tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83291961130441620782024-02-19T17:46:47.535-08:00The Adventures of a Canuck and Her Backpack“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.” – Paul TherouxMeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-34034713671356655712012-06-04T16:58:00.000-07:002012-06-04T16:58:40.770-07:00From Bali to Java with Enthusiasm!You know that place in movies where a car of friends breaks down and half of them are saying things like "Guy's we can't stay here." "It's weird we need to get out ASAP." And a couple others are saying, "Oh come on it's fine!" "Yeah nothing is going to happen, stop being babies!" and then they are all murdered in horrible ways, except for one that ends up laying on the side of the road all bloody from her daring escape, that's the place we ended up. We were all joking about the movie thing but I think deep down we really were a bit nervous! No transport out, no internet, probably no cell service and a volcano still decently active! I'd also come up with the scenario that in the night we"d be captured and sacrificed to some dinosaur like creature that stops the volcano from erupting and destroying the town, but that seems a bit more far-fetched!<br />
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Mia wanted to do a volcano trek so off to Toya Bungkah we went. We knew it was off-season but that hasn't stopped us from running into loads of travelers everywhere we go. So it was a bit shocking to discover that we were pretty much the only 4 foreigners in this little town that was probably a great place many, many years ago! Upon arriving we headed out for lunch and then decided to walk down to the lake. It wasn't long before a little girl was hot on our heels trying to sell us snacks and she wouldn't take no for an answer. At one point I even had to suppress an overwhelming urge to push her into the murky water. Other people half-assed trying sell us pictures or bracelets, they sort-of resembled zombies saying braaaceleeeets, paiiintiiings, maaaaaaaaaa as they slowly approached us. <br />
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Other than volcano trekking and fly swatting there appears to be absolutely nothing to do there. So we ended up partaking in what seems to be a local pastime, people watching from the porch of our bungalow. Mia's trek began at 4am and after sh<span id="goog_2048945109"></span><span id="goog_2048945110"></span>e'd returned and rested for a couple hours we headed for Lovina to catch another ride to the port and onto a ferry bound for Java.<br />
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We stayed for one night in the city next to the port... I have no idea what it was called but we discovered an amazing pancake/cheese/crepe thing and have since been trying to locate more! In the morning we headed to the bus station and caught the "express" bus to Solo. We were told that if we left right away @ about 10:30am we'd arrive in Solo by 7,9 or 8... yes 7,9 or 8 that night AND it didn't stop it went STRAIGHT there. Well, we must have all had some kind of blackout because we forgot how good the people here are at telling you straight up what was about to happen!<br />
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The bus stopped several times to pick people up. It was pouring for most of the trip inside and outside of the bus. The AC was up full blast and by the end of our not 10 but 16 hour damp journey we all had the beginnings of a cold! LOVELY! It would have been great had they just said, yeah it's going to take 16 hours because we would have been prepared! <br />
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When we arrived in Solo we were ushered to a bemo that probably shouldn't have been allowed to carry fruit let alone people. Ally's door wouldn't shut, the guy couldn't get his open, then it wouldn't start and then it smoked and then we stopped to check the tires before he stopped outside a dark alley and pointed to it saying we had arrived at the homestay. It turned out that the alley did indeed lead to the homestay and after standing outside ringing the bell a weary little guy opened the door and took us to a couple rooms!<br />
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So far Java is proving to be far superior to Bali. People allow you to go about your business without hassling you. We found a place with internet for next to nothing, laundry service WITH a dryer and cheap food and drinks! Now if we could just find some fruit we'd all be beyond happy!<br />
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Soon we'll be heading up to Yogyakarta where we'll hopefully hit up some lovely temples before moving up to Jakarta and onto Singapore.Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-31573858660434905852011-06-18T05:51:00.000-07:002011-06-21T18:09:38.133-07:00The Plight of the Asian Elephant Part 1<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgff60A8gAsUJ8pMVk9b6rN4uXyxxoaOviPYewKIiDOw5Dd6K8dWaV5QvnHMxw7JDfQi5M_1AYmOmFqTvoa3PU434MG8-2bmOtRtD65bbfwIHLdR8oooaJtjdOLjSdFInk7OymFtj2Gpx8/s1600/IMG_8984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgff60A8gAsUJ8pMVk9b6rN4uXyxxoaOviPYewKIiDOw5Dd6K8dWaV5QvnHMxw7JDfQi5M_1AYmOmFqTvoa3PU434MG8-2bmOtRtD65bbfwIHLdR8oooaJtjdOLjSdFInk7OymFtj2Gpx8/s320/IMG_8984.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land mine victim since 1999</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrIXYLVBRHP0HtSV9KfceQSsACAqz2byvSm6bf4iX7i4o8pK1COXQt4vu9BDm68SlCcyOC20YcbC984YZ3DJ1Jyz4LJn5vXS2zGCPKJVugod0emWGauCGSTgtwTThilevFCRuwip-Y7w/s1600/IMG_9050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrIXYLVBRHP0HtSV9KfceQSsACAqz2byvSm6bf4iX7i4o8pK1COXQt4vu9BDm68SlCcyOC20YcbC984YZ3DJ1Jyz4LJn5vXS2zGCPKJVugod0emWGauCGSTgtwTThilevFCRuwip-Y7w/s320/IMG_9050.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land mine victim since 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When most people think of elephants they think of the giants of African plains and Asian rainforests. I’ve never met someone that didn’t like an elephant. They draw big crowds at zoos and oo’s and awes on safaris and no one goes to Southeast Asia without coming back with a great elephant trekking story. Well I’ve returned from Southeast Asia and I don’t have an elephant trekking story to share. I did not sit in a wooden throne balanced upon an elephants back, nor did I watch in wonder as an elephant guided his paintbrush into a bucket of paint and across a blank canvas. I saw no elephants play soccer or dunk basketballs. I am one of a few travellers that ventured to Thailand without any intention of buying into the typical elephant tourism. Ok I admit that I was interested in the painting aspect but that was until I read more about it.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Did you know that a century ago 100,000 elephants roamed the forests of Thailand? Did you know that a decade ago that number was down to 25,000? How about in 2011, how many Asian elephants do you think survive today? 20,000? 15,000? How about 5,000. It took 90 years for 75,000 elephants to fade into memory and only 10 for 20,000 to vanish. It is scary to think that within this decade they may disappear altogether.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqzVa9ZdfN5vhTarCk_zXIvY0tTmraprjdtuMCHYs9frt42XTZPgeQjRQYiOguJT-_oM2V6MZlsJWwcuNqRT0AybA-4B2ufAlRf4X-8zfjBxK0E6ARO08Sm2g_jiCiqqUUUtu-P6P9gU/s1600/IMG_8386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqzVa9ZdfN5vhTarCk_zXIvY0tTmraprjdtuMCHYs9frt42XTZPgeQjRQYiOguJT-_oM2V6MZlsJWwcuNqRT0AybA-4B2ufAlRf4X-8zfjBxK0E6ARO08Sm2g_jiCiqqUUUtu-P6P9gU/s320/IMG_8386.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Broken back from over breeding</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">The Asian elephant is to Thailand what hockey is to Canada. It is a national symbol existing proudly as one of the most important cultural icons. At one time they were the nations loggers, tractors, tanks and above all, most sacred creatures. Today they are losing their fight to have a place in modern Thailand. It is not uncommon to see a young elephant begging for money on the streets of Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Carrying bags of fruit an elephant and his mahout approach tourists who pay to feed the elephant. It is an excellent way to make money but elephants weren’t meant to live in a city. They are too sensitive to vibrations and sounds to be completely engulfed by them and this environment is enough to drive an elephant mad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgfeInS-rZUuxVdSo7JhzWXFbTauOjEuIRcgRYlXavEG3b1G0S4Ngh9ge3UL5f8D69qriHZdfltk5PGHU6E2mT7abgATZBMpJ91GFXGKjMEqfNe-ozqYnqNNRwO4YnS1R5j42ealAGJU/s1600/IMG_8990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgfeInS-rZUuxVdSo7JhzWXFbTauOjEuIRcgRYlXavEG3b1G0S4Ngh9ge3UL5f8D69qriHZdfltk5PGHU6E2mT7abgATZBMpJ91GFXGKjMEqfNe-ozqYnqNNRwO4YnS1R5j42ealAGJU/s320/IMG_8990.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land mine victim since the age of 11 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Elephant trekking camps exist all over the country, especially in Thailand’s second largest city, the northernly located Chiang Mai. You can’t walk 10 feet in Chiang Mai without coming across a poster and brochures embezzled with phrases like “Train to become a mahout!” “See the jungles of Thailand onboard your very own elephant!” Your very own elephant? Well how can anyone resist that! I mean I’m sure everyone has at one point in his or her life thought, geez I want an elephant! “Play soccer with the largest animal on earth!” “Watch as our elephants create masterpieces right in front of your eyes!” It’s tempting and all the hype can overwhelm even the most conscientious traveler.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Many people are unaware that many elephants used for trekking are worked nonstop. They head out with a rider or 2 and have a half second of rest before the next interested party hops onboard. Often elephants are guided by mahouts to paint using a nail concealed in the mahouts hand and pressed against the elephants trunk. People treat their cars better than many elephant trekking and elephant tourism places treat their elephants.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Of course before an elephant can be used to haul equipment or people they have to be trained. To train an elephant many believe it’s important to break its spirit. They are taken away from their mothers and put into an enclosure just big enough for them to fit. Then they are tied, beaten and starved for days until they are willing to submit to their masters. It is a shockingly cruel procedure that many deem a necessity. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5NFydH7J-NxoI0yJ0adFcmgU8w2OQkBmhuWUiNLeanUEprJiTgKIMLLKZI38cLLU1ezoOSCY_Othoz9L1NKbrOE6iai8Q8WAfrkx3wUewgyfrcyWMKN9F64e6fFREsZYlx9RPeBW6xU/s1600/IMG_9065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5NFydH7J-NxoI0yJ0adFcmgU8w2OQkBmhuWUiNLeanUEprJiTgKIMLLKZI38cLLU1ezoOSCY_Othoz9L1NKbrOE6iai8Q8WAfrkx3wUewgyfrcyWMKN9F64e6fFREsZYlx9RPeBW6xU/s320/IMG_9065.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stressed aggressive male</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">There is some hope however with more and more tourists jumping on the eco-friendly tour bandwagon. In part 2 of this entry I will tell what some amazing Thai's and foreigners are doing to ensure that these fantastic beasts are around for years to come! Trust me when I say you can have an amazing elephant related holiday without the hype, cruelty and cheap factor.</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-35825552375213499712011-06-09T22:19:00.000-07:002011-06-09T22:24:32.329-07:00A Day with Giants<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I feel truly lucky to have had the opportunity to spend the day at the Elephant Nature Park just outside of Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There is no elephant trekking. No elephants paint or play soccer or even dunk basketballs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKmls3mnWvj1XRMnZzjli7JpBqYqQmGhcKtJP8VO-dkddZsBt8T23MIWk4hTY6Pi4g9T022eoBXlnuxAhIHgQjuLC-8EwlSCUelezovQdfDpbLyUAUWO4AsPtCLDxIsuJPm8DJmGYA7A/s1600/IMG_8752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFKmls3mnWvj1XRMnZzjli7JpBqYqQmGhcKtJP8VO-dkddZsBt8T23MIWk4hTY6Pi4g9T022eoBXlnuxAhIHgQjuLC-8EwlSCUelezovQdfDpbLyUAUWO4AsPtCLDxIsuJPm8DJmGYA7A/s320/IMG_8752.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The elephants stand where they'd like.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOIFYbvnTy_Q7Qs1c6S3fGEmHuRh1-lOBd9U4_vZ7D7hWXJmkrk08TUuH64X0iEwuwV-5SWLXCQuj8um95q8pLQeKcNdUO876elG8prHMvohGLNxe8azsyp-bpnbs14npWtTjVY7dGfA/s1600/IMG_8825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOIFYbvnTy_Q7Qs1c6S3fGEmHuRh1-lOBd9U4_vZ7D7hWXJmkrk08TUuH64X0iEwuwV-5SWLXCQuj8um95q8pLQeKcNdUO876elG8prHMvohGLNxe8azsyp-bpnbs14npWtTjVY7dGfA/s320/IMG_8825.JPG" width="261" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They tell each other secrets.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6eGJF9NXGtfC6U6utJzPw_ZvE3Dn3vp_tjOeJKhdLFnjp3AnqdSjmSYnjLZktYEjjq7fby7rcwkw-ntAIomFZJBE2jGtFbTtcMHEFSnONOO4cZHXTiyF4SFJVX8BpWqP3Ay5UqaNho8/s1600/IMG_8842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6eGJF9NXGtfC6U6utJzPw_ZvE3Dn3vp_tjOeJKhdLFnjp3AnqdSjmSYnjLZktYEjjq7fby7rcwkw-ntAIomFZJBE2jGtFbTtcMHEFSnONOO4cZHXTiyF4SFJVX8BpWqP3Ay5UqaNho8/s320/IMG_8842.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They swim in the river.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroZytnFCr_PeVkdlwpjgXdMyWbX7Zl4-WFBKOVlFw_gcxDK9MfzcWnzdwA2liDUg0fjshcC93XmBtCRROjkGjvHpb5Cpsnk31YND1ALhm_AoDIaLvFN55_q0kcRCCGjAu82nBUQ6K7gQ/s1600/IMG_8850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroZytnFCr_PeVkdlwpjgXdMyWbX7Zl4-WFBKOVlFw_gcxDK9MfzcWnzdwA2liDUg0fjshcC93XmBtCRROjkGjvHpb5Cpsnk31YND1ALhm_AoDIaLvFN55_q0kcRCCGjAu82nBUQ6K7gQ/s320/IMG_8850.JPG" width="275" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They stick together. