China Day 10, 11: Tiger Leaping Gorge

Finally! Arrival at the Tiger Leaping Gorge. My whole reason for coming to China, because if I don't see it now, will I ever get the chance? In a matter of time, the Tiger Leaping Gorge may be no more -- the country has plans to build a dam which will flood more than 13,000 hectares of farmland and force between 100,000 and one million people (Naxis, mostly) out of their homes. The Tiger Leaping Gorge will be flooded and the amazing trek will cease to be anything more than a lake.

Tiger Leaping Gorge is one of those classic treks that any backpacker in China is pretty much obligated to do, but it's also a ton of fun. Guesthouses dot the trail and the hospitality is great -- green tea, Naxi sandwiches (YUM), welcoming hosts, friendly backpackers, and even apple pies for those who miss the delightful taste of mom's home cooking. (And the apple pies were pretty damn delicious.) And OH! the views! At one point the trail curved into a U-shape and you were sandwiched between two cliffs on either side, and with the view onto the other side of the gorge the effect was to really make your stomach turn (but in a fantastically good way). There was an illusion which made it seem like the two mountains on either side of the gorge were moving away from each other... it was very cool and very hypnotic. And you could feel the g-forces between the two massive mountains... maybe it was all in my head, but it was really, really cool.

The hike itself was said to be very strenuous, but after Kawa Karpo Tiger Leaping Gorge was a breeze. The only thing that killed me was my leg -- if we didn't take it pretty slow I probably would have fallen off the cliff and into the gorge. One part in particular -- "28 Bends," as they call it -- is the most difficult part. You twist and turn (yes, 28 times) up and up the mountain side until you reach the highest part of the trek at 2670 meters. We had spent the night at Naxi Family Guest House so we made it up to here pretty early in the morning.

Trek on, stop here and there for tea and apple pie, and to experience "Number One Toilet on Heaven and Earth," which, if it hadn't been so cloudy, would have given us an amazing view of YuLong Snow Mountain on the other side of the gorge as we did our business. We finally make it to Walnut Garden around 5:00 or so, throw down our bags, drink some happy tea and relax.

The beer flows, the food is good, and we talk and play cards with the other backpackers who have made it to the end of the trek. China is over, and my journey has come to its end.

Map of Meili Snow Mountain / Kawa Karpo Trek

Here's a map of the Kawa Karpo trek that we picked up at Kunming Youth Hostel. The times pretty accurate but of course it depends on how fast you hike, how long you stop for tea, how many photos you take, etc. We didn't have time to make it to the glacier or to the lake, unfortunately... I guess I'll just have to go back someday!

China Day 9: Lijiang

James and I awoke the next morning -- bright and early, as usual -- to catch the first bus back to Lijiang. We took a break at our favorite pit stop and got some more strawberries and seasoned potato kabobs. When we arrived in Lijiang we were instantly approached by a tall, thin woman of about 50 who showed us to a nice little hotel hidden in the maze of streets, where we threw down our bags for the night.

I took some time to explore Lijiang -- a serious maze of Naxi architecture and cobbled streets which will inevitably lead you to get lost. It took me 30 minutes just to find the hotel, and the whole town is probably less than a square mile in area. A UNESCO World Heritage site (for its architecture), Lijiang is FULL of Chinese tourists. I mean HORDES AND HORDES of Chinese tourists. I saw less than 10 white people the entire time I was there. Granted it was a holiday and many Chinese had a few days off, I don't doubt that on a typical day it's much less crowded.

The massive tour groups with their neon hats and the guide holding a flag takes away quite a bit of the charm of an old town, but Lijiang grows on you after a while. It certainly hasn't got the uniqueness of Dali or the serenity of Shangri-La, but it does have a quaint personality with lots of ancient influence. There are still tons of stores selling song bowls, prayer wheels, and typical Tibetan antiques and jewelery, but also several tea shops, artistry shops (and even a gallery or two), and, the most interesting, are several shops which carve personalized stamps -- square ones to use with red ink, as an artist's signature on a brush painting.

We stayed in Lijiang for one evening, and packed up the next morning to jump on a bus to Tiger Leaping Gorge...

China Day 8: Shangri-La

We woke up before sunrise and ate a nice breakfast cooked by our amazing host. We gave her some money in thanks and got right on our way. Though my legs were all itchy from the blanket I slept on the night before, I was very warm and comfortable in my bed, even though our host put out vests as pillows. Or jumpers, as those crazy Welsh call them.

It takes us a while to get to the final stop on the trek where we can hitch a ride back to DeQin. The trail wasn't very well marked and we ended up going the wrong way and had to climb through quite a bit of bushes, getting all scratched up before someone saw us from across the bend and told us how to get out. It took us maybe two hours to get to the last stop, even though we could see our final destination most of the time we were hiking. So we found someone to give us a ride back into town where we caught a bus back to Shangri-La. We didn't return in time to catch a bus back to Lijiang like we had hoped, but I'm quite glad. Shangri-La is a great place, and the lack of tourists makes it all the better. We found the Old Town, full of shops selling prayer wheels, song bowls, shawls, coyote hats, jewelery, and a multitude of handicrafts. We ate dinner at The Compass and talked with the owner, a Singaporean. The Old Town has got a square in the middle, a place for the locals to congregate for their nightly dance. Prayer flags draped from rooftops line the perimeter of square, and in the back of the town lay the largest prayer wheel in the world.

China Day 7: The Epic 14-Hour Trek

Up at the crack of dawn to get as far as we can today. Since we are off to a very late start we consider getting to the mountain pass, maybe even Shang YuBeng, the village in the valley, and then turning around and making it back to Shangri-La before the day is out. We can't decide so we figure we'll wait until we get there and see how we are doing on time.

The hike to the mountain pass is tough. It takes us maybe five hours to go from 2650 meters to 3800 meters, and it's a tiring climb. I think I got tired more from being out of shape than from the altitude. I can't imagine what this trek would have been like if I'd have brought my entire 35-lb backpack with me. I'd have died!

Our map indicates it takes four hours from the hot springs to the mountain pass. We take it pretty slow to enjoy the scenery, take a few photos, and stop for tea along the way. Somewhere I heard someone use the word cha for tea, so I ask the woman for cha and hope that it means green tea. Nope. Two cups of yak butter tea coming right up, and two cups of yak butter tea secretly poured out by two Westerners. And by the way, there were at least two if not three guest houses between the hot springs and the mountain pass. Either the people in XiDang just really wanted us to stay there or the Chinese girl mistranslated our question.

A couple of hours pass and we start seeing snow. It's early May so much of it has just begun to melt. I want to make a snowman but all the snow is brown.

We finally make it to the mountain pass and are welcomed by hordes of prayer flags hung from bushes and trees. We walk a little further and rhododendrons are everywhere now too. We're pretty tired and stop at a small shop for a cup of tea (green) for about 20 minutes. There's a great view of the mountains through the trees so we take a few photos as well.

Onwards to Shang YuBeng, about one hour away from where we stopped. We stop for a lunch of noodles, vegetables, and green tea. This isn't Tibet, but you sure wouldn't ever know it. The houses are all in the same Tibetan style, prayer flags are hung over bridges and fly from rooftops, and there is a line of prayer wheels. The people look a bit different than the Chinese -- their skin is darker and more golden, and their faces not quite as round but with more defined features. And they are all so welcoming.

After about an hours rest we decide to keep moving. It's nearly 1:00 by now and our map indicates about six hours to the next guesthouse in NiNong Village. We wander through the fields of Xia YuBeng, the village we ate lunch at, and the next few hours of our trek are along the Salween river, running wild with freshly melted snow from the moutaintops. This part of the trek is difficult -- it's steep and rather than a dirt path we are walking through rocks. It's not good on my legs and the fact that I have been wearing sandals, both flip flops and my Tevas, for the past month has irritated my knee. The trek is a bit tricky but we enjoy it and list of our Top Fives of just about everything before making it to the bridge across the river and stopping for a rest. We have been walking for about nine hours now and both James and I are pretty tired.

Rest for a while and take some photos on the bridge. Onwards we go, and the trek really gets scary. Suddenly we are walking along the edge of a cliff. To my left, a stream about one foot wide and a cliff wall going straight up, often hanging over the river and butting into the trail. To my right, only a few inches between where I place my feet and where the cliff ends, the 200 meter plummet into the Salween below begins. This is the Trail of Death. Nowhere in my travels but here did I ever fear for my life. One false step and I literally would have fallen to my death and would have been washed away by the Salween River. The trail was never more than a foot wide, and at some point there was no trail to speak of at all. A log was placed over a waterfall where the stream fell over the cliff; James took his chances and successfully maintained his balance for about six feet across waterfall. I, on the otherhand, despite the balanced I have developed from years of ballet training, decided that I wasn't going to take such chances with my life and I took of my socks and walked in the stream. And it was cold. As ice. Literally. I felt ice chunks in that stream. But cold feet is certainly better than being dead, yes?

