Waterfalls

I have a confession. I didn't want to go to Iguazu Falls. Waterfalls are always anticlimactic. I grew up 45 minutes from Niagara Falls, and went to school in upstate New York, swimming in gorges. It seemed crazy to travel such a long way.  But I went anyways and I had fun.

Good Air?

The air ain't so bueno in Buenos Aires.  I'm ready to breathe some fresh Rocky Mountain air and drink water (drum roll, please) directly from the tap without fear of retribution!

Dogs, Dogs, Everywhere!

Turkey had cats everywhere you looked.  Better yet, Argentina has the most dogs of any country we've visitied.  Oftentimes (at least this time of year) they wear sweaters.  They are clearly loved.
Maybe its just that I miss my hound dog, but these are couple of my favorite pictures of the trip.

The meaning of "Mara"

News flash:  Mara has an interesting name! Here's the story.  We saw a big rodent running around the jungle today and decided to figure out what it is.  Well, turns out it is a "Mara".  Along with everything from Guatemalan gangs to Scandinavian specters to a Romanian supermarket chain.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mara

I particularly enjoyed this section of the Wikipedia article.  Describes the Mara we all know so well.
"She is the patroness of all feminine duties (children, cattle), patroness of all the economic activities ("God made the table, Māra made the bread"), even money and markets. Being the alternate side of Dievs, she takes a person's body after their death while Dievs is taking the soul. She is the goddess of land, which is called Māras zeme (Māra's land)."

According to folks we have met on our travels during the last year it also means the following:
Hebrew - Bitter
Latvia - Mother Earth
Laos - Demon King
Kenya (Masai'i) - Many Beauties (As in Masai'i Mara - Land of Many Beauties)
Turkey - Deep Cave

I'm not sure what the hell my name means.  I think there was a couple popes named that (and maybe an actor or something).

Summary Stats - Mara posting

Old habits die hard, and I would feel unfulfilled if I couldn’t summarize our trip with some statistics.  So here they are:

By the end of this week, and since November 1, we will have taken 34 flights (>160 hours of flying time, not including layovers), 13 long distance trains (78 hours), 12 ferries, 26 long distance buses (190 hours of transit), and used public transportation in more than 22 cities. We’ve dealt with 16 currencies, and even more languages and countries.  We’ve stayed in 85 hotels, hostels, guesthouses, and friends’ houses.

Singapore, Spain/Portugal, and Scandenevia (even though we were lucky enough to stay with friends almost the entire time in Sweden and Finland) were the most expensive countries of our trip, with Argentina and New Zealand next in line.  Malaysia and the Phillipines were the cheapest, less than half as much per day as the most expensive countries, followed by Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Samoa.  Morrocco, Turkey, Eastern Europe, and Kenya were in the middle (but we stayed with friends almost the entire time in Kenya).

We didn’t win the lottery, inherit anything, or go into credit card debt for this adventure. So, how did we pull it off?  A lot of planning, starting long before the trip.  The biggest factor of long term travel is how quickly (or slowly) you spend your money.  We spent a longer time in cheaper countries so that we could travel for a longer period of time.  We also avoided spending about $10,000 by getting our around the world airline tickets for free, using frequent flyer miles on Delta (I started unknowingly saving miles more than 10 years ago!).  We only had to pay taxes for the tickets.

We rarely stayed in American-style hotels, and often stayed in small boutique hotels or guesthouses. In general, I found that hostels were rarely the best deal in town (small guesthouses and hotels cost about the same or a few dollars more per night, but often were more comfortable and cleaner).  If I made a reservation for more than two nights, the hotel/hostel/guesthouse almost always negotiated with us, whether it was giving a discount, a night free, or a free pickup from the airport.  I am not ashamed to say that I heavily used tripadvisor and booking.com (and the consensus of reviews are usually correct). I also found that we could get a lot more for our money if we stayed outside the hotel zones discussed in guidebooks (with usually just a 5-10 minute walk). And we thank the Starwood hotels credit card perks, for providing us with at least 2 weeks of free stays at luxury hotels!

A lot of countries included breakfast with the hotel/guesthouse/hostel stay (it usually was little more than bread, jam, and instant coffee, but some places were incredible).  We often ate at street stands, small restaurants or cafes, and regularly bought snacks and food from grocery stores.  When a kitchen was available, we sometimes cooked our own meals.  I am sure that we could have eaten more cheaply than we have, but food is a huge reason why I travel, so I didn’t want to miss out!  In general, we were able to eat amazing meals and rarely spent more than $10-15 for a meal for both of us.  We usually didn’t buy water or something to drink at meals, and we kept instant coffee and tea with us so if a hotel didn’t include breakfast, we could make our own.  It seems silly, but over 8 months, a few dollars a day adds up!  I have to admit, I am REALLY looking forward to cooking at home again. It Is very hard to consistently eat healthy while on the road.