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sZeMIXCgvBkA5rN9F2x26WxruOAMRibbtM1rEpLtnEYLQHDKx0NBmU2GNDQuoJjbt8tvJVubGCtoIXQfXMA2RT2RqSoGacoK-C3ZTcgulrfo8zZNCEbd0O3Sdf_O6Cp3_SbBAAfrMek/s1600/IMG_8874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sZeMIXCgvBkA5rN9F2x26WxruOAMRibbtM1rEpLtnEYLQHDKx0NBmU2GNDQuoJjbt8tvJVubGCtoIXQfXMA2RT2RqSoGacoK-C3ZTcgulrfo8zZNCEbd0O3Sdf_O6Cp3_SbBAAfrMek/s320/IMG_8874.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They play like big children.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXihjuSn7Q2Bril08tcUYJ4g847DtZqPeg5PjD8xvEzEQ-8THrcSWz3qA_y0CkOByw5pfWYYS_4my1lualTjNLL4aP01y2SMmHE1yswE2uk4ff6AnrSb-jyQnmBjNJaJj08LK6wuXdBw/s1600/IMG_8882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXihjuSn7Q2Bril08tcUYJ4g847DtZqPeg5PjD8xvEzEQ-8THrcSWz3qA_y0CkOByw5pfWYYS_4my1lualTjNLL4aP01y2SMmHE1yswE2uk4ff6AnrSb-jyQnmBjNJaJj08LK6wuXdBw/s320/IMG_8882.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They laugh.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmdL8TAxUV__PWNduF8RdOlYrFLYEsHkAXr0pBRXusSQGX7mhHOAwUp5HRyI2O34xL6Ory563owjE3D73BimdQBEp7pSmLc2kgft5BfRTaAdOM4VacxpTIVtAdTvXUtuxS3ptaoL_UBA/s1600/IMG_8943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmdL8TAxUV__PWNduF8RdOlYrFLYEsHkAXr0pBRXusSQGX7mhHOAwUp5HRyI2O34xL6Ory563owjE3D73BimdQBEp7pSmLc2kgft5BfRTaAdOM4VacxpTIVtAdTvXUtuxS3ptaoL_UBA/s320/IMG_8943.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They take in the scenery.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghI4bIerVyEmxqk_91qGY74YJrqODLf89rxkxe9M3jOQYErAOzaVVdfsMuDqs0eCkG4ank8Fl_SqCAu6iHRj-XsgOkXpRGpTw-My04e7V3FZignXgAqdNaiZEZajc5nDlOWwTiy_tPXaE/s1600/IMG_8569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghI4bIerVyEmxqk_91qGY74YJrqODLf89rxkxe9M3jOQYErAOzaVVdfsMuDqs0eCkG4ank8Fl_SqCAu6iHRj-XsgOkXpRGpTw-My04e7V3FZignXgAqdNaiZEZajc5nDlOWwTiy_tPXaE/s320/IMG_8569.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They cool off with a nice bath.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8l5w882Bi1vjwjPvJzQW4axU7kQUFr34o_Z0osFAIMwsNW_9vVxrdmSFHHkksXy2N2mAzXH8JzxvTpDe7drRjnGLfet9PrcdTAk92iVIL2dpDQBf7Maklzcy0Xq4At0xJUw7KlOPBUA/s1600/IMG_8386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8l5w882Bi1vjwjPvJzQW4axU7kQUFr34o_Z0osFAIMwsNW_9vVxrdmSFHHkksXy2N2mAzXH8JzxvTpDe7drRjnGLfet9PrcdTAk92iVIL2dpDQBf7Maklzcy0Xq4At0xJUw7KlOPBUA/s320/IMG_8386.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They will forever rest their tired backs and broken spirits at the park.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-768890824476711912011-06-04T02:53:00.000-07:002011-06-04T02:53:00.706-07:00Cambodians<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjluOgt0g3PxhwWgrLtK7aoRCv_WkPNppzC7zEFsNfwwJRUxFskHyltUgttvM9B8YzTw5E611806GtE36hU6h6GBZB558Vcihi5PQcKIOiLersuMqj438mjPL1ed1zyPpGlv1q9yjUB0Hk/s1600/IMG_7575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjluOgt0g3PxhwWgrLtK7aoRCv_WkPNppzC7zEFsNfwwJRUxFskHyltUgttvM9B8YzTw5E611806GtE36hU6h6GBZB558Vcihi5PQcKIOiLersuMqj438mjPL1ed1zyPpGlv1q9yjUB0Hk/s320/IMG_7575.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><!--StartFragment--> <br />
<br />
<!--StartFragment--> <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I’ve met many different people from all over the world but no one comes close to the Cambodian people I’ve encountered on my travels. I truly believe their national slogan should be “Cambodia, Kingdom of Smiles” but I’m sure they’d never be taken seriously again! <o:p></o:p></div><!--EndFragment--> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiobxWeCsq6Hg8R6LyxVhm1zNuQZkio8gabZjUygGxLBqPMh6f5wFWkTDLzlqsetcXOdle_bPqiZzByCcFPxiAlR4leD717bhZcS9dRUkbwdHLdkl0BJzmHw9XtQbgK3NKnFlGeprPr5D0/s1600/IMG_7617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiobxWeCsq6Hg8R6LyxVhm1zNuQZkio8gabZjUygGxLBqPMh6f5wFWkTDLzlqsetcXOdle_bPqiZzByCcFPxiAlR4leD717bhZcS9dRUkbwdHLdkl0BJzmHw9XtQbgK3NKnFlGeprPr5D0/s320/IMG_7617.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">When you pull out your camera they are happy to be photographed, smiling easily into the lens. They say thank-you when you refuse their services and they say yes please when you order something. Now this could very well be a lost in translation thing and they’re actually mentally flipping you off and their smile actually means get the hell out of my country you cheap foreigner. Yet I’d put a great deal of money on the fact that they are not thinking that at all! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkqoxhpp4Z2592k6gR1YUUirIzheJE-Xh1qQIA1dGKH6NyD_oQ8rAErvCup0m9QvZ1FrRZIGQr1rv6JJQ_32updAtwEcJXM3xAH6EDDa74a3NmpvQXMfDUkM4fUaAGu5bORsY0EKYBmQ/s1600/IMG_8322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkqoxhpp4Z2592k6gR1YUUirIzheJE-Xh1qQIA1dGKH6NyD_oQ8rAErvCup0m9QvZ1FrRZIGQr1rv6JJQ_32updAtwEcJXM3xAH6EDDa74a3NmpvQXMfDUkM4fUaAGu5bORsY0EKYBmQ/s320/IMG_8322.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We bought a few books off this kid. He was such a charming good lil' salesman! "I'll see you when you see me!" he said before heading out of the restaurant. We saw him the next day across town and he came in to say hi!</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Over the course of our month in “Cambodia, Kingdom of Smiles” I’ve lost track of how many times one of us has happily expressed how nice the people in Cambodia are. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The people at our guesthouse were lovely, very attentive and never missed an opportunity to say hi “Hello Ally!” “Hello Morgan” (Megan is apparently a difficult name to pronounce!). The guesthouse across the road where we ate countless meals was even friendlier. We weren’t even staying there and they treated us like queens deserving of 5 star service. They didn’t care that we were clearly budget backpackers wearing the same thing for the 4<sup>th</sup> day in a row. One day we were just walking by and our favourite tiny waitress stuck her head through the wall of foliage to say hi, her smile literally stretching from ear to ear. Although now that I think about it they could have been ridiculously nice to us because we were amazing tippers… but we were amazing tippers because they were so nice to us… it’s a vicious circle but I think we’re all winners!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7Mb8IUIo7iY0KvH9AVt5ioiS4wfMX9UJT9bLvCj88zwtitIm-GJk8tkrl1pAp0AsLEz-LD35aLNiuUucak4zq1Y-TNQgkd-tH1h2qv8rLi3ShOwYQVx7BU4tYM8FEiYBgiz8PEIXUwE/s1600/IMG_8141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7Mb8IUIo7iY0KvH9AVt5ioiS4wfMX9UJT9bLvCj88zwtitIm-GJk8tkrl1pAp0AsLEz-LD35aLNiuUucak4zq1Y-TNQgkd-tH1h2qv8rLi3ShOwYQVx7BU4tYM8FEiYBgiz8PEIXUwE/s320/IMG_8141.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I think we could all learn a great deal from the Cambodian people. Like how to let bygones be bygones and live for the moment instead of letting the past live for us.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DO66RzV31iMtd0kskcxwSUwNDVOtvK45uXpxtpnSpQivhfycHGmBqv2djMzIwZ1_QfPhn4s5hNLCQSZ0W_vOQPKfa1Z8PGlouLEmq28bjuzIZGehltBEiAjeBzYvjwleHjnZ1IMRxII/s1600/IMG_8174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DO66RzV31iMtd0kskcxwSUwNDVOtvK45uXpxtpnSpQivhfycHGmBqv2djMzIwZ1_QfPhn4s5hNLCQSZ0W_vOQPKfa1Z8PGlouLEmq28bjuzIZGehltBEiAjeBzYvjwleHjnZ1IMRxII/s320/IMG_8174.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-29945364657223189422011-06-02T02:02:00.000-07:002011-06-09T22:26:03.538-07:00Cambodia's Dark Past<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxP9JXC-qqoy5JFmz-4gaCfjRv1adNdz6HbCSc8obhTaaVE4zuEWd_oVSpp0_49gPw72snajTJwNfEpShZ_t45fV3t_WosPm9a4XFwyOB1YOsX-Ob2dBeCgIAVfLoqxr4bVgbtWdLhAs/s1600/IMG_8189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxP9JXC-qqoy5JFmz-4gaCfjRv1adNdz6HbCSc8obhTaaVE4zuEWd_oVSpp0_49gPw72snajTJwNfEpShZ_t45fV3t_WosPm9a4XFwyOB1YOsX-Ob2dBeCgIAVfLoqxr4bVgbtWdLhAs/s320/IMG_8189.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">A school is a place where people can better their lives through education. School can lead to a good job with a good house and a well looked after family. So how does a place of learning turn into one of horror and torture? S-21 in Phnom Penh had been a high school. By 1975 it had turned into a place where academics, doctors, teachers, students, factory workers, monks, engineers, etc. were tortured and interrogated before being executed.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YcTgUfS9AZzy0NEkkeL8MpXg9DHKTQMYkxmUJ0e1-JTY94rfIdyJ8m2xEgd_NTKW0VdSdVjLnFKA4qj2p-ESn_1o9eVoXYn1EeggaoHpZsqbzDV98g6xNxHttI9i1NmqYc6VAZVVZvk/s1600/IMG_8212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YcTgUfS9AZzy0NEkkeL8MpXg9DHKTQMYkxmUJ0e1-JTY94rfIdyJ8m2xEgd_NTKW0VdSdVjLnFKA4qj2p-ESn_1o9eVoXYn1EeggaoHpZsqbzDV98g6xNxHttI9i1NmqYc6VAZVVZvk/s320/IMG_8212.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">It costs $2 to visit S-21 a place I would gladly pay $5-10 to see. Upon entering the first building it is obvious that this is not going to be your typical museum. There are no pristine artifacts securely placed behind bulletproof glass, only signs asking visitors to please not touch the instruments of torture. Everything has been left just how the Khmer Rouge left it. Visitors are asked to keep quite, a rule that most observe and the silence while standing in a room that would have once been filled with the screams of victims chills you to the bone. <o:p></o:p></span></div></span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqJIaD4Z9KF8eZYr6uBk1swgwVsA4uGYz-AOTS3dMmtMLS5SC4Dxmox-ybGTldRj0lhWJeU_MkX-PK9zwaE8VKml6xGKhN6HR_a419a4N9nf-mA5dfGF0mGYqC9q1GaSQgLq2IJVG6bM/s1600/IMG_8289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqJIaD4Z9KF8eZYr6uBk1swgwVsA4uGYz-AOTS3dMmtMLS5SC4Dxmox-ybGTldRj0lhWJeU_MkX-PK9zwaE8VKml6xGKhN6HR_a419a4N9nf-mA5dfGF0mGYqC9q1GaSQgLq2IJVG6bM/s320/IMG_8289.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The third floor of Building A still somewhat resembled a school with no torture devises on display and blackboards still firmly attached to the peeling walls. It even had that old school smell. So many feelings came over me all at once as I walked from room to room, confusion, sickness, bitterness, sadness, shock and hatred<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The looks on the faces of prisoners ranged from horror and shock to fear and confusion and in a few instances amusement. The amused faces are hard to take in because you know their fate. You know that while at the time they may have been thinking it couldn’t be that bad that it was in fact that bad and perhaps worse. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">All the pictures are hard to look at but perhaps the hardest to view were those of the children. You can't help but stare at them and think what could these children have possibly done to earn such a fate? How could someone torture children? Oh how they must have screamed for their mothers, their mothers who were locked away in cells far away or haphazardly buried miles away in shallow graves. How do you explain why such horrible things are happening to your children when you don’t understand them yourself?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ZDfsdkEM4cDzTVPHz_pEhfAin7l1GWSZmzEhRWFSw2JQYiG_RjYZS8kLUFlbqUiLana7RiktujKZJFeHgchOrBSc_iXAoSBxfi0GeDdt5t3VjKchMoRg1p1OWobDH5D6SyF7zLqtnU/s1600/IMG_8252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ZDfsdkEM4cDzTVPHz_pEhfAin7l1GWSZmzEhRWFSw2JQYiG_RjYZS8kLUFlbqUiLana7RiktujKZJFeHgchOrBSc_iXAoSBxfi0GeDdt5t3VjKchMoRg1p1OWobDH5D6SyF7zLqtnU/s320/IMG_8252.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">You wander through room after room of primitive yet destructive torture devises and photographs of the mutilated bodies of prisoners who never got a fair trial or explanation. It was the very worst of human behaviour in great detail on display for everyone to see. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Next comes a place with a name that leaves nothing to the imagination. The Killing Fields.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The field looks like a battleground. Every few feet there is another huge divot. It’s as though hundreds of bombs were dropped during a war but then you learn that there were no bombs, no army blitzed the area. These are the shallow graves where thousands of innocent people were disposed of like compost. Signs tell of the bodies recovered from several sites. There were 405 found from this one, 166 headless corpses from that one and over 100 naked bodies of women and children from that one over there. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQd0ZAMAzVHfgZbIEobape-8z84TA8-DvxduZy5x70O-4CGCdRRKyOUYkzSjf3z6n9-Vb9yWFKVIcQsXL0LlqL9dbIsDkOcuND1RPVjw8hNbtex-lv9IUu7lC8Tj50hZpzcBBGPR1_Bg/s1600/IMG_8221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQd0ZAMAzVHfgZbIEobape-8z84TA8-DvxduZy5x70O-4CGCdRRKyOUYkzSjf3z6n9-Vb9yWFKVIcQsXL0LlqL9dbIsDkOcuND1RPVjw8hNbtex-lv9IUu7lC8Tj50hZpzcBBGPR1_Bg/s320/IMG_8221.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">There are 2 trees on the property that served cruel purposes. One called The Killing Tree was used to beat children. One observer described how the tree was covered with blood, brain matter, skin and hair. The other tree was called The Magic Tree, which was used to blast noise from a loud speaker that would drown out the moans of those being executed. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The Killing Fields are quite small and eerily peaceful. Butterflies flutter around mass graves traveling from one delicate purple flower to another. Chickens peck around trees used to hang the outspoken and beat the children while nearby students laugh and run around their schoolyard. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzlvxvxE1qTra7OYWyD4XWuZdI3OhkZyP6-gmoGrZqlGWVdw1FfDtgmy5q_Iv7qMCBStAr7ykIOXa_C-6BBQcE4V4tUPA5kVJOFKL1Su9yS3dAOrhvg0IH2wbcSWPUP0nvom9VvSm8EI/s1600/IMG_8331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzlvxvxE1qTra7OYWyD4XWuZdI3OhkZyP6-gmoGrZqlGWVdw1FfDtgmy5q_Iv7qMCBStAr7ykIOXa_C-6BBQcE4V4tUPA5kVJOFKL1Su9yS3dAOrhvg0IH2wbcSWPUP0nvom9VvSm8EI/s320/IMG_8331.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">And as an observer you take it all in as you walk over shards of bone that have appeared over night brought out of their shallow graves by heavy rains and you look around marveling at a world at odds with the past.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
