Passport to Adventure

That is NOT me in the third picture

Posted by Mike on May 15, 2013 Mike's Posts

May 152013

Here are three favorite diversions to seek out when visiting exotic locations: rooftop restaurants, music clubs, and a local golf course. Golf we’ll get to later.

Rooftop restaurants. In an Asian city it’s nice be above the hoi polloi. The air is a bit cleaner. The view of thronging, endlessly fascinating streets below is more entertaining and less of a scrum if you are watching it from above instead of navigating through it. There is lot interesting to be stuff to be seen on 3^rd world roof tops … laundry to love making . Here is my artistically metaphorical photo of the great Buddhist temple of Boudhanath … which I saved just before Jacki hit the delete button (several times actually ?)

‘Boudhanath with Beer’

Usually you find local music in the street or in saloons and restaurants. Local music is, of course, a great atmospheric … a sound track for the local culture. Even the most foreign sounds can be toe-tapping after a few jumbo Everest beers, and you will almost always see and hear some unrecognizable instruments, usually home-made. We found this little restaurant in KTM from a sign on the street.

I have the cd. It’s still in its shrink wrap like most of my other native music cds . I bought it because this sweetly smiling something-player came to our table and told us the proceeds from the cd …. ‘were for the children’.

Toasting good bye to KTM … avoiding eye contact with a hippie King Birenda’s 1972 purge apparently overlooked

from the once infamous Kathmandu Guest House

A rare photo taken by a Nepali that isn’t blurry and has all three of us actually in the photo

Will the real sadhu please stand up …

Posted by Mike on May 7, 2013 Mike's Posts, Uncategorized

May 072013

Since my sinuses hurt just writing about Kathmandu I want to move on, but we have to visit Pashpatinath, the holiest of Hindu religious sites in Nepal. We immediately hire one of the students touting themselves as guides. Always do this. Here you walk among temples built around the time Europeans were stacking logs at Jamestown … temples devoted to that wild and crazy guy, Shiva, who in the pantheon of Hindu gods has the most questionable of biographies. Shiva’s story at Pashpatinath is too fantastical for me to tell – you’d think I was drunk and not just hung-over – suffice to say it’s a story involving a godly (large) phallus, a stag with one magical horn, an ocean of blue poison, a cow with enchanted milk, and said phallus transforming itself into a pillar of light. This story, quite illogically, makes Pashpatinath, with its ragged line-up of funeral ghats on the Bagmati River, the place to go to dispose of the dead. Count me in.

We are allowed to wander among the pyres to watch people dispose of the dead by burning their ‘booddies’ into fine ash … or not-so-fine depending how much fuel you can afford, and sweeping them into a rather inadequate – at the moment – barely-moving river. The Bagmati, at the end of the monsoon season, is a trickle and must be diverted into a narrow channel below the funeral ghats to receive the fricasseed remains of the departed’s temporal vessel. Not to make light of this tableaux because it is very moving and is treated reverently by our guide … whose name was probably Krishna. Don’t remember.

The fellow that acts as, and I am sorry to use this word, ‘barbequer’ does so because he is of that caste … of cremators. After the ‘booddie’ is incinerated and swept into the water, another sad soul in a dhoti (loincloth) wades knee deep into the squalid mud and fishes around with his hands for any jewelry that the departed may have been wearing … this is customary. The family will not reclaim it and only those of particular caste are allowed this ‘opportunity’.

Pashputinath is also a destination for wandering sadhus, ascetic holymen, who have abandon all material attachments in search for purity and enlightenment and ….

… occasional tips for photographs. How to tell the difference between a real sadhu’ and a pretend one … this from Krishna. The pretend ones negotiate the tip for a photo.

… and won’t stay in places like this.

btw If my wife ever gets a clue and leaves me here is where you will find me

Kathmandu: the crazy uncle who lives in the attic

Posted by Mike on April 28, 2013 Mike's Posts

Apr 282013

I am not going to write a lot about my old friend Kathmandu because later I am going suggest that you not come here … to skip it for a better option. (that would be Bahktapur a few miles to the east in case ‘later’ is a rhino or an avalanche)