We only rented two cars for two weeks during 8 months.  Other than in southeast Asia, where we often used tuk-tuks and tricycles, we rarely used taxis. Otherwise, we used local buses, metros, trams and walked many, many miles.

Ruta Nacional 40, Argentina

RN 40 in Argentina makes Route 66 in the US look like someones driveway.  We drove KM4500 to about KM3800 in the Northwest of Argentina in the last week and it has been incredible.  Can't image what KM1 in Tierra Del Fuego looks like.  Even better, KM5000 plus near Bolivia.  Definitely going to come back down here someday!

Some thoughts as we wait for a replacement rental car to come from a city 5 hours away…. - Mara Posting

How do you judge a place?

It’s scenery or lack thereof? The material and size of buildings? The number of bars, stripclubs, or libraries? How clean the parks are? The existence of sidewalks or street trees? The cost or form of public transportation? If trains run on time? The number and type of cars, mopeds, and bikes?

It’s people? The frequency with which they smile (and does a smile guarantee their friendliness or happiness)? How people dress? Walk? Talk? How often they exercise or drink coffee, wine, beer, or tea?

The cost of a bigmac?

In the Philippines, almost everyone has a rooster, and there are more beauty products than I have ever seen. Every store has a floor-too-roof wall of whitening creams, cleansers, slimmers, and moisturizers. Yet, I could not find a bottle of shaving cream anywhere!  In Buenos Aires, there seems to be at least one bookstore per capita.  In Germany, every park brims with people in athletic shorts… drinking beer from 1 liter mugs.  In Vietnam, minibuses are truly mini (I couldn’t fit my knees behind the seat in front of me), and drivers prefer to use horns instead of brakes.  In Argentina, city bus drivers don’t use horns or brakes; they accelerate at intersections and then slam to a stop at the bus stops. 

In Turkey, fruit carts are at every corner – fresh squeezed orange juice for less than $1. In parts of Samoa, fruit is ironically scarce.  In Turkey, men move the hand carts; in Vietnam, women do. In Morocco, mules pull the carts, as they froth green at the mouth, trying to spit out their bits.  In Spain, you go out for pre-dinner snacks no earlier than 10pm.  In Laos, everything shuts down by 9pm, and the streets are empty.

Samoan dogs have hard lives and are kicked constantly. In Thailand, they are aggressive guard dogs. There are only cats in Istanbul; Turkish dogs live in the countryside, and some are the size of a small bear.  In Europe, they ride the subway with their owners.  The most playful dogs are in northern Vietnam, but they might not be around long. Several strays have adopted me in Argentina.

Kids in Finland wear safety vests while playing in a double-fenced playground. In Kenya, they carry siblings slightly smaller than themselves. In Thailand, I heard a “crack” and turned my head to see an immobile motor-biker lying in the street in front of a pickup truck.  In Budapest, I heard a “crack” and looked across the street as a store alarm went off, and a man next to the store window put something in a plastic bag and slowly walked away, glancing over his shoulder.

Everywhere, there are a lot of gun-wielding guards in front of banks. There are too many double-doored (triple-locked) apartments with narrow stairs and no lifts, and even more dirty bathrooms (and usually the dirtiest are the ones you pay to use). But unlike what the guidebooks say, most people are not out to get you, and most vendors will smile even if you don’t buy anything.  

Have I judged or observed?

Valle de Calchaqui - Mara posting

I feel sorry for the Grand Canyon.  It doesn’t seem so grand anymore. The 150 km dirt road between Cachi and Cafayate, Argentina, is possibly the most scenic drive that I have done. It’s an endless, colorful landscape of canyons, eroding mountains, condors, 10 foot cacti, rivers, reds and blue, and flocks of desert parrots. (Yes, parrots. In the desert.)  There are a few small enclaves – sleepy towns with impeccable plazas and dozens of dogs laying in the shade.  In 6 hours, we passed four cars, a few dozen burros, a handful of churches, two groups of school children walking miles home from school, and countless jaw-dropping scenes. 

Sure, there are further, harder to reach places in the world. But here, you end the dusty drive in a well-kept town of 10,000 and complete the day with an affordable supper of steak and world-class wine.  It is one of the few places in the world where Google maps doesn’t have towns and town streets mapped (although you can get a map once you are here)!  I’m happy to be out of the cities for a while!