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</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-28259424959447484382011-05-25T01:27:00.000-07:002011-05-25T08:30:00.375-07:00Leave the Attitude but Pack the Humility<style>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.ucomics.com/comics/ga/1983/ga830210.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="115" src="http://images.ucomics.com/comics/ga/1983/ga830210.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">The word thank-you is a powerful one. It is a word that stretches across land borders and language barriers and yes while it sounds different in different countries it means the same thing. Showing gratitude for something is not culturally exclusive. So why then is it so difficult for a large number of travelers to show gratitude? To simply say thank-you? To just acknowledge in some way or another that they are happy the tuk tuk driver got them to where they wanted to go, the waitress served them with professionalism or the flight attendant brought them the pillow they asked for? There are even ways to show gratitude without using spoken language. A simple nod of the head or smile are powerful tools when it comes to acknowledging that someone has done something for you.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">There are far too many people that believe the world owes them and why should they show gratefulness towards those who help them out a little. Well honestly unless you've developed a cure for one of life’s many diseases including impoliteness then the world owes you nothing.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">If at home you thank the fast-food guy for your hamburger meal or the gas station attendant for pumping your gas or even the border guard for letting you pass without asking you to actually declare how much you're bringing back into the country. Then why not thank the young Cambodian who brought you the steamed fish or the Indonesian guy who drove you around for 19 hours.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">Why do people seem to think that a ticket to an exotic place gives them license to be a complete ass. The golden rule of treating others the way you'd like to be treated shouldn't only be meant for your backyard but for anywhere you find yourself. The nicer you are to others the nicer they'll be to you. It's simple! </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">Remember these things:</span></i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">* We’re all humans and deserve to be treated as such.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">* Traveling to a country with the “Underdeveloped” or “Developing” label doesn’t mean the people are your servants. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">* The happiest people you’ll ever meet are the ones without what many of us deem as necessities for a happy fulfilling life. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">* If you’re rude to someone and they continue to be kind and polite to you it’s not because it doesn’t bother them, it’s simply because they are a bigger person than you! </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">* Money does not make you a better person and therefore above everyone around you.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">To end I'll borrow a couple lines from a Dickens classic</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">"What right have you to be merry? What reason do you have to be merry? You're poor enough?"</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 115%;">"What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough!"</span></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/34w8xqFz3eU/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/34w8xqFz3eU/hqdefault.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-76446619044303069942011-05-18T05:41:00.000-07:002011-06-24T21:24:42.740-07:00Captivatingly Spectacular Siem Reap<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: auto;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPltTf3Mpt9CXmkXuNjcSpn3n3TppFum3DH4UoxFFRirYYTfdy4qAa1b3NIhnqYgLNTt5qVFx0T-j8B6bND-cWhaFECkLo0QO0s4YnsiSs_NJrZi_5AZk5OReKdSi1_lwW6fsKIbuzSi4/s1600/orange3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPltTf3Mpt9CXmkXuNjcSpn3n3TppFum3DH4UoxFFRirYYTfdy4qAa1b3NIhnqYgLNTt5qVFx0T-j8B6bND-cWhaFECkLo0QO0s4YnsiSs_NJrZi_5AZk5OReKdSi1_lwW6fsKIbuzSi4/s320/orange3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> </div>Siem Reap has captivated me. I had a feeling it would, after all “OMG, I LOVED it there!” was a common response when I told other travelers where I was going. I can’t even tell you how long this quiet city has been on my MUST SEE list. I’m a sucker for a place with a tumultuous past after all. Now I know what you’re thinking, don’t all places have tumultuous pasts? I suppose in one way or another they do but not all places have seen just how evil human beings are capable of being. Cambodia is a country of phoenix’s, spirits rising from the ashes of despair to rebuild the lives they want for themselves. Some people at home are incapable of that following a bad report card or dentist visit, geez I dwell on the news of a cavity like it’s the end of the world then after think “Oh woe is me I have to get a little needle and sit in the dentist chair for an hour boooowhooo.” Pathetic!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_heHj0NVojWrsz-Vk0-Hq8nheeif0K3FE296OGI70-Z6zH1QW8A04BZKHar37cjaWV11XS-R95kaon6O9MYr3cdg5QRCMOWbef0b9fiYGmBapQetae14dYHYIB8QNEDFavtmh9gGGnwE/s1600/IMG_7576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_heHj0NVojWrsz-Vk0-Hq8nheeif0K3FE296OGI70-Z6zH1QW8A04BZKHar37cjaWV11XS-R95kaon6O9MYr3cdg5QRCMOWbef0b9fiYGmBapQetae14dYHYIB8QNEDFavtmh9gGGnwE/s200/IMG_7576.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUzXK1wNhkVSOedf8DUYJw1bn79nDhqzavl3L7xk1TvVk99dFkxooe9tuAkcO56oCLAiGyO_Eg-3uobygXmeMINEEGbt9NitV7wUkJEKZ0G_hUXJQhyphenhyphenYhYwd6fSO4nPFt3HYm2g7sHTk/s1600/IMG_7562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUzXK1wNhkVSOedf8DUYJw1bn79nDhqzavl3L7xk1TvVk99dFkxooe9tuAkcO56oCLAiGyO_Eg-3uobygXmeMINEEGbt9NitV7wUkJEKZ0G_hUXJQhyphenhyphenYhYwd6fSO4nPFt3HYm2g7sHTk/s200/IMG_7562.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
Anyway back to the fabulous place that is Siem Reap and away from the dentist office. If I could wrap this place up and give it as a gift I would. I’d bundle it in banana leaves tied with the ancient vines that curl possessively around the crumbling stone of the Angkor temples and garnish it with the mango that narrowly missed my head as it fell from the tree at my guesthouse. But who would I give it to? Perhaps the friend that needs to be cheered up by the smiling faces of those who are happy you stopped by. Or the friend that seeks adventure by searching ancient ruins for tangerine clad monks. No, no, maybe the friend that wants to be pampered while surrounded by quiet sophistication. Although maybe I’ll just keep it for myself and use the banana leaves to steam some fish amok, let the vines continue their support of the temples and make a shake with that mango!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sskydlEBVkuQAtv_frAHrpAu53-0OLwEvU8HAxt8oOwdV90CRZ05Yoc0d3epe4a2GSfxaURMTjdG9Zbg_KempzL8rBP8ZnCJGuozpoUaXbf41ykJ82yGMl5hq-iXZzYcH2vOnxKKuGw/s1600/IMG_7617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sskydlEBVkuQAtv_frAHrpAu53-0OLwEvU8HAxt8oOwdV90CRZ05Yoc0d3epe4a2GSfxaURMTjdG9Zbg_KempzL8rBP8ZnCJGuozpoUaXbf41ykJ82yGMl5hq-iXZzYcH2vOnxKKuGw/s200/IMG_7617.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk30FhM7KLKNYX8cRglwQ8oFCQUAzVAnUI6XnwaY_PeAQ0ugbtvfgpFrCxsFL9-Qplgr-iosTKKaS0cLZbxykLlb6ysA68Fq023-aC3zRnk2JKUrtjagscSFRv7DE8YdshbN6TMb4QbTk/s1600/IMG_7489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk30FhM7KLKNYX8cRglwQ8oFCQUAzVAnUI6XnwaY_PeAQ0ugbtvfgpFrCxsFL9-Qplgr-iosTKKaS0cLZbxykLlb6ysA68Fq023-aC3zRnk2JKUrtjagscSFRv7DE8YdshbN6TMb4QbTk/s200/IMG_7489.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
The temples of Angkor Wat are beautiful, mysterious, eerie and awe-inspiring. There were times I forget that it was 2011 and was practically transported back to the 12<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">th</span> century. Honestly there was one time I looked down at my camera and thought “What the HELL is this thing?” Luckily some old Chinese woman pushed me out of her way and brought me jarringly back to reality. There are huge trees that grow effortlessly around stone structures, their branches and roots twisting and turning acrobatically through cracks and glassless windows. Children run after you asking you to buy bracelets and postcards or rather aggressively suggest you give them candy while counting to 10 in 7 languages. They’re pretty receptive to the words no and thank-you though so they get an A+ for “getting it!” And while we didn’t find monks meditating in any nooks and crannies we did get to witness a mass almsgiving ceremony with about 700 monks taking part. There was orange everywhere I looked and I LOVED IT!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3r_gqTJcq4raK91hsm930J82LoKa5tr79K9dVEBmpvgV3kSuEe51jIfVhgZGowPWa3KAMENuTassnWaHNCnC5VzejIWvpc2JYwnHM8Y9ZUh3aliZSCTlFBiusCczpqNGFwF1LQGVauk/s1600/IMG_7534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3r_gqTJcq4raK91hsm930J82LoKa5tr79K9dVEBmpvgV3kSuEe51jIfVhgZGowPWa3KAMENuTassnWaHNCnC5VzejIWvpc2JYwnHM8Y9ZUh3aliZSCTlFBiusCczpqNGFwF1LQGVauk/s200/IMG_7534.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauMvvbsslctS3znqdfiKKUstdls90YbUcG1BwUxPpig0GGQZgWOOm-b-rhYSSSa_KWYHuECE-o11jDGl3CfDvTEPZB_Gx0LgTvk3N8TOJYXU8WUPNUhfDMuVJqE5bgrVnysQhaUukYhc/s1600/IMG_7584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauMvvbsslctS3znqdfiKKUstdls90YbUcG1BwUxPpig0GGQZgWOOm-b-rhYSSSa_KWYHuECE-o11jDGl3CfDvTEPZB_Gx0LgTvk3N8TOJYXU8WUPNUhfDMuVJqE5bgrVnysQhaUukYhc/s200/IMG_7584.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">You know a place is great if you’re reminiscing about it while you’re still there! It is so great that it immediately buries itself in your heart and refuses to leave. Like a parasite or an infection… if those things made people happy when they caught them! And even though our guesthouse owner calls me Morgan and it's hotter than inside a dutch oven I’ve caught Siemreaperson and I’m loving every second of it! <o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-17404067146418899502011-05-17T01:08:00.000-07:002011-05-19T19:52:59.709-07:00Feelings of Love and Hate in Siem Reap<script language="Javascript1.2">
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<b>I find myself thinking daily of the things I both love and hate in Siem Reap as I walk down its streets. So I thought I'd share some of these feelings! </b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGIgTCp7oI0za7WzC8hyphenhyphen94XkBI2GJ5xak96_8yAEo0LEGYQgVPXBayRNZxPQnjbrZAPgtxeMYg5K8Xk0c6rk6rP46AnNylTN3BvVsyq85DSlLX8-c-y-y1NGDifG20OeEGAOyAQm5g4M/s1600/IMG_7421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGIgTCp7oI0za7WzC8hyphenhyphen94XkBI2GJ5xak96_8yAEo0LEGYQgVPXBayRNZxPQnjbrZAPgtxeMYg5K8Xk0c6rk6rP46AnNylTN3BvVsyq85DSlLX8-c-y-y1NGDifG20OeEGAOyAQm5g4M/s320/IMG_7421.JPG" width="320" /></a>I love the way the tuk tuk drivers in Siem Reap say you’re welcome when you tell them no thank-you after they ask if you need a ride.<o:p></o:p>
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I love how people smile just because you waved at them. <o:p></o:p>
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<o:p> </o:p>I hate seeing young kids pulling carts, picking up garbage or begging for money. It’s heartbreaking to think these kids will never get to experience the magic of childhood because they’ve been forced into adulthood too early.
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I relish in being called beautiful, knowing full well that it’s due to my wretchedly pale skin and not because of anything else. <o:p></o:p>
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I truly enjoy being in a place that feels exotic yet has most of the comforts of home. This is not because I NEED said comforts but it’s nice to have them around if I find myself wanting them and let’s be honest there are definitely times when you’re travelling where you think, “If I have to put one more grain of rice, satay skewer or strange root past my lips I’m going to freakin’ lose it!”<o:p></o:p>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroha6NMpLPNJS_gNhiTzNWfRXvHJAoAknLOev8AZRYL6CixJM87ke9U0_YpSunPNVMkHdAsbzUz8kQqjCaNkxz6J2jp4y6AmCE2QZWggM_3fOqBUs2vw4OaxmQFUaAnukVrXcd47dJmg/s1600/IMG_7042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroha6NMpLPNJS_gNhiTzNWfRXvHJAoAknLOev8AZRYL6CixJM87ke9U0_YpSunPNVMkHdAsbzUz8kQqjCaNkxz6J2jp4y6AmCE2QZWggM_3fOqBUs2vw4OaxmQFUaAnukVrXcd47dJmg/s320/IMG_7042.jpg" width="213" /></a><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
I love watching street kids taking a break from their jobs by flinging themselves off the twisted branches of trees, into the Siem Reap River.