It’s usually a boring travel narrative to talk about ‘the way things used to be’. But Kathmandu is a peculiar story. Nepal was a monarchy the first time I came here. King Birenda, back in the 80′s, was by all appearances respected by his people … ‘revered’ as Kings would have it. One thing I remember about Birenda is that he kicked all the hippies out of Kathmandu in the 70′s by tightening visa laws. (Duuude !?) Once I actually got a limo glimpse of the Queen on her way to her walled lakeside palace in the then little town of Pohkara, her eyes rigidly forward speeding past her Nepali subjects lining the streets as if she might catch something from them. In fact the Nepali royal family tree was loaded with rotten fruit. Birenda’s brother introduced the heroin trade to Nepal addicting hundreds of thousands of his own people. Then of course the Shakespearian grande finale in 2002 when Crown Prince Dipendra opened fire on his family killing the King and Queen and another half dozen family members … over a girl they didn’t like. (Duuude ! ) Dipendra then shot himself in the head but not fatally at first. He lasted a couple of days during which time the confused, traumatized Nepalis actually made him King for his two surviving days since he was, well … next in line.

Now out of all this chaos come the Maoists. While the western countries were wallowing in our financial woes a few years ago Nepal was in a full blown civil war with the murdering, bank-robbing Maoists, now getting traction by virtue of a few reasonable ideas to help the people. Populists but still Maoists …. actual Stalinists if you believe the posters at their rallies. But the opposition was so bad the Maoists for the first time in human history won an election and run around today opposing things like voter registration. The consequence of all the fighting was that tourism was slowed to a trickle and all the hill people flooded the Kathmandu Valley doubling its populations.

Out-of-control expansion has caused concrete to spread like kudzu out-pacing infra-structure so the city is now without electricity for half the day. It’s a bigger and more bizarre story than I can tell but check the picture. The once enjoyably walk-able and bike ride-able streets are clogged with traffic and pollution. The local-market ‘ambience’ of fresh morning produce spread on sidewalk tarps, of good exotic street food, the occasional goat’s head boiling in a sidewalk cauldron has since morphed into a commercial sprawl of trekking shops, Chinese knock-off emporiums, souvenir shops and tourist claptrap. The old medieval sites like Durbar Square, that once charactertized the city, are now isolated into World Heritage sites you now have pay to walk through.

Maybe this explains Kathmandu ?

Nick did a few tourist ’survey’s for KTM coeds

The city is deranged, enervating, fascinating and, despite the lack of breathable air, we loved every minute.

If you have to google ‘etch-a-sketch’, skip this post

Posted by Mike on April 23, 2013 Mike's Posts

Apr 232013

Eighteen hours later … and, as always, I am awake the entire flight. Lots to do in eighteen hours. First do the in-flight magazine crossword, then check out the models in the SkyMall magazine, then master the entertainment module which, on international flights, offers every movie ever made. I will eat every pretty-good meal they serve and snatch a complimentary chardonnay miniature now and then. You know those little fat guys in Wall-E that float around in Barcaloungers? It’s pretty much like that.

By and by I’m about halfway through Die Hard Another Day and Jacki turns to me and says

“Oh oh. Calcutta”

“Oh Oh Calcutta ? I haven’t seen that one. Is it good ?”

“Not a movie, the city in India … that’s where we’re going.” Jacki likes to watch the flight path screen and peeking over I see our ETA has changed from 20 minutes to 3 hours and the nice straight line coming west from Seoul has morphed into a scribble over Kathmandu. It looks like someone is flying the plane with a Etch-a-Sketch. Despite the fact we are cruising through a towering skyscape of brilliant white clouds we are told we have a weather problem and we are being diverted to Calcutta. Something is broken in Kathmandu. Welcome to Katmandu

After the war Sgt Schultze applies to United Airlines

Posted by Mike on April 23, 2013 Mike's Posts, Uncategorized

Apr 232013

One nice thing about trans-pacific flights is that you get fly Asian airlines. In this case Singapore Air to Seoul then Thai Air to Bangkok There is an old school elegance on international carriers, particularly the Asian ones. The flight attendants are generally young, beautifully-attired and coiffed with body styles that … let’s say and risk political incorrectness … don’t knock the coffee out of your hand as the they pass down the aisle. Which brings me … I can’t help it … to United Airlines, whose motto could be: ‘We are the not the World’s Most Exasperating Airline because we don’t try’. On our UAL connector flight from Reno to SF we settle in, the doors close and then (shockingly) nothing happens until a flight attendant hurries down the aisle opening every overhead luggage hatch … the things you are supposed close before take-off, right ? Notwithstanding the troubling impression this created in the absence of any explanation, here is the eventual announcement from the United Airlines flight attendant. This is word-for-word because I wrote it down in my Fun Facts for a United Airlines Class Action Lawsuit notebook … Vol. 3

“We have too much weight in the cargo hold and if we can’t move luggage into the overheads we will have to de-plane passengers”

I swear.