The Route Part 2 - Mara Posting

Five months after my infamous 18-hour bus ride through Laos (http://gregandmara.blogspot.com.ar/2012/01/route-mara-posting.html), I found myself on another long distance bus. This time, it was a 20 hour ride, and I was on the top of the bus; in front, where I could see all of the scenery and our near-accidents.  It was a double decker bus, with 3-in-a-row, 180 degree reclining seats instead of a wheel well, wooden seats, and plastic stools up the aisle with people hanging their heads, trying to sleep. Instead of a roadside stand for a dinner of fish noodle soup, an attendant served me a tray of meats and cheeses (and a glass of champagne).  There was a bathroom on board (so if anyone needed to vomit, they did not have to use a plastic bag and through it out the window). A DVD played, followed by music videos.  And there were no live chickens (or roosters) on board.

Instead of leaving a herd of elephants in a small town, I left a city seething with 15 million people: 18 lanes of traffic on a main road, followed by pedestrian malls of shoulder to shoulder, gray and black jacketed businessmen.  I watched endless streams of people pass by in both directions as I sat at the station. Every 5 minutes, at least 3 buses departed. A line of computer screens indicated which of the 50-some gates my bus would leave from. It was slightly different from the single ticket booth with 50 passengers waiting quietly outside in Laos!

La Linda, Salta!

Who needs amusement parks and malls when you have the Plaza de San Martin in Salta filled with kids, dogs, pigeons and sun. My first experience with Catholicism where I felt the real energy of the religion and appreciated it. The bells began to ring around three, and almost as loud as the Muslim call to prayer. Within minutes that beautiful old Spanish Cathedral in the ciudad centro was like a magnet. First came the groups of young people with local prayer flags. Then the blue-white-sun of the national symbol in large crowds. You’d understand why it looks that way after you see a “buen dia” out west here. Next the monks and nuns in brown robes and the familias. The music, full of the organ, echoed through the entire plaza like a grand outdoor cathedral. Then a beautiful old Argentine couple sat down next to us and introduced themselves. They treated that same bench we had sat on for hours like a church pew. He sang with outstretched arms and half-closed eyes, did the sign of the cross at the exact moments, and relaxed in the winter sun. I’ve always thought that religious experiences should be outdoors. Near what I consider the finest gifts of our maker. And so did they. Affirming and lovely. I will never forget it.

Baths and Baritones in Budapest - Mara posting

Hundreds of people, all colors, shapes, sizes, and hairiness, relaxed together in the sun. Every one of them had the same reaction to the 35+ degree celsius mineral baths: "Ahhhhhh!" (as they slowly lowered themselves). And every one of them had the same reaction to the 15 degree celsius cold plunge: "Ahhhhhhh!" (as they laughed and either dunked or hesitated, depending on the competition).

Old Hungarian men played chess in chest-high water with an entourage of tanned onlookers. Shower-capped women swam laps. British bachelors drank beer and retold stories from the night before. At the Szechenyi Baths in Budapest, everyone was equal. We spent an entire day in the 16 different pools, some surrounded by marble pillars. Two men tied as "best dressed": One man wore a speedo under his enormous midriff and a tiny white "gone fishin!" t-shirt (wet, of course), which barely came past his nipples. The other wore a pair of white tighty-whities as his swimsuit.

That night, we paid $5 each to attend "Tosca" at the State opera house. Our seats were the first row of the highest balcony, all the way to the right (so I could see the cellos and a sliver of the stage), but it didn't matter. The sound was incredible. In fact, it was so good, I went to a ballet the following night!

Northwest Argentina Road Trip

Here's a map of our plan for northwest Argentina with a rental car for the week of June 11th-18th, 2012

http://www.tripline.net/trip/Argentina_2012-51235266127410058800971AB7E392ED

Chinesischer-Turm-Biergarten

Not a half bad looking beer maiden

The Englischer Garten (German for "English Garden") is a large public
park in the centre of Munich stretching from the city center almost to the city limits. With an area of 1.4 square miles (910 acres), the Englischer Garten is one of the world's largest parks, larger than New York's Central Park 

Mara and I were particularly interested in about 4 acres of this park.  The Chinesischer-Turm-Biergarten (German for ""Chinese Pagoda Beer Garden", duh!).  We had a nice, cold beer and a massive pretzel while a big, loud  "Oompah" band provided the entertainment on a warm Sunday afternoon.

Case of the Missing Jacket

A copy of this sign is going up in my bathroom when I get home!

Justin Walley, this one is for you.  We're standing out in front of a typical Riga nightclub after a couple of drinks, waiting for the girls who have lost their jacket (again!).  Its been a long night of traditional Latvian dancing and good local beers.  Justin and I are ready to head back to the apartment for some shut eye.  I jokingly point to the jacket hanging on the lamppost behind Justin (who is ranting on about getting old for this sort of thing) and suggest that maybe we trick her into thinking that this one is hers.  Its dark out and everyone is a little schnockered. He turns and decides that this is, in fact, a good idea.  He runs it down to the bar and pretty soon everyone comes out in an uproar.  Somehow, someone had taken her jacket out of the bar and then left it hanging out front!  A deliberative thief, a confused drunk, no one will ever know.  Certainly not something that happens every day.  Thanks again for the hospitality, Justin.  We really enjoyed our time in Latvia and hope to visit again someday.