We continued on the Trail of Death for about two hours, myself stopping and crouching down everytime the wind blew so hard it could have knocked me off. We rounded the mountain and were now walking along the Lang Cang River, part of the Mighty Mekong. We come to a village that offers grapes, but we see another less than an hour's walk away so we keep on truckin.

We arrive at the village and they've got no place for us to stay. They tell us to try the next one, about two hours away, so we keep on walking. It's dusk and we calculate our chances of getting stranded on the mountainside overnight. If we can't find a bed soon, it's not looking so good.

Finally, we come across a small village -- it looks as though only one or two families live here. Nobody is around so we wander through the buildings until we find someone. Once we do, they don't speak english (duh), so we play charades for a bit, putting our hands together and resting our heads on them to ask for a bed, and putting our hands towards our mouths with our fingers together to ask for food. They welcome us inside.

I had always wanted to do a homestay, particularly in Laos or Vietnam, but never had the time. Several backpackers had told me they were very touristed and set up more like an exhibit than anything. Most backpackers ate with the family, watched them work for a while, played with the children, and slept in a separate shelter built specifically for tourists. There were often mulitple tourists in the same homestay, sometimes up to 6 or 7. It didn't seem very personal and certainly not very real. But here James and I were, staying with a family, with no other backpackers for miles around. It was a real live homestay.

In the building we stayed in was only husband and wife, plus a cute little puppy and a few chickens that kept wandering into the huge kitchen. The floor was concrete and the ceilings were low. The woman asked us to wash our feet in another room before eating dinner -- I don't think this is customary, I think she was just being kind and assumed our feet were tired from all the walking. They then brought an extra bench from the kitchen into their bedroom so we could watch TV. Oh yea, and the woman was wearing a Volcom hat. Also, I was outside and tried to ask the man where the bathroom was. I had wandered around for a bit trying to find something but had no luck. The man just kinda pointed away from their house, towards the mountain...

China Day 6.5: Feilai Temple to XiDang Hotsprings

As we drive along a bumpy, unkempt road, over and around piles of rubble left over from the occasional landslide we are GIVEN an amazing view of Meili Snow Mountain. The Chinese girl driving with us asks our driver to stop for a few minutes to enjoy the view and to take some photos. We have arrived at Feilai Temple.


Kawa Karpo is one of the eight holiest mountains in Tibetan Buddhism, and each year many Tibetans circumambulate the mountain; that is, they make a holy pilgrimmage. (Circumambulation has certain rules to follow -- sometimes this includes walking only in the clockwise direction, sometimes this means crawling on one's stomach.) Because Tibetan believe the mountain is home to a god, no one has ever summited it.

We have maybe an hour or so until we reach the first village on the trek, XiDang. After paying the entrance fee to the park, part of UNESCO's Three Parallel Rivers of Yunnan Protected Area where the Mekong, Salween, and Yangtze Rivers all run parallel, and after the Chinese guy in the minibus with us hides under all of our bags in the backseat so he doesn't have to pay the 60 yuan entrance fee, we finally arive at the hot springs. We ask the locals, with the help of the Chinese girl who has now become our translator, if there is anywhere to stay before we get to Shang YuBeng, the village in the valley. They tell us no, and since it's already 4:00 we have no time to make it there before dark. We throw our bags into a room and have no choice but to crash there for the night.

After a meal of noodles, vegetables, and some not-so-delicious egg soup, we think it'd be fun to take a hike to the hot springs and chill out for a while. I had been expecting a couple of pools somewhere nearby, but when the Chinese girl showed us where they were, I must admit that I was disappointed. Really disappointed. The hot springs were sort of like a bathtub -- just a concrete basin with a faucet that tapped into the hot water in the ground. The basins were housed in what looked like a bathroom. Getting your feet wet is really the extent of what you could do here, no swimming in a warm refreshing pool.

There wasn't much to do but lounge and practice our Tai Chi for a while. It was getting pretty dark and I decided I should probably use the outhouse before I couldn't see anything at all and risked stepping down the narrow slit in the ground where you did your business. As I walked across the dirt courtyard, flashlight in hand, I suddenly heard a loud grunt and stopped dead in my tracks. What. The Hell. Was That. Shine my flashlight around and find a big black pig lurking by the trees. I brush it off and keep walking but the pig keeps on grunting, and with every step I take towards the outhouse she takes one step towards me. If I make a run for it she'll probably start running after me, plus it's getting dark and me being clumsy as I am would probably trip over something. I try talking to her and telling her that I don't want to eat her, that I don't really like pork and would rather eat chicken, though not chicken from China because of what I read on CNN, and that I just really needed to use the bathroom before it got pitch dark. She didn't really understand but I managed to inch my way to the outhouse. The same story on the way back.

So James and I sat up for a while looking at the stars. Never have I seen the starts twinkle so brightly as I did that night on Kawa Karpo. Maybe because there wasn't a light for miles and miles around, maybe because there weren't any factories polluting the air within a hundred mile radius at least, or maybe being 2650 meters closer to the stars just makes them that much brighter. Whatever it was, I loved it. It felt like Shangri-La.

China Day 6.0: Shangri-La to DeQin

Up and at 'em early in the morning and pack all our things into James' backpack and my daypack, leaving the rest at the hotel until we return the next day. Grab a good seat on the bus and pull out our books and iPods to entertain us for the ride. I'm reading The Seven Spiritual Laws of Yoga by Deepak Chopra and James has got Nick Hornby's High Fidelity. The bus ride is a bus ride for a while, but a beautiful bus ride. I think I've said this before but sometimes bus rides can be my favorite part of traveling, simply for the scenery. And this scenery is absolutely gorgeous. There are hills and mountains everywhere and a mix of earthy browns and greens.

We make a 30 minute pit stop and hang our legs off a ledge where a woman is tending to a small garden below while we take in the scenery in front of us. We meet some Canadians and talk for a bit. Wander around the area and find some goats along the side of the road, or maybe yak, I can't remember. James befriends one of them.

We hop back on the bus and are in for quite a ride. The road twists and turns and the mountains get higher and higher, the snow more abundant. Pretty soon we're high enough where there's a considerable amount of snow below us as well. Quite a few times I fear for my life as the bus rides so closely to the edge of the road, and it feels as if any second we will plummet into the valley below. Taking this on a motorbike would be dangerous, but truly amazing.

A full six hours after leaving Shangri-La we arrive at the bus stop in DeQin. It is now 1:00 and we had expected to be at the first village on our trek by now. Things aren't looking good as this trek will now take us three days or more rather than the two we had planned.

We look for a taxi or minibus to take us to the village, another two hours from DeQin. We meet a German couple on the bus who we offer a taxi share with, but they have decided to stay in DeQin and do a few other treks. We luck out once again and find a teeny Chinese couple on holiday who are also looking to go to Kawa Karpo, and the girl speaks pretty good English. She finds us a minibus that can leave around 2:00 for a decent price of 120 yuan, split between the four of us. (James and I planned to spend 140 yuan between two.) We jump in and are off to the mountains.

China Day 5: Dali to Shangri-La

Wake up in the morning for an 8:00 Tai Chi lesson on the North Gate. The juxtaposition of James against our instructor is hilarious; James is a guy of about 6" from Wales and our instructor barely makes 5". It would have made a great photo, too bad I was in my "I take too many pictures and feel too much like a tourist" phase. Our lesson lasted a full two hours and we learned a sequence of movements, stopping for many and learning how they are used for self-defense. The movements themselves are very fluid and slow moving, but they are to be done with resistance to strengthen and train the muscles in the proper way to move when defending oneself. In the actual defense situation, the moves are to be executed with force, of course.

10:00 rolls around and the UK boys show up for their Kung Fu lesson. James and I head back to the hostel to pick up our backpacks and make a quick run to the bus stop which leaves at 11:00 I think. Hop on the bus and enjoy a lengthy bus ride to Shangri-La, passing the Tiger Leaping Gorge on the way and myself thinking if I really want to be missing out on such a great thing.

