The End(ish)

March 14, 2013 by B + B

In four hours, we will board a Qatar Airlines flight bound (eventually, 30 hours later) for home. Whoa. It feels like time has flown, like nine-months has passed in ninety days. But at the same time, when we think about landing in Nairobi back in August, it seems like years have passed since we began our journey.

It took us months to get ready for this trip. There was money to be saved. Jobs to quit. Families and friends to hug. Houses to pack. Blogs to set up. Equipment to buy. Bags to pack. Downsizing from our everyday life to two carry-on bags and two day-packs and (temporarily) cutting ties took time. Today, it took us all of two hours to pack everything we own and say our goodbyes.

A few months ago, we started to recognize that this day would come, but didn't know how we'd feel about it. Would we be sad? Not ready? Terrified of the real world? Excited? Satisfied?

Now that the end is near (or here) and cannot be denied any longer, we're a little mix of everything. Mostly, we're excited. To see family and friends again. To start the next journey, wherever that might be. We feel really good about how we've spent our time and can honestly say we have no regrets (but if we had a money tree and a teleporter, we'd be more than tempted to keep traveling).

The hardest thing is knowing what a rare opportunity this is, being able to completely check out of our "real" lives, put everything we own in a box and get to know the world without two-week time limits or competing priorities. This could and might be a once-in-a-lifetime thing. But we hope not. Our goal for rejoining reality is to find a balance between reestablishing roots and leaving room for exploration. It's the dream, but now that we have a taste, it feels achievable on some level. We've always been travel junkies, but this experience has put a new emphasis on quality over quantity.

Even though we are out of time, we are rich in experiences that will last us a lifetime... or at least until the next trip.

See you State-side!

Lombok Special: Glow Worms and Stick Fighting

March 13, 2013 by B + B in Indonesia

We happened to be in Kuta during the week leading up to Nyale, Lombok's largest annual festival, celebrated in Kuta. Legend has it that a great war started between the suitors of a beautiful princess, each vying for her hand in marriage. The princess went to the Gods for help stopping the violence, but they told her that it was in her hands alone. In a desperate and selfless act, the princess drowned herself in the waves on Kuta's main beach to end the war once and for all. On the full moon of her death, thousands of glowing sea worms floated on the surface of the water and every year since, on the full moon of the same month, the worms return. To celebrate the miracle, villagers put on a week-long festival leading up to the full moon and the appearance of the worms (which they gather, cook and eat). The festival includes traditional competitions, such as horse racing and stick-fighting, the latter of which we were lucky enough to attend with our home stay family.

If you've never been to a Lombok stick fight, here's how it works. Local men from the crowd volunteer (yes, volunteer!) to enter the ring at the behest of a dancing referee / master of ceremonies. They are armed with a bamboo stick and a shield and dressed in a ceremonial longi (sarong) and head wrap. That's when the action starts. The two opponents enter the ring and beat the shit out of each other with bamboo sticks. It's fast and furious, each man trying to get as many hits in before the round is called. Before you know it, it's over and the crowd is looking for the next volunteers. It sounds innocent enough, but we saw the whelps, split skin and scars that prove one thing... bamboo sticks hurt! After the most violent rounds, it took twenty to thirty minutes of coaxing to get more men into the ring.

There were hundreds of spectators, in from villages around Kuta to watch the excitement. Luckily, our home stay Mama was not a woman to be taken lightly. She elbowed and glared her way (and us) to the front of the crowd. It was only after, in the safety of the car, that we learned the sport can be dangerous even for spectators... someone in the front row had been hit by a misaimed strike the day before! Ouch.

Beginning of the Indo

March 13, 2013 by B + B in SE Asia, Indonesia

We're in Indonesia with less than three weeks to go before we head home for the first time in nine months! We have so many emotions running through us right now that we're trying to slow down and use our time here to relax, reflect and prepare minds, bodies and spirits for re-entry.

But, old habits die hard. After a few quiet days in Bali (which is where we fly out of on March 14th), we got the itch to do some exploring. So we hopped a 4-hour ferry to Lombok, a neighboring island with a deserted Southern coastline.

We set up in Kuta, which shares a name but nothing else with Bali's famous party beach. It was just what we needed - beautiful, quiet, untouched and, outside of a few surfers and a friend of ours from back in Vietnam, all ours. We stayed with a local family for $8 a night, ate for about $2 a meal and found it pretty easy to settle into island life.

Brendan has been getting more and more comfortable shuttling us around on a scooter, so every morning we jumped on the bike in search of a new beach. We had no schedule and no agenda, with nothing to stop us from our pursuing our lazy adventures. Except of course for the rain (February is rainy season in Indonesia), which had plans of its own.