State Hermitage Museum

One of the largest and oldest museums of the world, it was founded in 1764 by Catherine the Great and has been open to the public since 1852. Its collections, of which only a small part is on permanent display, comprise nearly 3 million items, including the largest collection of paintings in the world. The collections occupy a large complex of six historic buildings along the Neva River, including the Winter Palace, a former residence of Russian emperors.

We spent almost 10 hours touring the museum over the course of two days!  This is a personal record for us.  It was worth every minute.  The collections on ancient Russian cultures and ethnology were outstanding.  Or how about the oldest known existing Turkish style rug in the world (almost 1400 years)?  But, if I had to pick my favorites, they would be the collections of European, Japanese Samurai and Moghul Indian armor and weapons.  Absolutely perfect couple of days of travel.  My legs and eyes will hurt for a week, but oh so good!

My personal favorite photo of the trip.  Note the similarities with the painting.

A Finnish Sauna

My cousin, Sean Lecoultre, and his "Sweet Lil' Finn" Laura Puhakainen suggested that we should go for a sauna.  No, in fact, thats an understatement.  They actually said "You haven't been to Finland until you've had a sauna!".  I couldn't agree more after a couple rounds of sitting in a 180 degree, wood-fired cabin style sauna and then jumping directly into the ice cold lake.  Thanks for the experience guys!  Life can be quite simple, in fact.  I've come to appreciate that!

Danish Bikers

The bicycle rules the road in Denmark.  So many types.  Here's a few.

Swedish Fish

I like smoked fish (esp. mackerel and kipper).  I like Sweden.
I like Swedish Fish. Thanks to Felicia and Loa for all of the hospitality! 

Movin' on in Morocco - Mara posting

In the shoulder-width alley, I flatten myself against a red stuccoed wall as a motorbike grazes my ankle, a bicyclist swerves to avoid a head-on collision, and a donkey cart suddenly stops a foot in front of me.  A burka-donned woman pushes her way through, without hesitation. Chrome teasets, lanterns, curly toed leather slippers, patterned rugs and ceramics spill from shops, while vendors peddle raw goat heads, carts of flatbread, oranges, and pastries. Aromas of baking bread, heaps of spearmint, and bags of cumin intermix with the stench of diesel and sewer.

A dozen people want to be my guide: “Big plaza? It’s this way,” (pointing in every direction except for where I am headed), “That way is closed.”  A dozen more are convinced that I need to urgently buy a rug. I keep my sunglasses on and somehow manage to simultaneously step over a miscolored puddle, avoid an oncoming pushcart, see a cat run from a falling box, and make the correct turn into an unmarked alley.  And so it goes in Marrakech, a city pulsing with life.  A city with thousands of perfectly manicured roses and a hundred orange juice carts with matching signs lined up amidst tourist crowds, camels, mule carts, taxis, mopeds, escargot stands, acrobats, and even a monkey in diapers. It’s the Morocco I had imagined.

What I didn’t expect was its diversity. We disembarked in the quiet new port of Tangiers in the middle of fog and chilly rain.  On the five hour train ride to Sale, we passed mile after mile of green, sheep-speckled hillsides and rolling fields of wheat. Did the ferry take a wrong turn? Were we in Ireland? 

The landscape changed again as we ascended into the High Atlas mountains for an incredible three day trek with our Berber guide, Mohammed.  14,000 foot snow-covered peaks towered above sienna-colored villages and glowing green terraces, full of flowering apple trees.  Mules, goats, and sheep outnumbered people, and there wasn’t a camel in sight.  Nighttime temperatures were near freezing, but the heaps  of couscous, tagines, and Berber tea (sweet thyme) kept us warm. 

Our jaunt to the desert only took us as far as Ouarzazate (that's like going to Phoenix and not seeing the Grand Canyon, but I couldn't bear to take another 10 hour one way bus ride for only a few days).  It's the American southwest times ten: red rocks, rocky mountains, and chameleon homes hidden amongst the mesas and date palms. 

And now we're off to see the sea!

Where's Mara???

Modes of Moroccan Mobility

The Philippines only had 3 major modes of transport.  Morocco seems to have almost an infinite number. Here's just a few...........

The taxi of the mountains.  Sure footed, reliable, friendly!

Unfortunately, there's not a lot of water in Morocco

Taxis, petite or grande, they're everywhere!

The Moped.  Noisy, smokey, but oh so interesting!