We arrive in Shangri-La and have absolutely no idea where we are or what we are doing. We have no clue where Kawa Karpo is, how far it takes us to get there, or even what bus to take. We don't even know where the center of Shangri-La is, or where the travelers hang out, or what there is to do there. After about five minutes all I know is that there are a ton of little green cars that only have three wheels.

A man who seems very nice and sincere says he's got a place for us to stay, and seeing as we really don't know where else to go, or how to ask anyone since nobody speaks English, we follow him to a nice little hotel about 30 seconds from the bus station. Our room has a great view. We take a walk around the city to find a place to use the internet, and all the while I'm wondering if we are actually in the right place. I thought Shangri-La was supposed to be this magical place described in James Hilton's novel The Lost Horizon? I thought it was considered the "Entrance to Tibet?" This doesn't seem magical at all, and I don't see any sign of Tibet anywhere except for shop signs that are in Tibetan (and very poorly translated English). It's just a big city, albeit one with pool tables in every other shop and people playing on the sidewalks.

As we walk we discuss renting a motorbike and just hitting the road to Kawa Karpo on our own. Sounds like tons of fun, but we don't know where we are going, plus there's no motorbike rental anywhere. We find a place that looks promising for internet, though. Its got rows and rows of fancy computers with huge flatscreen monitors and shiny red tabletops that are all sparkly. There are headsets at every computer. A man walks up to us and pours James a beer and gives me a glass of water. And then I realize... this is a gaming place. Oh boy. But internet is internet and for once we have nice computers with a fast connection. So we gather all the information we can on the trek, which isn't much, and then head back to the hotel and make a stop at the bus staion to get tickets for the first bus in the morning. We luck out and meet a Chinese woman who speaks pretty good English who just did the trek and tells us how to get there. We buy two bus tickets to DeQin, which we are told is about four hours away, and Kawa Karpo is another two on top of that. We expect to get started on our trek by 1:00 and make it halfway before dark, then finish up the following day and make it back to Lijiang that night and have quite a bit of time at the Tiger Leaping Gorge.

Back to the hotel and watch our favorite Scottish weathergirl on CCTV before hitting the lights for the night.

China Day 4: Bumming Around Dali

Get a good night's sleep before Day 4 begins. Not much happens today and I spend the majority of the morning hunting down "Jimmy," a local guy that takes people into the mountains for a one- to three-day yoga and trekking retreat, exactly what I had been looking for. I never found Jimmy, unfortunately. Today I had hoped to hike up one of the western mountains but somehow never got to it; I'm not really sure why because I really don't remember hardly anything happening today. I wandered around town some more and did some window-shopping, although there aren't really any windows, so I just looked and didn't buy anything. Well, I did buy this little pouch that will come in handy, and it seemed the perfect souvenir from a town such as Dali. I also saw some coins and thought of buying one for myself and one for James, because of course we would need them before we parted ways, but I knew that he would see the same thing and buy them, and what do we need two coins for?

So Day 4 was pretty uneventful and I later told James that I was planning to head to Lijiang tomorrow. I was ready for the Tiger Leaping Gorge. James had picked up a brochure with a map of the Tiger Leaping Gorge trail and also a Kawa Karpo trail map, which I had never heard of before but which sounded interesting. We'd have to head straight to Shangri-La to get there which is about twice as far as Lijiang, I think eight hours or so. I was apprehensive of it for quite a while because I knew going there would mean my days at the Tiger Leaping Gorge would be cut short -- that is if everything at Kawa Karpo went according to schedule. But I gave in and we bought tickets to Shangri-La for about $9 or $10.

That night we decided to have a wild night out for our last in Dali, or about as wild as it can get in Dali, which isn't really wild at all. We went to the Bad Monkey again and met some guys from the UK who I think were studying Chinese somewhere, I can't remember exactly. After a few Tsingtaos at the Bad Monkey we headed down the street to the Sun Island Cafe, a real nice bar/restaurant/guest house that we had dinner at the night before. There was a group of people jamming on a bunch of drums and we hoped to find a similar vibe there tonight. Unfortunately the vibe had been there earlier, but the police came because of the noise and broke it up. We stayed for a drink anyways. A few minutes later this Asian Hippie guy walks in, or stumbles rather, from the back of the building. He's got real long hair and is wearing jeans and a plain white tee. He's mumbling all this stuff in Mandarin that nobody can understand. He finds a drum on the floor and picks it up, trying to clip it to his pants but having an infintely difficult time doing so. It takes him quite a while to finally get it attached and when he does he trys to bang on it but doesn't really produce any good sound, just lots of clatter and more mumbling which has now developed into a sort of singing. He stumbles out onto the street and even though the door is closed we can still hear him banging on the drum and singing, until it gets quiet for a while, and then suddenly he stumbles in the door and everything happens all over again. Great people in Dali.

China Itinerary

So where exactly are all these places? Well thanks to Google Maps it's all nicely laid out in this custom-made map below. Just click on the markers to tell you what is where. On May 3rd I crossed from Vietnam into the city of Hekou and immediately jumped on a bus to Kunming, the capital of the Yunnan province. From there I spent three days in Dali, and if you zoom in close enough you can see the long skinny ear-shaped (if you've got such a creative mind) Erhai Lake. James and I took off to Shangri-La in the northwestern corner, which is labeled Zhongdian on the map. (The name was changed thanks to author James Hilton, but more on than later.) From Zhongdian we took a six-hour bus ride to the town of DeQin where we immediately left for Kawa Karpo, the westernmost marker on the border between Yunnan and Tibet. Two nights in the mountains and on our way to Lijiang, but not without spending a night in Shangri-La first. Lijiang is sort of in the middle of the other markers, and just north of the Lijiang marker is the Tiger Leaping Gorge. Zoom in close enough and you can see the Yangtze make it's U-turn and you'll also be able to notice the massive gorge it's created. From Tiger Leaping Gorge we made a quick stop in Lijiang to pick up our things and then caught a bus to Kunming, from where I flew to Beijing and then back to the states.


View Larger Map

Here's a pretty good photo of Kawa Karpo on a clearer day. Legend has it that if you see the sunrise (or sunset, I can't remember) over this mountain, you will lead a happy life. I didn't see either, but I think from what I've seen I'll be leading a pretty happy life.

China Day 3: The Epic Erhai Lu Bike Ride

After four days of doing almost nothing but sitting and laying (sitting on a big boat for two days in Halong Bay, taking a three hour minibus back to Hanoi, taking an overnight train to the border, sitting in a a nine hour bus ride to Kunming, taking a four hour bus to Dali) I am itching to get up and be active. I take a few hours in the morning to explore the streets of Dali, which is a very chilled out and quaint town. To the west are mountains, which I planned to hike up later on, and to the east a few smaller mountains and Erhai Lu, or Erhai Lake, so-called because it's shaped like an ear. There are plenty of locals that approach you on the street trying to sell you some fancy looking hair clip or a chairlift up the mountain or even asking "You Smoke?" and the fact that they are discretely doing so while in their ethnic dress somehow makes it all the more amusing. One local that I welcome an approach from is a short, very small man who asks if I am interested in learning Tai Chi or Kung Fu. I had seen advertisements for this on some cafes around town and thought Tai Chi might be fun, so I talked to him for a bit and decided to take a lesson before I left Dali. I also found a very cheap plane ticket from Kunming to Beijing, at about $125 with tax and everything -- 70% off the original price. I bought the ticket for the morning of the 13th, planning to spend that afternoon in Beijing and the next at the Great Wall before heading out on the 15th. I wandered around a bit more before meeting up with James back at the hostel.

The two of us rented some bikes and took off towards Erhai Lake, hoping to catch a ferry across and maybe hike up the mountain on the other side. The ferry was going to cost us 70 yuan each, or $10, which was outrageous! We tried to bargain but they wouldn't budge, so we took off on our bikes due north in search of another jetty. It was a great bike ride -- we rode through village after village and were surrounded by locals hard at work in the rice fields. No conical hats here, like in Vietnam, but straw hats nonetheless. We had been riding for about three hours but had stopped quite a few times in villages and meandered around them a bit, taking our chances at finding a path to the lake and hopefully a jetty. After flipping quite a few virtual coins as to where we would ride next we still hadn't seen any sign of another jetty. We found a path that took us directly to the lake so we could look across and sure enough, there wasn't anything in sight. Perhaps around those trees to the north? It's now 6:00 and we've got about two and a half hours left until dark. Our best bet is to turn around and make it back to Dali in a flat two hours, but where's the fun in that? How about a toss of the coin to decide for us. Or screw the coin and just keep riding. So we continued onward.