Since the overheads are barely big enough to hold a box of girl scout cookies, there came this follow-up announcement: “Passenger Ivan Kofsalotsky (?) please report to the flight attendant” … which was easy since she was standing over him like Broomhilda. Mr Kofsalotsky, a befuddled old foreign national whom I am guessing had a stand-by ticket and a language problem, was hustled down the aisle clutching his carry-on to his chest. It looked like that movie scene where the Nazis find the Jew on on the train. Anyway as we sit some time longer on the tarmac, we flash back to our last United connector flight to SF which cost us our overseas flight connection to Paris – and our luggage, when an even more confused Mr Kofalotsky is shuffled back onto the plane with no explanation. I figured they probably just tossed a couple of bags out on the tarmac and off we went with Mr Kofalotsky back in his seat still clutching his carry-on.

Sometimes your mouth writes a check that the body has to cash.

Posted by Mike on April 21, 2013 Mike's Posts, Uncategorized

Apr 212013

This time we were just sitting around in my brother’s North Beach apartment over Christmas discussing travel bucket lists with the family. It was one of those rainy holiday Sundays when you eat and drink yourself into a warm couch potato stupor. The idea just popped out of that part of my wine-soaked brain that controls the involuntary tongue muscles.

“We should do the Annapurna base camp. They call it the Sanctuary you know. It must be really special.

Are we out of brie?”

To ‘do’ the ABC, as it is known, means an eleven day trek in Western Nepal from a steamy hot 3000 ft to snow and ice at 14000 ft. … all to stand in a glacial amphitheater of some the most highest and dramatic mountain peaks in the world.

I was thinking, if that’s what you want to call it, that Nick is fresh put of school with not much of anything to do that he couldn’t interrupt for a few weeks, so the idea of the three of us going to Nepal seemed so … I don’t know … dad-macho ? Dad-macho is where you trash talk your son, who used to be 8 and is now somehow 23, into a game of one-on-one when you haven’t played basketball in 20 years and your first six shots miss the rim entirely and the seventh tears your rotator cuff. But the thing is, you see, Nick has taken to calling me ‘old man’.

I do have some history here. Just enough to give the idea some cred. I had been to the Annapurna region in central Nepal twice before. I trekked on a lower elevation circuit with Jacki twenty-five years ago, which a quick calculation indicates that I was at the time … let’s see … twenty five years younger. Then I went again thirteen years ago with some buddies. On that trip we ‘flinched’ and elected to fly in (and up) to Jomoson and then hike out (and down). A stroll really, and at that time I was teaching martial arts three days week … okay, it was to 10 yr-olds, but I was still in pretty good shape with all the punching and kicking. Nevertheless comparing those two treks with hiking to Annapurna Base Camp is like comparing a full moon party on the beach with actually going tothe moon. Anyway at that point, practically speaking, the likelihood of actually doing this was rather remote. I assumed the conversation would just move on.

But I forgot Jacki was in the room. The planning had already begun when I woke up from my nap.

This picture indicates where Jacki is in her Nepal planning

A big hero in a small corner of the world

Posted by Mike on February 24, 2013 LAOS

Feb 242013

Orphanage update February 2013.

Greetings from beautiful Luang Prabang.

The LPB orphanage is still the wonderous place that many of you will remember and with almost 600 children, we are now at full capacity. There have been several projects come to fruition in the last 6 months that have improved conditions considerably at the orphanage.

This year will be a very busy year and although Luang Prabang will always be my heartfelt priority, I have now started support at Numbuk and Suan Luang orphanage/ethnic schools.

We now provide support for over 1,800 children in orphanages and villages around Luang Prabang.

My staff giving out new mattresses and blankets

Last month, I opened the orphanage’s new art school. We built this quite quickly and the goal was to provide a room where all children can go after school to paint and draw. We have seats for 30 children and we supply the paper, paint and pencils. The room has been a big hit and has provided a much needed creative outlet for the children.

After some delays, our library has been completed with bookcases, chairs and tables. It was delayed as I needed to relocate the computer room, which is now complete. The school now has a separate Library and computer room and provides great learning opportunities for the children.

Last week I replaced the old, broken swings and we now have a set of new swings for the girls and a new set for the boys.

I have started a new nutritional program for the 150 youngest children at the orphanage. I now supply milk, 2 times per week for each of these children As before, we provide eggs, meat and fruit on an ongoing basis and I believe we now have a very balanced diet suitable for the children to grow up healthily.