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I hate saying no to someone who has been the victim of a landmine. However if I didn’t then I’d find myself peddling books and paintings on the streets annoying people.<o:p></o:p>
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I love how little kids will run up to you and hold onto your pant leg as they look up into your face with amazement painted across their faces. <o:p></o:p>
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I detest automatically feeling sorry for a landmine victim. They lost a limb not their dignity and I feel like that “awe poor you” feeling I get somehow strips them of their dignity whether they realize it or not.<o:p></o:p>
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I love seeing buildings that were constructed thousands of years ago and revered to this day by the decedents of those who dreamed them up.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p1q35DdM9ta80M3krIudDak5Bs4k3p3hGnPq2rBHucJPTiPNUB_pl4Npckr2LKIma2DgYcZ0sCQGk1b9mPeRlj4SBaKxzubEhtYVRcPVpmzEXLVZGWoOop2Z69F5_KeofxXr1uBbww4/s1600/IMG_7502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p1q35DdM9ta80M3krIudDak5Bs4k3p3hGnPq2rBHucJPTiPNUB_pl4Npckr2LKIma2DgYcZ0sCQGk1b9mPeRlj4SBaKxzubEhtYVRcPVpmzEXLVZGWoOop2Z69F5_KeofxXr1uBbww4/s320/IMG_7502.JPG" width="320" /></a>Most of all I love to see how the strength of the human spirit can overcome the most atrocious acts of pure evil. To arrive in Cambodia and know full well what happened here not so long ago and not see broken souls haphazardly drifting from place to place is inspiring. It would be so easy to forgive people for being cold, untrusting or jaded, after all we in the west would see it as human nature. The Cambodian’s have taught me that while the tragedies of the past play a role in our present lives they do not control us. If we allowed such events to dictate our daily lives we’d all be like looming black clouds on the horizon, ready to explode with uncontrollable fury at the hint of sadness. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
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</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-61719946009281550572011-05-16T23:41:00.000-07:002011-05-16T23:41:56.246-07:00Angkor Wat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm adding to the overflow of pictures from Angkor Wat! Sadly the front of Angkor Wat is undergoing a facelift so my dream pictures did not get taken. Thankfully the temples are impressive enough to still photograph nicely despite the ugly scaffolding and green tarps!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXD2s8Yz8jMzf-2hyJ2LWRUnZLpIiqZQeNCkIYTvw32MXrKdZXUNxgnZFKFokdXRCsu5IF4L1wovd92TV2JXhvYjSlQ4z0eVS6rlBhWzgyKCKq-YbRSwopRLv6EhGmKUlkJSU03GsqloQ/s1600/IMG_7317_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXD2s8Yz8jMzf-2hyJ2LWRUnZLpIiqZQeNCkIYTvw32MXrKdZXUNxgnZFKFokdXRCsu5IF4L1wovd92TV2JXhvYjSlQ4z0eVS6rlBhWzgyKCKq-YbRSwopRLv6EhGmKUlkJSU03GsqloQ/s320/IMG_7317_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunrise at Angkor Wat</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHXNKBR6QT0Z5mDys8y0noT73dMvUnBBL8vt4QiHNiS2azIIuZxH0_LuA2h49Gwg9lX-8aOZkEbcsgmGu00K_7-lxDKxIJ-s0HJRieOZaRVaM0HzoVaFguTDZ4nicKtf9bQKe_GtFczE/s1600/IMG_7410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHXNKBR6QT0Z5mDys8y0noT73dMvUnBBL8vt4QiHNiS2azIIuZxH0_LuA2h49Gwg9lX-8aOZkEbcsgmGu00K_7-lxDKxIJ-s0HJRieOZaRVaM0HzoVaFguTDZ4nicKtf9bQKe_GtFczE/s320/IMG_7410.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-17441939693619460542011-05-16T00:21:00.000-07:002011-05-19T01:24:36.043-07:00Siem Reap<script language="Javascript1.2">
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I don't have much to write about as of yet but I figured I'd share some photographs of our Siem Reap experience so far.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Delicious sandwiches at The Singing Tree Cafe</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRVpfcc0M_rFKlz3AiVGZcF0fcOIX3DfFjQNC41w5uhvyD8_9gi9jLZGn5HhoNDLm0Amhsbr00sfDkWsdIyQwXW8sVpOv24SyKOX7hglLJ3rWkrfjrD2SeeBdFLbmOAoyAg-WO6DIi-4/s1600/IMG_7155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRVpfcc0M_rFKlz3AiVGZcF0fcOIX3DfFjQNC41w5uhvyD8_9gi9jLZGn5HhoNDLm0Amhsbr00sfDkWsdIyQwXW8sVpOv24SyKOX7hglLJ3rWkrfjrD2SeeBdFLbmOAoyAg-WO6DIi-4/s320/IMG_7155.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Ruins of Angkor</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Pint sized grounds keeper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The beauty of nature wrapping itself around the creation of man.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Real life for the other half of Siem Reaps citizens.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Siem Reap cyclist</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Monkey on a spit... anyone hungry?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The kids who seem to be in charge of recycling pick up in the city having some down time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Brother and sister riding around the streets of Siem Reap</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our favourite mode of transportation! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cambodian orphan</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-52754386548603054042011-05-07T20:40:00.000-07:002011-05-07T20:42:58.321-07:00why, Why, WHY... Why Must You Yell?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Screaming children, screaming mothers, screaming fathers… all screaming at each other. If there is anything I have learned in my short time travelling in Laos and Cambodia it is that voice volume is not an issue. Outdoor voices are widely accepted as the norm for indoor spaces. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">It’s all well and good though, who am I to say that while standing next to someone you should speak to them in 30 centimetre voices. After all that was just one of many rules back in elementary school and I’ve since broken all of those including DON’T RUN IN THE HALL, muahahaha!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">It doesn’t matter if you’re about to enjoy a nice meal with a friend, if someone inside the restaurant needs something from their house a mile down the road they’re going to yell for it. It’s amazing too, that such big noises come out of such small people. I mean they reach the kind of volume that you would expect from Pavarotti or Santa Claus. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8hyphenhyphenDGgpvv00PHUytiUB8-2LbbeUz0lrxdRYz0zp3qlJNUPn9Q7DyvMGOdY919zINfTe2NQV9PLcq5AZAbjnA7brRfDa0MCp1HThBEneeLihTnth9XGdbPJdo6mzn0QO4rVLsZ2LtPIo/s1600/child.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8hyphenhyphenDGgpvv00PHUytiUB8-2LbbeUz0lrxdRYz0zp3qlJNUPn9Q7DyvMGOdY919zINfTe2NQV9PLcq5AZAbjnA7brRfDa0MCp1HThBEneeLihTnth9XGdbPJdo6mzn0QO4rVLsZ2LtPIo/s320/child.jpg" width="320" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">In Cambodia so far I haven’t been awoken by the shrill half-a-doodle-do of a rooster that is missing ¼ of its feathers. No, I’ve been brought out of sleep by a small child screaming, “AH! AH!” I have no idea why so I can only assume that he’s either walking down the hall and screaming with joy every time he comes across a line in the tile floor. Or he’s trying to run away from his shadow that won’t stop following him. Either way he’s incredibly loud! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><o:p></o:p>They are the kind of yells and screams that make your teeth ache and ears bleed. If someone were to yell this way at home others would say things like “What the hell are you doing, just text them!” “If you do that again I’m going to get some duck tape and securely fasten your lips together!” “I’m suing you for disturbing my peace!” or “Someone put that kid on a reality show!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-4512211566194801592011-05-05T22:31:00.000-07:002011-05-05T22:31:02.711-07:00Cambodia, An Introduction to Chaos<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYyDNIoK2IrAcsvi1SKif_Fx7kOo1Y9_YHRBIfUtGIVJp1PGTNQLHG7uSiE0MHDBoEReV9eEEzW9J5cvrtj6FdxMPoIu29DYou3LzapYP9o-ERViD7cdUQjDrtNZkHmecACt7a9PrPMI/s1600/IMG_0763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYyDNIoK2IrAcsvi1SKif_Fx7kOo1Y9_YHRBIfUtGIVJp1PGTNQLHG7uSiE0MHDBoEReV9eEEzW9J5cvrtj6FdxMPoIu29DYou3LzapYP9o-ERViD7cdUQjDrtNZkHmecACt7a9PrPMI/s320/IMG_0763.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out those subtitles! (And anyone who stood, was a terrible fate.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyone who travels owes it to themselves to pick up a book and/or google the place they are about to insert themselves into. By researching you can better equip yourself for madness if it should arise.<br />
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Ally and I had been fairly lucky throughout Laos, avoiding madness and headaches most of the way through the country's winding roads and sleepy towns. We avoided madness through the first 3/4 of our journey to Siem Reap as well and I was beginning to think that we were a couple of the lucky ones! BIG mistake! Here's the story...<br />
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We purchased a bus ticket while on Don Det and early on Wednesday morning after a sudden early morning mystery illness, we took a boat with several other travellers to the mainland where we waited for a bit for our big bus to arrive. The bus was nice. We scored 2 of the best seats and had a perfect view of the flatscreen T.V that brought us such gems as The Mummy 3, Yip Man 2 (great film!), Evan Almighty and Shaolin (which wins the award for worst English subtitles of all time!). After several hours on the bus we arrived at a rest stop and were told to get our bags off the bus because we'd be taking other transportation to Siem Reap. Someone told us 30minutes which gave us time to grab some dinner before the final leg of our journey. Eventually a minibus showed up and 17 travellers and 17 large rucksacks were shoved into a space that really should only be used for about 10 travellers and 10 medium sized rucksacks. The rest of us sat there watching as the passengers quickly became better acquainted with one another with feelings of dread beginning to boil in the pit of our stomachs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5jij_tMIG6UKJ25E8p61_cQ7A9LXiUyqBo-k8wc2LLuEiAjuTKJDAs04iMU3nCLgxIGS_Onby93yFOBuFqAfc_MnkPBlGRzYnOdZtxkcnFjRMvq3qcfValo1ewDPLsaoy7Zo4Df7KKc/s1600/IMG_0791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5jij_tMIG6UKJ25E8p61_cQ7A9LXiUyqBo-k8wc2LLuEiAjuTKJDAs04iMU3nCLgxIGS_Onby93yFOBuFqAfc_MnkPBlGRzYnOdZtxkcnFjRMvq3qcfValo1ewDPLsaoy7Zo4Df7KKc/s320/IMG_0791.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the rooftop bar of Siem Reap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>(Quick side story, one of the girls did not check to see if her bag had come of the bus and was surprised to see that it was not among the pile of bags and instead on the bus bound for Phnom Pehn... lesson ALWAYS check to see where your bag is!)<br />
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We were told to hang on for 50 more minutes and our transportation would arrive. 1.5 hours later it did and things were looking AMAZING. It was the kind of bus one expects to board when told the bus is VIP. Wide plush seats with fleece blankets and air conditioning that put all other air conditioning to shame.<br />
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What we forgot to do was suppress our excitement because when things seem too good to be true in this part of the world they often are! We weren't on the bus for 5 minutes before a man told 8 of us to get off. He told us that the driver was still eating and there wasn't enough seats so he had to wait for the driver so they could figure it out. None of us were very impressed with this situation. Not enough seats? Last bus to Siem Reap? WTF! So we did what any other defiant Westerner would do, we mentally flipped the guy off and got back on the bus. We'd show these people we weren't there to be taken advantage of. Well soon after we'd taken our seats again the guy got on and began moving people around. He ushered us to the back where an American who had been on the bus for a couple hours already began telling us to relax and not give the people trouble because they were "simple people". He then told us we were acting too much like tourists. Later on Ally would tell him off quite nicely. He was the kind of American that gives the rest a horrible name and it's sad because I've met many intelligent yanks on these travels.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div>(For a full Ally retelling of the events visit her blog @ http://blogginawkward.blogspot.com/)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5u1AKnSWu5mvwC4FYSOUtziH4BEz_mTk_btQz95EbHF2VmqxqslLiPsH3F3V6OA0EZOa1aUve0noDWhU33Th1wjPa3MA98AmzfZ3htyAKKt7sBbnS8yTcucLLd2RGbOB64eHovmgwSw4/s1600/IMG_0795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5u1AKnSWu5mvwC4FYSOUtziH4BEz_mTk_btQz95EbHF2VmqxqslLiPsH3F3V6OA0EZOa1aUve0noDWhU33Th1wjPa3MA98AmzfZ3htyAKKt7sBbnS8yTcucLLd2RGbOB64eHovmgwSw4/s320/IMG_0795.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luxury slightly out of our price range!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyway it soon became apparent that there were not enough seats on the bus and despite paying twice as much as the people already on the bus I was told to go to the front where the guy told me to sit on the floor right behind the window. So I squeezed myself into a 3 foot space and got "comfortable" for the remainder of the trip. By the time we arrived, I had broken down and decided I was going home. My back was spasming, I couldn't feel my feet because the air con was actually too cold, I had hit my head off of several surfaces while trying to get comfortable and was feeling a bit queasy from the drive. In the end I realized that most of my aggravation had stemmed from the douchebag yank who had been the icing on my bitter wits-end-cake. Clearly I didn't go home that would be ridiculous and so far Siem Reap has made up for the bus journey!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJismmPXwrXihO8Y6tFhe0K8lE1ApzrpOsbjUqYRbacxLohYd4p3_jFafXbGc5uN8cMCAaJfhEO8OO6IgVdRlCz0ONlT1yRNRIIsgP0mX9nVcbhx5lhOii-jpZ-Zd61XktPZGbIZ9cAJ4/s1600/IMG_0776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJismmPXwrXihO8Y6tFhe0K8lE1ApzrpOsbjUqYRbacxLohYd4p3_jFafXbGc5uN8cMCAaJfhEO8OO6IgVdRlCz0ONlT1yRNRIIsgP0mX9nVcbhx5lhOii-jpZ-Zd61XktPZGbIZ9cAJ4/s320/IMG_0776.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ally and Charlotte lounging by the pool.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>On our first night we met up with Charlotte from Don Det and had a delicious meal on Pub Street. She is the kind of person that feels like an old friend almost immediately and it was sad to say goodbye. But before we did we checked the rooftop bar of some fancy hotel and drank $3 fruit shakes while we lounged by the rooftop pool... feeling completely out of place in our oh so fancy backpacker duds! Again check out Charlotte's blog if you haven't! http://globe-jotters.blogspot.com/<br />
