Durango, CO
Yup. We have found ourselves in a lovely house. Four girls, all from Kerrville, TX, building fires every night to stay warm, and coming home each evening to our transported family. Looks like another amazing 8 months, in some of the most beautiful country...
Eire...
Spring has just begun and in our two weeks of Ireland we've witnessed the greening of the countryside... yellow heather and little white flowers mingle with sheep ready for shearing. People congregate in shop doorways or in folding chairs on the sidewalk, all trying to soak up an unfamiliar sun.
Our trip has come to an end and we anxiously look forward to tex-mex, Fredericksburg peaches, and, of course, our
FAMILY
&
FRIENDS.
Our trip has come to an end and we anxiously look forward to tex-mex, Fredericksburg peaches, and, of course, our
FAMILY
&
FRIENDS.
1 Israeli, 4 English, 1 Belgian, & 2 Americans
We have had a piece of home in Lao. Vang Vieng is divided by a river with most of the town concentrated on one side. On the opposite shore green farmlands stretch from water to steep hills, nearly twice the size of the Texas Hill Country, but too small to be considered mountains. Cows and water buffalo spot the landscape and Bermuda grass fills in the gaps.
Over the past week we have joined up with a rather large travel group who seemed to have arrived just in time for Jenny's birthday. Nearly everyone of them had picked up a little something to give the birthday girl, making it sweetly reminiscent of childhood birthday parties. And to top it all off... a chocolate birthday cake!
The past few days have been spent walking through the countryside, tubing down the guadalupe's asian parallel, swinging on rope swings, and exploring some of the many caves that I am convinced make up an entire underground labrinth. One of the caves was seemingly just as large as Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico.
Over the past week we have joined up with a rather large travel group who seemed to have arrived just in time for Jenny's birthday. Nearly everyone of them had picked up a little something to give the birthday girl, making it sweetly reminiscent of childhood birthday parties. And to top it all off... a chocolate birthday cake!
The past few days have been spent walking through the countryside, tubing down the guadalupe's asian parallel, swinging on rope swings, and exploring some of the many caves that I am convinced make up an entire underground labrinth. One of the caves was seemingly just as large as Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico.
Volunteer Opportunities in Cambodia
For any travellers who might have stumbled onto this blog sight, Cambodia is a great country to donate time and energy. If you are planning on seeing Angkor Wat or any of the temples around Siem Reap consider stopping in at Kantha Bopha Children's Hospital to donate blood or make a money contribution. Beat Richner, a Swiss doctor, has founded three FREE hospitals (the other two are in Phnom Phen) in Cambodia to help provide health care to the needy. On Saturday nights Richner puts on a cello concert to raise awareness. His music is lovely and the briefings in between are quite informative.
If you are headed to Phnom Phen I highly recommend The Lighthouse Orphanage. Presently I do not have directions but I will try to edit this entry just as soon as I do, in the meantime, ask around. Some of the owners of guesthouses know where it is. Some stuff that would be appreciated: fresh fruit, rice, soap, school supplies.... really anything you can think of. These kids have very little but are all sweet, loving, and really just want a big hug. You can expect to be received by open arms. We spent an afternoon there just playing with kids, but you could easily spend all day if you have the time.
If you are headed to Phnom Phen I highly recommend The Lighthouse Orphanage. Presently I do not have directions but I will try to edit this entry just as soon as I do, in the meantime, ask around. Some of the owners of guesthouses know where it is. Some stuff that would be appreciated: fresh fruit, rice, soap, school supplies.... really anything you can think of. These kids have very little but are all sweet, loving, and really just want a big hug. You can expect to be received by open arms. We spent an afternoon there just playing with kids, but you could easily spend all day if you have the time.
The Ubiquitous Baguette
They're everywhere. Clearly attributable to the French occupation. If you order toast, you're bound to receive a baguette.
"The Road through Cambodia" or "A Brief Introduction to Cambodia"
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The road from the Thai border to Siem Reap is red dirt, and if you're going 180 kilometers, it may take 6 1/2- 7 hours in a bus with a broken AC (it is VERY hot in Cambodia right now). And in a bus full of 21 backpackers you may hear some groans mixed with a bit of laughter and one Englishman in the back may announce, "That's 30 km an hour," after doing the math in his sweaty head. And if you're really lucky you may pass a naked two year old riding "bareback" behind his sister on an oversized bicycle.
Past wooden houses built on stilts with people gathering underneath to escape the sun, children smile and play on the side of the street with their backs turned to the road so the red dust can't interrupt their game. Jenny and I are cautious where we put our feet since we are seated at the front, near the engine, and consequentially the insidiously heating metal floors.