An obvious choice.  Not so friendly!


 

And you thought you liked the "Dollar Menu"

Here's what you get in the US for a buck.  And no, I do not endorse MCDeez products.
http://www.mcdonalds.com/us/en/food/meal_bundles/dollar_menu.html

I do, however, endorse the street vendor meals from everywhere we've been; especially, Marrakech - home of the cheapest meal we've had to date.  Only 8 dirhams or one US dollar.

Crepe d'epices (mostly eaten), Harira tomato and lentil soup, salt, cumin and chile! Yum! Oh and don't forget sweet tea (not pictured)

My 1st Hammam (Steam Bath)

Mara and I decided to head over the neighborhood Hammam this afternoon after a hot and dusty day walking around the Moroccan desert.  Girls in one door, boys in the other.  10 DH fee ($1.20) and you're in (for the experience of a lifetime!).   Wow!

A "guide" for the Hammam experience is called a "Kassal" (not a Taybeh like Mara's worthless guide book said).  I don't know what Taybeh translates too, but judging from the response it wasn't something nice.  My kassal looked like an African Jackie Chan. I guess standing in steam bath and beating people up all day makes you fit.  He spoke some French and I quickly learned the following 5 words in a one hour session.

1. C’est bon:  This is where I’m supposed to reply that it’s “very good” that he is torturing me.

2. Comme ca:  Like this.  As in I’m going to manipulate you spine into a pretzel, like this.

3. Asseyez vous:  Sit down.  I’m going to dump several buckets of cold water over your head.

4. Allonge vous: Stand up. I’m going to scrub you so hard with the mitt you’ll want to cry.

5. Voila:  Well done.  As in, well done you didn’t cry like a baby.

 

The mitt of death!

 

The Buddhists throw down a rigorous Thai massage. The Christians have baptisms. Muslims will give you both in a Hammam (AKA Turkish Bath) for the tidy sum of around 50 dirhams (6 US dollars).  It is essentially another 10 step process, with ludicrous amounts of water.  The guide book (once again worthless. Why have I been dragging this around?) stated that because Morocco is a desert country it is offensive to use too much water.  These are the same people that stated that Asians don't spit because they would be worried about "losing face".  Complete bull shit. 

1. Scrub down with fishy black oil. Smells bad, but gets the job done. Rinse.

2. Thai massage times ten. Full range of spinal manipulations in the hot room.

3. Scrub down with a rough mitt (Kese) in cool room:  They never touch your head or your privates. You do that yourself. Every other square inch gets scrubbed. And when I say scrubbed, I mean scrubbed, hard.

4. Hair Wash with the little spiny brush in the picture.  Feels nice.  Hot Rinse. 

5. Hair conditioning back in the cool room. Also nice.  Cold Rinse.

6. Lemon soap.  Full scrub down and lathering.  Made my eyes burn. Hot Rinse. 

7. Now, we're getting to spiritual part. Cold buckets of water dumped over head. 

8. The Kassal is done with his part.  Hang out in the cool room for a while and realize that you actually enjoyed the whole experience.  Notice how smooth your skin feels.

9. Bicker over price for a while.  This is an integral part of any Moroccan experience. 

10. Big smile.  Shokran! Merci Beaucoup!  Thank you! Right hand to heart your heart.

Páscoa (Easter) almoço (lunch) in Azeitao, Portugal

Many thanks to Maria and Francisco Lavrador for having us out to Quinta das Amoreiras for Easter Lunch.  When I asked if it was "OK" if my Dad and Nancy came out, making us four, Maria quickly replied via SMS text "Its Ok.  We'll have an international lunch!"  Little did I know that a good friend we had made during a cooking class in Chiang Mai, Thailand, would give us an Easter day experience of a lifetime.  

For those of you that think that La Quinta is a hotel chain in the western US that accepts dogs, I'm here to set you straight.  Spanish & Portuguese, quinta, farm rented at one fifth of its income, from Latin, feminine of quintus fifth.   Modern definition: Exactly the type of country estate that I am trying to emulate (along with the entire population of the San Francisco Bay Area).  Dogs, Cats, Chickens, Exotic Birds, Black Pigs (AKA chorizo ala casa), ducks (at also part of lunch), friendly pet donkeys, year-round vegetable garden, 200 olive trees that produce 360 litres of olive oil on a good year and lemon trees to boot.  Now I understand why Maria makes the commute to from Azeitoa to Lisbn to work everyday.  The Portugese countryside is unparalleled in our travels!  

Nancy's first reaction was, "It feels like we are in a photo shoot for Food and Wine magazine!"  My dad seemed like he would never stop smiling.  Mara just enjoyed the food and the company.  I had a couple smokes and a whiskey with Francisco while we checked out the antiques around the house.  What a day!  There were 14 place settings at this wonderful country table (Maria is a bit superstitious, for good reason).  Where were you?