Working with the kids

I have installed 3 more water filter systems around the orphanage and we now have four in total. Each child now has access to clean drinking water and we hope this starts to lower the incidence of stomach problems.

We had 2 doctors visit in November and saw almost 400 children and we are now collating a substantial medical data base. The general health of the children is good but we saw many female health issues and lots of ear infections. I am addressing female health through education, and girls now know they can be treated easily for typical female infections. I plan to start a monthly ear clinic in order to address the high incidence of ear infections.

Youngest class at the orphanage

I will maintain all these programs in the future as well as the dental and hygiene programs. I hope that if funding is available we can make the same positive changes at Suan Luang and Numbuk.

Suan Luang and Numbuk are orphanage/ethnic schools that are home to both orphans and very poor children.

In the poorest areas of Laos, even children with parents seldom have enough food to live on. Most are from very poor farming areas and live in very desperate conditions. Suan Luang and Numbuk provide a home and school for many of these children.

Suan Luang has 630 children from 9 to 19 years old and is just 30 minutes from Luang Prabang. Numbuk has over 400 children in the same age range and is situated 2.5 hours from Luang Prabang.

I am presently building a 36 metre dormitory at Numbuk. Over the next two years, the government wants to take in another 180 children. The new dormitory will allow for 90 more children to arrive in September this year and I plan to build 2 more dormitories in the next year to accommodate the extra 90 children due to arrive in September 2014. There are also 2 dormitories at Suan Luang that are close to collapse and they will need to be replaced when funding is available.

Conditions at both places are very poor . The quality of food is appalling with only 5 kg of meat (virtually all fat) to share between all the students and the vegetables supplied to both schools are dry and the cheapest available. Rice is given with each meal but is also the lowest quality and is seldom cooked properly.

Previously there was no clean drinking water at either school so I have installed a series of water filters and tanks at both places so that the children can now drink clean water. I have also started a food program for 2 meals per week at Numbuk and Suan Luang and we supply pork or fish, and eggs as well as fresh vegetables and herbs. I will provide a further two meals per week starting from April this year. This is a small step to help these children but we have to be diligent when initiating programs so that we can ensure that a suitable relationship evolves with the directors and the students before expanding these programs.

Most clothing donations are now going to Numbuk and Suan Luang as most children just have filthy, old clothes. I am expecting a container of clothes from Canada that has been organized by my friend and we hope this will solve the clothing issue in the short term.

New kids in front of the new school

Scholarships. Presently we sponsor about 70 orphanage students to university. This is a wonderful program as it offers each student their only chance to escape poverty. Without a scholarship, most students are forced to return to their villages, unemployed and live in very difficult conditions.

This year we have 45 graduates from the LPB orphanage and we hope to offer each a scholarship to university. The cost of a scholarship is $US650 for a year so if you know anyone who would be interested to support a student, please get them to contact me.

At Suan Luang, we have 130 children graduating in June. All will have no option but to return to their poor villages and try to find work. I want to offer the brightest students a working scholarship where I support them in LPB long enough for them to find work so that they can work their way through college. The working scholarship will cost $350 for each student and will pay for accommodation, 2 months salary and their university fees. This year I have a generous sponsor from Montpelier who has agreed to match every scholarship that I can get so if I can find 40 people to support a scholarship, then Montpelier will also sponsor 40 scholarships, for example. We have a chance to change many students lives for the better through this program.

My contact for this program is andrewb@lotusvillalaos.com.

Thank you all for your wonderful support to date. My projects are growing quickly and we are making a huge difference in the lives of many children and this can only happen with the support of very caring people.

Kind regards.

Andrew

Which one are you?

Posted by julie on February 19, 2013 CAMBODIA, LAOS, Random Ramblings, Thoughts on Travel, Travel Tips, Trip Reports

Feb 192013

Are you a human being, or a human doing?

Just hangin’. Muang Ngoi district, Laos

Is your life an endless series of planning and to-do lists?

What percentage of your time is spent just BEING?

Based on the number of talk shows and self-help books on the subject, it appears that we are taking that first step toward breaking the addiction – admitting we have a problem. Only eleven more steps to go! If you are in the Passport to Adventure recovery program, the next step is – GO TO LAOS! (Recommended dosage is 3 weeks. WARNING: Staying longer may lead to an uncomfortable sense of well being, and diminished desire compete in the rat race)

Minding little sister and the herd. Laos

If Bhutan can market their “Gross National Happiness”, then Laos needs to brand its laid-backness. It’s too bad that so many visitors rush through the country – most spend a few days in the UNESCO world heritage city of Luang Prabang, then fly to neighboring Vietnam, Thailand or Cambodia. They are missing a real opportunity to understand that there IS a different way to live this life. If there was ever a place to “chillax”, Laos is it.