We go bumping across a minefield spotted country, currently in the middle of a dry, red-cracked-earth-drought. Children splash around in puddles left in river beds, where green moss lingers as the only proof of a distant rainy season. In the evening men bathe their sons by spooning bowl full after bowl full from a metal pump. Women lower buckets into wells and at the tourist stops (aside the bumpy dirt roads) children who speak four languages run up to greet guests with smiles, and frowns when newcomers refuse to purchase their postcards or bracelets. A smile or slight tickle tend to dissolve the lugubrious glances from faces that struggle to maintain their stern appeal. One child knows Japanese, English, Thai, and Khmer (the Cambodian language).
"All of them have learned this in the past five years," explains our college-aged guide (an English literature student at the univeristy in Siem Reap-- his favorite historical American figure is Abraham Lincoln). Before that no tourists came on this road because the road "was dangerous (and plagued by) bandits." The only danger now seems to be the potholes, but we are on a road. Hidden landmines dot the countryside, mostly left over from the Khmer regime, but some from US cluster bombs planted after the Vietnam War (to stop northern vietnamese from escaping). "Now the Vietnamese enter as they please," continues our guide, "Even though WE can't leave the country. And our government doesn't care. They don't do anything." But throughout his serious explanations and discussion of genocide and repressive regimes, he smiles and jokes.
Cows seem to roam unhearded with bamboo bells around their necks and washboard ribs sticking out on either side. Apparently a new tourism has emerged in Cambodia where people (and supposedly this is especially popular with male Texans) can go to a bar-shooting range. Yup, an AK-47 and a cold one. For 100 US dollars you can blow up a cow with a rocket launcher and later, the death is dismissed as a mine explosion.
Past wooden houses built on stilts with people gathering underneath to escape the sun, children smile and play on the side of the street with their backs turned to the road so the red dust can't interrupt their game. Jenny and I are cautious where we put our feet since we are seated at the front, near the engine, and consequentially the insidiously heating metal floors.
We go bumping across a minefield spotted country, currently in the middle of a dry, red-cracked-earth-drought. Children splash around in puddles left in river beds, where green moss lingers as the only proof of a distant rainy season. In the evening men bathe their sons by spooning bowl full after bowl full from a metal pump. Women lower buckets into wells and at the tourist stops (aside the bumpy dirt roads) children who speak four languages run up to greet guests with smiles, and frowns when newcomers refuse to purchase their postcards or bracelets. A smile or slight tickle tend to dissolve the lugubrious glances from faces that struggle to maintain their stern appeal. One child knows Japanese, English, Thai, and Khmer (the Cambodian language).
"All of them have learned this in the past five years," explains our college-aged guide (an English literature student at the univeristy in Siem Reap-- his favorite historical American figure is Abraham Lincoln). Before that no tourists came on this road because the road "was dangerous (and plagued by) bandits." The only danger now seems to be the potholes, but we are on a road. Hidden landmines dot the countryside, mostly left over from the Khmer regime, but some from US cluster bombs planted after the Vietnam War (to stop northern vietnamese from escaping). "Now the Vietnamese enter as they please," continues our guide, "Even though WE can't leave the country. And our government doesn't care. They don't do anything." But throughout his serious explanations and discussion of genocide and repressive regimes, he smiles and jokes.
Cows seem to roam unhearded with bamboo bells around their necks and washboard ribs sticking out on either side. Apparently a new tourism has emerged in Cambodia where people (and supposedly this is especially popular with male Texans) can go to a bar-shooting range. Yup, an AK-47 and a cold one. For 100 US dollars you can blow up a cow with a rocket launcher and later, the death is dismissed as a mine explosion.
On the Road to Cambodia
We finally had to leave Phi Phi in the name of a visa run (it is amazing we have almost been here 30 days!). Two days ago we boarded a ferry and began our trek north, straight into a storm building over the ocean. For the first time temperatures dropped below 80 degrees. The ocean grew choppy and lightning was striking all around, making an incredibly dramatic backdrop for our departure.
After a 14 hour night bus ride from Krabi, we pulled into the soggy capital this morning. The monsoon season has arrived and it has been raining non-stop in Bangkok. It is nice to see the once crowded streets clear and with fewer tourists we managed to bag a cheap room with windows (as opposed to the cubicle we resided in before). This morning we worked out the logistics for our visas and are now planning to head to Cambodia in the next couple of days. While we aren't sure how long we'll be there, we would like to visit Angkor Wat and possibly even check out a national park in the northeast, all of this tentative, of course. After Cambodia we are planning on heading north through Loas (which has an incredible reputation amongst travellers) and then on over to northern Thailand. I'm not sure what to expect from internet resources in these countries, but will do my best to keep in touch.