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Now we have a couple weeks to really get to know Siem Reap and explore Angkor Wat... exciting stuff!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-49199535174822426592011-05-02T23:31:00.000-07:002011-05-02T23:31:13.296-07:00Chau Laos!<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwlMF64j8qhky4A32kZZkcHyjisWQ_pdtlCc98upKVQEZmWyDoY7L3ihu7rre4lKsLxOQmed0J12GM9V0Ph05g2E5n49z2yoIC1qnmKIroBcNGYIjabM7ro0iRyN37xqeCAFNXZIAY0U/s1600/IMG_0736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwlMF64j8qhky4A32kZZkcHyjisWQ_pdtlCc98upKVQEZmWyDoY7L3ihu7rre4lKsLxOQmed0J12GM9V0Ph05g2E5n49z2yoIC1qnmKIroBcNGYIjabM7ro0iRyN37xqeCAFNXZIAY0U/s320/IMG_0736.JPG" width="320" /></a>As I sat thinking about how badly I wanted to jump into the Mekong, to allow my feet to dangle where unknown things lurked, a chicken below my bungalow clucked “bokbokbokBOK!” as if taunting me. Under my breath so no one could hear me chastising poultry I said, “I’m not a chicken… you’re a chicken.” And made up my mind, my mind that was full of nothing and everything all at the same time, that I would indeed grace the Mekong with my presence, unknown things be damned!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">So the day finally came when Ally and I said, it’s time. We rented a tube for 10,000kip each and met up with our new Aussie friends, Sarah and Chris. We waded into the warm water and awkwardly fell onto our black, sun soaked tubes. At first it seemed like we’d have to do all the work to get down the river but sooner than later the current caught us and away we went. As we floated past our bungalow we called out to our porch dog Grizz to see if he’d react. Well he didn’t just react he followed us down most of the river, crying the entire way! Don’t get attached to animals on your travels the experts say but what about when they get attached to you? <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Tubing was more enjoyable than I thought it would be. Before when people would talk about getting into a tube and floating lazily down the river I would sit there thinking but why do that when swimming is so much fun! But now I get it. I get the appeal of lying back chatting to friends and allowing the sun to molest my skin that I didn’t apply enough sunscreen to! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK5QHsJjpneSQz5N3pPaGI-vkR6xRvs94g8ACX694L7uJTUgIb-OudUZi3QEuTL7FsHjibYD8cjK5CU4PjTV1VV3ZlXrZgOgo9UF8U0v8exp_8pIc0QgmXO7cqQzihR1cCy2d5430Y9g/s1600/IMG_0673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnK5QHsJjpneSQz5N3pPaGI-vkR6xRvs94g8ACX694L7uJTUgIb-OudUZi3QEuTL7FsHjibYD8cjK5CU4PjTV1VV3ZlXrZgOgo9UF8U0v8exp_8pIc0QgmXO7cqQzihR1cCy2d5430Y9g/s320/IMG_0673.JPG" width="320" /></a>After floating for about an hour we all awkwardly got out of our tubes and headed into a restaurant for some grub before grabbing our tubes and walking back to town. We figured a tuk tuk would come along and we’d be back by 5, (when the tubes were due back) with plenty of time to spare. Yet no tuk tuk would have us, they all drove past going the opposite way showering us in dirt road debris. 2.5k isn’t that far but when you’re thirsty, carrying sun satellites and your skin is beginning to audibly crackle it seems like the end will never come! I am pleased to say that we made it back and after a few days the front of my legs is almost matching the back of my legs again! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYUFkcuIVW9xz5ArYREj-H3NC1RbtI-oz34XayPiA6oY_Lw1gkZogk_hR52FhJfqbwr6XjT4LD_CM1RBBUq76u5STXwfK71zCdy3dtPzJRZBIlSxmc5YCIi9l24OHLq1IIjsRZjjZF7o/s1600/IMG_0727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYUFkcuIVW9xz5ArYREj-H3NC1RbtI-oz34XayPiA6oY_Lw1gkZogk_hR52FhJfqbwr6XjT4LD_CM1RBBUq76u5STXwfK71zCdy3dtPzJRZBIlSxmc5YCIi9l24OHLq1IIjsRZjjZF7o/s320/IMG_0727.jpg" width="179" /></a>Days pass rather slowly in Don Det and while at first relaxation mode is enjoyable cabin fever mode soon takes over and the thought of doing just about anything is more appealing than the thought of another hour of nothing! We were lucky to discover a rather pricey yet very nice bungalow/restaurant with a beautiful view, debit machine and wifi and made it our do nothing but do nothing with wifi “retreat”. We met an English girl named Charlotte and hit it off with her quickly. She’s a writer and was excited to discover other writers… not that I’m much of a writer but I do enjoy it! Anyway check out her blog <a href="http://globe-jotters.blogspot.com/">http://globe-jotters.blogspot.com/</a>. So days of sitting on our deck and doing nothing turned into sitting at Little Eden, eating expensive yet delicious meals, catching up with news and entertainment from home, making a new friend and playing several rounds of the traveller favourite Shithead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The remaining days in Don Det which seemed to never end, were spent writing, reading, swimming (yep I said screw it I’m way too hot I’ll risk being eaten by some mysterious river monster if it means I get to cool down!), meeting new people, researching our Cambodian adventure and surviving the most extreme thunderstorm I’ve ever witnessed. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Laos is a beautiful, mysterious country full of lovely, joyous people and it should not be missed. If you do head over make sure you pack, anti-nausea medication, swimwear, a waterproof camera, books and an open mind. Follow those simple suggestions and your Laos adventure will be brilliant just as mine was<o:p></o:p></div><!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-82501784622276693592011-05-02T21:02:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:02:38.938-07:00Crash and Bang<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">We witnessed the biggest thunderstorm of our lives one early morning. It was the kind of thunderstorm that wakes you up, doesn’t let you go back to bed and makes you hold your breath at the hint of every new rumbling while you wait for the inevitable crash of thunder as lightening splits the sky in half. In other words the greatest thunderstorm ever! Naturally waking up early puts you into morning pee mode and well there was no way we were venturing out into the downpour of water and electricity so we did what any country girls would do! And I’ll leave it at that, use your imaginations if you must! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl17i3IPPAcGPGDgAfAPCycdDGSyXV0uABSONmdrF1pSvkxqJBVnswrJqinyLazJpwz3C3x74i-NRbHmRyUd2R-adqqePS3g25jIA-Wy0rwEPdLH0jFaDpnZKKzQffFndxIcrVoHacm8/s1600/IMG_0743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOl17i3IPPAcGPGDgAfAPCycdDGSyXV0uABSONmdrF1pSvkxqJBVnswrJqinyLazJpwz3C3x74i-NRbHmRyUd2R-adqqePS3g25jIA-Wy0rwEPdLH0jFaDpnZKKzQffFndxIcrVoHacm8/s320/IMG_0743.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Funnily enough I was having one of those dreams where you include what’s actually going on in the nocturnal. I was dreaming that I was on a 2 level houseboat and was waiting for my mom to get home. I’m not sure where my dad was but probably off doing something awesome. So there I was floating in my house when suddenly a Korean father and his 2 kids showed up. I don’t know why they were there and I forgot to ask them so you’ll have to use your imagination for that as well. Anyway it started to storm really badly and there we were on this 2 level houseboat that was rocking and rolling and then my mom got home. She arrived as if nothing was even happening even though the clouds had turned from normal storm clouds into END OF THE WORLD CLOUDS! All she did was get upset with me for putting Baileys into the chili. “Why’d you put Bailey’s into the chili? Is it because there isn’t any sour cream?” As anyone can tell you Bailey’s is my number 1 sour cream substitute. Then Ally opened the door to let Grizz in because he was whining and we ventured out onto the porch to watch nature’s drama unfold and relieve ou</span><!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-72541176085226704222011-04-28T00:45:00.000-07:002011-04-28T08:30:06.023-07:00They've Got that Something!<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92Iylxb6MummBu1DRCao6zY5Tvsdo9gudcuiHb9b1ZOn7lUJHJ4Yvya-OERWHu4uk72awJVJB5N_XJ9rH_1NFDPx0HQ2epBCGdFDR1wPcTeLVHDLLD0vlQQvQgWIPt-jxfvEifrfXlSc/s1600/IMG_0328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92Iylxb6MummBu1DRCao6zY5Tvsdo9gudcuiHb9b1ZOn7lUJHJ4Yvya-OERWHu4uk72awJVJB5N_XJ9rH_1NFDPx0HQ2epBCGdFDR1wPcTeLVHDLLD0vlQQvQgWIPt-jxfvEifrfXlSc/s320/IMG_0328.JPG" width="320" /></a>There is something about the Laos people that make them incredibly cool. I don’t mean cool in the same way we do in the west or in a Fonzie sort of way, but I mean cool in a “Yeah that dog just peed on my leg so what, dogs need to pee!” kind of way. I’m not saying every single Laotian is cool. That would be like saying all American’s are loud and all Canadians are polite. There are several mute American’s and I’ve flipped several people off on the highway in Canada. I’m just saying that collectively they seem like a pretty cool bunch. This coolness also seems to be transferred to the animals. Seemingly feral cats climb into your lap the second you sit down and happily sleep away while you drink your tea. Dogs that in another part of the world may make you think twice about putting your hand down to give them a pat nudge you and run off ahead as if to lead you to a secret place or a drowning child ala Lassie. Even the chickens have a coolness to them that makes you feel kind of bad about that chicken burger you had for dinner last night but then you remember how delicious it was and think “Yeah these chickens are cool but so what, I need to eat!” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvemJqgHlIRz-r1V5O1g54EdNgQTvjr7kWLUDTjd7kMxjptotvzot2Ot7uDxw8K8aTlIkOWomaVIl_xlHCGiZm0mduIctw4A1vXrhgPMR04W4i44q4UTZ4cZLo0bORGDkUDXzXtLKFik/s1600/IMG_0269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvemJqgHlIRz-r1V5O1g54EdNgQTvjr7kWLUDTjd7kMxjptotvzot2Ot7uDxw8K8aTlIkOWomaVIl_xlHCGiZm0mduIctw4A1vXrhgPMR04W4i44q4UTZ4cZLo0bORGDkUDXzXtLKFik/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" width="320" /></a>I’d like to take a bit of this coolness back home with me but I think my neurotic tendencies are too, as Yoda would say “Strong with this one.” Also I truly believe that the Laos cool could not survive the literal cold of a Canadian winter! No one would be able to say, “Yeah it’s April, it has been snowing for 6 months straight and it’s -20, so what it likes to snow here!” No, no, no we all turn into depressed miserable SOB’s, especially when all the summer clothes have come out as if the stores are purposely taunting you with things you COULD be wearing but wisely should not be wearing.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Anyway what was I talking about… oh yes Laos people! So in conclusion they are cool, their animals are cool and after it rains it’s kind of cool! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">(Mom and Dad I have actually never flipped off another motorist… I’m never fast enough!)<o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-15275371981474542912011-04-22T05:31:00.000-07:002011-04-29T04:48:38.850-07:00Nothingness on Don Det<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">If there is anything I have learned on this journey it is this, roosters are huge assholes, and I have way more than I need to be happy and despite what I have told myself for years, I just may be one of the “lucky ones”.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS0Ms0Lki3xjXnuyrKfwwtLryWZRSXTVDNSr6MfMkLStjJWSkUKfead3OXIrjOl9VfZPC-FMLB5rycOfMyCUf-1Czo78jhamRAUrcaFQdJtIGXcm8u2Cp_njbKNL8sBWiXKj8NFqw9gs/s1600/IMG_0651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS0Ms0Lki3xjXnuyrKfwwtLryWZRSXTVDNSr6MfMkLStjJWSkUKfead3OXIrjOl9VfZPC-FMLB5rycOfMyCUf-1Czo78jhamRAUrcaFQdJtIGXcm8u2Cp_njbKNL8sBWiXKj8NFqw9gs/s320/IMG_0651.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our time in Laos is rapidly coming to an end. Our last destination is the 4000 Islands in the south. But before we could get there we had to get from Ba Nah Hin to some kind of bus station in some place we’d never heard of! Our friendly guesthouse matriarch told us that a tuk tuk would arrive at 9:30 to take us to the bus. Low and behold at 7:45 the next morning she was tapping on our window telling us the tuk tuk was actually arriving at 8:30. A fact that she was afraid to inform the Spanish couple of and so she begged me to do it for her. I’m happy they were so nice because not everyone would be happy to hear they only had 15 minutes to pack, dress and get out of their room. We jumped awkwardly into our packed transportation and headed towards some unknown location. In the end we easily survived our 3-hour tuk tuk ride with a large group of lovely small town Laotians, who marveled at our height and the whiteness of our skin while a small boy covered himself in the Canada stickers I had given him as a consolation for having to sit beside the scary falang (foreigner).<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">*side note*(You’ll be sitting in a tuk tuk with locals who stare and at times rub your “white” skin in amazement while trying to express that their skin is different, sometimes I get the feeling that they are trying to rub the paleness off me and onto them. Go right ahead my friend you’re more than welcome to take the colouring of a corpse that I have been “blessed” with. You’ll probably be happy to learn that this skin does not brown like yours it remains the perfect camouflage for a blizzard! I’ll leave out the part about having to wear spf 75 in order to keep from turning into one big scorch mark because that’s what any good sales pitch would leave out!)<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">So after our tuk tuk ride we arrived at the bus station in Thakeat and purchased our tickets to Pakse, the jewel of Laos. No no I’m totally kidding, Pakse is merely a layover kind of city like Minneapolis or Baltimore before heading somewhere better. For the record I have nothing against Baltimore, I hear the crab is quite delicious there and I love crab. Minneapolis… well there isn’t enough space on the whole of the internet for me to go into why I included it… but I’m sure it’s not as bad as its airport!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsJmtlWfUTtdMoevqsD2bzEdrHmK7f4ENWOT6WMwM32Pk-P1GkcWIouxNs_-NuDSzOYLhcHM0wrfHr_cyZJTg71fSEWS68maBMUCti7TIjqFn7T9VVOmve5K-XMg08jvd2dOdfxfyw3g/s1600/girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsJmtlWfUTtdMoevqsD2bzEdrHmK7f4ENWOT6WMwM32Pk-P1GkcWIouxNs_-NuDSzOYLhcHM0wrfHr_cyZJTg71fSEWS68maBMUCti7TIjqFn7T9VVOmve5K-XMg08jvd2dOdfxfyw3g/s320/girl.jpg" width="179" /></a>Our bus to Pakse cost us a whopping $6.50 (7.5hrs) and it offered luke warm air con, seats that went all the way back by just sneezing at them and an interior that had obviously been the training ground for drug dogs before it was shipped from Korea. Still we weren’t complaining we got 2 seats each, which makes everything tolerable! Oh and to boot a mix CD of Thai, Khmer and Korean pop songs! It is times like these where you look down at your iPod and think, thank-you for being invented!