For the most part, we've been getting afternoon showers, short-lived and somewhat predictable. But, as we've learned over the last nine months, it's the unexpected moments that are most memorable.

After an incredible meal at Ashtari Cafe, we set out one morning with Marina (a friend we met on a trek in Vietnam, then met up with again several times in Vietnam and Cambodia) in search of a beach called Mawi, on the Southwestern tip of the island. The scenery was so beautiful on the way there that we kept stopping to take pictures. At one of our photo opps, women working in the rice fields started waving their arms at us. We immediately thought they were offended by the photos, but as they came near, we noticed they were using the palm-down, digging motion which actually means "come here" in a lot of SE Asian countries.

We sat down with them right then and there on the side of the road for a coffee break. We sipped extremely strong powdered coffee while they tried on every piece of clothing of ours they could get without taking the shirts off our backs (although one actually asked for that as well). They laughed as they passed around sunglasses, hats and headbands before returning everything and sending us on our way, amped up from the unexpected experience and the caffeine.

The extra energy came in handy when the road to Mawi suddenly became nothing more than a muddy path. I had to get off the bike and walk so Brendan could maneuver first our and then Marina's bike over the sketchiest parts. Then, we ditched the bikes altogether and decided to just walk the rest of the way. Marina broke her flip flop and I fell down completely, covering my entire backside with mud while Brendan and some locals looked on and laughed. When we finally made it to the beach, a huge storm blew in and left us stranded with about 13 locals in a bamboo hut by the water, thirty minutes from our bikes and another hour's ride from civilization. The wind was blowing so hard, the rain was coming into the wall-less hut sideways, soaking us but (silver lining) washing off a little of the mud on my clothes. We bonded with the villagers until the storm subsided, at which point they walked out with us. The man in charge placed his arm lovingly around Brendan while Marina and I followed with the women and children.

We didn't get much of a head start before the rain started up again. We pulled off to the side of the road, and we're immediately invited to seek shelter under another bamboo hut in the yard of someone's house. We were served fresh corn on the cob and talked about the weather with the dozen or so older men in the hut. When the downpour let up, we said goodbye, thinking we were leaving our hosts to their evening, only to have everyone follow us out. All the men there were also simply hiding from the rain, accepting and extending the generosity from the actual homeowners to us.

We finally made it home, unscathed and entertained by our misadventures. It was not the day we had planned, but was one of the best on the island and reminded us, yet again, that people are what make places so special.

Old Friends in New Places

March 12, 2013 by B + B

We made a quick stopover in Kuala Lumpur on our way to Indonesia - just two days to see the city and reunite with some old friends. Eric was my neighbor growing up. He moved into the house next door on Idlebrook when I was three and he was four. From then on, I have very few childhood memories that don't include him, good and bad. He gave my sisters and I grief and my dad relief from life with three girls. I still can hear him saying "hey neighbor" as he walked in our front door (without knocking of course) to check in or watch sports with my dad. He was afraid of the boogie monster and we got married in his backyard when I was five. Luckily his other (a.k.a. real) wife is understanding and also a friend from my Lakewood Forest days. Awkwardness avoided.

We hadn't seen each other in over a decade, so long in fact that the first words I said to Eric were, "oh my gosh, you're voice is so deep!" But, Eric and Shannon welcomed us with open arms and, graciously, an open bedroom in their beautiful KL apartment.

Thanks for showing us the best of your city. And congratulations on the twins. I'm sure it will be nothing but joy and payback ;).

Oh Yeah, And Then We Got SCUBA Certified in Thailand

March 10, 2013 by B + B in Thailand, Southeast Asia

We did nine dives in six days in Koh Tao and came away with our open water and advanced certifications. We are hooooked!

The open water course was a combination of class time, homework and diving over four days. We learned basic skills like how to assemble (and use) our gear, how to breathe underwater and what to do in any number of potential panic situations (run out of air, broken mask, lost diver - this last one actually came in handy during the advanced course). We also got to do our first dives to 18 meters, which is when the fun really began. So much so that we didn't want it to end.

We moved on to the advanced course, which is all practical. Meaning, no classroom and lots of diving. We dove a wreck, a retired WWII ship called the HTMS Sattukut. We learned navigation skills (using a compass underwater is harder than you think). We refined our buoyancy at an underwater "theme park" called Buoyancy World, where we swam through hoops and floated upside down. We did a night dive, where we lost a girl in our group and had to put our new skills to the test (she's fine, just easily distracted). And we went deep to our new max depth of 30 meters, although visibility was so bad, it felt like the night dive.