We press on for another hour or so and finally come around to the other side of the lake. We ride down a bumpy and very wet dirt road where everyone looks us at us with quizzical faces, and I just return a smile. James suggests a shortcut and we ride on a thin footpath directly through a field where workers are harvesting their crops and dumping them into their baskets which they strap to their backs. The footpath is very bumpy, meandering, and quite steep at times and though it's a shorter distance than the road it's not so much shorter on time, but it's a great ride and the fact that it wasn't much shorter doesn't matter at all.

Keep truckin' down the road, by now it's paved, and the sun is starting to set and we have no idea how we're going to get home. As dusk arrives we start thinking about hitching a ride from someone back into town but don't see many prospects. With about twenty minutes before dark we stop someone on the road, who, after spending a few minutes playing charades, communicates to us that he'll charge us 150 yuan to take us back to Dali. 150 yuan!! We are obviously getting ripped off so we say no thanks and head down to a village to search for another person to ask. This time same thing, 150 yuan. James and I consider staying overnight in the village, but for some reason I decide I'd rather make it back to Dali tonight so we finally bargain them down to 120. Still a rather steep price considering we can see Dali from where we are standing and it's not too far at all.

Wait for the guy to call his friend with a van big enough to hold our bikes and they give us each a bottle of water and offer us a seat. Jump in the van and off we go. James sits up front and I doze off periodically in the back. It's a long ride back to Dali and takes us about an hour. James keeps track of the odometer which indicates a 45km (28 miles) drive back into town. We calculate all the meandering through the villages and whatnot and figure we rode somewhere between 50 and 60km that day. We are beat, and we go to sleep in the campsite.

China Day 2: Kunming to Dali

Day 1: Border crossing, 9-hr (maybe?) bus ride from Hekou to Kunming. Night in a four-bedroom (two bunks) room at an International Youth Hostel.

Day 2 (4 May 08): Spend the morning lounging in the hostel, catch a 1:00 bus to Dali. Hubert, one of the travelers I met on the bus, explores Kunming for a few hours before catching a 40-hr train to Shanghai on his way to Mongolia. I give James my email and tell him to contact me when he gets to Dali, since he mentioned staying in Kunming for a while as well, but then he decides to jump on the bus with me. So I've ended up with a travel partner -- at least for this bus ride.

We have a nice little bus ride, I think about four hours, and get to Xiaguan, the city nearest Dali Old Town. We try to bargain with a cab driver to give us a cheaper ride to the Old Town but end up taking a bus instead. The bus cost us about 2 yuan each, compared to 40 split between four (we found two other girls to share with) and 7 yuan is US$1, so you do the math. After about 30 minutes of standing on a crowded city bus, all the while my 30-lb backpack strapped on, we finally make it to Dali Old Town and it starts to rain. We wander around for longer than expected trying to find a hostel to stay at and end up near the East Gate at a lovely little place called Hostel #7 or something like that. Free internet and free laundry sounds like a deal so we throw our bags down for the night. We go the cheap route, as always, and pay 20 yuan for a dorm bed... errr I mean a tent. Our room has a total of six tents and the walls are painted with trees. There's even a big rope-light star on the ceiling, very fun.

Downstairs to throw in some laundry and I see James talking to an older man of about 70 or 80, I can't quite remember. His name is Arnold and he talks quite a bit, but has some interesting things to say. He's originally from the States but has lived in Europe for quite some time; we invite him to grab a bite to eat with us. The three of us walk up the street, Arnold being pretty quick on his feet and me, exhausted as I am, having quite a time just keeping in step with the two. We stop at a place just up the street with loads of veggies and even some seafood, pick out a couple of things, and they cook them all up real good and before we know it we've got too much food to eat. Complimented with green tea, of course, of which I drink probably five cups, and Arnold only drinks one because otherwise he'll be up all night. Arnold tells us his stories of which I presently can't recall but which James can inform me of later because I know he remembers many of them because they were absolutely amazing. Arnold is a legend in his own time.

Finish up our dinner and James being the social butterfly he is suggests we check out Dali's nightlife. There's not a whole lot to it, especially since it was a bit wet outside, but we hop inside an empty cafe for a drink. I order a Kahlua and coffee and Arnold gets some tea. He won't mind being up a little bit later. It's very chilly outside so we grab an upstairs table where the windows are closed. I'm informed by James that the bathroom has a sign reading "No Shitting" or something to that extent. Finish with our drinks and head to another place down the street, Bad Monkey.

Real nice crowd there and even some Johnny Cash being played by a guy on a guitar. Smells like grass inside. Probably the liveliest place in Dali but still very chill, thanks to the amazingly comfortable furniture and pillows they've got. Drink a few Dali beers, Arnold goes back to the campsite, and James and I hang out for a while longer, finish our beer, and head back for the night. All in all a relaxing evening in Dali. Excited to explore a bit tomorrow.

Home Sweet Home

Well it's been about six weeks since I arrived back in the states and sooooo much has happened between Kunming and my arrival home. My life is now back to the routine of school-work-study and unfortunately all traveling is finished for now. For how long, I can't say exactly, but you just wait... five or six years from now and I will be on my way to India, Nepal, and Tibet!

I've got most of my "Best of" photos uploaded to my smugmug so keep yourself busy browsing through those (the photos of Yunnan are AMAZING, I can assure you) until I get around to finishing up the Kunming > Dali > Shangri-La > Kawa Karpo > Lijiang > flight home. A LOT happened, trust me, so it will take me a while.

Best of Vietnam
Best of Yunnan
Best of the Epic Kawa Karpo Trek (seriously, look at this one--gorgeous!!)

Brrr!!!!

It is 9:15am in Kunming, China, and it is cold!!! I woke up and put on my jeans and a tank top, then proceeded to get my sweatshirt about 20 minutes later. Kunming is at an altitude of 1890m so it's no surprise that it's a bit chilly. Compare that to Madison at 264m. And the thing is, unless the sun comes out this is as warm as it's going to get for me in China -- Dali, Lijiang, and Zhongdian all get higher and higer up as I make my way in the direction of the Tibetan Plateau. (I'm not actually going into Tibet...just near it.)

And of course I wouldn't even be able to get into Tibet if I tried. Or if I wanted to. I had a hell of a time just getting into China. I had heard reports of Americans being throughly searched at immigration and I expected a bit of a hassle, both on the Vietnam side and the China side. Vietnam was a breeze. Sure, it took him about 10 minutes to look over my passport while dozens of Vietnamese walked on by without a single glance, but I made it through with no questions asked. Once I crossed the bridge to the Chinese immigration point, however, I was stopped completely. They searched my bag and found a book by the Dalai Lama, "The Universe in a Single Atom: The Convergence of Science and Spirituality" I think it was called. Of course they confiscated it. I was finished reading it, so I didn't mind too much, but it's a shame that such a forward-thinking book will now be forever locked up or burned or whatever they decide to do with it. So in addition to that, they were skeptical of my Sex and the City DVD I bought in Hanoi, probably because it said "sex" and they thought it was pornography. They also confiscate Lonely Planet China guidebooks because the map shows Taiwan as a different color than the rest of China. Luckily mine didn't have Taiwan on the map, since it is for the Mekong region, but about five officers still combed through the entire book. I had copies of the Beijing sections of the LP China guide that they combed through. They made me take out every article of clothing in my bag. They paged through my notebooks. They opened every single pocket of my backpack and shuffled through it. They asked me question after question about my hard drive, then took it away for about 10 minutes to plug it in and browse through every file on it. (I'm just hoping they didn't accidentally delete any of the 35GB of music or 3,000+ photos I have on there.) This all took only about 45 minutes, but it was about 10:40 when they finished and I had a 10:50 bus to catch. And I didn't really know where the bus station was.

But luckily I made it to the bus station with about two minutes to spare. I met two other travellers and we are all staying at a hostel in Kunming. I'm hoping to jump on a train to Dali this afternoon and spend a few days there. Until then I'll probably just wander the street of Kunming for a bit.

Happy Liberation Day?

This morning I arrived in Hanoi and am staying in the Old Quarter, a very nostalgic part of the city that makes you feel like you're in the middle of some late 1800's novel. It's not terribly different than Saigon, but the streets are a bit smaller, the buildings have fewer stories, and trees outline the streets. It's very charming.

People here are also incredibly nice. Not much more of a reaction when I tell them I am American than a smile and a nod, but really, what do I expect?