Spanish Sidra!

I think I've found my calling in life. Spanish style hard apple cider - SIDRA!  The culture, the pour, the flavor of slow fermented, bone dry and tangy hard cider.  Now its time to plant trees and take the weeklong cider-making course!  It makes me excited to get home and start another phase in my life.

A busy month for cats

After last night, I  understand what it means when all of the Turks tell me "March is a very busy month for the cats". Ask me about it next time you see me and I will explain it in painstaking detail to you!

If you're ever in Turkey, get a shave.

Notice the close shave on all of these guys!

I'm going to chalk this one up to good luck and curiousity.  I have walked past more barbers in Turkey in the last two weeks than I think I saw in the previous 20.  Turkish men are a fairly hairy bunch and can grow a beard like you would not believe.  So I decided to step into a shop this fine, sunny afternoon and see what all the hype is about.  Boy, am I glad that I did.

Our Turkish rug dealer in Goreme, promised me that if you spread the wealth, it will come back to you triple-fold in life, so I'm giving a new philosophy a try when it comes to money. Today proved it to me once again when I went for the 20 TRY ($10) for two hours option (versus 6 TRY for a haircut at "Mentors") Wow!  Who needs a tourist hamam, when you have a good old fashioned barber (or Berber on all of the signs in Turkey).  Makes Supercuts and the Gillette Quattro (with those ridiculously over-priced razors that never fit the exact handle you have) seem like just another one of those things in America that just isn't quite right.  

Here's what you get at a Turkish Barber for less than 10 bucks:

1.  Wash your hair - This one seems pretty standard.  I have even had this done before in the US, of course they charge you an extra 5 bucks for it there.  Also, its nice to lean forward into real sink in Turkey, rather than back into the big plastic washbasins that they use back home.

2.  Meticulous, hour long scissor cut - I thought the Vietnamese had an eye for a haircut.  Wow!  It feels like you're having a surgery, with each precise snip of the barber critical to the outcome.

3.  Warm brushing of shaving cream - I'm going to buy a nice brush and some good old fashioned shaving soap when I get home.  No more Gillette out of a can.  The warmer and fluffier, the better.

4.  Straight Razor Shave - If you've never done it, you're going to love it.   A bit nerve wracking at first, the pinching and prodding of your skin to get just the right angle, but the result is outstanding.

5.  Burning piece of oily cloth - Not sure what this part is about.  It felt very hot and smelled stange.

6.  Detail Trim - Out come the little scissors and the magnifying glass.  Away go the nose and ear hairs, the mono-brow and any other stray hairs that they may have missed with the straight razor.

7.  Face Wash - Begins with the hot towel. The hotter the better.  I mean really hot. Then facedown into the sink again for a vigorous scrubbing.  Then a barrage of lotion, talcum powder and cologne.

8.  Massage - At a barbershop, really?  These guys beat you up!  It hurts (but, oh so good!)

9.  Hairstyle - A couple scoops of hair gel or some spray and about 5 minutes of tinkering.

10.  Wash you sunglasses,  cup of tea in tulip glass, brief history of Ataturk's life, cigarette.


Do I sound like a metrosexual yet?  Well that's fine, because the Turk men line up for this procedure and it doesn't seem to have harmed their machismo in the least bit.  In fact, it may actually feed it!

Day Tripping in Nairobi - Mara posting

Our friend Madison arranged several day trip tours for us from Nairobi. He took us to Mount Longonot and Lake Navasha on Saturday.  Mount Longonot is about an hour and a half from Nairobi. After passing through the city and surrounding towns, the road drops into the rift valley. There are several lookout platforms and souvenir shops on the descent, although you may want to stay on the pavement. 

It was a cloudless day. We left Nairobi at 7:30 and started hiking around 10 (we had a few stops in Nairobi along the way).  The hike climbs steeply up to the crater rim (the sign indicate it is 8 km from the gate).  You can continue the walk around the rim, up to the summit (another 10 km round trip from the crater rim).  There are views the entire way: zebras off in the distance, the endless rift valley, Lake Navasha, and miles of glittering greenhouses (Kenya is one of the biggest rose producers in the world). 

Parts of the trail are incredibly steep and dusty, but that doesn’t seem to deter hundreds of people of all ages and dozens of Kenyan runners who breeze past, barely out of breath.  At one point, as I withered in the sun, desperately looking for shade on the descent, hundreds of school children came flying down the path at full speed, raising plumes of dust: a herd of mini wildebeasts and gazelles migrating.  There were even a few stragglers who opted to pick their way down the path instead of running (and they were still twice as fast as me!).  I would have definitely been the lion’s prey.
The entire hike took us about 4-5 hours total – sandy, dusty, and in equatorial sun – and cost $20 for nonresident park fee.  Bring LOTS of water and sunscreen! The ranger may try to convince you to hire a guide, but it is completely unnecessary.