After a 14 hour night bus ride from Krabi, we pulled into the soggy capital this morning. The monsoon season has arrived and it has been raining non-stop in Bangkok. It is nice to see the once crowded streets clear and with fewer tourists we managed to bag a cheap room with windows (as opposed to the cubicle we resided in before). This morning we worked out the logistics for our visas and are now planning to head to Cambodia in the next couple of days. While we aren't sure how long we'll be there, we would like to visit Angkor Wat and possibly even check out a national park in the northeast, all of this tentative, of course. After Cambodia we are planning on heading north through Loas (which has an incredible reputation amongst travellers) and then on over to northern Thailand. I'm not sure what to expect from internet resources in these countries, but will do my best to keep in touch.
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This is after the cleanup. A lot has been accomplished, but there is still so much more to do. Some areas have yet to even be touched by a cleanup crew.
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This is one of the restaurants we helped paint. It is now open and serves a delightful penang curry... :)
Tsunami Evacuation
Last night, while on a mission for a delicious banana-chocolate pancake, I found a tsunami warning. The news was giving us twenty minutes to reach high ground. Images of Phuket's evacuation flashed on television screens and some people on Kho Phi PHi began packing their bags full of rations. All the boats left the pier and headed towards deeper waters.
Following the news warnings that earthquake activity in the Indian ocean could cause a tsunami, we cleared to high ground and spent half the evening (i slept) just waiting. In the end, everything here was all right.
Following the news warnings that earthquake activity in the Indian ocean could cause a tsunami, we cleared to high ground and spent half the evening (i slept) just waiting. In the end, everything here was all right.
Kho Phi Phi
After one night in Phuket we caught a boat to an island that other travellers had mentioned as a good place to volunteer. Newspapers were calling this island one of the hardest hit areas and some said that the government was refusing entry. There were even rumors that the whole island was closed. On the contrary, many of the people who survived the tsunami are working hard to reopen their businesses.
While the issue is multi-faceted, my simple understanding is that after the tsunami the government was interested in buying up property on the island. The Thai landowners got together and discussed it, but decided they wanted to keep their land and rebuild their lives. Having decided to remain on the island, they expected to receive government aid but once they requested assistance Thailand's government responded with a new "negotiation date." March 22, the date reserved, brought only a government offer to once again buy the land. When owners refused to sell and instead asked for assistance, the government simply responded with a new negotiation date.
It has now been 3 months and the government has done very little to help. After the tsunami a group that goes by the name of HI-Phi-Phi (Help International, Phi PHi Island) came together to help businesses get up and running. Travellers have flocked in and are working everyday to assist the locals in their development. Backpackers from all over the world are laying cement, snorkeling to clear trash, laying bricks, painting, etc. One Irish gentleman raised money with his son, flew to Thailand, and then purchased a cement mixer, concrete, and supplies and is now moving from one devastated building to another.
The community here is incredible. Jenny and I have been volunteering for almost a week and truly believe this is a great organization for contributing both time and money. Just in the past week we have seen multiple businesses reopen. Tourists are beginning to return to the Island, but it is still far from a full recovery.
To see pictures of the progress or to donate to this effort (they need all the help possible) please visit: www.handsonphiphi.org
If you happen to be travelling to the area or know people who will be, spread the word.
While the issue is multi-faceted, my simple understanding is that after the tsunami the government was interested in buying up property on the island. The Thai landowners got together and discussed it, but decided they wanted to keep their land and rebuild their lives. Having decided to remain on the island, they expected to receive government aid but once they requested assistance Thailand's government responded with a new "negotiation date." March 22, the date reserved, brought only a government offer to once again buy the land. When owners refused to sell and instead asked for assistance, the government simply responded with a new negotiation date.
It has now been 3 months and the government has done very little to help. After the tsunami a group that goes by the name of HI-Phi-Phi (Help International, Phi PHi Island) came together to help businesses get up and running. Travellers have flocked in and are working everyday to assist the locals in their development. Backpackers from all over the world are laying cement, snorkeling to clear trash, laying bricks, painting, etc. One Irish gentleman raised money with his son, flew to Thailand, and then purchased a cement mixer, concrete, and supplies and is now moving from one devastated building to another.