Proud Grandpa, Luang Prabang, Laos.

This was our third trip to Laos – we were there 12 years ago, and 5 years ago. On each trip we spent 3 weeks, and covered different areas of the country, always returning to Luang Prabang. So, “how has it changed?”, you ask. Well, there are more tourists, more hotels and guesthouses, cars and motorcycles have replaced some of the bicycles, everyone has a cell phone, but aside from that, I did not detect any major changes the Lao people and their attitudes.

If you are planning to visit Southeast Asia, do not make the mistake of assuming the cultures are the same, or even similar. They are not. The main thing that makes the Lao people different is their complete lack of materialism. I think we are so consumed by consumerism, and our capitalist nirvana notions, that it’s really, really tough for most Westerners to fathom this non-attachment to earning money. Working hard, and getting bigger, better stuff is admired in our culture, but I saw no indication that the Lao have embraced this philosophy. We had more than one smile and tell us frankly, and even proudly, “we are lazy”.

It doesn’t look like laziness to me, it appears they just would rather enjoy life with little, than work hard for more. Their lifestyle seems to make a clear statement: we value time over money, and laughter over perfection. Lao culture is strongly influenced by Buddhist teachings, with acceptance of circumstances, detachment from outcomes, and the belief that ‘all is as it should be’ shaping attitudes. Western directness, planning, and problem-solving are truly foreign concepts.

After a couple weeks of travel in Cambodia, (which comes right after Laos on the “chillax” list) I was slowing down – lingering at cafés, not planning our next move, wandering aimlessly, taking naps, reading novels (instead of guidebooks) in the middle of the day – all stuff that should be part of every day, right!?

Well in Laos, they are. Neighbors hang out on the front step chatting, shop keepers don’t hassle you, children don’t have tantrums, people giggle a lot, they don’t hurry, they nap in hammocks or on the office floor, they celebrate often, they play music loudly, and they prepare food anywhere and everywhere all the time.

Making yummy coconut crisps on the street.

Your meals will rarely be delivered quickly – the prospect of getting a tip does not seem to motivate servers. In my opinion, they like tips as much as anyone would, but they see it as more of a gift, as in, those that have should share with those that have less, a common tribal ethic. They do not get the idea of trying to earn a tip – if they give good service, and you are financially able to tip, great, but they will never be solicitous, rushed or stressed out about it, nor angry if you do not leave one. They enjoy the opportunity to chat with you more than they covet thy money.

After two weeks in Cambodia and three in Laos, I had completely shed any urgent need to do anything. I found that the “eh, whatever, whenever” shoulder-shrug was becoming quite natural for me. Now that I have experienced true laid-backness, I’m really going to work hard on keeping it. (pun intended) And whenever I feel stress creeping in, I’ll just shrug my shoulders, remember the wonderful people of Laos, and recite my new mantra “baw pen nyang” – no problem!

Watch this fascinating TED talk: “What Makes Us Happy?”!

THE INCOMPETENT TRAVELIR: “Whaddayamean we’re here !?”

Posted by Mike on February 10, 2013 Mike's Posts, Uncategorized

Feb 102013

We left Paris on a bullet train heading to the south of France. They could also call it the quiet train. Here is something Americans in France should learn right away. Pipe down. The French speak to each other in cafes, in hotel lobbies, and on trains, in hushed voices. Americans talk to each other like they are ordering hot dogs at a ball park. I suppose like me:

Le Conductor: “Un billet monsieur” ?

Le Me: “No thank you. I went at the station

LC “Your ticket please”

LM “Oh. Here ya go. So you have le dining car ?

LC “Oui … two cars forward monsieur. You must have the reservation”

LM “ Tres Bien ! Where do I make the reservation ?