 Hungry and thirsty, we drove half an hour to Navasha Lake and stopped at Fisherman’s Camp – a campsite underneath giant acacia trees, with an electric fence to keep the hippos out and two monkeys scheming to steal food.  We plopped down on the bar patio, as “Let’s have a party” blared on repeat.  Our blue cheese bacon mushroom burgers weren’t nearly as tasty as the name implies, but after a steep 10 mile hike, they did the trick, with the help of some Fanta, tuskers, savannah cider, and several bottles of water. 

Our adventure continued on the ride back up the rift valley. Frank, our driver suddenly showed signs of a severe vision impairment, as we bumped, swerved, braked, and passed trucks while the sun descended.  Quite a memorable day!

Honeycare Africa - Nairobi, Kenya

Thanks to Madison, Natasha, Alex and the rest of the crew for letting us hang out for a couple of days.  It's exciting stuff you guys are working on and we look forward to staying updated and involved!

Maasai Mara Safari in Kenya

Our friend, Sachin Dave, made it clear that you haven’t been to Kenya until you’ve been on a safari, so away we went.  We’re exactly halfway through the trip (month 4 out of 8 in total) and right on budget, so we decided that we could afford a splurge for the Maasai Mara Game Reserve (and what a good decision it was). The word “Mara” translates to something like “place of beauty” and it sure is (I just threw that line in to get brownie points with my wife). The landscape is one part big fluffy clouds in a blue bird sky and one part golden sea of grass.  Above the surface is an incredible display of the power of evolution.  There is such a diversity of large antelopes and grazers that no one can deny the science after seeing this place.  Below the surface of the grass lurk the big cats and canines.  We saw the “Big Five” and many more.  But what impressed me more than anything else here was the people.  The tourists from all over the world were, well, they just were.  But the indigenous people, who have carved out a living in this wild country, give off an energy like I have none other I have experienced.  Maybe it’s all the jumping, or the beautiful clothes, but I’ll never forget them.  The Kenyan tour guides and drivers were even more fun.  They speak in codes over the radio, smile and laugh constantly, and ultimately seem to be having a better time than the wealthy tourists who have spent so much time and money to get here.  I think we could all learn a thing or two from these folks. 

Singapore Sling

It’s raining in Singapore today, but still bloody hot.  Typical.  There are two things (beyond the opulent wealth) that I really notice about this tiny city-state nation.  One is acronyms. Some of you know that I used to GIS and GPS for the NPS (National Park Service) and BLM (Bureau of Land Management), but they take it to a whole new level here.   Sure, Malaysia has acronyms for city names like KL (Kuala Lumpur) and KK (Kota Kinabalu), but Singapore seems to use them for everything!  Just read a newspaper from here and you’ll know what I mean (“4C vs 8L is LO-BKK ASAP).  The other thing I notice is the long lines (or Queues or Qs or whatever you want to call them) for everything.  In Singapore there’s a line to get in, to get on, to check in, to eat (which, by the way is well worth it here), to go to the zoo (again, well worth it), to take a piss.  Well, you get where I’m going with this.  I suppose like New York or Rome, everyone has to see this city at least once in their lifetime.  But it sure makes me appreciate the small, lakeside town that we live in North Idaho.  Don’t get me wrong, we were both very impressed by this highly functional, diversified, globalized and sterilized place.  Just not my thing.

Malaysian Foodies

After all of the hiking in the caves of Gunung Mulu we were pretty hungry.  So we flew direct from the tiny Mulu Airport to Kuching, Sarawak in southern Borneo for $40US total (thank you AirAsia – what an airline!) and had a massive lunch for $4US at the local food court.  I LOVE MALAYSIA!  Mee is noodles. Nasi is rice.  Goreng is fried.  So, Nasi Goreng is fried rice.  But wait, it comes in at least two dozen versions.  And really there is at 3 basic kinds of noodles (beehon is thin like ramen, kaoy teow is thick and yellow, and then plain old spaghetti-like mee).  Add in your basic soups (laksa, tom yam, chicken), desserts (cendol shakes, layer cakes, coconut everything, loads of palm sugar – wow, there must be a lot of diabetics here), seafood, nice vegetarian Indian food, not so nice greasy Chinese food, traditional cuisine (Nonya and other specialties), and you have the makings of some the thickest menus and busiest cooks in the world. 