The community here is incredible. Jenny and I have been volunteering for almost a week and truly believe this is a great organization for contributing both time and money. Just in the past week we have seen multiple businesses reopen. Tourists are beginning to return to the Island, but it is still far from a full recovery.
To see pictures of the progress or to donate to this effort (they need all the help possible) please visit: www.handsonphiphi.org
If you happen to be travelling to the area or know people who will be, spread the word.
"Further South"
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After Ko Chang we caught a bus south along the coast and through a series of events (like missing the bus we had planned to take) actually wound up in Phuket. Entering the city left all of the riders a bit shaken. The road dips in and out of coastline and just north of Phuket the trees disappear, flourescent tubes mounted on poles replace old street lamps, and all one can see for many miles is red bulldozed earth and buildings constructed from salvaged rubbish. The current drought that is affecting most of Thailand makes matters even worse. Some people threw-up and we were all silent until a little Thai boy shouting his English alphabet all out of order, "J, K, L, W!" reminded us to laugh. I have to agree with him that the order is truly arbitrary, and I appreciate his English/life lesson. the quiet after destruction and then rebuilding and growth. laughter.
Little Ko Chang
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Just south of Myanmar/Burma lies the small island of Ko Chang, with few bungalows and mostly German travellers it is barely visited by the average backpacker and manages to retain a peaceful environment. This was the original location (prior to tsunami) that we had planned to hideout with just a typewriter and a bungalow. It is truly amazing that the island even survived as fishing villages not 30-km south were absolutely devastated. The island is, however, in need of tourism as they have had very few travellers in the past couple of months and many lost their boats.
Around Ranong (the port city near Ko Chang) most of the travellers we encountered were there to volunteer. Almost all of them arranged to help through an international organization and had paid in advance. Some felt that it was a culturally enriching experience, as many of these volunteers tend to stay with families, but complained that they didn't feel they did much (mostly watched Thai workers). They are of course helping create a supportive presense that doesn't just hit the billfold, but the most questionable aspect of these arrangements is the amount of money volunteers have paid to participate (it's A LOT).
Around Ranong (the port city near Ko Chang) most of the travellers we encountered were there to volunteer. Almost all of them arranged to help through an international organization and had paid in advance. Some felt that it was a culturally enriching experience, as many of these volunteers tend to stay with families, but complained that they didn't feel they did much (mostly watched Thai workers). They are of course helping create a supportive presense that doesn't just hit the billfold, but the most questionable aspect of these arrangements is the amount of money volunteers have paid to participate (it's A LOT).
(click to enlarge)
A friend who was with us on Mana Island in Fiji just sent me an e-mail with this photo attatched. This is of us playing duck-duck-goose with the school kids (notice Jenny is in the mush pot... ha ha!).
Meditation & Bat Poo
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After spending three nights in the busy city of Bangkok, we hopped a train west to the small town of Kanchanaburi where we have been sleeping in a floating hut, made of particle board, recycled from old shipping crates, and whose walls still bare a blue stamp from some distant Canadian city. Apart from the occasional elephant gun fired in celebration, or the ubiquitous motor boats pulling disco restaurants, the town has been a peaceful stop. We have spent much of our time perusing local food markets and sampling vegetarian cuisine, but only after some difficulty expressing, "I eat only vegetarian food," in Thai. Our reward: homemade tofu, fresh soymilk (yes, made by the vendor selling it), some incredible fruits, tom kha phak, and banana pancakes, just to name a few.
Two days ago we rented bikes and visited a temple built inside a cave. Illuminated by 60W bulbs and smelling of ammonia (bat pee) we were open to explore each labrynth, but our guide made sure that we each went in seperate directions for meditation. It was truly an amazing experience complimented by a friendly family who helped us to fix a flat (acquired by our Canadian friend) and showed us how to eat sour raw Tamarind.
We are now south along the Adaman coast (just south of Mayanmar/Burma) where apparently the only casualty from the tsunami involved an office desk. After a couple days on the island of Ko Chang we plan to head further south.
Two days ago we rented bikes and visited a temple built inside a cave. Illuminated by 60W bulbs and smelling of ammonia (bat pee) we were open to explore each labrynth, but our guide made sure that we each went in seperate directions for meditation. It was truly an amazing experience complimented by a friendly family who helped us to fix a flat (acquired by our Canadian friend) and showed us how to eat sour raw Tamarind.
We are now south along the Adaman coast (just south of Mayanmar/Burma) where apparently the only casualty from the tsunami involved an office desk. After a couple days on the island of Ko Chang we plan to head further south.