This morning I made my way to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum complex. I had to send my bag through a security check and then leave it at a desk before entering the building. The line was absolutely massive -- it stretched probably 200m out the door. But today is Liberation Day and everyone has the day off work. The wait was only about 10 minutes, though, because all you do is walk in and walk out. Well, there are guards at every corner that direct you through a cool and dimly lit hallway, up a cool and dimly lit staircase, and around a cool and dimly lit corner into the room where the remains of Ho Chi Minh himself rest (contrary to his death wishes, I might add). Children are escorted to the front where there is a ramp about 6in high so they can see. Everyone else is filed into two lines by the guards and again, there are guards at every corner of the room, pulling you by your arm if you fall behind. And yes I fell behind. Ho Chi Minh is just laying inside this case and is incredibly well-preserved; if I didn't know any better I'd have thought he was just sleeping. Anyways you enter through the back and walk along three sides of the glass case where he rests, don't stop for a second because there are probably 8 guards surrounding the case and the room, then just walk right on out. It was a bit strange, I think.

But now the even stranger part. Or akward, maybe. I paid 10000 dong (16000 dong is US$1) to go to the museum which I think talks about Ho Chi Minh's path from a poor Vietnamese living in France to the hero that he was to the country, along with some other stuff, but I can't really be sure because I didn't get to see any of it. After putting my bag through yet another security check and leaving it at the front door I walked up the stairs and started on my way through an exhibit. And not five minutes after walking through the museum doors this little old Vietnamese woman and her thirty-something year old daughter grab me by the hand and start smiling at me all cute-like. The daughter made some sort of gesture like they wanted a picture or something, so I chuckled a bit and agreed. And the woman continued to hold my hand and guide me through the museum, where I thought we were going to find one of their friends or family members with a camera. Oh no. It was just the two of them, and they didn't have a camera, and neither did I because I left my bag at the door, so the old woman just kept holding me by the hand, smiling at me, patting me on the back and stopping to put her arm around me every now and then, until we finally got outside the museum where there were some photographers. So we finally found one and took a photo of me and the old lady in front of the museum. But one wasn't enough. We had to have one in front of some other building. So we got one there, this time with me and the old lady hugging each other. And then she still wanted another, this time in front of the one-tiered pagoda. So the photographer told me to put my hands on the old ladys shoulders and she snapped one last photo. And the photographer wrote out a ticket for the old lady, and I waited for her to write me a ticket too so I could pick up my photo (because obviously I HAD to have one) when I was finished seeing everything I wanted to see.

But no, there was only one ticket. And the old lady took me by the hand again and we sat down at a bench with her daughter and some other old lady to wait for our photos to be ready. I don't speak vietnamese. And they don't speak a word of english. So we just kind of sat there, and they would be talking to each other about me and looking and smiling at me, and every once in a while the old lady would compare the size of our legs or arms or hands or skin tone or something. And the daughter pointed out some overweight caucasians to me. And then the old lady put her arms around my waist for a while. I think they asked me to sing, so I started singing Jingle Bells because that's one of the tunes the ice cream cyclo plays. Aaaand it was really akward, and really hilarious.

So after about 15 minutes of sitting, waiting, singing, and being really confused, we finally got our photos. The old lady kept two and I have the one of us in front of the pagoda. There's a nice little border on the photo with some vietnamese text that probably says "Happy Liberation Day 2008" or something. This is one that will definitely have to go in the album.

An American Girl in Vietnam

Thus far everyone in Vietnam has been incredibly friendly, even more so than in Thailand. Maybe it's because I'm traveling alone, maybe it's because I'm female, or maybe they are just very good-natured at heart. So far I've only traveled in the south: Saigon, Na Trang, Hoi An, and now Hue. Every time I told a local that I was an American they would get a big smile on their face and start talking about how their cousin or sister was living in Colorado or California or somewhere. I got a cylco ride back to my hotel in Na Trang and talked to the guy about the war a bit. He pointed out the signs to me for the Liberation Day celebrations coming up: 30 April, the day Saigon fell to the Viet Cong. He said people understand that the American people were against the war, and really the government was to blame, so Vietnamese people don't have hostility towards Americans. At least in the south.

Today in Hoi An I spoke with another Vietnamese man. He agreed that people in the south are very friendly towards Americans and have good relations with them, but in the north it may be a bit different. He said people will be nice, but suggested that I tell people I am from Sweden. I think he was only half joking.

In Hue I can already see it happening a bit, even though Hue is still considered to be part of the south -- the DMZ is about 100 km north of here. I told my moto driver that I was American and there was just a short pause...then a change of subject. And the girl at the front desk of the hotel just smiled and nodded when I said I was American. But they are all still very nice and friendly to me and I don't sense any hostility. Maybe it's all in my head.

Anyways, tomorrow evening I leave for Hanoi. I arrive Wednesday morning -- Liberation Day. I'm excited to see what kinds of festivites will be going on. I'm also curious as to what reaction Vietnamese will have if I tell them I am American. I'm guessing their reaction would be a lot different if we hadn't lost the war. I will just do as I have been doing, and leave a discussion of the war up to them. If they bring it up, I'll talk about it, if they don't, then I'll keep quiet.

One thing I was quite surprised about is the War Remnants museum in Saigon. I had read somewhere that the war was described as the "Civil war with American support," but I have not seen that anywhere thus far, it's all been the "American war." And this museum made the Americans look like absolute barbarians. I was almost ashamed to call myself an American while in there. But now I'm getting kicked off the internet so you can read about it on Wikipedia.

333 = Gross

Remember what I said about the beer? Yea, I take it back. Friday night I had a Saigon Red, poured into a mug from a bottle. Saturday night I had a 333, which has EXACTLY the same logo, except instead of saying "Saigon" it says "333." I drank it from a can with more pho. And it was grooooooss. Really, really, bad. Like Mountain Creek bad. Sick.

Gooood Morninggggg Vietnam!!

I LOVE Vietnam!! The people, the streets, the food, the sounds, the buildings ... OK so I've only been here for eight hours but so far it is fantastic! Maybe it's just the euphoria of embarking upon another journey through Southeast Asia but I love where I am right now.

I started the day with Luca and Ami. We went to an amusement park called Dam Sen where we saw statues made of porcelain dinnerware, a ton of crocodiles, a field full of hungry deer and goats, an ice sculpture building decorated with Christmas spirit, and a haunted castle, to name a few. It was, er, amusing, to say the least. It was actually quite fun and a good way to spend our evening since all the museums and temples were closed by the time we got settled.

But now Luca and Ami have met up with the others in Mui Ne and I have decided to stay in Ho Chi Minh City. Saigon, as the locals still call it. I got lost trying to find the so-called "backpacker ghetto" but after about a 30 minute sweaty walk through the humid streets filled to the max with mopeds, and sporting my 35lb backpack, I finally found it. And I really like where I am staying. I have my own bathroom on the 5th floor, mine is the only room on the top level, and there is a nice patio overlooking the street below. The desk staff are very friendly and helpful.

For dinner I ate at a place called Hao Mai, partly because it's right across the street from me and partly because some British kid was touting the place in somewhat of an exchange for some free beer. It was all in good fun. I got a bowl of pho, (pronounced "fhurh," or something to that extent,) what seems to be one of, if not THE, staple dishes of Vietnam. It's noodles with lettuce (or cabbage as the British kid said, "for simplicity"), soup, and some chicken, beef, pork, or meat of some kind. I had shrimp. And a Saigon Beer Red. It was pretty tasty! But I realized I think all beer is tasty around here, and I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that every time I get one I'm so dehydrated or that I have just grown to really like beer. A lot. Whatever it is, I'm going with it, cause it's delicious.

The Voyage Home

Four months of living in Singapore has finally come to an end. So much has happened in these past four months that I never would have imagined, and I've met so many great people! I'm truly thankful for this experience and don't think I could have chosen a better place to study. Well, ok I didn't really pay much attention to school, and theres a few things I don't like about Singapore, but the region I am in is absolutely amazing. I love Southeast Asia!! The culture here is so incredibly diverse and ecelectic and the scenery is nothing short of breathtaking. I have been to many places and seen many things in this short amount of time but still feel like I'm barely scratching the surface. I know I will be back to Southeast Asia someday to explore it like it should be!!

