about going to Egypt overwhelms the senses...The Nile, pharoahs, sphinxes, mummies....

Throw in a good amount of nervousness and caution about visiting a country in the midst of a revolution, with no government in office...and you get one hell of a lot to think about.

....but with plane tickets at a third of their usual prices, screw caution!....off to Egypt I went!

View of Cairo from the hostel

I arrived on an early flight from Bangkok and was very happy to find a driver from my hostel waiting for me. The last thing I wanted to do after a long flight, was figure out how to get downtown in a city of 17 million people...in 100+ degree heat.

I picked the Wake Up Cairo hostel partly due to its unbeatable location downtown across the street from the Egyptian Museum, partly due to its extremely reasonable rates, and mostly due to the reviews I read online.

I have stayed in a LOT of hostels....everywhere from Denmark to Malaysia...but I have never read such glowing reviews of a hostel. They all said the same thing. At first look the building is pretty run down, its in a great location and the staff are the best in the world.

Really? Well...I'll be the judge of that!

View of the Nile from the hostel

So I get to the hostel, and the first thing I think is "What a shithole of a building", a 15 story or so old high rise near the Nile. As I read online, the elevator feels like an amusement park ride that is gonna snap off the cable and plummet to the basement at any second.

I get off the elevator at the 10th floor, walk into the hostel and am immediately smacked in the face by super over the top but genuine friendliness. My room wasn't ready, would I like to take some tea in the common room? Why sure. Thats where I snapped the pictures above from.

For the next 3 days, I had excellent conversations with some of the warmest, most sincere and nicest people I have encountered anywhere. They couldn't have been more helpful. Places to eat, cautions on scams, arranging sightseeing.

One night I was in the lounge by myself (the hostel was pretty empty due to the lack of tourists since the revolution) when the owner came in with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. We sat, chatted and had an all around nice evening.

I could go on and on about all of the staff...I just wish I had thought to take pictures!

My first day out in Cairo was a basic reconnoitering of my surroundings and a quick trip through the Egyptian Museum. If you have ever seen a display of Egyptian artifacts, multiply that by 1000 and thats what this Museum looks like.

After hours of mindnumbing ancient Egyptian info in the stuffy museum (no air conditioning, really Egyptian Museum...really?) I asked one of the guys at the hostel for a lunch recommendation. As usual, he came through with a gem. He sent me on a small adventure down the street with a note written in Arabic to a place that sells only Koshari.

Koshari is probably the most popular and common dish in Egypt. Its cheap and available all over the place. Its a mix of rice, macaroni, chick peas, lentils, spciy tomato sauce, garlic, and vinegar.

So I walk into this place, that only sells Koshari, with a note that says "Koshari" and the name of the place. Noone speaks English and it basically looks like a group of 40 guys trying to rob the place. It turns out, you pay at the register (which I did, 30 cents or something crazy), then take your recepit to the counter and bully your way to the front, yell and scream and wave your receipt until someone hands you a container of Koshari.

I watched for a moment...picked my spot, then dove in using a combination of the element of surprise, my superior size and the fact that everyone was looking at me like "What the hell is he doing here"

Victory was mine!

Luckily, the dude at the hostel had warned me about the fiery sauce that comes on the side..and suggested that I might not want to dump it in. I tasted the sauce and agreed with him....that sauce is now forever nicknamed the Fiery Sauce from Satan's Underpants...no way was I eating that stuff...no way.

After lunch, I made a trip down to Tahrir Square, the center of the revolution and site of constant protests, which was only a short walk from the hostel. At the square I was immediately confronted by civilian "security" guys...young guys making sure no police or spies slip into the square. After a tense minute or two of them demanding my passport, I made a graceful exit and went back to the hostel. Once again, the helpful staff explained the whole deal to me, and said it is ok to show them my passport and even offered to take me down there.

Undeterred and now emboldened, I went back to the square, showed the local toughs my passport and then wandered around the epicenter of the Egyptian Revolution. Complete mind bender...scary-ish, awesome, amazing, empowering...It was a great experience. Noone really hassled me and I knew better than to start snapping pics...so I just enjoyed being there.

Good for them. A great taste of history in the making.

On Day 2, I had arranged (for $25) a full day driving tour of the Pyramids at Giza and some outlying areas. My guide was Mohammed, who according to the hostel review forums is the coolest dude in all of Egypt.

They forums were right.

Mohammed....super cool Egyptian tour dude extraordinaire

So, heading out on a full day of driving and sightseeing with someone you don't know can be a full on disaster. It can easily ruin a trip. Getting in the car with Mohammed was like getting in a car with an old friend who was excited I finally got a chance to visit him in Cairo. He couldn't wait to show me around.

As soon as we started driving, he was rattling off info about everything...that buiding, that citadel, the aqueducts, this district, the crusades, Saladin...you name it. It was like a condensed moving history lesson.

At one point he says to me "We are going to go to the Red Pyramid first, then the Stepped Pyramid...they look different than those over there"...so i look out the window to my right...and this is what I saw.

Holy Crap! Stop the car!

Thats it...my first look at the Pyramids. I was so engrossed in our conversation, I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THE FREAKIN' PYRAMIDS!

We stopped and took a coupe of pics...talked about the Pyramids..and off we went.

First major stop: The Red Pyramid.

We get to the Red Pyramid and Mohammed tells me why I am so lucky to be in Egypt now....no tourists!

I had the whole Pyramid to myself...thats right...my own PERSONAL Pyramid!

"Oh yeah, you can climb up and go inside if you like" Mohammed says...."Hell yeah I like!"...he said it would be a tough climb though. I thought to myself "Whatever...I'm not some old , out of shape senior citizen pal!"

Then I got to the entrance to the pyramid tomb halfway up and I knew what he meant.

A 3 foot square tunnel that goes 200 feet down into the Pyramid's burial chambers....he was talking about the climb out!

Few things in my life have completely freaked me out...but basically crawling down into a pyramid...alone....and hanging out...alone....in a pyramid...was surreal. It was an odd experience. I was only down there for 20 mins and I was already talking to myself just to keep my sanity. "Well...I could put a sofa over here...and maybe a tapestry over there"....I gotta get the hell out of here!

As soon as I got out of the Pyramid and back to the car, a busload of Japanese tourists pulled up...see ya later suckers! Enjoy my Pyramid!

It was already sweltering by 11am, so Mohammed stopped at a roadside stand to get us cool glasses of sugarcane juice....thats right, sugarcane juice! Its a very popular side of the road thing not only in Egypt but much of Asia. After all, you just need some sugarcane and a press (ice and lemon optional)...boom, sugarcane juice!

Cool, thick, creamy sugarcane juice...power meter, recharge!

We drove around the country outside Cairo and Giza. I was just taking it all in. Egypt is a truly beautiful place.

We also had a short stop while a train crossed the road. Its amazing how green it is in an area surrounded by desert.

Next stop, the Pyramids at Giza.

The Giza Necropolis on a plateau 15 miles southwest of downtown Cairo, is probably the most famous and important of all archaeological sites in the world. It is a massive complex of ancient monuments, cemeteries, workers villages, The Sphinx and of course the three Great Pyramids.

Usually this area is smothered in tourists....but not during the Revolution! Wooooooohoooooooo!

There were approximately only 100 tourists in this huge area....how lucky is that?

I met an English guy who was also sight seeing alone. Once we were both convinced that neither of us was trying to scam the other (scams on tourists are sadly very common in Egypt), we hiked around the Necropolis together.

The Pyramids are...well, amazing. The oldest and last surviving member of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World.

Breathtakingly beautiful. Marvels of engineering...you just can't stop trying to wrap your mind around how they were built.......4500 years ago! What! I can't understand! Owwwww my head!

English Guy (Can't remember his name) and I were also giddy with the fact that we had them basically to ourselves. We didn't know what to do...we just stood in silence.

We also of course took loads of pics, and took pics for each other.

Pyramids are really big....I'm just sayin.

It was an amazing day...in an amazing place.