"Great City of angels, Repository of Divine Gems, Great Land Unconquerale, Grand and Prominent Realm, Royal and Delightful Capital City...
...Full of Nine Noble Gems, Highest Royal Dwelling and Grand Palace, Divine Shelter and Living Place of Reincarnated Spirits."
a.k.a, Bangkok-- but that's the short version (you should try saying it in Thai: "Krungthep mahanakhon amon ratanakosin mahintara ayuthaya mahadilok popnopparat ratchathani burirom udomratchaniwet mahsathan amonpiman avatansathit sakkathattiya witsanukamprasit").
Just under two weeks ago Jenny and I stood at the southern most tip of New Zealand's south island where we had stumbled capriciously, moving amongst other travelers who had planned picnics for the 59th degree latitude, and who probably knew in advance that they were taking themselves to the last bluff of land. Jenny threw a stone south, towards Antarctica, and I asked her if it made it. She said it did, so I'll just have to take her word for it.
Now, far away from Antarctica, but still traveling by impulse, we are in Bangkok, indefinitely, and are considering a trip south to the Adaman sea (west coast area hit by tsunami). Apparently there are still very few travellers in the area and while some villages work to rebuild what was lost others have almost fully recovered. We spoke to one traveller yesterday who informed us of some rebuilding efforts and an organization that is accepting volunteers, "Shovel in the mourning, swim in the afternoon."
Aside from a long name, Bangkok, (population= approximately 6 million) is buzzing both night and day, like static on a telivision set: mopeds and fly-by shirttails, incense and fresh jasmine flowers, unfiltered car pollution (visibility must be under a mile), smiles, & bed bugs. Its all kinetic (especially those bed bugs). We arrived two days ago and managed to find some very cheap accomadations in the old city (we pay about $2 a night). In fact everything here is "thuuk" (cheap)-- just to give an idea, one meal is generally under a dollar, coffee is 50 cents or less, and diesal shoes sold in the street are $10 (i'm not sure what these go for in the states, but i know its not 10 bucks).
Having never used squat toilets, these have perhaps taken the most getting used to. For those who have never had the opportunity, squat toilets are basically a porcelain hole in the floor with two foot places on either side. Next to the "toilet" there is a nice Thai bidet for washing the nether regions. The "bidet" consists of a bucket of water with a floating bowl for scooping water and then, well... i'm sure you get the idea. the left hand is reserved for such occasions and after using a squat toilet, one begins to understand why the feet are not sacred. When using a squat toilet, try not to pay too close attention to activities as urine flow is subject to ricochet and could quite possibly adulterate the all too sacred head.... uh.. so i've heard.
a.k.a, Bangkok-- but that's the short version (you should try saying it in Thai: "Krungthep mahanakhon amon ratanakosin mahintara ayuthaya mahadilok popnopparat ratchathani burirom udomratchaniwet mahsathan amonpiman avatansathit sakkathattiya witsanukamprasit").
Just under two weeks ago Jenny and I stood at the southern most tip of New Zealand's south island where we had stumbled capriciously, moving amongst other travelers who had planned picnics for the 59th degree latitude, and who probably knew in advance that they were taking themselves to the last bluff of land. Jenny threw a stone south, towards Antarctica, and I asked her if it made it. She said it did, so I'll just have to take her word for it.
Now, far away from Antarctica, but still traveling by impulse, we are in Bangkok, indefinitely, and are considering a trip south to the Adaman sea (west coast area hit by tsunami). Apparently there are still very few travellers in the area and while some villages work to rebuild what was lost others have almost fully recovered. We spoke to one traveller yesterday who informed us of some rebuilding efforts and an organization that is accepting volunteers, "Shovel in the mourning, swim in the afternoon."
Aside from a long name, Bangkok, (population= approximately 6 million) is buzzing both night and day, like static on a telivision set: mopeds and fly-by shirttails, incense and fresh jasmine flowers, unfiltered car pollution (visibility must be under a mile), smiles, & bed bugs. Its all kinetic (especially those bed bugs). We arrived two days ago and managed to find some very cheap accomadations in the old city (we pay about $2 a night). In fact everything here is "thuuk" (cheap)-- just to give an idea, one meal is generally under a dollar, coffee is 50 cents or less, and diesal shoes sold in the street are $10 (i'm not sure what these go for in the states, but i know its not 10 bucks).