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I don’t have much to say about Pakse… there are some large hotels, several ATM’s, some restaurants and guesthouses… people live there, drive there, work there and probably eat there too. We arrived late and left early and stuck to the same route both ways. At 8am a van arrived to take us down to the 4000 Islands. It was a pretty comfortable ride. There was great air con and I was able to sit back, listen to some music and read Tina Fey’s book Bossypants (Perhaps the funniest book I’ve ever read, if you read it and don’t laugh out loud at least 50 times you clearly have the sense of humour of a deflated inner tube!) So there I was enjoying my time, happily being entertained audibly and literarily when I looked up just in time to see a dog crossing the street and then BAM…BUMPH… BUMPH and GASP/AAAHHH. All I could do was stare ahead with my hand clasped over my mouth; my body replaying the feeling of the wheel beneath me as it hopefully quickly ended a life. Every passenger sat slightly traumatized as the driver continued forward at the same pace before pulling over to fix the front bumper that was now rubbing against the right wheel. Still I sat in a bit of shock, thinking “OMG our driver is clearly a psychopath, get out of the van, get out now.” A little while later we came across some cows lazily crossing the street and what did our driver do… well he honked. In the half an hour between the man had committed 2<sup>nd</sup> degree dog slaughter and the cow crossing the genius powering our 2 ton vehicle had managed to find the horn. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">When we arrived at the “port” we got our “ferry” ticket and headed down to a beach that resembled a landfill and climbed into a teetering boat that would take us across the Mekong to Don Det. When our boat nudged its way onto shore we hopped out to collect our bags and I promptly sliced my hand open on the edge of the boats rusty aluminum roof. Bravo me! If you’re looking for something pointy, sharp and crawling with disease I’m the girl to find it for you! No worries though I sprang into action with some antiseptic wipes, iodine stuff and a band aid and I’m happy to report that each side of the cut agreed to a reconciliation and has since called off the separation! Who needs a doctor when you’ve got yourself a mom knows best first aid kit! (<b>I do not condone performing a major procedure on your self with or without a mom knows best first aid kit)(The kit I was using was not in fact called Mom Knows Best so please don’t get upset if you can’t find it at your local Walmart or Canadian Tire.)<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">We managed to find ourselves a pretty sweet bungalow perched on the river with a nice deck equipped with hammocks and a cozy cat and dog infested café. One of the cats chilled out with us for our entire first visit and after removing several fleas (yeah I’m one of those people) from his body I named him Marty McFlea. So Ally, Marty McFlea and I sat and enjoyed each other’s company while lunching on delicious tuna and egg salad sandwiches. We threw our crumbs into the Mekong and watched as fish of all sizes… ok not all sizes like 3 sizes, tiny, small and small-medium, fought over them. Just a small side note, the fish do not like tomatoes or lettuce but seem somewhat fascinated by onions. And also monkeys may in fact prefer coconuts to bananas. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnh_yt0CyC2cLGmoGrgE4YfamH2JD1-VPDUcfDerJzi_qBRO3cnUmYAjq-pBIBZ9foAfoShMbt6r6m1MtkGcsb1DMBe_PCDNKBvzo3PDwi4TcCoDQVVubfkqcy6Bb0w9CvnrVPIdLxkM/s1600/IMG_0666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnh_yt0CyC2cLGmoGrgE4YfamH2JD1-VPDUcfDerJzi_qBRO3cnUmYAjq-pBIBZ9foAfoShMbt6r6m1MtkGcsb1DMBe_PCDNKBvzo3PDwi4TcCoDQVVubfkqcy6Bb0w9CvnrVPIdLxkM/s320/IMG_0666.jpg" width="179" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The bungalow itself cost us 30,000, 15,000k each that’s like… $1.78! It has a mosquito net, a fan and a great view. To say this place is luxurious would be stretching the truth well past its breaking point but describing it as rustic and the embodiment of easy living would be adequate. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Don Det, despite its “party island” description makes the rest of Laos look a bit hectic! It is the Laos equivalent of Ontario cottage country… before the rich got wind that cottaging was a good time and turned it into one big country club! During the dry season there is a sharp contrast between the lush green banks of Don Det that gently slope into the Mekong and the islands parched brown interior. It presents itself as a good place to relax but there is something scary about a place with not a lot to do! I have really begun to notice more of my mother in me especially when it comes to downtime. I’ve always been really good at doing nothing when there is a lot to do but when there isn’t much to do I don’t know how to do nothing! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">We have ample time to explore Don Det and some of the surrounding islands and we are desperately hoping to see the elusive and critically endangered Irrawaddy Dolphin. For now it’s island walking, island sleeping, island biking, island writing, island reading and sunning ourselves on a tube as we participate in island gazing while we float lazily down the mighty Mekong! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
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</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-36913119986550453332011-04-18T02:54:00.000-07:002011-04-19T07:27:46.086-07:00THE CAVE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL5KD8uflfW82HjwcYgQtcS7e38Xh9yk8PTB5cVG6kWWCfadU6r-jW03HWieMZrwxoQHJGNaG5UXIj2xVmP3Tk6SRVa2vydsNpKSLK96eIKOZk8bX_wnShIR1BnDdPBr0vJfZmdRCLHKU/s1600/IMG_0384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL5KD8uflfW82HjwcYgQtcS7e38Xh9yk8PTB5cVG6kWWCfadU6r-jW03HWieMZrwxoQHJGNaG5UXIj2xVmP3Tk6SRVa2vydsNpKSLK96eIKOZk8bX_wnShIR1BnDdPBr0vJfZmdRCLHKU/s320/IMG_0384.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Ba Nah Hin, a good place to stay when wanting to head out to THE CAVE is… well you know those pictures you see of very northern communities where it looks like helicopters came and just sort of dropped a settlement in a permafrost laden dirt patch. That is what Ba Nah Hin looks a bit like minus the permafrost and plus some very red arid dirt. It’s a quiet little place littered with guesthouses that you can only guess exist for the purpose of housing those brave enough to enter THE CAVE. There may also be trekking opportunities as the mountains that surround the town are quite beautiful. The locals shout hello in Laos at you as you walk by, goats and dogs roam freely and kids buy BeerLao from guesthouse fridges. Regarding that last one I can only assume that the beer was for an adult although I don’t know how lax Laos is on drinking age! It’s kind of a weird place but not Toyabungah, Bali weird more like… well I don’t even know how to describe it just a bit weird! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The bus ride to Ba Nah Hin is dramatically different than the ride to Luang Prabang. The ride to LPB is a bit tiltawhirly, I describe it like that because trying to sleep on that leg of the journey was like trying to sleep on a tiltawhirl. You snake your way up and around mountain after mountain trying to will yourself not to let the nausea get to you as the bus teeters on the edge of every other cliff. The ride to BNH on the other hand is rather straight and otherworldly at times. There are many areas that reminded me of Bali, if Bali was suffering from a severe draught and had turned brown and dry. Then there were gorgeous green mountains that cooled the hot bus off and filled the air with the smell of freshness and vegetation. It’s a bit like driving in Alberta. You’ve got flat and boring, flat and boring, flat and BAM the Rocky Mountains! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfl-V-HUxjuiAMM6F1ZYirqh-z_88SWXTHbCwWxvVry1VyC8ejrN4czCDL8RLWQR98JWKIycsgUMuGYX45VO3oxMF5NYtVeXZ8V6iFu3u9eR9dg7J-hDSvduHRlZHTHN6BwexCWVogEY/s1600/IMG_0433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVfl-V-HUxjuiAMM6F1ZYirqh-z_88SWXTHbCwWxvVry1VyC8ejrN4czCDL8RLWQR98JWKIycsgUMuGYX45VO3oxMF5NYtVeXZ8V6iFu3u9eR9dg7J-hDSvduHRlZHTHN6BwexCWVogEY/s320/IMG_0433.jpg" width="179" /></a>I know what you’re wondering and have been wondering since the beginning, what about THE CAVE? Well THE CAVE it would seem is a little known world wonder. It is certainly a bit off the usual traveller path but every piece of information about it includes accounts of the brilliance that is THE CAVE. 7.5km long through a dark river cave reveals ancient stalactites protruding from the at times 100m high cave ceiling. Our first night in BNH we met a very nice Spanish couple who seemed just as interested in discovering THE CAVE as Ally. I on the other hand had my reservations. It wasn’t so much the darkness of it, or the rickety wooden boats it was more the prospect of falling into the water while inside the blackness of the cave and not being able to see anything. I’ll admit that I am somewhat terrified of things IN the water! It is a fear that began late in childhood and has evolved ever since. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Anyway so along with the Spanish couple we booked a tuk tuk for 10am and so we were officially heading to THE CAVE. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">We had an hour ride with some charismatic old ladies and a few kids before we arrived at THE CAVE’s entrance. The pool of water in front of the gapping cave mouth was blue and green and begged to be swam in but that would have to wait. Our guides led us into the opening and we wobbled our way into our just calm riverworthy boats. It wasn’t long before complete darkness embraced us and we were floating slowly with only our weak headlamps “lighting” the way. We stopped once to check out some of the impressive stalactite formations and at various times had to hop out so the guides could push the boat through the shallow areas or up tiny rapids. It was a place where you could easily let your imagination get away from you and end up curled up on the boat floor in the fetal position but I’m happy to report I did not allow this to happen and instead enjoyed the sheer magnificence that was THE CAVE.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">When our adventure was over we all jumped into the small lake and splashed around happily until it was time once more to get into the tuk tuk and head for our guesthouse. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3AhPySf-7bL6xNXDTXV-nIXLyrUKPu2BLyBdLF4IF0CNXPX73a8MgDMs2DbX47sJuYPcxbHaNcHyF0S3wgxmjgp5wyJaK2hMhWKHYQOu8ZapYqZUq6D3OnS5lo3pe0UY_NDMWvPQ4cyo/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3AhPySf-7bL6xNXDTXV-nIXLyrUKPu2BLyBdLF4IF0CNXPX73a8MgDMs2DbX47sJuYPcxbHaNcHyF0S3wgxmjgp5wyJaK2hMhWKHYQOu8ZapYqZUq6D3OnS5lo3pe0UY_NDMWvPQ4cyo/s320/IMG_0526.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>In the end I’m very happy that Ally talked me into getting off the bus in the middle of nowhere, getting into a wooden boat that required bailing out every now and then and entering THE CAVE! <o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-33280031157270046442011-04-15T05:47:00.000-07:002011-04-19T07:40:10.207-07:00This Means War<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOHoHnwGLiVppc5VeQ1ENE5hTC66H2gYMpnxu8ebveyr3aOTKRw7yg0HPB6zBqzC0WDlijEWHBHBWe9ftija1PmQvLN0qrSMG056nyhgWdpzzjxk9K3gQ-TlC8s-eCD7AINC3WOcBDjA/s1600/IMG_6913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOHoHnwGLiVppc5VeQ1ENE5hTC66H2gYMpnxu8ebveyr3aOTKRw7yg0HPB6zBqzC0WDlijEWHBHBWe9ftija1PmQvLN0qrSMG056nyhgWdpzzjxk9K3gQ-TlC8s-eCD7AINC3WOcBDjA/s320/IMG_6913.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>One must be on their guard at all times while walking or driving around Luang Prabang during the month of April. There’s a war going on between the residents of this sleepy city and it’s easy for a traveler to get caught up in the epic fight. To survive the first weeks of the month it is important to protect yourself by leaving valuable electronics safely in your room and carrying a gun or bottle full of… water. Yes it’s the annual water fight in Luang Prabang and no one is safe! I liked the city straight away and this fun festival has just made me love it even more! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Every time we ventured outside the walls of the hostel we risked being soaked to the bone, covered in flour, dyed several different colours or… a combination of all three. All three of course turning into a sort of colourful wet paste. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I can’t help but think there was a time when people were driving around this part of the world standing in the back of pickup trucks with something other than water guns. But then a bucket of water would meet my face and all thoughts of the past would be washed away… literally!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjYJS2gk2YEmZqhMtaFmtA-WGeZgvoCRZcLELpMc38tXbNs6b3b_PrlXl1-6PhOxQSzl3veHLO9aomyUdyBGU5rYiUvvs5J2riH3vLR6eK-euAhEN6f_yywgHckp87NBEyiy1POT__I8/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjYJS2gk2YEmZqhMtaFmtA-WGeZgvoCRZcLELpMc38tXbNs6b3b_PrlXl1-6PhOxQSzl3veHLO9aomyUdyBGU5rYiUvvs5J2riH3vLR6eK-euAhEN6f_yywgHckp87NBEyiy1POT__I8/s320/IMG_0239.jpg" width="179" /></a>Few are safe from the assaults. Show that you have a camera, they don’t care you’re getting wet. Plead that you just changed and dried off, they don’t care you’re getting wet. Hold up your newborn baby… well I don’t actually know if they’d soak you as I’m not in possession of a newborn! To put it into perspective it is not uncommon to see people desperately gripping their wet pants to keep them from falling off! Water flows down the side of the streets in mini rushing rivers resembling streets after a heavy rainfall. Foreigners purchase Super Soakers in bulk and form militia’s of their own and at the end of the day everyone is wet, exhausted and above all, happy!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">If you don’t like to engage in water fights because you obviously have an aversion to fun stay away from Luang Prabang and the rest of Laos during April and Laos New Year celebrations. Otherwise DEFINITELY head to Laos for the celebrations! <o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-84226639868949894742011-04-15T05:01:00.000-07:002011-05-06T03:47:10.833-07:00Luang Prabang A Love Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7jMxHXgABNu6XT1n1y2PsRwBWzd2PzmWeHkoHYCPadXFZZkORe_PtEzRWp-LLJZbt6x_pkI2OrGYJUn1toIYJj_lKSAc2AwQ1UKZwxqugF1AFEiGmKE3UDJAY4SlL-up1QroiwcXkqA/s1600/IMG_0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7jMxHXgABNu6XT1n1y2PsRwBWzd2PzmWeHkoHYCPadXFZZkORe_PtEzRWp-LLJZbt6x_pkI2OrGYJUn1toIYJj_lKSAc2AwQ1UKZwxqugF1AFEiGmKE3UDJAY4SlL-up1QroiwcXkqA/s320/IMG_0062.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Have you ever arrived somewhere and immediately gone "YES YES! I LOVE THIS PLACE!" and actually meant it? I hadn’t. Sure I have left a place thinking "Nooooo I don’t want to go :(" But never has a place captivated me the way that Laos and more specifically Luang Prabang has. I’m sure much younger travellers would disagree with me. This is a place that closes early (city curfew is 11:30) and rises early. There are no full moon type parties or drugs on display, in fact a lot of the young people who find themselves in sleepy LPB are in transit to the famous tubing in Vang Vieng or various other adventurous locations. I’m pretty sure the thought of staying in LPB for them is a bit frightening! For me though this is a place I could stay for months at a time and be quite happy. It’s absolutely beautiful. Luang Prabang is a town where you can just imagine great writers penning their greatest works and philosophers pondering the mysteries of life while watching tangerine robed monks walk along the banks of the Mekong River. It is a town of classic French colonial architecture; traditional villages peaking out from behind palm orchards and long-tail fishing boats slowly drifting down the river. Kids pass by weary of foreigner’s, that is until you smile and then they smile and wave happily before skipping off to join their friends. There is no one desperately trying to sell you sunglasses, transportation or crafts, even though you wouldn’t blame them for doing anything they could for some money. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><o:p> </o:p> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VVvQFSTVwELk9R4jFkE_ZblvDryHVazRThKL1kp5J3pXqQLGXaYC2s-QctbBNb3seZBAksJGU1foAiLWY9Pf_s82ADo56Dtqao0TIhZAfYRvnQ6qgZMLhyphenhyphenYQMf-Sr6VARbmrMsHMVP0/s1600/IMG_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VVvQFSTVwELk9R4jFkE_ZblvDryHVazRThKL1kp5J3pXqQLGXaYC2s-QctbBNb3seZBAksJGU1foAiLWY9Pf_s82ADo56Dtqao0TIhZAfYRvnQ6qgZMLhyphenhyphenYQMf-Sr6VARbmrMsHMVP0/s320/IMG_0277.JPG" width="320" /></a>The food in this town is awesome! Whether it’s Laos cuisine or French baked goods this place does it and does it well! The streets are lined with little ladies selling French bread sandwiches, fruit shakes and at night alleyways turn into Laos buffets. For 10,000 kip ($1.50) you can pile a plate high with an assortment of vegetable, noodle, rice and fruit dishes. While at dinner one night I opted to not get the buffet and while I sat waiting for my travel companions to fill their plates I watched a little boy picking through someone’s discarded takeout bag. My heart broke instantly. Here along this street of more food than will ever be eaten by all the “rich” gluttonous travellers sat a skinny child picking remnants of chicken off of 2 burnt skewers. I did what seemed logical, I went up to the buffet and piled a plate with the buffet’s bounty and handed it to the kid. He accepted shyly and said a quiet thank-you before diving in. What I did wasn’t unique, many people probably would have done the same thing but it was really the first time I’ve helped someone firsthand myself and damn it felt good… I think I’ll do it again!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8D8H5M8o8HXQs5MOyx4U4yBe1Ak-cTeTunwwwNDnn2R32aLEMMWfEEOPoKT8yxmpgjQCFLeBtPWpu09xLF8idAz5R2MNb3HwCnt-PpmthMRSvot8Fns-8LItGEo6uyr93v5oIvEAjoI/s1600/IMG_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8D8H5M8o8HXQs5MOyx4U4yBe1Ak-cTeTunwwwNDnn2R32aLEMMWfEEOPoKT8yxmpgjQCFLeBtPWpu09xLF8idAz5R2MNb3HwCnt-PpmthMRSvot8Fns-8LItGEo6uyr93v5oIvEAjoI/s320/IMG_0073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWwWEEGy_0QNb4OeWGpKHgteK5M18CI60EUSX1VVwUsNHhGfTAyF-M3UsBhZIvRJYwrz507EgSutEG9V6h9V9rqWDYpIYv53W6obNcuc9twzK_nFNAIuBQSJjm7UifY7ldUBnn9E63rk/s1600/IMGP0539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWwWEEGy_0QNb4OeWGpKHgteK5M18CI60EUSX1VVwUsNHhGfTAyF-M3UsBhZIvRJYwrz507EgSutEG9V6h9V9rqWDYpIYv53W6obNcuc9twzK_nFNAIuBQSJjm7UifY7ldUBnn9E63rk/s320/IMGP0539.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">About an hour outside the town centre you’ll find the Khangsi Waterfall the main draw to the area. Beautiful doesn’t seem like quite the right word to describe the attraction. Imagine coming across quiet waterfalls connecting aqua lagoons amongst a greener than possible forest dotted with wooden bridges and bamboo groves. It’s the perfect place to cool off after being in the heat of the Laos sun. Whether you chose to sit under the falls and allow the water to work sore muscles, fling yourself off a rope for the enjoyment of spectators or just float in the cool water you’ll certainly leave with an urge to turn around and go right back for more! Besides the waterfalls the park is home to the Moon Bear Conservation Park. Bears have been rescued from traditional markets and black market traders and now live in an enclosure that allows them to be almost like normal bears! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Luang Prabang is quiet, quaint and quirky. It is not everyones cup of tea or rather Lao Lao whiskey but it won me over!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-85057702125217226802011-04-07T03:00:00.000-07:002011-04-07T03:00:21.617-07:00Intimate Moments with Mangoes<!--StartFragment--> <br />
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</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8PBnd5uDx76lR3w6tc-rzSkK8AwLc4PWqu9WtrYjj4Kbyj66pfTffIupRQzTgbhapo6i-c_nbQH1Qzte9QtlC70d2Xo0zHOzatLr0ty-xPjDQX94x9BMR4C4ASQk3vX5805UDx7mVnk/s1600/mangoes-425mb061609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8PBnd5uDx76lR3w6tc-rzSkK8AwLc4PWqu9WtrYjj4Kbyj66pfTffIupRQzTgbhapo6i-c_nbQH1Qzte9QtlC70d2Xo0zHOzatLr0ty-xPjDQX94x9BMR4C4ASQk3vX5805UDx7mVnk/s320/mangoes-425mb061609.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intimate Moment #1</b> – My first mango experience came after nearly 1 month of traveling. Mangoes were out of season in Bali so it wasn’t until Jakarta that I finally got my first taste of the delicious perfect fruit! And how was it you ask… MAGICAL!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intimate Moment #2</b> – Dinner in Singapore. Well Mangoes are certainly in season in the rest of South East Asia. At dinner I ordered a mango lassi and it was OUTSTANDING!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intimate Moment #3</b> – Lunch in Kuala Lumpur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fresh mango juice… YUM!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intimate Moment #4</b> – On the Kuala Lumpur International Express train platform. Ally bought me a mango and I ate it while waiting for the train and it was AWESOME!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Intimate Moment #5 and beyond</b> – I think it’s safe to say that the mango moments are just going to keep getting better from here on out! I just have to remember not to let Ally carry them in her bag after she committed Mangocide! They are everywhere here in Laos, including 2 perfectly ripe ones sitting beside my hostel bed, well away from Ally’s murderous bag!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><o:p>I really REALLY like mangoes! </o:p></div><!--EndFragment-->Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-22959904928292947882011-04-07T02:53:00.000-07:002011-04-18T03:27:27.131-07:00Singapore and Kuala Lumpur<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Singapore is a place I have wanted to visit for a long time. Not because of a specific culture or specific attractions but because it sounded like a place of the future and I wanted to see it for myself!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I certainly was not disappointed. It’s a nation of only one city, millions of people all of whom seem to hail from a different corner of the world and buildings that test the imagination. It’s clean… almost too clean! This is the result of heavy penalties for littering, chewing gum and eating and drinking on public transport. I certainly have nothing against these restrictions, especially after Indonesia and watching people through their garbage out of train windows and bathe in rivers that could pass as garbage dumps. Pristine Singapore was the breath of fresh air we all needed. Sadly we only really had one full day to explore and there was a couple hours where I thought I may have less than that as the big bad bug I had picked up in Yogyakarta made a big bad comeback. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SDMPWsbVX9DYJtGfBDBnFTycN9L7BuIGuUmlHsCBsl81wbmoOa6GZV2zP0TbQS5K6ElziTBFVs2qo9jdTUeNsN5mvfLv3vEsZaLq5JWMyTdnlY2CZSFolynjwBV86grTpJ-4pbWRA84/s1600/IMG_6319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SDMPWsbVX9DYJtGfBDBnFTycN9L7BuIGuUmlHsCBsl81wbmoOa6GZV2zP0TbQS5K6ElziTBFVs2qo9jdTUeNsN5mvfLv3vEsZaLq5JWMyTdnlY2CZSFolynjwBV86grTpJ-4pbWRA84/s200/IMG_6319.jpg" width="136" /></a>Lucky for me I woke up feeling much better and pushed myself to head out with Ally and Mia. Where did we go? Well the zoo of course! Singapore Zoo is by far the nicest I have ever seen and after seeing other Asian zoo’s it was great to see one that worked, one that seemed to be more for the animals than the homo-sapiens and one that made the spectator jealous of the creature comforts the animals were exposed to! I went off on my own and just soaked up the atmosphere. Although there were clearly thousands of guests mulling about (it was a Saturday) I never once felt crowded or like I had to strain to see something. If you ever find yourself in Singapore don’t miss the zoo!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">After the zoo we cleaned up and headed out for our last big meal as a group. Naturally we hit up Little India and all ate until we nearly exploded. It was my first non-toast based meal in sometime and although perhaps Chicken Tikka wasn’t the best choice it was still a delicious one!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The next day we boarded a bus to Kuala Lumpur, but not just any bus, a luxurious, first class bus. This bus was extreme. We each had a message seat that could lay nearly flat and a VOD screen with movies and old school Nintendo games like Mario Kart. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEN5hil4tl2ncde1FAJR1YyAC_MgiUbkB3XzUIm6k2WJcGzbkiS-8MhffIULhkiFJyZtGPMjqnbBek0lYMv5w1q7aICRoDiDhFs1yPxd-5U9C58_1jXPzotj5NbIfxkkcC_tDStB83ZE/s1600/IMG_6652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEN5hil4tl2ncde1FAJR1YyAC_MgiUbkB3XzUIm6k2WJcGzbkiS-8MhffIULhkiFJyZtGPMjqnbBek0lYMv5w1q7aICRoDiDhFs1yPxd-5U9C58_1jXPzotj5NbIfxkkcC_tDStB83ZE/s200/IMG_6652.jpg" width="133" /></a>Once in Kuala Lumpur we headed to our hostel. I was in Kuala Lumpur in 2009 with another friend and we had stayed at Backhome Hostel so I had booked it for the girls and I again. It was strange because the first time I was in KL I wasn’t too impressed. I mean the towers were amazing and I could have spent hours just looking up at them but KL itself wasn’t much. The second time however I found myself with more of an appreciation for the city. I felt completely comfortable even when I went out walking alone. It was still incredibly familiar! I could totally see myself living in Kuala Lumpur or Singapore in the future!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Before we knew it though it was time to board our flight to Laos and begin the last 3 months of our South East Asian adventure! <o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-68171600835983065472011-04-07T02:46:00.000-07:002011-04-12T05:57:30.977-07:00INDONESIA!<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I’ve now had a few days to reflect on my time in the country of 17,508 islands and the conclusion I’ve come to is I’m glad I went but from now on I will keep my enthusiasm about a place in check until I have at least made my way out of the airport!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">There is absolutely no doubt that Indonesia is a beautiful country. The landscape is absolutely breathtaking. There were actually times I found myself searching the green terraced hills for dinosaurs and other extinct creatures as we wound our way across Bali. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">After Bali we headed to Java, an island we didn’t expect to like all that much but ended up enjoying quite a bit. We spent time in Solo, Yogyakarta and Jakarta. All three had their perks and I would definitely recommend them. We spent the most time in Yogyakarta and visited Borobudur a magnificent Buddhist temple. Sadly while there I fell quite ill and after spending one night violently ridding myself of any sustenance Ally and I boarded a train for Jakarta. Now it wouldn’t have been an overly pleasant trip had I done it healthy but doing it sick made it that much more difficult! Getting sick away from home reminds us that we are not unstoppable! We are very much stoppable!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Our time in Jakarta was lazy partly due to me not being able to kick whatever bug had entered my body and our collective exhaustion from the past couple weeks. We didn’t get up to that much other than visiting the post office and the old Dutch quarter which was a great area full of character and a fabulous old café, Café Batavia. Walking into the café is like walking through a door and being transported back to the 1930’s. Stunning! Jakarta didn’t scare me or make me want to run back to Yogyakarta and we had heard that it likely would. To each their own I suppose. If people are telling you to bypass Jakarta shrug your shoulders and go anyway at least for a couple days.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbG7umqO9BmQAh4wetJDSYitdirCDGU7DCWfKwj7N26vwQes8IoBrHMXpg4R2Fad02OX6PdEeCtsE3GFk8Ji2W7lIA6ZPbjaR0KN8AIr0hgEn42uQmDIeGZ-_Y8-j7NPXmQeEgQfNB7_g/s1600/IMG_5884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbG7umqO9BmQAh4wetJDSYitdirCDGU7DCWfKwj7N26vwQes8IoBrHMXpg4R2Fad02OX6PdEeCtsE3GFk8Ji2W7lIA6ZPbjaR0KN8AIr0hgEn42uQmDIeGZ-_Y8-j7NPXmQeEgQfNB7_g/s200/IMG_5884.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snake Curry in Yogyakarta (Cobra and Python)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>What I really wanted to get out of Indonesia was a strong dose of culture but I came away knowing as much about Indonesian culture as I had arrived with. I’m not sure we ever met a real Indonesian, someone who wasn’t trying to sell us an experience, transport or merchandise. That is perhaps my biggest regret. I walked away from that gorgeous country with the impression that Indonesians live to sell and scam and make the lives of travellers one of frustration and stress. I know that is not the real Indonesia but I would hesitate to try and find it again.<o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-27786501008278782372011-03-23T02:57:00.000-07:002011-03-23T03:02:15.154-07:00Transport, turtles and a Palace<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlFekRPTCajiYihhtibkQYw_IOcAYcEvJw8H7XdRNSno7cj277mTq7a3TopMFLZuhP1zCqsdYoBlT99U6i0od2hbTqvbeiF4hDbW6aeWXUU1h3LvkeMtlhN3ODy-HA0544IZk_K3x4IA/s1600/IMG_5419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlFekRPTCajiYihhtibkQYw_IOcAYcEvJw8H7XdRNSno7cj277mTq7a3TopMFLZuhP1zCqsdYoBlT99U6i0od2hbTqvbeiF4hDbW6aeWXUU1h3LvkeMtlhN3ODy-HA0544IZk_K3x4IA/s200/IMG_5419.JPG" width="200" /></a>The first thing I noticed about Gili Trawangan was that no one was harassing us about transport. This could be because the only forms of transport on the island are horses, bikes and good old-fashioned walking. Despite the reggae music and boat motors Trawangan was a wonderful place! It is easy to see why the guidebook states that many people end up staying longer than planned, we did 4 nights and I think we'd only really planned on 2 or 3. I would have happily stayed longer!<br />
<br />
Our snorkeling trip turned out to be too good to be true. We had paid $30 each for island hopping and 5 snorkel stops. In the end we stopped at Gili Meno for a mediocre lunch and snorkeled twice. Naturally, places on the island were offering trips for about $7! We did get a great snorkel guide though. He knew all the best places to see large schools of fish and sea turtles! Still we were very disappointed by the short trip and agreed to stop back in Senggigi for a chat with the guy that we purchased the trip from.<br />
<br />