Thanks to Egypt and everyone who made my visit so very special.

(...especially Mohammed)

Bangkok

2011-08-23T17:29:00.000+02:00

After 5 days in Bangladesh, 2 days in Singapore, and 3 days in Malaysia.....we were finally in Bangkok. Unfortunately, I had only planned a brief stop in Bangkok. We arrived at 10am and I had a flight leaving at 2am. Now, I know what you are thinking....that is not enough time for Bangkok!...

The only reason I squeezed Bangkok into this trip was to catch a super cheap flight from Bangkok to Cairo ($400!). I knew that someday the Mrs. and I would come back, so no big deal.

Matt & I arrived and rather than deal with buses etc, we hopped in a Tuk Tuk ...off we went! The Tuk Tuks in Bangkok are way bigger than the ones in Bangladesh. They are open and airy...so very pleasant! They are like the ones in India...but even nicer! Hooooray fancy Tuk Tuks!

Our destination was the famous backpacker ghetto of Khaosan Road.

The district is loaded with bars, restaurants, shops and cheap hostels/hotels. We met up with Matt's Korean friend Joo who happened to be in town and we all walked around together...took in the sites, and had some lunch.

Mmmmmmmm yummy Thai food! I had the above spicy beef noodle dish for lunch...and it kicked my ass! Spicy!

After spicy lunch, Joo took us to a traditional thai massage parlor (not that kind!) and we all got our asses kicked by middle aged Thai women intent on causing as much pain and discomfort as possible. After an hour long torture session, I felt great!...but was hungry again...go figure!

This is where the Mrs. is gonna be jealous...not once, but twice this day I had Pad Thai...and it was glorious.

I found this picture on the internet because I didnt take any of the Pad Thai. It was super delish...yummmm nom nom nom nom.

That evening, after only 16 hours in Bangkok, I said my goodbyes to Matt and Joo, and headed to the airport for my 2am flight. It was a great short visit to Bangkok, I can't wait to return with the Mrs.

Next stop.......Cairo!

The Pearl of the Orient

2011-08-14T23:14:00.000+02:00

Malaysia. the crossroads of SouthEast Asia. Historically, an important part of the Spice Road, home to some of the busiest ports in the region, and a melting pot of Malay, Chinese and Indian cultures.

Malaysia 's name comes from either Sanskrit or Indian and is said to mean"Land of Mountains"

Matt and I took a 17 hour train trip from Singapore north through the capital of Kuala Lumpur, towards our destination of Penang.

The train ride was long and uneventful...except for a Danish family whose favorite hobby was kicking my chair. Luckily, they got off in Kuala Lumpur...and I could get back to trying to nap my Singaporean hangover away.

The train ride was only supposed to take 13 hours, but long delays plagued us the entire trip resulting in a 17 hour journey. Normally this wouldn't be so much of a problem, but we were getting off in Butterworth to catch a ferry to Penang...a ferry service that stops at midnight.

As luck would have it, we arrived at 11:50pm and were just able to catch the last ferry to Georgetown on the island of Penang, get to our hostel and crash. Perfect.

Ferry to Penang....just made it!

Georgetown, a former base for the British East India Company, is full of British Colonial charm and multicultural sites.

Loaded with history. Imagine the Japanese Army marching down this street during the WWII occupation.

Matt and I had decided to skip Kuala Lumpur to spend two whole days and nights in Penang...and I'm glad we did. It was great just walking around the different neighborhoods...Chinatown, Little India...etc.

Its got everything you would hope from a former British colony in Asia...local charm and colonial architecture...cool.

Ask anyone who has been to Malaysia, and they will tell you the best thing is the food. Chicken Satay and the normal local delicacies were abundant, as well as the famous street vendors of Penang.

For me, far and away the best meal we had on the ENTIRE trip was lunch in the Chinese neighborhood of Georgetown. It was sliced, slow roasted pork, rice, green vegetable stuff and some delicious sauces.

Maybe the picture doesn't do it justice. It was so simple but so very good. It was/is exactly what I look for in an Asian style meal...simple but packed full of flavor. Washed down with a cold beer, we were in heaven.

Walking around the markets, we saw lots of cool stuff......like what the hell are these red prickly things?

It was a great couple of relaxing days in Penang...we didn't want to leave, but we had train tickets to Bangkok....so back on the ferry we went...goodbye Penang!

This train was far nicer than our last train as it was going to be an overnight trip....sleeper car! Wooohoooo!

The scenery in the north of Malaysia was very beautiful and interesting. There were a lot of stops where locals would get on, walk through the train and sell food etc.

Matt and I got way too much food, but it was delicious....much better than the crappy noodles we had on the train from Singapore,,,or the disugusting pizza i bought on the ferry. Train Noodles and Ferry Pizza would become synonymous for bad food or risky eating practices.

On the train, we made friends with the surrounding passengers, who turned out to be the weirdest cast of characters ever. You couldn't make this kind of stuff up.

There was a 50 yr old Australian guy, who had recently had an illness/surgery which now prevented him from eating solid foods...so he had a blender...and made shakes that included random food items, but almost always Bacardi.

His traveling companion was a 20 something Indonesian guy.

Across from us, we had a 25-30 year old Japanese student and later, an early 20's Canadian lugging the biggest suitcase I have ever seen. What was in it? Books! He is traveling around the world with a 60lb suitcase of books...so he doesnt run out of reading material...what the?

There was also a 60 something Malaysian guy...who has been traveling the world since 1970. He was funny, wise and even did card tricks. He would prove to be the life of the party.

We all talked, drank beers and laughed our way through the Malaysian countryside.

It was like the beginning of a joke: " An Australian, a Canadian, an Indonesian, a Malaysian, two Americans and a Japanese student get on a train......."

When the train steward started folded down the bunks around 830pm, he did ours last...eventually , to be polite to the other passengers, we called it a night. A great evening followed by a great nights sleep.

Having a great time on the train to Bangkok.

In the morning, we woke up in Bangkok, Thailand! Stay tuned......

Singapore

2011-08-11T05:34:00.000+02:00

After 5 days in Bangladesh, Matt and I headed out on the second leg of my SE Asia adventures...a 3.5 hour flight to the Lion City....Singapore!

Unfortunately, we had only planned a short stop in Singapore as we had planned a train trip leaving in less than 48 hours. We chalked it up to one of the drawbacks of travel....not enough time!

We got in around 11pm and went to our hostel. Where we thought we had reserved a twin bed room....

Time to cuddle up little buddy!

Fully rested, we struck out in the morning to pick up our train tickets for the next day and recon how to get to the train station etc etc etc...this would turn out to be a genius move.

After 5 days in Bangladesh, I was super happy to be back on clean, air-conditioned public transport...Matt who had been in Dhaka for 2 months, was in a state I describe as stunned stupid...he couldnt even function for the first few hours.

After getting our tickets, we went downtown and covered a lot of ground seeing all the sites.

We were both enamored with Chinatown, and spent the entire afternoon walking the streets and just enjoying the atmosphere. Singapore is a beautiful, ultraclean and orderly place. The temperature is pretty much the same all year....85F(31C) in the day, 75F(23C) at night...all year long!

I have heard from friends (most recently Suzanne, Kelly's Africa Trip partner) that they loved Singapore...I understand why, its amazing.

As always with traveling, the food plays a big part. Matt and I found a food court in Chinatown, where we sat for an hour or so, enjoying a couple of beers and some dumplings....yummmmmm.

Matt's hand is in the picture above, because I asked him to move his hand while I was taking a picture...so now I have 8 pictures of Matt waving his hand in my pictures....oh the fun never stops when you are backpacking in Asia!

Here is a video I took at the food court in Chinatown...pay special attention to the....uniform? of the waitress near the end of the video....weird. I guess when you are a waitress in a food court, you dress to impress!

It was great afternoon. Singapore is one of those places you can just walk around and be entertained.

I personally enjoyed the Asian architecture and flavor of the area. Very nice indeed. A great taste of Singapore, someplace I will definitely come back to with the Mrs.