Having never used squat toilets, these have perhaps taken the most getting used to. For those who have never had the opportunity, squat toilets are basically a porcelain hole in the floor with two foot places on either side. Next to the "toilet" there is a nice Thai bidet for washing the nether regions. The "bidet" consists of a bucket of water with a floating bowl for scooping water and then, well... i'm sure you get the idea. the left hand is reserved for such occasions and after using a squat toilet, one begins to understand why the feet are not sacred. When using a squat toilet, try not to pay too close attention to activities as urine flow is subject to ricochet and could quite possibly adulterate the all too sacred head.... uh.. so i've heard.
New Zealand "Benchmarks and Metrics"
Percent of nights not spent in hostels (i.e. tent, car, ferry): 75%
Percent of nights spent on treks: 20%
Percent of time spent on treks: 25%
Percent of Breakfasts that were Eggs Benedict: 10%*
Tomorrow we leave New Zealand and take a 13 hour flight to Bangkok, Thailand.
*All statistics quoted above were calculated, recorded, and rounded by Jenny. Any errors may therefore be attributed to her.
Percent of nights spent on treks: 20%
Percent of time spent on treks: 25%
Percent of Breakfasts that were Eggs Benedict: 10%*
Tomorrow we leave New Zealand and take a 13 hour flight to Bangkok, Thailand.
*All statistics quoted above were calculated, recorded, and rounded by Jenny. Any errors may therefore be attributed to her.
Able-Tasman
After taking care of logistics for the past couple of days, as well as hanging out in the lovely little city of Christchurch (quite comparable to Austin-- large arts scene, music, etc...) we are now in Picton (thanks to a free rental car return! yea!) and are planning on starting the Able-Tasman tomorrow. The Tasman is a beach hike and is considered one of the "Great Walks" of NZ (there are 10). We are considering either hiking or kayaking.
Here's a nice image of the Able-Tasman trek:
http://www.kiwizz.co.uk/images/album/21.jpg
Here's a nice image of the Able-Tasman trek:
http://www.kiwizz.co.uk/images/album/21.jpg
New Life Plan
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Pirates of the Fiordland! (nevermind that we don't have boats) Aargh!
Snow Berries, Thieving Foot Bridges, and 12,000 Year Old Water
All rivers desire the ocean and toil to achieve their final resting place, where fresh water and salt blend. And so it is possible that one day my Canon A85 Camera will wash out to ocean and witness the sigh of the Dart River.
...But really i like to believe that 1,002 years from now, in the year 3007, that some lone archaeologist or hiker will one day stumble on this ancient piece of the past, frozen in the mountainous regions surrounding the Dart, and with future technologies will be able to uncover the images from our journey-- we will be like ambassodors for the present!
Anyhow. I was walking across a foot bridge on the second day of our 5 day trek when suddenly my camera (including my credit card, pocket knife, and all my cash) was plucked from my waist (by a covetous swinging bridge rail) and flung into the raging Dart river, immediately disappearing over multiple waterfalls and level 6 rapids. It was a big loss, but there was really nothing to do but laugh and carry on. It is just so remarkable that one step could have such a large impact. And when one is so far from cities, ATM machines, etc... none of it even seemed important. Needless to say, I am not sure we will have anymore pictures to post and we are going to be extending our stay in NZ in order to wait on my credit card replacement.
The hike was incredible. Snow berries to munch on and fresh glacial water that didn't even require a filter. Mossy forests, waterfalls, mountain passes. The pictures wouldn't even have done it justice.
...But really i like to believe that 1,002 years from now, in the year 3007, that some lone archaeologist or hiker will one day stumble on this ancient piece of the past, frozen in the mountainous regions surrounding the Dart, and with future technologies will be able to uncover the images from our journey-- we will be like ambassodors for the present!
Anyhow. I was walking across a foot bridge on the second day of our 5 day trek when suddenly my camera (including my credit card, pocket knife, and all my cash) was plucked from my waist (by a covetous swinging bridge rail) and flung into the raging Dart river, immediately disappearing over multiple waterfalls and level 6 rapids. It was a big loss, but there was really nothing to do but laugh and carry on. It is just so remarkable that one step could have such a large impact. And when one is so far from cities, ATM machines, etc... none of it even seemed important. Needless to say, I am not sure we will have anymore pictures to post and we are going to be extending our stay in NZ in order to wait on my credit card replacement.
The hike was incredible. Snow berries to munch on and fresh glacial water that didn't even require a filter. Mossy forests, waterfalls, mountain passes. The pictures wouldn't even have done it justice.