Map of our Final Itinerary

http://www.tripline.net/trip/RTW_2011-567116073410100490E6AE0CA6D9B9E0

Final Itinerary

Wow, we've been busy booking flights.  Almost 50 total this year.  Here's our final itinerary!

http://www.tripit.com/trip/public/id/1E35D2CDED86

Gunung Mulu – a short novel - Mara posting

See the ropes?

The saying, “There is nothing to fear but fear itself” does not apply when you find yourself dangling from a rope off a sheer, slick rock face, over an abyss.  I wasn’t quite dangling; I had a firm grip on the wet rope and my feet were planted in two tiny footholds (but they were shaking so hard and the rock was so slick, it felt like I was dangling).  And the rock face wasn’t sheer; most people would clamber up or down with only a pause. And it wasn’t really an abyss; I could see the bottom, but it looked like a long, long way down. While it only felt like I was dangling off a rope over an abyss, to me, there was in fact more to fear than fear itself.

Somehow I overcame the fear, and I made it down that seemingly sheer rock cliff with only a rope; and then I made it up and down at least five more of them.  In between bouts of panic, there were stretches of sheer awe.  We were in Racer Cave at Gunung Mulu National Park.  The cave was alive.  Amidst the constant dripping water, there were swiftlets, bats, crickets, spiders bigger than my hand (literally), and cave snakes; ceilings taller than the reach of my headlamp, 20 foot mounds of guano crawling with cockroaches; and when the lights went out, utter and total darkness. 

Gunung Mulu has been a highlight of our trip.  We spent five nights and four days in a tropical rainforest, exploring caves and the tree canopy, sleeping in dry beds, and eating decent food.  I assumed such an experience would be completely out of our price range (it is if you book a package from a travel agent).  We ended up spending less per day than travelling on a strict budget in New Zealand.  I include our costs to help anyone planning their own trips (currently 3 MYR = 1 USD).  You do have to pay for almost every activity, as guides are mandatory (although not necessarily helpful or informative).

We flew from Kota Kinabalu to Mulu on MAS Wings and from Mulu to Kuching for $45 per person. The 5 minute van ride to the park cost MYR 5 per person, but you could easily walk. Our first full day at the park, we saw Deer Cave, the world’s biggest known cavern (can you see the person in this photo?). There is a 3 km boardwalk that leads to the entrance, where waterfalls spatter down, swiftlets and bats chatter, and the acrid smell of guano fills the air.  At the back of the cave, we left the boardwalk with our guide, then scrambled over boulders, guano, and through the river up into the “Garden of Eden” (which was not a garden, but a waterfall surrounded by limestone and vegetation and a few accompanying leeches). The tour came back through Deer Cave, and ended with a loop into Lagang Cave.  It poured that evening, so we were unable to watch the bats leave the cave (Deer Cave tour is MYR 20; the Valley hike we did was MYR 105 per person and included lunch).  Day 2 was Racer Cave (where I feared more than fear itself: 4 hours of climbing, sweating, and exploring for MYR 95 per person).

Day 3 started at 9 am with a longboat ride to a small morning market, then onto Cave of the Winds and Clearwater Cave – both amazing caves that have extensive boardwalks, and hundreds of stairs (MYR 20 for the cave tour, MYR 30 for boat trip).  They were much busier than Deer Cave, but compared to Carlsbad Caverns and other caves I have seen, the number of people was manageable.  At noon, the other ten people on our tour took the boat back, but we opted to walk. The walk is supposedly 3 km (although, it took us an hour and a half), and winds up through Moonmilk cave (bring a flashlight), and climbs back down into the jungle for the remainder of the walk. It was incredibly peaceful, as we were the only people on the trail, and it gave us the chance to appreciate the rainforest plants and insects.  That evening we went back to watch the bats leave Deer Cave.  At 6:25, thousands of bats spiraled up and out of the caves and into the sky.  The walk back in the dark was magical, with fireflies floating in the air, amidst a cacophony of night noises (including an insect we named the “hoover bug,” since it sounds like a vacuum cleaner.)

I celebrated my birthday 30 meters in the tree canopy.  We did the canopy walk on Day 4 and learned about the trees and insects (MYR 70 per person). 

For accommodations, we stayed in the park hostel for two nights (MYR 40 per person) – it’s adequate, but anytime you have 20 people in one room, a good night of sleep is questionable. We spent the other two nights in a longhouse room (MYR 180), which was huge, clean, and a treat after several nights in hostels. Breakfast was included (Asian or western fare, good coffee).  Although there are a few places nearby, we ate all our other meals at the cafeteria (which were all good to excellent, and usually cost $10-15 total per meal for the two of us). 
Our total cost for the two of us to spend 5 days and 4 nights, including all of the hikes and caving adventures and domestic flights was $550.  The feeling of making it out alive after dangling from a rope off a cliff over an abyss: priceless.  I would go back in a heartbeat!