In the evening, we met up with Matts friend Kyle who he knows from High School. Kyle lives and works in Singapore, so he gave us a place to stay on the second night and took us downtown to Clarke Quay.

Clarke Quay is a historic riverside area on the Singapore river that is now a pretty impressive and happening night spot. Load of clubs, restaurants and bars...some are even on refurbished Chinese Junks moored in the river!

We partied all night long, and didnt make it back to Kyle's until very late. We had already scoped out the train station and picked up our train tickets as mentioned earlier....Good thing...our train was at 830am!

See ya later Singapore....next stop......Malaysia!

Dhaka, Bangladesh...part deux

2011-08-07T06:10:00.000+02:00

There is no tourism in Bangladesh. Matt cracked up when we saw an ad at the airport from the Bangladesh Tourism Department...it read "Come to Bangladesh before the tourists do!"...like thats gonna happen anytime soon!

Doing anything in Dhaka is...punishing. Once outside of the orphanage, we were immediately immersed in heat, noise, filth and chaos. All as oppressive as you can imagine. 100 degree heat, 16 million people, a city with little infrastructure...and as much chaos as you can pack in. Hold on, its a wild ride.

Just walking to the store, I took the picture below.

We saw entire families breaking bricks for a living. Smashing big bricks into little bricks, little bricks into pieces of bricks, and pieces of bricks into brick sand. Kids are put to work as soon as they can walk. We saw a 4 year old smashing bricks with a homemade tomahawk...no joke. The more kids you have, the more people you have to break bricks.

Its a sobering sight.

Next up? Hundreds of people waiting in line to get a cup of rice from a government truck. Same truck, same place, every day....wait in line....in the heat.

Luckily, it wasn't all gloom and doom. The locals were so very friendly and the kids were positively giddy when Matt and I played cricket in the street with them.

Another highlight was the food. Anyone who knows me knows that spicy food makes me sweat like a hooker in church...but when its 105 degrees out....who cares!

Does that food look spicy? You're damn right it does...and it was! Good Christmas they like their food spicy....its no joke....and delicious.

Most meals consisted of the same items. Bread...Yellow mushy stuff...Rice...Brown mushy stuff, and unidentifiable meats in spicy sauces. One sauce I believe came from Satan's underpants....in fact, thats what I would order...since they don't speak English and would bring the same stuff anyway.

"Some Yellow and/or Brown Mushy stuff, some Bread and some Rat meat bathed in Satan's underpants sauce please...thanks"

Its really unbelievable not only the amount of activities we squeezed into 5 days, but also the variety. Besides hanging out with Bangladeshi gangsters and playing bumper cars with motorcycle rickshaws, we also went to a soccer game in the big stadium...oh and crashed a wedding.

Thats right, we crashed a wedding....in Bangladesh....a Muslim wedding. Who has big giant b**ls? We do, thats who!

Matts buddy Marshall has a sister who was going to a wedding, so because Marshall is 19 and doesnt know any better, he decided we should just show up. We were a bit fuzzy on the details until we got there and realized "hold on....we weren't actually invited (like Marshall said)...wait a second, why is everyone staring at us?"

Matt and Elodie....wedding crashers

Well at least it was a small wedding...of 600 people!

It gets better.

The waiters had no idea what to make of us...especially when we told them Elodie is a vegetarian. They were completely stunned and confused. So much so, that they just hovered around her and every 30 seconds or so, scooped more vegetables on her plate.

I took this picture right after I signaled to the waiter that I thought she needed some more veggies.

Bon Appetit! Her face says "STOP TELLING HIM TO GIVE ME MORE VEGGIES!" or actually it probably says something like that in French....because she is from France.

It was an amazing trip. One I certainly wouldn't have made unless Matt (above) was in Bangladesh. Kudos to his adventurous spirit....Bangladesh...crazy!

I also cant say enough nice things about Elodie and the orphanage we stayed at. If you are looking for a worthy cause to donate to, look no further. They are making a REAL difference in the lives of many street children in Dhaka. You can click on the link below for information about their charity.

http://www.partenaires-association.org/

Stay tuned for our next stop...Singapore!

Dhaka, Bangladesh

2011-07-13T10:08:00.001+02:00

The plane touched down in Dhaka at 4:30am. I was excited to finally see and experience what, some would say, the most chaotic place on Earth is like. As I would soon find out, nothing is easy in Bangladesh. My excitement was short lived as the airport personnel couldn't get the jetway up to the door of the plane. For 20 minutes, I stood jammed in the aisle with 150 Bangladeshis and waited. Then, just when we thought they had it fixed...they didn't...and it was prayer time. The already crowded aisles now became a giant pushing match as some more devout passengers tried to get to the front or back of the plane to find a patch of open space to pray. Once people started their prayer rituals, the doors opened, the hot air and smells came in...and all hell broke loose.

Welcome to Bangladesh.

Bangladesh, formally East Pakistan, is a mostly flat, coastal tropical lowland on the Bay of Bengal sandwiched between India and Myanmar (Burma). It has a population of 160 million people, roughly half as many people as in the United States or Europe...but they are all packed into an area slightly larger then Iowa. It is one of the most densely populated places on Earth, and with a per capita income of only $638, it is also one of the poorest.

I came to Bangladesh to visit my friend Matt who is here for a few months working for Grameen Bank. It was an opportunity I could not pass up. When would I have another reason or a chance to see Bangladesh?

After exiting the plane down a set of stairs to the tarmac, I moved quickly towards the terminal building to beat the crowds at Immigration. I was one of only two Westerners on the plane, so I assumed it would be quick and easy to get my visa. Once again, Bangladesh had a different plan.

The visa office was closed....of course! I went to passport control (which was completely empty, no lines...nothing) and was told to go back to the visa office. I went back to the dark, closed visa office and tried the door...it was open and inside everyone was on the floor sleeping. There were a few awkward moments as I politely woke up the immigration officials I needed to issue me a visa, but after 15 minutes, a bunch of rubber stamping and $150, I had my visa. Back at passport control there were now 15 lines of over 50 people deep and none of the lines were moving. Knowing a bit of how things work in this part of the world, I did what the locals do....I cut one of the lines.

The passport officer scrutinized my passport, visa and landing card, asked a few questions and was already to stamp me in...he just needed my address and phone number in Dhaka. Uh oh....I had Matt's info in my checked bag!...duh, what a rookie mistake. I told the officer I didn't know it and he said it was not possible unless I had it. So, I said, oh now I remember and wrote down an imaginary phone number....good enough...stamp, stamp, stamp...enjoy your stay in Bangladesh.

After waiting 20 more minutes for my rucksack, I exited the terminal where Matt was waiting with a motorcycle taxi, 100 people standing around staring at him and big stupid grin...."Dude, prepare to be Dhaka'd."

Dhaka, the largest city and capital of Bangladesh, is a sprawling city of approximately 14 million people that has experienced an explosion of growth since Bangladeshi independence in 1971. Chaotic does not describe the mayhem that is daily life in the streets of Dhaka.

Once Matt and I got on the road, he filled me in on his job and the neat little place he found to live. Rather than stay at the hotel that was suggested by his employer, he found a room for rent at a local childrens shelter run by a French Non Governmental Organization (NGO). Talk about immersing yourself in the local culture! Matt had arranged a room for me there as well. Just us, a handful of staff, and 60 Bangladeshi street orphans.

After settling in and touring the shelter, we headed out so Matt could show me the area we were staying. We grabbed a quick bite to eat, I got a shave and shopped for shirts. After a while of just poking around locally in Mirpur (our district) we hopped in a CNG (compressed natural gas motorcycle taxi) and headed down into Old Dhaka. It was Friday, which is the first day of the weekend for Muslims, so with less traffic the trip should have taken 30-45 minutes. Little did we know, our driver (who spoke no English) had no idea where he was going. He pulled over 10 times to ask directions and every time we would end up having a 10 minute conversation with someone new who would then tell him where to go. At one point, a brake cable snapped on the CNG so we had to pull over and wait as he fixed it. In all fairness, it only took 10 minutes, but it was just one more delay. The whole trip was really grueling, not to mention time consuming....then it started to rain. At one point we were parked in the rain..just sitting on the side of the road, because he spoke no English, we spoke no Bangla and there was noone around to ask for directions. Matt and I had a good laugh.