So now I am at the airport in Singapore waiting for a flight to Ho Chi Minh City. From there I will head north through Hoi An, Hue, Hanoi, Halong Bay, and then I am planning to enter China overland from Lao Cai. Schedules and such didn't work out with my friends, unfortunately, so I decided to make the journey solo, which I am at once excited and a teeny bit nervous for. Once I enter China I'll take a bus to Kunming, then travel northwest through Dali, Lijiang, the Tiger Leaping Gorge, and Zhongdian. That's the plan, at least -- this part of China (the Yunnan province) borders Tibet and Zhongdian is pretty much the last stop before getting there. So far I haven't heard of any travel issues but you never know what could happen.

Lo and Behold, Ami and Luca just showed up at the airport, so I will have some travel buddies to hang out with for the first few days. Awesome!!

Now We See the Safari

An excerpt from a recent NY Times article:

“There is nothing really outstanding in Luang Prabang,” said Laurent A. Rampon, the former chief architect and director of the cultural preservation office here.

“When you look at the architecture, it is interesting but normal, very normal; the temples are a little bit rough, not refined,” said Mr. Rampon, who is now an independent architect and consultant to the city.

“What is really interesting in Luang Prabang is all that together,” he said. “It is the ambience of the city, the daily life, the temples and the monks. In Luang Prabang, when the ambience is gone, it will not be Luang Prabang any more.”

Luang Prabang was one of the most peaceful destinations I have visited thus far. It's a quite and humble town located on the banks of the Mekong and is surrounded by gorgeous moutains. And it's true, there really isn't much there, which is why we spent less than 24 hours in town. But the feeling you get when you are there is really the reason to go.

However, there were tourists everywhere. Wat Phu Si, where I took the sunset photo shown below, was swarming with tourists fighting for the perfect spot to get their perfect shot. So was the market. We didn't go to the morning alms, but I can imagine how many people would be hanging around there. (Read more about the morning alms here.)

UNESCO World Heritage Centers (WHCs) are established to preserve our cultural and natural heritage, but are they really doing more harm than good? Luang Prabang and all kinds of other WHCs are begining to lose their value to swarming crowds of tourists. Read the full NY Times article about it here.

Also featured as Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree Thread of the Day.

My Home in Singapore

So this Google Map feature is pretty sweet, so I figure I'll give you a look at where exactly I am in Singapore (and the world). NTU is located on the western part of the island. It takes about an hour to get downtown via the bus and the MRT. The green, red, and purple rectangles are the MRT stops, and the downtown is the whole area around the City Hall / Raffles Place stops, right on the bay.


View Larger Map

Best of Cambodia Photos

I've finished meticulously selecting and editing my very favorite photos from my trip to Cambodia, which can be seen on my smugmug. Our trip started in Phnom Penh, where we just explored the city (on foot, for the most part), including Wat Phnom, which gives the city its name, the Royal Palace, as Phnom Penh is the capital of Cambodia, as well as the Tuol Sleng Torture Museum and the Killing Fields of the Pol Pot Regime (I didn't take any photos there, however).

We also went to Siem Reap, where the main attraction are the Temples of Angkor. The most notable is Angkor Wat, and we hired a tuk-tuk driver to take us on the "small circuit," which in the map below is Route 66. You can see Ankor Wat is the first stop in the lower left-hand corner of the map, and you can also see the moat surrounding it. After that we stopped at Phnom Bakeng, to the left of the road, and Angkor Thom is the giant square complex in the upper left corner. That's where Bayon, Terrace of the Leper King, Terrace of the Elephants, and a few others are located. Keep going a bit more and you'll come to Ta Prohm, where parts of Tomb Raider were filmed.

Move the map around a bit to the south, zoom out a bit, and you can see the Tonle Sap, where the floating village is. I tried to find it on there but had no luck. Phnom Penh is located a few hundred kilometers to the southeast of Siem Reap. Just follow Route 6 until it meets up with Route 5.


View Larger Map

Those Damn Yanks

I found an interesting post on Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree forums regarding worldly views of Americans. One poster described the "typical American" as "superficial, doesn't know anything about the outside world ("You're from Amsterdam? Yeah sure I know the place man, my old man used to be in Germany for years") and consequently doesn't respect local customs ("Unbelievable that no-one speaks English here in France/Spain/Italy etc")." I would add that the "typical American" in some ways feels that because he is American he is obligated to more liberty and "freebies" than the locals (You American! Free drink for you! No waiting in line!).

I couldn't possibly be posting this with a certain exchange student in mind, could I??

Take a look at the thread here.

Suck It, China!!

I have been SOOOOOO looking forward to visiting China. Not Shanghai, not even Beijing. I don't want to go to the cities. (Though I was planning on spending a day or two in Beijing, but only because my flight home leaves from there.) I just wanted to go to Yunnan.

Yunnan!! Lijiang, Dali, Tiger Leaping Gorge, Shangri-la ... it was for peace of mind, really. A week or two for me to get out in the mountains and do ... well, nothing. Not-do. Just relax. Enjoy the scenery. Clear my mind. Meditate.

I was planning to spend a day or two here, another day there, and leave elsewhere when I felt like it. No reservations, no plans, no day-to-day itinerary. That would completely defeat the purpose of relaxation and my not-doing. And though I had read that flight and hotel confirmations were needed for visas, from what I read it seemed it was only for extensions, multiple entries, and more complicated visa situations. So this morning I went to the consulate with my passport, my 30 day single entry tourist visa application, and my flight confirmation home from Beijing.

And they wouldn't give me a visa!! I told them I was going from Hanoi to Kunming via train, but didn't know when I would get to Hanoi so I didn't have anything booked. She said too bad. She also asked for my hotel reservations, and I told her I'm too cheap for hotels and the places I stay in don't take reservations, though I did give her the information of some places I found in my guidebook. She said too bad. She said do it in Hanoi.

So I said fine, I'll do it Hanoi. No big deal, I guess, though it'd be a bit scary leaving Singapore and not being certain I can get into China to catch my flight home. But then I started reading travel forums and read that Americans can't get visas outside of the United States or their country of residence. So now I basically can't get in unless I book everything in advance in Singapore, which is impossible for my budget and impractical for my travel plans. Plus that defeats the whole purpose of my visit to Yunnan.

So now China has gotten its panties all in a twist cause of Tibet and cause, well, it's China, and they've gone and f-ed up my plans. I suppose they are quite justified in many of these new regulations, and have every right to deny someone entry into their country. Though they are being a bit too anal about it -- i.e. not letting a single person with any trace of a criminal record in. And stopping expats on the street, demanding to see their passports. Now having flight confirmations is a pain but is reasonable -- to an extent -- but hotel reservations?? How is anybody supposed to travel like that? Backpacker-style, I mean.

Whatever, I'll figure something out, I just wanted to rant for a bit. Naptime! :)

Happy New Year!!

Sunday marked the beginning of Songkran, or the Thai New Year. In Bangkok and Chiang Mai especially, Buddha images are paraded around the streets while people throw water on them to "bathe" them. Not only that, but people get out their hoses and water guns and have some fun on the streets with each other as well. Not only for the traditional cleansing and renewing purposes, but also because it's the hottest time of the year in the area -- the end of the dry season. When I was at Khao Son Road in the beginning of the month the King lead a parade through the streets, including Soi Rattumbutri where I was eating breakfast, to promote the celebration. This would have been a good weekend to spend in Bangkok!

You Know You've Been in Finland Too Long When ...

Found this on facebook. There was no mention of any other nationality besides Americans. Nobody likes us. :(

3. When a stranger on the street smiles at you:
a. you assume he's drunk
b. he is insane
c. he's an American

25. You hear loud-talking passengers on the train. You immediately assume:
a. they are drunk
b. they are Swedish-speaking
c. they are American
d. all of the above

Madison Dining ...

Who's up for it? Everyone knows that Madison has great food, but until now, I've never really been adventurous enough to try much more than Paisan's and the OG. But I have slowly been realizing that Madison just may have some really, really good authentic Asian food. And the food over here is amazing! (Except for the Chinese food, which gets really old really fast.) So, upon returning back home I have two goals: to learn to cook some of this amazing food, and to dine in local restaurants serving up these delectable meals.

To Cook:
Amok, the national dish of Cambodia. Fish cooked with banana leaf, coconut, and lemongrass, and served with steamed rice, sometimes with curry.
Curry! Red, green, spicy, mild, you name it.
Any Indian food, for that matter.
Banana pancakes, but they're only real if you cook the bananas inside.
Phat Thai, street-vendor style.
Hot and Sour Soup, my favorite in Canteen 2.
Kaya jam, the delicious green stuff Singaporeans eat on their toast every single morning.