LC “From your seat monsieur. They can hear you in the dining car”

I like trains. I think trains are most comfortable and relaxing way to travel, and sometimes the most elegant. You can wander around on a train. Meet people. Go for a beer instead of waiting for one. So it’s not news that train travel in Europe is a different experience than it is in the United States. The French word for train is … train. Here the similarity ends. The French railway is known as the TGV Train à Grande Vitesse. (trans: ‘train that goes really fast’). It travels 200 mph and is powered by electricity from French nuclear power plants. In America the train is called Amtrak, and I do not know the average speed of American trains, but if you look out the window you could likely see Dudley Do-Right galloping past your car to untie Nell from the tracks. The last Amtrak train Jacki and I rode from Denver to San Francisco arrived 18 hours late ! By the time Amtrak got us to San Francisco the passengers had become zombie-fied. We had bad hair and were all shuffling and moaning in a line-up in the dining car waiting for our rations of Goldfish crackers.

You should never take an Amtrak train to a wedding, a funeral or the Super Bowl.

However if you like train travel there is a problem with the French bullet train. It gets there way too soon. Bullet is right. This train flew. It seemed like we arrived before we sat down. We had set out the cheese, crackers and sausage, a French mustard and a bottle of wine on our little train table when all of a sudden the Toulouse sign, our destination, flashes by the train window. “Mon dieu we’re here !?” Now I am Steve Martin scrambling to gather the wine bottle (can’t find the the cork ), half-wrapped cheese, (crackers on my lap, crumbs on my face), guide book under one armpit - phrase book under the other, hurrying to get off at our all-of-a-sudden stop. Jacki is somehow perfectly organized, but I am stumbling down the aisle with our picnic pressed to my chest. ‘Scusay moi ‘scusay moi’ !

A lovely French lady let me know, in a soft voice that I barely heard, that was I leaving my jacket in the overhead which just happened to have my cell phone in one pocket and my passport in the other. This is the day after we got all our luggage back.

The French train that took us from Paris to Toulouse The Amtrak train that took us from Denver to San Francisco

Travel in the year 1982 B.C.

Posted by julie on February 7, 2013 LAOS, Thoughts on Travel, Trip Reports, Uncategorized

Feb 072013

Before Computers (& Cell Phones)

Cycling Europe, 1982

In ancient times, (the 1980’s) travel meant being disconnected from everything you knew. You had no choice but to “Be Here Now”. Keeping track of your kids meant parents had to settle for the occasional postcard from their 20-something backpackers, or in our case, cyclists. When the only way for travelers to get word from home, was to retrieve snail mail at American Express offices, or make a very expensive phone call.

I have a vivid memory of waiting in the Paris post office for my name to be called. That’s how Eurailers phoned home in 1982. You went to the post office, wrote your name, and the number you wanted to call, on a scrap of paper, waited in line, handed it over to an operator, then sat and waited some more, wondering if your mom, dad, or boyfriend would be home to accept the collect call charges. If your timing was good, you’d hear announced: “Julie Conover, cabine trios”. In the small phone booth, a wooden cabin, you’d pick up the receiver and hopefully hear the correct voice. Then, anxious over the per-minute charges ticking away, you’d hurriedly give an account of your recent adventures, ask for money to be wired from your savings account to the Western Union office, or find out that your boyfriend wasn’t necessarily waiting for you anymore. (Oh well, c’est la vie, he was a world away, and you had more exciting experiences ahead)

Sangria-soaked in Pamplona Spain, Running of the Bulls

Getting mail was a real crap shoot, but amazingly worked pretty well. You had to tell your friends and family approximately when you would be in a certain city, then they had to mail their letter in plenty of time, and hope that it would end up in the right pile, at the right AmEx office, where you’d show up to cash a travelers check. It was always so exciting when you gave them your name and there was actually something for you. I can still picture the scruffy-looking, weary travelers sitting on the AmEx steps, the curb, a park bench; smiling or crying, over a letter from home.

GPS? Ah, negative. We rode bicycles for 6 months using a AAA road map showing the whole of Europe, and a dissected “Lets Go” guide – we would tear out the parts we had no use for, carrying only the currently relevant sections. When we needed directions, we asked locals. Getting lost was part of the fun. Ya think? Actually, no, getting lost on bikes is typically not fun.

Powerless = Powerfull! Muang Ngoi, Laos

Fast forward 30 years… I miss that kind of travel. Being so disconnected from home, friends, family, our native tongue, we were much more connected to our surroundings. I guess that is why I gravitate towards off-the-beaten-path places, I am subconsciously trying to create that feeling again. I actually hate having a TV a hotel room, and see clearly how the ubiquitous wifi of Southeast Asia, is more of a curse than a blessing. My favorite place in Laos this trip was a small village, only accessible by boat, with no electricity. I hung out for hours at candle lit restaurants chatting with travelers, star gazed, walked to neighboring villages, read, and, downloaded pictures to my laptop.

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