Eventually we got to the area we wanted and the rain let up, but both the Star Mosque and Armenian Church were closed. We rang the bell at the church and a caretaker let us in, so closed schmosed, we're in!


Matt checking out some graves at the Armenian Church in Old Dhaka

After exploring a bit of the area, we hopped in a bicycle rickshaw and went to the soccer stadium for the 4 o'clock game. It only costs 60 taka (60 cents US) to get in so why not? As is usual with most Bangladeshi public events, there were only men in the stadium...and the soccer was not very good, but it was certainly interesting. As foreigners, whenever we are in public people just stare at us. Unlike most places I have been, there are no tourists in Bangladesh. You dont see any Westerners unless you go to the area where most are based, in the Diplomatic area of Gulshan.

After being stared at by several hundred dudes and then being attacked by ants, we decided it was time to move on. After 8 hours in the Bangladeshi heat and smog, walking in filth, riding in open air motorcycle taxis, and sweating through our clothes several times, we went back to the shelter where I had the most glorious cold shower of my life. The cold water wasn't ice cold, just perfect...amazing.

The plan for dinner was to meet up with Elodie, the French psychologist that works at the shelter, and go to a fairly expensive Korean BBQ Restaurant because they sell beer. Alcohol is illegal in Bangladesh, but foreigners are permitted to purchase and drink it. We struck out after dark in a CNG for the 45 minute ride. At one intersection, there were police shining flashlights into every CNG and rickshaw as they drove by. As luck would have it, one policeman shone his light at us, just as my big white dome was peering out at them. They yelled at us to pull over and came over to question us. They asked us where we were from and questioned the driver, but as it turns out, they were super friendly and probably saw an opportunity to talk to foreigners. They cut us loose after 5 minutes and even made sure our driver knew where he was going.

We got to the restaurant and got a table in a private room with 2 other (empty) tables. To be alone in Bangladesh...ahhh. Plus there was air conditioning and beer....yippppeeeeee!

Making new friends

We had a great dinner, and it was nice getting to know Elodie. We had fried tofu, kimchi, vegetable omelet some bbq's steak (cooked right at the table) and a bunch of beers.

After a while they seated some other people in the room, including two guys behind me. At one point Matt saw one of them drinking Soju, Korean rice liquor, so he asked where they got it. The guy said they bought it at the restaurant you just have to ask for it. To make a long story short, we got a bottle of soju and ended up moving over to the other guys table.

We had just made friends with a guy who apparently runs many things in Dhaka...his name is Happy.

Happy (center) and me (right)...and the ever present bodyguard, Azim, in the background.

Happy said there was a party and he would take us. Matt, without hesitating, said we would all love to go. Ten minutes later, we were packed into the back of Happy's Land Rover bombing down the dark roads of Dhaka.....surreal.

30 minutes later we were walking into the Radisson hotel ball room which was packed with Bengalis of all shapes and sizes...dancing to Western music. Unfortunately the lights went on and it was all over within 15 minutes of us getting there. It was 2am and we were wiped out. Happy had his driver bring us home, as long as we promised to go out with him the next night.

I got home and passed out...completely Dhaka'd

Intended for mature audiences only...but not too mature

2011-07-03T20:55:00.001+02:00

Arriving home after a 3 month trip I spent nearly a whole day loading my photos on a computer and then selected a bunch for a highlight reel to put on a memory stick.

Intended audience? The Sistahs.

Several times over the course of my trip I was caught snapping an odd photo by one of my fellow travelers. When given the WTF look, my reply was "for The Sistahs"

My dirty feet, cracked heels, dodgy toilets, animals in compromising positions...
We're always going for a laugh in my family. And if you can't get the laugh, go for the gross out.

Highlight reel in hand - the next few days were spent visiting, laughing, hugging, eating and of course, telling Africa stories and looking at photos. I couldn't ask for a better audience. My family were interested, intrigued, curious and patient. I still can't believe they didn't give me a smack in the mouth and tell me to shut up after a while, I really couldn't stop talking about my trip.

Fast forward a few more days and it's Christmas. The Hub is in town and we'll be visiting with his extended family for the day. Mom, Dad, cousins young and old, and of course a full compliment of great aunties and uncles. What's this? I think to myself. A new audience that hasn't been listening to me drone on about my travels? They are full of questions and comments. I was thrilled with the opportunity to rehash and relive my adventures yet again.

They clamored for pictures (clamored? Okay, maybe I am laying it on a bit thick. But they certainly expressed a polite curiosity.)

The memory stick! I thought. Genius! I had been toting it around since giving my family the slide show the previous week. It wasn't until a young cousin was plugging it into the computery dohickey that I remembered all the inappropriate photos included in the group.

Internal panic ensues as I remember the zebra penises and dirty toilet stalls. Why oh WHY didn't I create an alternate highlight reel?!?! Why did I have to go for the gross out so frequently?

A rushed and oft repeated disclaimer comes gushing out of me. My words tumble and stumble as I try and explain these photos were meant for my sisters and there may be some...erm...unsavory shots among them. I apologize profusely before the first image even hits the screen. Some nervous laughter from the crowd but they assure me they can handle it.

It's not until this image hits the screen that I realize the depth of my gaff. How astoundingly foolish I was in not having the forethought to create a group of photos suitable for in-laws and great aunties.

So because I am a glutton for punishment, because I can not help but wallow in my own humiliation and because after all that I still haven't learned an important lesson in decorum. Because I am a product of my family and will still always go for the laugh and then the gross-out....I decided a blog post of inappropriateness was exactly what was called for to ease my embarrassment.

Farts are funny. Bodily functions are funny. Zebra penises are funny. And humiliation at the hands of my very own self? Also funny.

And if I didn't make you laugh, I at least made you say "Ew!"

Should I be worried that my in-laws read the blog?

-k.

p.s. a couple photos "borrowed" from my fellow travelers

Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

2011-06-23T04:48:00.001+02:00

Have you ever seen 1.5 million bats take flight?

I have.

It happens around dusk in downtown Austin. From March through October, as the sun sets behind us, they come streaming out from under the Congress Avenue Bridge.

If you sit under the bridge to watch you might get the occasional little sprinkle of guano on you.

Considered yourself warned.

And it goes on pretty consistently like this for like 15 to 20 minutes. Squeaking, wheeling columns of bats just pouring out. Great big clouds of massed bats, heading off in an easterly direction, as far as the eye can see. Though our photos and videos hardly do it justice, you gotta trust me, it's jaw dropping y'all.

-k.

Summer Road Trip (Part One)

2011-06-17T00:30:00.000+02:00

With the lacrosse season ended, and our ants-in-the-pants wanderlust in full gear, the Mrs. and I hopped in the Buttercream Bruiser and pointed the truck towards Florida.

Our first stop was the Big Easy where our rock star niece Julia was celebrating her trusty sidekick Josette's birthday. We arrived around 10pm and headed out to the Treme' neighborhood.

The neighborhood has received a lot of attention since the HBO series "Treme'" hit the airwaves, but it has always been an center of African-American and Creole culture in New Orleans....and, of course, the brass band tradition.

It was a late, fun-filled night....which we regretted the next morning when we had to hit the road for the 650 mile, 11 hour drive to Tampa.

It felt like the longest day ever........ever......ever.

We stayed in a hotel just outside Tampa so we would be fresh for the next day.

We swung by and picked up Tina Beena and Florida Shirl...then on to one of our favorite places on Planet Earth..

The Miramar!

Ahhh the Miramar Beach Resort. Our traditional gathering place in Florida where every year we get to hang out with all of our old West Florida friends, relax, laugh, eat, laugh, drink, laugh and laugh.

3 days of bliss. No worries, no stress, no tasks, nothing to do at all. Just hanging out.