To Dine:
Sukhothai, on Regent Street (Thai)
Lao Laan-Xang, on Willy Street (Lao)
Maharaja, on Odana Road (Indian)
Taj, on Park Street (Indian)
Maharani, on Dayton (Indian)
Bandung, on Willy Street (Indonesian)
Sa-Bai Thong, on Odana Road (Thai)
Ban Thai, on Willy Street (Thai)
Gum Seng, on Johnson (Vietnamese)
T & M's Vietnamese Cuisine, on Grand Canyon Drive (Vietnamese)
Peking Palace, on Midvale Blvd (Chinese)
Wah Kee Chinese Noodle, on Willy Street (Chinese)
Mekong, on Willy Street (Asian)
Nam's Noodle, on Regent Street (Asian)
And I am NOT going to Yummy Buffet. There is too much bad karma around that place.

Wow, this makes me want to move to Willy Street even more. If you're up for anything, check www.madisondining.com for reviews.

And I just realized I'll be home for the Taste of Madison!! WHOOOOO!!

"A Tonic for the Soul"

In a Buddhist town surrounded by mountains and the Mekong where honking horns and staying out past 11:30pm is prohibited, one can't help but leave feeling at peace.

Cambodia and Laos Highlights

People-watching at parks in Phnom Penh
The scenic bus ride from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng
Tubing in the Nam Song!
Eating amok every night in Cambodia
Exploring Angkor like it was a jungle gym
Cheap and delicious beer
Finding my Bangkok Rastaman (who only comes out at night ...)
Banana Pancakes (major bonus when they are cooked inside)
Hammocks
Bowling in Vientaine
Mountains and karsts of northern Laos
Five pressure points on a cougar's jaw
Luang Prabang handicrafts
Happy pizza
Kayaking partway to Vientaine
Rope swing- and cliff-jumping

And a few lowlights ...
Garbage spilled out all over the streets of Phnom Penh
Begging children in Cambodia
The Vang Vieng Friends epidemic
Mosquitos
Visa fees

Khao Son Road Syndrome

Today, I am in Bangkok. Partially because I wanted to just chill out for a while, partially because I wanted to do some shopping, partially because I wanted to find my non-english-speaking rastafarian friend from last time, but mostly because I didn't want to take two flights to get me back to Singapore. So I took an overnight train (really quite fun) and will be flying out on Tuesday (since I waited too long to book a flight for Monday and now they're all sold out).

Anyways, I started thinking more about Khao Son Road and the whole backpacker scene that goes on here. Being by myself this time, I've had an entire day to pretty much people watch and think. I wondered to myself what these people were like back home, wherever that may be. Do they have jobs? Do they have families? Do they wear suits and ties to work, or do they dress like hippies all the time? I have no doubt in my mind that many of them do, in fact, dress like hippies every other day of their lives, well, because they are hippies. But for many of them I don't imagine that.

So why do all these people travel? I sincerely hope that they don't just spend their days bumming from Boeng Kak to Vang Vieng to Hat Rin to Khao Son and back. But if they do, is there really anything wrong with that? I suppose there isn't. The reason why I travel is to learn about different people and different places, but I'm realizing that it's not quite as easy as it sounds. If I can't speak to the people that live in Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, etc, because of our language barrier, how am I supposed to learn much from them? It just can't be done. At least not very efficiently.

So you take what you can get with traveling. But I digress. I posted this as a rant and rave on Khao Son Road, thus I continue forward with my rant.

Khao Son Road is nothing but a circus. Just a big goddamn circus where everybody wears fisherman pants and has dreads and 5 bracelets on one wrist and drinks buckets of booze every night and where even the fellas walk around with those oversized purses. Or pouches. Whatever.

But here's the thing: I'm doing it too. Guess what I'm wearing right now? Yep, fisherman pants. And a BeerLao shirt. And I bought an oversized purse today at the market. See!!! I'm getting sucked into the trap!! It's like a quicksand circus that just pulls you in. To illustrate my point I'll post the text of a t-shirt I saw today whilst bumming around Khao Son Road. It's called "Khao Son Road Syndrome:"

1. I shall wear as big a backpack as possible to bare proud witness of my creed. Check. My backpack isn't so much a "backpack" as it is an oversized pouch, but is about fifty times bigger than the purse I bought today. It's really just one bottomless pit for me to stuff things in since there's not much for pockets and compartments.
   
2. I shall not leave Khao Son Road without a Lonely Planet guide. Check. I didn't buy one here, but I did bring my "Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, and the Greater Mekong" book along.
   
3. I shall wear the traditional international backpacker's uniform and don at least one piece of local clothing (e.g. conical hat in Vietnam, a krama in Cambodia etc) to show my oneness with Asian people. Check and check. Thai fisherman pants, remember? And the purse? (Which is really more for the foreigners than the locals, but everybody has one.) I've also got a BeerLao shirt on and a krama up in my room, though those aren't from Thailand.
   
4. I shall eat banana pancakes and phat thai on a regular basis, for it is quintessential Asian food. Check. Banana pancakes + BeerLao, OR a pancake with a scoop of ice cream, is the best breakfast ever. And what did I eat for lunch today? Phat Thai from a street vendor. Oh yea, and mangoes with sticky rice for dinner.
   
5. I shall stay in the cheapest guest house. More money for beer. Check. This is true regardless of where I go. The room I'm staying in for the next two nights isn't much larger than the bed thats inside, has one window that opens to the hallway, and a couple of crickets. It costs 240 Baht, or about $8 a night. THAT is actually quite expensive. But not for Thailand.
   
6. I shall drink the local beer, for I shall always endeavor to be in tune with local culture and because it is cheapest. Check! So far Angkor has been my favorite. BeerLao is pretty good too, especially the dark. As for Thai beer, however, Chang doesn't quite live up to the standards, so I think for my breakfast tomorrow I'll go with Singha.
   
7. I shall make pilgrimage to a Full Moon party on Hat Rin at least once in my life. Check. Well, half-check. Does it count if I made the pilgrimage but the party was postponed? Even so, I'll come to a FMP sooner or later. Even if I'll be the crazy, creepy 40 year old woman, I'm going to a FMP eventually.
   
8. I shall bargain without mercy and hone my skill to a sharp edge, so that I can proudly proclaim our sacred motto "I got it for less than the locals." Check? Still working on this one, but I think the more I smile and bat my eyes the more luck I have.
   
9. I shall not leave Khao Son Road without having my hair colored, dreadlocked, corn-rolled, or shaved off. Half-check? I'm not dying my hair here, most definitely not corn-rolling or shaving it, and the dreads will have to wait until Peace Corps or for my year-long travel adventure, if ever. But I did get a henna tattoo, which for me, counts enough.

So there you have it. I suppose this means I have been diagnosed with Khao Son Road syndrome. Please, somebody get me out of here soon, because it can only get worse.

Oh right, but there's also the rave part of this that I forgot about. Khao Son Road is soooooo much fun!! You can just walk down the street and meet all sorts of crazy people, for example, the man that gave me a massage today. He did a really good job, and kept telling me I needed to release my chakras, then he told me he was going to clear my sinuses or something so I had to lean my head back and open my mouth. Then he blew in my nose. In my nose!!!! I was pretty freaked out so my reaction was to move his face away from my nose, and in the process I rubbed my recently-hennaed wrist onto my nose and got it all black. But that's beside the point.

Okay, time to Skype, so more on this later. Or just ask.

Laos

Today is my last in Laos; Quinn is on a connection flight to KL right now before heading back to Singapore, and I'm hanging out for a few more hours until my train leaves for Bangkok. It's an overnight bed and I'll arrive in Bangkok around 6:30am. From there I think I'll bum around Khao Son Road for a day, then head to the airport and finally back to Singapore on Monday.

The trip to Laos has been quick and fun, but we really just scratched the surface of what it's like here. Eighty percent of the population lives off the land and the rest are in the cities -- Luang Prabang, Vientiene, and Pakse. From what I saw on the bus ride, their homes and villages don't look much different than those we saw in Cambodia, but they aren't living in poverty like the Khmers. It's comparable to the way the Native Americans used to live. I was hoping to have time for a homestay and actually live in a hill-tribe village for a night or two, but funds and time are short so it will have to wait until my next trip to Southeast Asia. (And believe me, there will be another!)