New Zealand
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After hitchiking, busing, and even coming across a free rental car (thinking left, left, left side of the road) we have made it down to Queenstown on the south island and are heading out for a 4 day trek on the Dart-Rees trail-- through waist deep rivers, past a glacier, and over mountainous country that is very similar to Colorado (check-out pics). We have encountered some lovely individuals who have helped us out along the way (whether with rides or lost luggage, many thanks to all the friendly Israeli "families" and helpful Kiwis) and have enjoyed camping in gypsy-traveler campgrounds, sulphur cities, and overcrowded international bunks.
Valentine's Day
From Jenny's journal:
Fate, fortune and chance intertwine once again to form an unpredictable, unforgettable present.
PRESENT:
6:00 am
Bluebridge Ferry Terminal
Picton, NZ
Bagless, carless (where did our friends go?)...
It starts with a terrifying drive provided by Rod, the Canadian, as we whizz (all too closely) by cyclists and sheep on the road from Rotorua to Turangi. Then, a delicious bottle of juice, make that 2, and a hiking warning lead to an adventure on the side of the road, thumbs out and ready to go. Sweet Alan, a young Toyota mechanic, offers a ride in his company car and off we go.
Dropped off in Palmerston North, a fatal? wreck stalls the bus, which allows us to catch it a few minutes late and thus meet Heather, a young Kiwi traveller herself, on her way to a Tsunami Benefit Concert in the "wicked" city of Wellington.
Despues de un not-so-wicked concert, an e-mail tells of friends in close places, and 15 minutes later we meet our Canadian boys and Englishman. Watch a shoe flicking contest, play with a fountain and head off to catch the SAME 3:00 am ferry only to find we've locked our bags in a very secure, isolated train station locker.
"Help. Isn't there anyone here," we call into the dark...
When a bobby pin doesn't work, we head to the ferry to explain our mishap. Nice (we love you Kiwis!!!) ferry operator sends us right along on the ferry with promises of bags soon to follow. Yeah!! We can keep up with our friends. But wait, where did they go?
So, here we are, the present: Carless, bagless, watching the sunrise over the South Island. A fresh start? Maybe not. But, a rainbow across the sky, symbol of covenant, seems to promise more to come...some completely new combination of fate, fortune and chance that will design an unpredictable, unforgettable present.
From Laura's journal:
From pasty, dry peanutbutter sandwiches, to a warm rainbow greeting on the S. Island and a mistakenly simple arrival, sans-luggage. Odd how one moment spills into another, bleeding like chemicals on litmus paper with a rainbow of understanding in retrospect. Brief encounters with friends leave us laughing curiously at events and somehow all the wiser, having connected with some outside motion, divergent of our own, but strangely intersecting.
Now, outside cafe, sweet coffee, and a Valentine with calico eyes (Jenny). American Music.
Jenny and I laughing deliriously, at Jenny's shoe on my head last night, under the static of cicadas. The rose gardener hollers, "I want some of what you're having!" with a large friendly grin and Jenny says, "This is what its like to be homeless." Sitting under a tree in the park with no luggage.
CRACKLING,
POPPING,
FIZZING,
Cicadas.
Fate, fortune and chance intertwine once again to form an unpredictable, unforgettable present.
PRESENT:
6:00 am
Bluebridge Ferry Terminal
Picton, NZ
Bagless, carless (where did our friends go?)...
It starts with a terrifying drive provided by Rod, the Canadian, as we whizz (all too closely) by cyclists and sheep on the road from Rotorua to Turangi. Then, a delicious bottle of juice, make that 2, and a hiking warning lead to an adventure on the side of the road, thumbs out and ready to go. Sweet Alan, a young Toyota mechanic, offers a ride in his company car and off we go.
Dropped off in Palmerston North, a fatal? wreck stalls the bus, which allows us to catch it a few minutes late and thus meet Heather, a young Kiwi traveller herself, on her way to a Tsunami Benefit Concert in the "wicked" city of Wellington.
Despues de un not-so-wicked concert, an e-mail tells of friends in close places, and 15 minutes later we meet our Canadian boys and Englishman. Watch a shoe flicking contest, play with a fountain and head off to catch the SAME 3:00 am ferry only to find we've locked our bags in a very secure, isolated train station locker.
"Help. Isn't there anyone here," we call into the dark...
When a bobby pin doesn't work, we head to the ferry to explain our mishap. Nice (we love you Kiwis!!!) ferry operator sends us right along on the ferry with promises of bags soon to follow. Yeah!! We can keep up with our friends. But wait, where did they go?