Just catching up with family and friends. It is the good life....and it was my birthday.

Daytime party turns to nighttime party...which turns to daytime party....repeat.

As usual....it was fantastic. It is my favorite weekend of the year.

Alas, all good things must come to an end...and off we went to our next destination....

St Augustine for my Mom's birthday!

My eternally youthful mother and her family have a secret to longevity. Buttercream and Cannoli Filling.

My Moms custom made birthday cake weighed approximately 5 pounds and had 4 inches of Buttercream topping. It is so absurd and profane, I don't even know what to make of it. I thought all cakes were like this until as a child I was over a friends house and they brought out some bullshit spongecake.

Look at this freakin' cake!

I ate one small slice and I felt like I had swallowed a phone book...a New York City phone book...but..who am I to argue with my mother's family traditions? The cake was oh so delicious and only 3000 calories a slice!

After just one night with the family, we were off again....next stop South Carolina!

We stopped by old friends Darren and Erin's house in Sumter, where Darren is currently stationed with the Air Force. Unfortunately he is in Afghanistan...but we met two people we have never met before (its been a long time)

Cole & Eric

Sigh...we haven't seen our friends in so long, they have kids running around, walking and talking...and jumping...and wrestling...and swimming. They are very active and funny. I had a blast with them, like making them clean up their toys.

Erin, the hostest with mostest, made us a delicious dinner. She is quite simply the best cook I have ever met. (disclaimer: except my wife and mother....whew that was close)

It was really, really great catching up. We even got a chance to skype with Darren in Afghanistan!

The next day we all went to lunch, but then we had to hit the road again...next stop, visiting Joe & Michelle in NC.

Unfortunately, we didn't take many pictures in Fayetteville...but I can describe what they would look like.

Picture 1: Dinner made by Michelle. Breaded and Pan-Fried Pork Chops, Gravy, Rice, Cabbage and Cornbread...this picture would either be of me hugging the stove where she made it or of a small pile of bones that Joe had sucked clean. He is a one man wrecking crew who literally doesnt leave a speck of food on his plate or any bones.

Picture 2: Two black people pissed off and confused wondering how two suburban white people kicked the living shit out of them at Spades. (Black people think they own the game...not true sir!)

In 1988, a 17yr old Army Private (Me) got to his first duty station in Germany and was paired up with a "seasoned" 21 year old Specialist (Joe) who was to "show him the ropes". We took a picture shortly after of Joe and I standing in front of our Humvee...I still have that picture somewhere in storage. 23 years later, we took this picture.

It was great night hanging out with old friends....but the next day, we were off again!

Next stop......Charlotte! (stay tuned)

Summer Road Trip Highlight #1

2011-06-15T04:20:00.002+02:00

Watching my niece Julia Haltigan and her band The Hooligans perform at 11th Street Bar, NYC.
It's a regular gig, Tuesday nights, 10pm sharp.
You should go.

-k.

p.s. my amazing big brother Emmet is back there in the shadows somewhere, a card-carrying member of the band and a real live, dyed-in-the-wool rock star. I'd post him wailing on the harmonica on a different song, but he's shy. I might do it anyway.

I Never Met a Gorilla I Didn't Like

2011-06-06T20:00:00.000+02:00

Planning for my African adventure I knew there'd be a lot of choices to make. I could game drive the Serengeti, sky dive over the Namib desert or scuba dive in Zanzibar. I could visit a cheetah sanctuary, an elephant orphanage, an island haven for at-risk chimps or volunteer for good causes from Uganda to Zimbabwe. Reading about all the possibilities had my pulse racing and my head spinning. I couldn't even decide what to pack for a three month trip, how could I possibly decide what I wanted to do before I even got there?! Fortunately I didn't have to, with one exception....

One activity that needed some advance preparation. Something I had to sign up for ASAP. One immediate decision necessary. There was a substantial fee and a permit application that could take months to get approved. Luckily this one decision was a no-brainer. The activity?

Hiking in the Virunga mountains of Rwanda to find a family of wild highland mountain gorillas

and hang out with them for one whole glorious hour.

Obviously my decision was yes. Yes! Yes! Yes!

It was a highlight on a trip full of highlights.

The day started at the crack of ridiculous. We piled into jeeps that picked us up from our campsite in Ruhengeri and drove us to the edge of the Parc de Volcanoes. From there we sat and waited while the guides organized us into groups, and then assigned each group a specific family of gorillas. Don't mind admitting that I was a little intimidated by the surrounding peaks. Spent the wait-time praying to the travel gods that my group would be one of the ones to find gorillas after an hour of hiking and not one that took eight hours to reach the same goal.

Each gorilla family has a group of trackers that spend nearly every daylight hour observing them. As the gorillas begin to make a nest for the night, the trackers go home. At dawn they wake up, return to where they left the gorillas the previous night, then track and locate them. From there, it's the same as the day before. Follow, track and observe the gorillas until they make another, different nightly nest. Coolest job ever?

Every day, one group of eight people is allowed to observe one family for one hour and one hour only. So while the gorillas are completely wild, living in their natural habitat and following the natural daily rhythms of life, they are accustomed to seeing humans. The permit money we visitors pay not only enables this self-perpetuating system of tourism, but more importantly, keeps the professional guides and trackers in the area which protects the gorillas from poachers.

The idea is to hike in the general direction of the deep-trackers who observe the family and meet up with them before we reach the gorillas. There we leave anything we've brought with us. Water bottles, knapsacks, hats and sunglasses, walking sticks and camera bags all get dropped in a pile. You are allowed to bring only yourself and your camera to the gorillas.

The vegetation was crazy thick. Sometimes bamboo jungle, sometimes big trees. Lots of dense undergrowth and so many nettles we all returned covered in welts. The hike was steep at times, and often the guides had to hack a path with their machetes. This was some serious bushwhacking, y'all.

Before the hike, Charles, our head guide, had demonstrated a few gorilla grunts for us. One meaning "Hey what's up?" The next being "It's all cool" and another saying "Back off man!" He also explained that it was bamboo shoot season and that bamboo shoots were like beer to gorillas. I couldn't quite figure out if that meant we'd be hearing more of grunt number one, two or three but it added a little zest to the hunt. What's more fun than wild gorillas? Drunk wild gorillas!!

After meeting up with the deep-trackers we all roamed and ranged up the hillside, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the stinging nettles. We had been told to wear long pants and long sleeves, but none of our clothes were made of sturdy enough material to protect us. Charles, his two dudes and the four trackers all letting out the occasional "Hey what's up?" grunt. They were on high alert. All of us were. Some serious adrenaline was flowing. We knew the gorillas were close. We could hear the foliage moving and twigs snapping.

And then suddenly we were surround by them. Sometimes this close!!! Brushing past us! When I saw one headed our way, I didn't know what to do. No guide was close enough to signal to. Do I move out of the way? Scream? Run? Fall down? Freeze? Beat my chest? My heart was certainly beating hard enough.

There was fear but more than anything else, awe. I surprised myself by getting all emotional. A lump in the throat, fighting back tears. It was incredibly weird. I just couldn't believe I was lucky enough to be right there. Doing what I was doing, seeing what I was seeing. The gorilla family felt like one big, hairy gift. They took my breath away and scared the crap outta me all in one go. Surreal.

We were told beforehand to try and keep a distance of three meters, but that's a tough task when the group is constantly moving. Foraging and digging, settling down for five minutes to root out some shoots and chew them up then moving on in different directions. For the most part they ignored us.

I think there were eight adults in our family, plus a couple babies. They move in a loose group. Leap-frogging their way up and down the sloping hillside. Always a family unit, but never quite cohesive. They don't seem to be communicating to each other much...

...except when a few laid down for a cuddle together or a couple of juveniles wrestled for a while. They seem to be operating independently, each after his or her own food, not caring what the rest of the clan is up to. But after a while you realize though they may be twenty feet or more from each other, they are all completely aware of the family. It may be shuffling and disorganized, one ambles to the left while another tumbles off to the right, but they all still manage to stay together in a loose knit grouping.