Luang Prabang was a delightful and charming place, and is a fabulous spot for anyone who just wants to relax and unwind. A real "tonic for the soul" as its been described. It's this small old-world town (a UNESCO World Heritage Site), surrounded by mountains and lined by the Mekong River. An 1130pm curfew is enforced and all the restaurants, shops, and internet cafes close down before then. Honking horns and even talking too loudly are prohibited. The views there are gorgeous, and the shopping is amazing!! Artists from the area flock to the main drag to set up shop for the Night Market, a very charming (and peaceful!) market illuminated with Christmas Lights selling high-quality scarfs, blankets, slippers, fisherman pants, dolls, lanterns, and a myriad of other goods, made right in their villages and sold in the town.

Vang Vieng is a backpackers' mecca, and though it's filled with kids just barely out of high school mindlessly staring at a TV all day, it's quite a fun place! One of the times when I jumped into the river from a swing I sort of landed angled on my left side, and even now, a few days later, it still feels like somebody punched me in the side. At least it's not as bad as Quinn's battle wounds -- she fell into the river about two meters from the base of the ladder.

Instead of taking a bus all the way from Vang Vieng to Vientiene, which would have taken another eight hours or so through the mountains, we kayaked part way down the Nam Lik river. It was my first time kayaking and it was quite fun!! There was one set of rapids and Quinn and I did pretty well on them -- we were the only ones in our group to make it through, until the very end when we lost our balance and our kayak tipped.

So now I'm in Vientiene, and will be leaving for Bangkok in about four hours. I'm not going to do anything but bum around KhaoSan Road all day, and maybe do some more shopping. I'm getting pretty exhausted from traveling, but I think all I need is a day to not do anything and I'll be ready to get back on my feet. Quinn and I have had a busy busy week and a half, going from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap and Angkor to Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng to Vientiene, and every day has been hectic and full of activity. So it starts to get to you after a while and you get very exhausted. But it's fun, and exhilerating all at once.

Am I Really Here? Is This Really Real?

Did I really just spend the entire day tubing down a river in a village surrounded by limestone karsts? Did I really stop at multiple tube-up bars and have a giant BeerLao at each, play volleyball in the mud, and jump from 10 meters into the middle of the river?? Did I really just take a six hour bus ride through the mountains to get here? Am I really in Vang Vieng, or is this just a really vivid dream as a result of my malaria pills??? I love it here. There is absolutely nothing to do except tube down the river, all day, every day, enjoy being in the middle of absolutely nowhere, in Laos, surrounded by limestone karsts that display the beauty of the world. Well, actually there is a lot more to do -- rock climbing, kayaking, visiting villages, and the like -- but I could really spend an entire week here tubing every single day. And I met a number of people today who have done just that. Every day they try to leave they end up staying a little bit longer.

Okay, so if you've read anything about Vang Vieng, you'll be well aware of the TV-bar Friends epidemic, and let me tell you, it is no exaggeration. I had a banana pancake and BeerLao for breakfast and we sat and watched Friends for maybe an hour. And the place across the street? The exact same thing. And down the other road? Yep, there too. At least there was one place showing Family Guy.

"Make Good Money, $5 a Daaaaaaaay ...

... Made anymore I might move awaaaaaaaayyyy"

Yesterday in Siem Reap Quinn and I took a tour of the Floating Village on the Tonle Sap -- Khmer for "Fresh Lake." There is an entire village of Khmers, Vietnamese, and Muslims who all have houseboats, basically, that just float around this lake. Land is quite far away and I'm not sure how often most of them get to it. They have pigs in boat-cages, some have battery-powered TVs, there is a floating basketball court even, and the schools are built just within the riverbanks.

In the dry season the Tonle Sap gets quite dry -- our boat driver said the water depth was 3km and in two months it would be almost completely dry. In the rainy season the Mekong River floods into the Tonle Sap river where the two meet in Phnom Penh. The Tonle Sap river reverses its flow, and the lake near Siem Reap swells from nothing to an astonishing 10 to 18km deep.

Anyways, I talked with out boat driver quite a bit. He told me his life story and how he was orphaned as a child and lived with monks for 10 years. He said he is 24 -- meaning he was born in 1983 or 1984, and that his mother, father, and siblings were killed in the fields. (This I don't entirely understand, since I thought the killings ended when the Vietnamese came in in 1979.) Anyways, he learned English very well and is now paying US$12 a month for school to learn Chinese and Japanese. His salary as a boat driver is $15 per month. Anything more than the $3 left over is from tips. He doesn't have a home, and every night he sleeps in the boat he drives.

Cambodia is so much different than back home, more so than anywhere else I have visited thus far. It makes me appreciate all the opportunities I have back home so much more, and everything that I grew up with. Really, everything in my life has been basically handed to me. Kids in Cambodia work on the streets selling things, begging for money, trying to be cute so tourists will take their photo and give them a dollar. And so far I haven't seen any way for them to get out of poverty.

More on Impressions of Cambodia

Cambodia, both the people and the landscape, really bring on a wealth of thoughts and emotions. It's difficult to generalize the people and the country because there is so much here. For one, the landscape is very different than anywhere else in Southeast Asia ... at least for what I have seen. I was expecting jungles, hills, mountains, maybe some fields, but in general a very green and lush landscape. So far I have seen none of that. Everything is dry dry dry!! The streets in the cities are paved but as soon as you get outside that, even in the back-streets of Siem Reap where our guesthouse is, the streets are all sand. Red sand, not even dirt, really. And palm trees dot the scenery as well, but a different sort than what you would picture at the beach. It seems everywhere I go the palm trees are a little bit different. Here they are tall and they are short, but the leaves all stem out from the trunk in a big spherical shape on top, like a tuft or something. So the trees are green and the ground is red. Or just brown from the dry grass. Cows can be seen all along the roads outside of the city, either munching on grass or just laying in the sun. These cows, however, are much different than the happy cows that come from Wisconsin. They may be happy, I'm not really sure, but they are skinny and all white. And just wandering, really.

Now for the people. The Khmers are a very proud people, and they should be. One thousand years ago they built a massive set of temples, terraces, and other structures in the Angkor region, most notably Angkor Wat. This is the Khmer symbol of national pride and will continue to be so for years and years and years to come. They are also survivors: just thirty years ago they went through a decade or so of tremendous torture, death, and destruction. First the Vietnam War, when the United States executed a massive bombing campaign and dropped more bombs in a single campaign than in the entire World War II combined. The effects of this can still be felt today. I think 700 people still die from UXO (unexploded ordnance) accidents every year, and people, mostly children, will continue to die from this for several years to come. Nobody knows for sure how many landmines are still out there and where they are. (Travel tip: if ever you visit Cambodia, don't dare stray from the path.) So much of the country lives in poverty, and even conditions in the cities aren't great. Garbage is everywhere, and I mean everywhere, especially in the streets of Phnom Penh. Garbage cans are few and far between, and instead everyone just throws their garbage onto the street, or ontop of the monstrous pile on a sidestreet. It doesn't make the city look very clean, or smell very clean either. And not only in Phnom Penh, but Siem Reap and Angkor as well, children are put to work by their parents by selling things on the street. Kids as young as 4 or 5 years old, coming up to you selling 10 braclets for a dollar or a knock-off edition of Lonely Planet or this and that other books, jewlery, and postcards. A little girl followed me today around Angkor, sat next to me while I ate, and said if I didn't buy a water from her I would make her cry. And there are so many disabled and disfigured landmine victims that beg on the streets, especially around the Tuol Sleng museum.

On the other hand, the Khmer seem to be a very happy bunch and are always laughing and making jokes, both at each other and at all the funny visitors they see in their country. Walking through the streets of Phnom Penh a group of men who were eating lunch all burst out in laughter as we photographed nothing more than the streets and the buildings in town. Tuk-tuk drivers laugh and horse fight while waiting for their customers to come back. Teenagers play a form of hacky sack in the parks all day and all evening with not a care in the world. Even the workers at the guest house laugh and make jokes all night long.

Visiting Cambodia makes one realize how dark humanity can be from time to time, but also how strong it is and how it can recover from those dark times. It's heartbreaking to think about how one dollar can mean so much to a person here, yet back home a dollar can't hardly get you a candy bar or soda any more. With so many millionaires in this world it's unfair that there are so many living in poverty. But what can be done about such things? Closing the gap seems an impossible task, and no matter how many dollars I have to give to the people on the streets it's not going to change anything. All that I know I can do is spend time volunteering in these underdeveloped countries, maybe lending some knowledge of engineering to develop any villages that need it or maybe even just teaching English somewhere. Even volunteering for a few months, or a year or two, won't do much to close the gap, but if it helps out a few people or maybe even an entire village then the work is well worth it.