So, here we are, the present: Carless, bagless, watching the sunrise over the South Island. A fresh start? Maybe not. But, a rainbow across the sky, symbol of covenant, seems to promise more to come...some completely new combination of fate, fortune and chance that will design an unpredictable, unforgettable present.
From Laura's journal:
From pasty, dry peanutbutter sandwiches, to a warm rainbow greeting on the S. Island and a mistakenly simple arrival, sans-luggage. Odd how one moment spills into another, bleeding like chemicals on litmus paper with a rainbow of understanding in retrospect. Brief encounters with friends leave us laughing curiously at events and somehow all the wiser, having connected with some outside motion, divergent of our own, but strangely intersecting.
Now, outside cafe, sweet coffee, and a Valentine with calico eyes (Jenny). American Music.
Jenny and I laughing deliriously, at Jenny's shoe on my head last night, under the static of cicadas. The rose gardener hollers, "I want some of what you're having!" with a large friendly grin and Jenny says, "This is what its like to be homeless." Sitting under a tree in the park with no luggage.
CRACKLING,
POPPING,
FIZZING,
Cicadas.
Fijian Highlands-- After a night at "Heaven's Edge," appropriately named, we hiked through jungle and open green fields to a secluded waterfall.
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Our friends. Etha and her cousin.
We were fortunate enough to get to visit the school on the island of Mana. During recess we taught the younger ones how to play "duck, duck, goose!" and "red light, green light" or "wawa, lago" (in Fijian).
Afterwards, of course, soccer on the schoolhouse pitch and then fresh mangos under the mango tree.
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Fiji, again. That Island that the sun is coming up over is the main Island, Viti Levu.
The Unforgettable "It"
Two days ago we had breakfast over the Pacific Ocean and landed in Auckland, Zew Zealand. In the afternoon, hungry, and more tolerant than usual, we settled for a foodcourt meal that I will never forget. Honestly, I blame my parents strict dinner rules that have sedated my ability to distinguish between good & spoiled food. (If we said we didn't like anything served we would have to eat that serving plus another). So I ate a salad roll that I have only recently allowed Jenny to discontinue the use of indirect pronouns when referencing "It".
yup, pretty sick for a solid 30 hours, but all is well now.
yup, pretty sick for a solid 30 hours, but all is well now.
Fiji
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Jenny and I were welcomed into the country with 4 nights on the Island of Mana (just west of Nadi), where all of our Fijian mamas, Mama Rachel, Mama Annie, and Mama Martha made sure we were well taken care of... hugs, kisses, blessings, etc. Most of Fiji presented the same sort of hospitality and welcomed visitors. As Skelley (spelling?), one Fijian gentleman, explained with pride, Fiji offers a new perspective and alternative lifestyle to the "woosh, woosh of your country." We were constantly reminded that when in Fiji, you are on "Fiji time."
Mama Annie
Here is a bit of history about one of our Fijian Mamas (as transcribed by Jenny):
Mama Annie is a mother of 4 children and a widow since March 17, 1997. Her youngest daughter married after her first suitor came to ask for her hand in marriage. Although at first hesistant, as she would have liked to have continued working to support her mother and younger brothers, Annie reminded her daughter of the Fijian custom that women should accept the first suitor "to come into the house." Annie also asked her what her deceased father would have wished. Remembering a conversation on March 12th, only 5 days before his death, Annie's daughter remembered his reiteration of the Fijian custom and that she should respect the wishes of her mother. Mama Annie, honoring the tradition, agreed to the marriage. Annie now lives with her daughter, son-in-law, their first born child and the unborn baby on-the-way. Annie works 3 weeks on Mana Island and then returns to the mainland for 3 days to be with her family. She sees her grandchildren, whom she loves very much, quite often. She makes 5o Fijian dollars per week.
Mama Annie is a mother of 4 children and a widow since March 17, 1997. Her youngest daughter married after her first suitor came to ask for her hand in marriage. Although at first hesistant, as she would have liked to have continued working to support her mother and younger brothers, Annie reminded her daughter of the Fijian custom that women should accept the first suitor "to come into the house." Annie also asked her what her deceased father would have wished. Remembering a conversation on March 12th, only 5 days before his death, Annie's daughter remembered his reiteration of the Fijian custom and that she should respect the wishes of her mother. Mama Annie, honoring the tradition, agreed to the marriage. Annie now lives with her daughter, son-in-law, their first born child and the unborn baby on-the-way. Annie works 3 weeks on Mana Island and then returns to the mainland for 3 days to be with her family. She sees her grandchildren, whom she loves very much, quite often. She makes 5o Fijian dollars per week.
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