Mamas and babies are, of course, always together.

But other than that they seem barely aware of each other. And even less curious about us. Surely it's the mighty silverback who leads, but it was hard to tell even after an hour of observation who was taking cues from whom. They all moved haphazardly and we did the same. I'm fairly certain the whole hour's worth of time took place in the world's largest bed of stinging nettles, but once the gorillas showed up I forgot about that discomfort altogether. The guides were pushing and pulling us gently, either to get us out of the way of a moving gorilla or to help us get a better photo. The foot was treacherous and the ground never flat, and it was a challenge to keep moving all the time. I felt about as graceful as a hippo in a tutu. You could stop and stand straight and still and just listen while swiveling your head and you'd see and hear gorillas moving, laying down, feeding and just generally doing their gorilla thing in all directions. Have I used the word AWE yet?

I feel like I am only talking in superlatives when remembering my Africa trip. That maybe I am in danger of overstating everything to the point where no one will take me seriously, But I can think of no better description for this morning with gorillas - it was simply one of the coolest things I have done in my life.

-k.

p.s. As in many of my Africa posts, some of the photos are mine, others borrowed from my fellow travelers.

Flat People Love Me or Luke and the Flat Man

2011-05-09T03:59:00.000+02:00

Hey Luke!

Thanks for sending Flat Stanley for a visit with Auntie Laura and Auntie Maryanne.

They brought him on the plane down from NY just before Easter weekend. It was nice to get visitors here in Houston, Texas. I told Flat Stanley that Houston is the fourth largest city in America...

...and Texas is the second largest state in the country,

there's a reason people say everything is bigger in Texas!

Uncle Chris and I live in a suburb of Houston called Kingwood. It sits right on the edge of Lake Houston which you can see in the background of this photo.

You can also see the new cowboy clothes Auntie Laura made for FS!

After Stanley saw my cowboy boots he insisted on a pair of his own!

The weather in Houston was much warmer and sunnier than it was in NY on Easter weekend, it's a lot like Florida weather here. We brought Flat Stanley to the pool with us, he had a nice cool glass of limeade BEFORE putting on his sunscreen.

That ended up being a mistake. Look at poor Flat's sunburn!!

We decided to keep poor Flat out of the sun for a couple days after that, so we decided to tell him some more Texas facts. We brought him out to eat BBQ, which is real popular here, where we gave him his Texas lesson. Above you can see him with the Texas state flag outside the restaurant. Texans are real proud of their flag - you see it everywhere! They call Texas the Lone Star State as a reminder that it used to be its own country. Did you know that? From 1836 to 1845 Texas was not a part of America at all, but a country called The Republic of Texas. Its first president was Sam Houston - and that's how my city got its name! Sam Houston was a general before he became president of Texas and he helped Texas gain independence from Mexico. Before Texas was under Mexican control it had been under the rule of Spain and France at different times in its history. Flat Stanley was fascinated by all of this, but mostly he just enjoyed the ribs :-)

Easter was a fun day to have our Flat friend around. Auntie Laura got him his very own Easter basket and he came out to eat brunch with us and a couple friends. It was a beautiful sunny day and Stanley's burn was gone so after brunch we ate sweets and played cards while we hung out at the pool.

The next day we checked out a couple of the places that make Houston unique. One of those places is a silly bungalow called The Beer Can House. A retired grandfather started flattening out his empty cans and using them to create designs, patterns, wind chimes and mobiles all over his house. Flat Stanley thought it was an interesting way to recycle! It was this grandfather's hobby for years and now...

...the place is a quirky little Houston landmark. There are marbles embedded in the patio, making pretty patterns, and the siding of the house as well as the front porch "curtain" is all made of cans! It's neat to hear them twinkling when the wind blows.

After that strange and fun little place, Flat Stanley's three Aunties brought him to a seaside town called Kemah just outside Houston. Do you like the beach clothes Auntie Laura made for Flat?

She was inspired by Auntie Maryanne's beach outfit!

Kemah sits on the Gulf of Mexico so it's a good place to keep watch for ships....

...and sea birds. Just don't feed them!

Flat's favorite part of Kemah was the boardwalk amusement park.

His Aunties let him ride on ALL the rides...

...as long as he was tall enough.

...his favorite was the old fashioned wooden roller coaster called The Bullet. It was BIG!!

Luke, all us Aunties were so happy to have Flat Stanley with us during our visit. Thanks again for sending him down. We had so much fun with him! And we think he had lots of fun too...

...but after four days I think he was starting to get a little homesick and was ready to get back to his home state of New York. He did keep his Texas baseball hat and his cowboy boots on for the flight home though.

I love you Luke and I can't wait to see you again and hear about Flat Stanley's other adventures.

-Auntie Kelly

Out Texasing the Texans

2011-05-03T09:44:00.001+02:00

Enjoy where you're at. The secret to a lifetime of happiness? Can't say, really. But a personal motto, at any rate. And I do tend to land sunny-side-up. So I'm in Texas for nearly four months now and I am doing anything Texan that comes my way and having a blast. Since January I have...

Gone to the Monster Truck show and loved every second of it. I thought we were just going on a lark. I was fully prepared to enjoy it ironically, ya know? Like watching the local yocals and feeling superior. But you know what? When the lights went down and the engines revved and I got an eyeful of El Toro Loco, Madusa and the legendary Gravedigger I went as nuts as any other redneck there. The noxious exhaust fumes, the deafening noise, the sinus-clogging clouds of dirt, the roar of the crowd - all I can say is don't knock it till you try it.

I'm also eating TexMex every chance I get.

Any eatery where the wait staff approaches with complimentary chips and salsa

and the sing-song suggestion "How 'bout some margaritas for y'all today?" is alright in my book.

And when the sit-down and order option ain't a possibility, a tamale will do.

You can find one of these on every other street corner.

We've made it over to Austin a couple times so far.

Saw Junior Brown playing his self-made double-necked steel / slide guitar hybrid thingy. Legend.

Made it to a couple other shows at Austin's Continental Club which is currently in the running to become my favorite place ever. Their regular run-of-the-mill weekly roster reads like a Who's Who of the alt-country music scene. I expect to be back as often as possible and was delighted to discover there's a Continental Club in Houston too. Yeehaw!

Other Texas activities included...

...gawking at the Alamo in San Antonio....

...and shopping the jerky counter at a roadside rest stop. But that ain't all...

I been to the Houston Livestock show where I saw firsthand the difference between a longhorn...

...and a brahman bull (many thanks to Brett's mom for all answering all my city mouse questions. The Livestock Show was an amazing experience that methinks will eventually get its very own blog post.)

As if a day at the Houston Livestock show wasn't enough Texas fun, it was followed by the rodeo. The RODEO y'all! The rodeo was followed by a Sugarland concert. I don't mind telling you folks I was feeling country strong AND Texas proud that day.

But by far the highlight of my "When in Rome do as the Texans do" quest has been a day at Brett's family farm. We tore it up on four wheelers, gorged on bbq, gathered 'round a mini bonfire and just generally had some good ol' Texas fun. Jim, Sue, Mandy and Jolie were excellent hosts and it was amazing to get some time with old friends Brett, Monica, their little darlin' Brayden and some of Brett's old Texas buddies.

Brett's niece let me ride her horse. I'm not sure if the photo does justice to my barely suppressed panic but all I can say is I'm not a natural. While Jolie clearly is and has the boots to prove it.

(I covet those pink cowboy boots.)

Show off.

Other ranch activities included feeding the cows treats by hand...

...and helping a lil' calf get her nutrition with Sue and Jolie. But the real country fun started when a bunch of us headed out onto the property's makeshift gun range. I'm not a firearm fan in general, but I felt like Annie Goshdarn Oakley. Shooting with people who are safe and responsible gun owners, who know the ins and outs of their favorite toys and how enjoy sharing it with a pacifist city mouse like me was a treat I don't expect to experience very often. Texas...what's not to love?