After 4 great days we were ready to say goodbye and purchased return tickets to Senggigi from the corner shop guy. He obviously had a company and had a friend that would drive us. The whole trip back to Senggigi our driver was trying to sell us another day of sightseeing. He just wouldn't take no for an answer so Katie pretended to get his number and we said we'd call the next day when we knew what was happening!<br />
<br />
We arrived back at the tourist centre and the guy (let's call him Frankie) we purchased the trip from just about shit his pants! We told him that while we had a nice time and the guides were great we didn't get nearly what we had been promised and either wanted some money back OR transport back to the ferry. Frankie said we couldn't get money back but they would drive us to the ferry. We had gone into the office ready for a battle and ended up in a car with Frankie on our way to his house for fresh coconuts. Yep before we got to the harbor he took us to his home where we sat on plush sofa's scooping coconut into our mouths. It was strange to say the least!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeDRooKzF1Mq7BZsZJlIIP4A6krms2jTLv8o3tbAKdvPytafNVAKUFUKDttTPRRCJLNPz30wDgaYPmDlczflDglFIogc5mBFFtFIj6izmrnvVEwak11AcZ1c957HfObHdTb8uwrc-mYM/s1600/IMG_5503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeDRooKzF1Mq7BZsZJlIIP4A6krms2jTLv8o3tbAKdvPytafNVAKUFUKDttTPRRCJLNPz30wDgaYPmDlczflDglFIogc5mBFFtFIj6izmrnvVEwak11AcZ1c957HfObHdTb8uwrc-mYM/s200/IMG_5503.jpg" width="133" /></a>Before long we were back on Bali and had settled into a homestay in Padangbai. While our first time through Padangbai had led to a near meltdown on my part because of the constant sales pitches, the second time was very laid-back and enjoyable! We stayed at Made Homestay right along the beach for $5 each.<br />
<br />
After we headed to Tirtagangga, a small town surrounded by beautiful rice terraces. It's a very peaceful place bursting with green and a wicked water palace! Although before we were even out of our bemo a guy was trying to sell us sunglasses, it doesn't even matter if you're already wearing a pair! I swear these people would try and sell you bottled air if they could.<br />
"You want air in a bottle?"<br />
"Um... no thanks I'm good with the free stuff you know... everywhere!"<br />
"But this air better *shakes bottle*... it's in bottle!"<br />
"Yes but thiiis air *waves hands around* is free!"<br />
<br />
So far on this trip I have learned many things that I would like to share with fellow travellers who may one day find themselves with a "Do you need transport?" hangover.<br />
<br />
1. If a deal sounds to good to be true it probably is, this is a warning you read everywhere for a reason!<br />
2. If you're foreign you're clearly rich so be ready for everyone to try and sell you stuff and then seem confused when you don't.<br />
3. You will be offered transport even when you're sitting in a car.<br />
4. Everyone will try to sell you something. The conversation starts off like this<br />
"Where are you from?"<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrQpN6xY2emZJBQ9QJzLhhyphenhyphenu5qPE_1bDI83idd4nthriJlb-sEmoRD7l3AcXrAN7OId-CF74X3LDVZWap2p4JCJcjl0yxS1HDHQ8YkYSYU5ahR36wtGi1I-7EAexYbz4XWJBE5U0-Ncs/s1600/IMG_5453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXrQpN6xY2emZJBQ9QJzLhhyphenhyphenu5qPE_1bDI83idd4nthriJlb-sEmoRD7l3AcXrAN7OId-CF74X3LDVZWap2p4JCJcjl0yxS1HDHQ8YkYSYU5ahR36wtGi1I-7EAexYbz4XWJBE5U0-Ncs/s200/IMG_5453.jpg" width="133" /></a>"We're from Canada, Denmark, Scotland and Ireland"<br />
"Oh you United Nations! How long you in insert location here"<br />
"Just a day."<br />
"You need transport?"<br />
"No thank-you!"<br />
"You need transport, I know a guy. He's my brother/cousin/father/barber."<br />
"Nope it's ok we have transport!"<br />
"How much you want to pay for transport? My guy do it for 200,000."<br />
"Really no thanks!"<br />
"My guy have nice car! How much you pay?"<br />
"Really it's ok! Can we just see the menu please?"<br />
<br />
*This conversation can be altered slightly to accommodate the sale of necklaces, fruit, water or a room and it gets old incredibly fast.<br />
I realize that everyone has to make a living but that doesn't make it any less annoying!<br />
5. Indonesia hasn't been nearly as cheap as we thought it would be and we are all running to the nearest ATM far more than we'd planned<br />
6. Finding the real Indonesia is proving to be difficult. We are all on edge when it comes to trusting anyone and that makes things difficult. It's hard to find the culture we want to find when they've masked so much to suit a certain kind of tourist.<br />
7. Bali is either a dog lovers fantasy or hell. Everywhere you look there are dogs, they just aren't the healthiest creatures on earth. It's like "OOOOH dogs!! Oh no... it's starving :(" (Padangbai's Topi Homestay has set up a Street dog fund, though which was very nice to see!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUi5GLzLFJTEYA9Awb0Qbek_MD1EI8Yq8sgoq2uCj7p1VGDBLjdEFz9OJHehyphenhyphenggBNvRs4w0BCVY8fUrG0oJeS3k6g4N1y6JVqswFlZy60ini7oWIY-VG9VxudE67VOuHWf0Y08SZLBPs/s1600/IMG_5545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUi5GLzLFJTEYA9Awb0Qbek_MD1EI8Yq8sgoq2uCj7p1VGDBLjdEFz9OJHehyphenhyphenggBNvRs4w0BCVY8fUrG0oJeS3k6g4N1y6JVqswFlZy60ini7oWIY-VG9VxudE67VOuHWf0Y08SZLBPs/s200/IMG_5545.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Soon we'll be off to Toyahbungkah so Mia can trek up a volcano!Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-20090142177662682172011-03-13T06:09:00.001-07:002011-03-14T05:54:55.231-07:00Magic Mushrooms Anyone?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“You want magic mushrooms?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“If they’re free sure!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Oh yes! I’m on them right now! Flying!” the guy says as he turns up the techno music while he drives down an impossibly narrow lane made of mud and rocks.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">That was the conversation we had with one of our many drives of the day. To say the past 48 hours have been weird would be an understatement. They were weird and frustrating and a bit stressful. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">It all started when we left our lovely room at Sama Sama Bungalows in Amed on the west coast of Bali. We had to get to Padangbai to catch the ferry to Lombok and then travel up Lombok to get to the Gili Islands. Our room in Amed was so beautiful that it was a bit nice to think we were there in the off-season and scored it for the low price of $6 a night per person with breakfast! The serenity of Amed was broken quickly when we arrived in Pandangbai to a chorus of “You want transport? Ferry to Lombok? We give you good price!” What was the good price you ask. Well 300,000 rupiah per person which is just over $30 and way too much when you’re on a rather strict budget! So we insisted they leave us to discuss it and by the time we got across the street to a variety store they’d dropped the price to 100,000 each. We still weren’t onboard though so Ally and I headed for the ferry office. Along the way several others tried to get us to purchase tickets from them but we held our ground, they even followed us on their scooters. The ferry office was a weird place. It was a newer building but dark and empty except for one man sitting in a waiting room like area not looking like he was actually waiting for anything. We found a security guard and he wrote down the price of 1 ferry ticket, 36,000 so about $4. So we figured by the time we paid for the ferry and transport up to the Gili’s we’d spend around 90,000 or more so we got the guy to lower his price to 90 each and off we went. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The ferry was 4 hours and quite boring. When we first got on we were bombarded by women trying to sell us snacks and they would NOT leave us alone. I even raised my voice at them and that’s not really not me! FRUSTRATION! Meanwhile we spent a good amount of time on the ferry watching for tsunami like waves on the horizon. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Of course when we arrived in Lombok we were taken to a place selling trips and they told us we wouldn’t get to the boat on time so we’d have to stay the night in Senggigi. We overpaid for a snorkeling trip and got a free night at a local inn. This was the place were things got weird. The strange little inn was inhabited by a few older couples, all enjoying the plentiful magic mushroom supply and reliving their youth. At dinner our waiter took Mia to the ATM on his scooter then came back and tried to rent us some bikes because people here don’t seem to just have one job! If they can make money on the side they will.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">In the morning we jumped in our van and headed for the harbor. When we arrived we were ushered into a café full of other foreigners. Some guy tried to tell us that we needed a return ticket from the Gili’s and said that everyone around us had them. We insisted that we didn’t need them and had read several things that informed us NOT to purchase return tickets from these people. There was a Canadian guy sitting next to us and he told the guy to stop lying to us as no one had booked return tickets. I got angry and said some thing’s and we all stood our ground and then the guy trying to sell us stuff threw our ticket down and told us we couldn’t get on the boat to GO to the Gili’s and then called us bitches in Indonesian he was also very angry at Canadians saying Canadian’s were bad people! By this time we took the grand stand of grabbing our stuff and heading for the harbor without anyone else. I’m not going to lie we were all hoping to start a revolution but no one else followed! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">In the end we arrived at the ticket office and got our tickets no problem! So the issues on Lombok turned out to be just another money grabbing ploy. On the island we have experienced a far nicer and quieter existence than we have for the past week. We snorkeled, checked out the sea turtle conservation tanks and got to know our perhaps overly friendly inn owner! I’m not sure if he doesn't have any friends or he was just happy to have girls around to talk to about all the "tall fit European guys!" I’d love to repeat the things he was saying but I just can’t bring myself to do it! I will say we were in a state of shock with a side of OMG laughter!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Tomorrow we’re heading out on a snorkeling trip and I think we’ll call the Gili’s home for a few more days!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">On another note no Komodo’s for me. I just can’t deal with the suspect deals and money obsessed tour operators! One should not be so stressed out in an environment like this! <o:p></o:p></div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8329196113044162078.post-3149808146904296382011-03-10T05:44:00.000-08:002011-03-11T03:02:38.939-08:00In the beginning...<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cUF19b8d122u3KWpXRjrOnKE2tKHauSmxj54U_0YH1McuGmJ9KhaZgRmUZ4xtVGWKSZz3ViGATwt9neDKerQW6PwuDo9xzCVt2w8_3fFEk9cdcpk9a-YlAAJmDEAVmHZog1OB00JGC0/s1600/IMG_4703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cUF19b8d122u3KWpXRjrOnKE2tKHauSmxj54U_0YH1McuGmJ9KhaZgRmUZ4xtVGWKSZz3ViGATwt9neDKerQW6PwuDo9xzCVt2w8_3fFEk9cdcpk9a-YlAAJmDEAVmHZog1OB00JGC0/s200/IMG_4703.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Bali in Korean means hurry so it’s kind of funny that Bali, Indonesia is a slow paced kind of place! It has been a nice change and I’m slowly but surely adjusting to this pace. There is still part of me that thinks I’ve only got a few days left and will have to return to work but I don’t… I’m totally free. I have no schedule, no duties, no 9-5 business going on at all in my present situation, a girl could definitely get used to this!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">I left Korea on a late flight bound for Kuala Lumpur where I had a 5-hour layover. 5 hours of staring at my computer screen begging the time to go faster! At 9:30am I boarded a flight to Denpasar, Bali. I had to get a visa on arrival and had prepared myself for a long wait but securing the visa was a matter of putting my money on the counter and taking the slicker to the customs agent who stuck it in my passport and waved me through! Waiting in the No Goods to Declare line was a whole other story. It was muggy and busy and a bit pointless. After that it was off to Kuta and Poppies Lane II to meet up with the girls.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Kuta is insane. It’s a total party town. Most of the people there were surfers up from Australia and very pushy locals attempting to sell us their wares. The 5 of us couldn’t wait to head somewhere less inhabited and in your face. The beach is less than pleasant with large amounts of garbage washing up on shore when the tide goes out. Not to mention a local coming up every 4 minutes to try and sell everything from sarongs, messages and surf lessons. It wasn’t a relaxing or an inspiring place so up to Ubud we went. Ubud is where the love in Eat, Pray, Love took place and there were plenty of people looking for the answers on how to love themselves. I have a feeling it was easier to do this before the book came out! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The 5 of us however did not travel to Ubud to find ourselves; in fact I think we are trying to lose ourselves a bit while on this trip! We went for the monkeys! Ubud is home to The Monkey Forest Sanctuary, a lush forest, home to temples, ancient trees and hundreds of pretty cheeky long-tailed Balinese macaques. It was a breathtaking place like a scene out of Indiana Jones. We all escaped the forest without having a run-in with any of the locals but witnessed others who weren’t quite as lucky. All of us did have some close calls but it’s hard to blame the little guys I mean I’d get grumpy too if people were sticking camera’s in my face all day! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">While Ubud was nice it was a bit above our budget so we arranged for a car to drive us to the east coast area known as Amed. The drive was stunning. Rice terraces made up most of the landscape with impossibly green mountains rising into the clouds behind them. The roads were narrow and winding but drivers here seem to have a good head on their shoulders! <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">We are now at the Sama Sama Bungalows across the road from a black sand beach lounging in a bit of luxury! Despite being above our budget at $6 a person this place is pretty worth it! I have a feeling that it would cost much much more elsewhere! <o:p></o:p><br />
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We snorkelled the US warship Liberty which was sunk in WWII today and it was brilliant! Very eerie but amazing nonetheless! My favourite part was definitely getting caught up in a large school of circling Jack Fish! Magic!<br />
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Tomorrow we're off to Lombok!<br />
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We are not in a location that will be affected by the Japanese earthquake. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">(Pictures to come when internet is faster)</div>Meganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08227865040953834716noreply@blogger.com0