And I do not mind admitting that I felt like one bad-ass chick that day. Shooting is fun! Turns out I'm not half bad at it either. I say again, yee haw.

Here's a pile o' guns on offer at The Farm. It started with about four pistols but every time I turned around someone was bringing out something new to shoot. Chris was in heaven.

Above a selection of shells and bullets gathered from the range after we were through. Don't mess with Texas, I'm just saying. We will SHOOT YOUR ASS!

So it's looking like we'll be staying in Houston for a while and I suspect that the fun will not stop. I'm hoping to add more Texan treats to my stable of adventures. There's a place downtown called the Armadillo Palace that looks promising, so stay tuned cowboys.

-k.

A Boy and his Pencil

2011-04-27T20:51:00.000+02:00

Every vacation my nephew comes home from school with his supply box to be replenished....

Do you think he enjoys using his pencil sharpener?!?!?!?!

-k.

p.s. thanks to his mom for this gem.

Spring Break Road Trippin' - Part One

2011-04-22T18:23:00.000+02:00

Freshly released from my 9 to 5 and having 12 days off from coaching, Spring Break gave the Mrs. and I an opportunity to go anywhere in the World....unfortunately, you can't fly anywhere for cheap during SB. Undaunted, we hit the highway and pointed the truck towards Florida.

Our first destination was St Augustine to visit with Mom. Its a 900 mile drive, so we did it in two legs. We left Houston at 6pm and drove 6 hours to Bay St Louis, MS the first night, slept in the truck and headed out the next morning. We had packed the back of the truck with sleeping bags and bedding so we could sleep in the truck, a plan that played out well over the next 2 weeks.

I was planning on surprising Mom but the Mrs. insisted I call her once we got to Florida to give her a few hours notice. The surprise might have been ruined....but it gave Mom enough time to make me some meatloaf! She knows I love her meatloaf. :) After dinner, I slept in the truck again....Mom has cats...booooo allergies.

After one night in St Augustine, we shot down to Vero Beach (175 miles) to visit friends Kent and Liz. We met up with them in the early evening, lit a fire in the backyard, let Kent grill us some steaks and drank too much wine.

It was one of those perfect evenings. Just hanging out with friends, shooting the shit.

Kent and Liz have a dog...so allergy sufferer Me got to sleep in the truck...for the 3rd night in a row.

In the morning we struck out for the West Coast of Florida...Vero to Tampa (140 miles). Rather than take the interstate, we took State Road 60 which cuts across Florida through some smaller towns including Yeehaw Junction, Lake Wales, Bartow and Mulberry.

Somewhere along the way we found an RV supercenter...so we posed as interested shoppers and had a look.

They had LOADS of different types and styles of RVs...some were crazy expensive, some not so bad. We could definitely picture ourselves getting one in later years and tooling around the country.

They really have everything you could possibly need. Very cool indeed.

Back on the road, we have places to be! (not really, we didn't even know where we staying each night because we didn't tell anyone we were coming.)

Not much else to speak of along the way from Vero to Tampa...Citrus Groves...swamp....these two chicks crossing a 4 lane divided highway...on Rascals! Cross at the green, not in between!

Most of my family happened to be in St Pete visiting, so we all met up for an early dinner downtown. Perfect!

After dinner, we headed to Tony and Michelle's house...which we have never seen since they moved in when we were in Ireland. They have done a bunch of remodeling and have more to go, but the house is coming along great. Their son Carter is a bruiser and is totally the boss of his Dad. :)

Tony and Michelle also have a dog, but there was no way I was sleeping in the truck again. So I chanced having allergy problems and slept in their guest room. No problems at all...whew! A good nights rest and we were out and on the road again...but first, some big 'Merican Breakfast.

On the move after breakfast, we swung by Jim and Nancy's, got stuck at a drawbridge, and drove past our old house on the way to MegaKens.

We also drove by the Hindu Temple they had been building when we moved....neat!

Lots has changed at Megan and Ken's as well.....like this little munchkin...

It was great hanging out with the ol' neighbors...and having an allergy free bedroom to stay in!

The next day, we hit the road again to meet up with the family at Brian's house down in Punta Gorda.

Its rare we have most of us in one place, so it was nice catching up.

We played with turtles.....

..saw some impressive bike riding...

...and Drank MOONSHINE! Standard family stuff really....

A great time....stay tuned for Road Trip part two coming soon.

Suzanne and Kelly: An Ephelant Adventure

2011-04-10T21:52:00.001+02:00

One three-man tent with two occupants for seventy three days. Who would you pick to share that tent with?

Suzanne and Kelly. Kelly and Suzanne.

I've tried writing this entry so many times but never could get it quite right. I wanted to tell you how us travelers brought all our own camping supplies, but the truck provided the tents. I wanted to tell you how each tent was named for an African animal and after your first night, that animal was both your totem and your roof for the next 73 days. I wanted to tell you Lisa was in Lion, Tim & Rachel in Zebra, Sam & Andy in Buffalo, Laura & Stefan in Giraffe, Carly & Kaylin in Hippo and so on and so on. But you don't know any of these people, though they now occupy the most special of places in my heart.

So we'll stick to this: Suzanne and I got the Elephant tent. Her favorite African animal and our home for the next three months. For this post, anything unrelated to Elephant is Irrelephant.

I'll try and stay focused but....

I wanted to tell you how our tent names became our nicknames. How I could call out "Hyena" and if Frances or Sarah were within earshot they would answer. How Ewan and Jack became Warthog and Hogwart respectively. How Jacquie and Nicole were, collectively, the Cheetah girls. I want to tell you how early in the trip someone misspoke and called our tent Ephelant and it stuck. If somebody called out "Ephelant!" tomorrow as I cruise the aisles of the grocery store, I'd turn and answer to it.

I wanted to tell you how each time Suzanne or I approached our tent, we'd call out "Ephelant!" to make sure it was the right tent, to see if the other one was at home, to make sure it was okay to enter. Privacy is in short supply with tent living, we tried our hardest to give each other a bit whenever possible, though sometimes that just meant averting our eyes.

I wanted to tell you about the intense travel schedule: Arrive at sunset, set up the tent. Wake at dawn, take down the tent. Set the tent up, take the tent down. Set it up, take it down. Set up, take down. Staying in a place for more than one night seemed like a gift. Three nights at a campground and it was like we were putting down roots in the community. Four nights and we all felt as if we had lived there forever.

But I digress...anything unrelated to Ephelant is Irrephelant.

I wanted to tell you that being successful tent mates means compatibility of scheduling. What time do we need to get up in order to get our "chores" done and still make it on the truck in time for a dawn departure? Suze and I could not be more in sync; each night we'd agree without debate what time the next day's itinerary meant waking up. True, we were often awake earlier than anyone else, often ready to leave before we needed to be and often teased for being early birds ("Hey Ephelant, it's midnight, you probably wanna start taking your tent down now.") But Suze and I shared the same desire to be squared away, the same preference for being early rather than scrambling at the last second. Harmonious lives have been built on less.

But synced schedules are not the only thing that makes a good tent buddy. Suze and I took to calling each other Wifey for much of the trip. So much so that if someone was looking for Suzanne and came across me, they'd ask where my wife was and vice versa. We really and truly operated as a team most of the time. Except, of course, when we didn't want to. Even spouses need a break now and then.

I had a blister, she provided the band aid. She needed sunscreen, I rubbed it on her back. She had a yogurt, I got half - we shared the spoon. She had a cut, I handed over the first aid cream. I borrowed her makeup, she borrowed my deodorant. I didn't take out my tic tacs without passing her the box, she didn't spritz on mosquito repellent without sending a spray of it my way. If there was a toilet at a border crossing, I handed her the paper on the way in, she squirted hand sanitizer into my palms on the way out.

When she needed a spot of courage, I got my ear pierced first so she could watch. When I got panicky climbing a giant sand dune, she sat next to me and calmed me down. Such is the stuff that Ephelants are made of.

We shared bottles of wine, chocolate bars, bags of apples and malaria meds. We pooled our resources for groceries. We shopped, cooked and cleaned together. We gave each other space, we read each other's books. We were venting partners when group living became too stressful. We tag-teamed the exhausting negotiations necessary for any purchase of African trinkets. We guarded each other's privacy when there were no, erm, toilet facilities.

I was the big sister she never had, she was the little sister I lacked. We talked about boys and about our periods, we lent each other money. We helped each other clean up after being sick and wiped away tears when they needed to come out. I snapped at her a couple times, she gave me the cold shoulder once or twice. We cried like babies when we had to say goodbye.

When photo opportunities presented themselves....

....I'd wordlessly pass my camera to Suze, pose...

...then turn around to receive her camera and snap the same shot of her.

Thankfully we occasionally remembered to ask someone else to take a photo of the both of us.

I wanted to tell you about daily truck life. How the seating worked itself out each day. About the cook-group / truck clean rota. How shopping for cook-group duty was the worst task, how all twenty two of us chipped in to clean up after dinner, how we had to flap-dry all the dishes because dish towels aren't really feasible on a 73 day camping trip. I wanted to tell you how efficient and strategic Suzanne and I strived to be when setting up camp when there were limited resources for what seemed like unlimited people. Eleven tents but only one pan & brush. Two shower stalls and thirteen girls.

I wanted to tell you about the big goofy grins we kept giving each other as our safari truck sped through the savannah, our heads out of the roof, covered in a film of African dust, hair getting blown every which way, mouths full of Serengeti grit.

I wanted to tell you about all the real elephants we met. I wanted to tell you the story behind each and every picture. I wanted to tell so much in this blog post. Too much?

How can I tell you about Suzanne without telling you the whole story of my trip? There's not a single part of my adventure that my wife didn't figure into somehow. How can anything be Irrephelant when the whole damn thing was Ephelant?

-k.

p.s. I love you Suze, and am so grateful we got to share this experience. And anything else is irrephelant.

Hungry Hungry Hippo

2011-04-07T01:17:00.000+02:00

I didn't have a fancy camera, no long lenses to attach and detach. No tripod; not even the steadiest of hands. But such is the nature of the African experience that, with a minimum of effort, you can capture photos like this series below. One of my favorites. Taken during a game cruise on the Chobe River in Botswana.

-k.

Monster Truck Jam!

2011-03-30T09:31:00.007+02:00

There are a few things you don't get a chance to do when living in Europe....but now we live in Texas.

When our friend Kyle suggested we all go to the Monster Truck Show, we said he must certainly be joking.

He was not......and we went....and it was freakin awesome!

We had a blast! It was loud...and there were giant trucks jumping over stuff!

I can't believe how much we enjoyed it...I guess when you are sitting with 25,000 other people you can pretty much enjoy anything...but Monster Trucks are cool.

above, the crowd favorite "Gravedigger"

We all picked our favorites. Kelly's was "El Toro Loco" because he had horns on his truck.

After a few rounds of 1 on 1 races around a course, they got into the freestyle competition which was the real fun. Every time someone rolled their truck or flipped over the place went NUTS!

It was a great evening indeed.

below, Kelly and Kyle

Yeeeeeeee Hawwwwwwww !

Ngorongoro Crater

2011-03-27T23:52:00.037+02:00

The crater from above, just after sunrise, before the sun has burned off the mist.

We drive down into the crater, seeing it stretch away, filling the distance. It's early, still cold enough for sweatshirts and the day holds promise......what will we see?

These guys showed up in the first thirty minutes. Good start.

The crater has the world's densest population of lions. Lucky us!

Casually sauntering along.

Walked right up to and around our trucks as if we weren't even there.

I could have leaned out and touched her. She could have jumped up and bit me.

There was one female and two young males.

You can see his mane just starting to grow.

They were magnificent. I could have watched them all day. But they moved on and thus, so did we.

Later we saw this fully grown mating pair in the distance. Our guide told us a mating pair will remove themselves from the pride for up to a week and have sex about every twenty minutes. That's dedication.

Other Ngorongoro Crater sightings couldn't quite live up to our first one. But they still gave a thrill.

Our first hyena.

This triumvirate of zebras.

An abundance of vegetarians...

...loitering at the watering hole

We saw plenty more that day but rather than tell you about it now,

I'm going to go look at more lion photos.

-k.

(As mentioned on previous posts, please assume for all Africa related content that if my personal photos didn't cut the mustard I may have borrowed a picture or two from one of my fellow travelers' Facebook albums. Anyone seeking further clarification on this policy should consult with Management.)

Houston: The Land of Highways

2011-03-27T12:00:00.000+02:00

They are everywhere.

Overpasses, underpasses, exit ramps and elevated roadways.

And they are multiplying like gremlins fed after midnight and sprinkled with water.

We call the big entrance ramps SWOOPS and nervously chuckle

"Aaaahhh earthquake!" each time we are driving on, under or around one.

The good ol' fashioned clover leaf is a thing of the past. Outdated and obsolete when every

household has multiple vehicles and the city is growing faster than a time-lapsed chia pet commercial.

Here we are Texas-sized and each highway has six lanes minimum. And you know what?

We still get stuck in traffic.

-k.

Makes Perfect Sense

2011-03-26T09:00:00.000+01:00

Scenes from a 10 Day Road Trip

2011-03-25T00:28:00.000+01:00

China, Texas

population 1,112

All six buildings of the Mobile, Alabama skyline

Battleship Park, Alabama

How you know you've reached Florida.

A friend's little piece of heaven. Vero Beach, Florida

Motor Home shopping for shits n giggles. Middle-of-Nowhere, Florida.

Hindu Temple, Tampa.

A legendary St Paddy's Day meal.

A Louisiana traffic jam.

A pretty vista. Mississippi?

A cool white-tiled tunnel soothes the eyes after all the bright sunshine.

Heading home, just like us.

-k.

The Little Five

2011-03-04T19:59:00.001+01:00

When talking about African safaris, you can't swing a cat without hitting a reference to The Big Five. Lion, leopard, rhino, elephant and cape buffalo; they are the superstars of game driving. Originally dubbed The Big Five by game hunters, these days they are the first boxes most safari viewers want to tic, the main photos they want to click. We saw them all, several times, and they were glorious. But I'd like to take a moment here to talk about what my fellow travelers and I dubbed The Little Five.

Mongooses (Mongeese?)

Somewhat more common, though no less exotic.

Baboons

Perhaps not glorious, but certainly entertaining.

Warthog

Seeing them more frequently gave us a chance to get bored with them, observe and learn more about their behaviors and then fall back in love with them all over again. For instance did you know that warthogs are so silly and unfocused that when frightened and running for their lives, they'll tear ass for a minute or two, forget what they are running from, stop abruptly, not look back to see if the forgotten danger still exists, and just start eating. What a collection of loveable galoots. Plus they have awesome mullets (you should click on above photo to appreciate the full hair-band glory.)

dik-dik

We made some other Five lists. The Sexy Five, The Tasty Five and The Deadly Five to name a few. The dik-dik made an appearance on The Tasty Five as well as The Little Five. They are so teeny tiny they must be tender and tasty too.

Guinea Fowl

But it was the guinea fowl that really captured my imagination. They are comical. Ridiculous even. Not particularly smart, nor very good looking, they are found in almost every country I visited, running around squawking. When you are driving through a game park and a flock of them are in your truck's way, they bellyache and jump and generally act like Chicken Little when the sky is falling. Yet in all their panic they don't get very far. They are terrible at running away. In fact, they are even worse than the warthog. The whole group will move on a few yards only to squawk and panic again when they, to their surprise, find the truck right behind them once more.

So their silliness is what first got me but it was the stylized versions of the guinea fowl that you see in every craft market in Africa that really gave them a special little corner of my heart.

Here's a metal sculpture found at one of my favorite campsites.

And a delightful little hen carved in wood that I brought home with me from Africa to remind me that it's not always the superstars that hold the most entertainment, sometimes it's The Little Things.

-k.