There were definitely a few times when we got nervous. B was pushing through his comfort level with water like a rock star and I had to face my fears of giant man-made objects in the ocean at the wreck (thank goodness it wasn't a submarine). But all-in-all diving has been an absolutely incredible experience. It really is a whole new world down there and diving allows you to be a part of it in such a natural way. We cannot wait to do it again in Indonesia!

We didn't have much time outside of diving, but the little free time we did have, we used to explore Koh Tao. It's a beautiful island. Very developed in some areas, but completely untouched in others. And, it's small, so with the right vehicle (ATV or 4-wheel drive) you can get pretty much anywhere in an hour. Our scooter confined us to the beaten track, but we found some ridiculous beaches on the south of the island.

We left Koh Tao with a new passion and a decent tan... A week well spent.

A Breath of Fresh Air

March 07, 2013 by B + B in Burma, Southeast Asia

Our first few weeks in Burma were great. We headed south, saw some interesting places, met some amazing people, ate wonderful food. When we turned north, still on a high from Mr. All Night's company, we suddenly realized we'd been missing one thing. Clean air. The cities in southern Burma are still some of our favorites, but the constant traffic and dusty roads mean dirty, heavy air. The final straw came in Bago, when we had to wait on the side of the highway for about an hour for our bus to Bagan. When it finally came, we could not get out of there fast enough. Our lungs were tired and our nerves were fried. We knew we wouldn't escape it completely in Northern Burma (Mandalay is one of the worst offenders), but for the most part we were about to give our respiratory systems a break from the hard work of the past 12 days.

Bagan was our first stop. We arrived at the bus station at nearly 3am to find horse and buggies the only possible mode of transportation. We also had not pre-booked a guesthouse, which may not have been the smartest choice since we were right in the middle of high season and Bagan is Burma's number one tourist site. Luckily, our horse cart driver knew a local place that most tourists probably avoided like the plague (as would we had it not been 3am with no other option). Not surprisingly, they had rooms available. Horse cart is not the fastest way to travel, but it's pollution free and after our time in the smoggy south, we signed up for a tour the next day. With more than 2,000 temples, the city could easily feel overwhelming. But we chose not to put any sight seeing pressure on ourselves and just took it slow (which is really the only speed in a horse cart). The best thing about the horse cart tour is that we didn't have to decide anything - our driver took charge completely, gave us a good feel for the city and made sure we saw the highlights.

There is a temple for everyone in Bagan. Old and untouched. Renovated. Grand. Small and intimate. There are beautiful frescos inside some, depicting scenes from Buddhist history and everyday life in Bagan at the time of the major temple construction (9-13th century) in impressive detail. Some house dozens of Buddha statues. There are stories of haunted temples (one in particular that was built by an ill-tempered king as penance for killing his father and brother. He became so strict about the construction that if the workers laid the mortar-less bricks anymore than a pin-width apart, he would have their arms cut off). But the real beauty in Bagan is its scale and panoramic views.

Our second day in Bagan, we took charge of our own destiny and rented bikes. It was a bit more work, but a great way to go at our own pace. Which again was very slow. We saw the sun rise over dozens of temples, with hot air balloons carrying the tourists with jobs floating in the distance. And for the better part of the day, we continued to find temples with open top floors so we could just sit and take in some of the magic of Bagan.

We could have easily stayed in Bagan for longer, but it was time to move to higher ground. We headed to Pin Lwin, which was built as a hilltop retreat for the Brits during colonial times and now serves as a getaway for Burmese with means and tourists seeking cool, clean air. We spent an amazing day in their botanical gardens, which turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. It was beautiful and green and smelled like fresh cut grass. It was completely different than Bagan, but a spiritual experience none the less.

To get to the mountains from Pin Lwin, we took our first train ride in SE Asia. The trains in Burma get a bad rap, but after 67 hours on the Tazara train line in Africa, we figured we could manage. The ride was a bit rough, but overall the six-hour trip went smoothly. We also went over the Gokteik Viaduct, which would make some train geeks jealous. When it was built in 1901, it was the highest railway bridge in the world and remains an engineering marvel even today.

Arriving in Hsipaw was like coming home for Brendan. It's a small mountain town with character and a laid-back vibe (sound familiar, CB?). We liked it immediately. And then we met Aike Teng. Our trek with Aike Teng will be something we remember for years to come. The hike itself was nice - beautiful views, time with nature, good exercise. But it was our interactions with Aike Teng, the villagers we met along the way and our home stay family that made it so memorable. I don't know if Aike Teng has ever met a stranger, but he treated us like good friends from the start (although he later admitted to not being sure about Brendan right at first). The hike took us through several Shan and Mong villages and gave us a glimpse into rural life, which is still mostly untouched and unchanged by the outside world. Life revolves around community, seasonal crops and tea farming and preparation. The people were as warm and welcoming as the city folk. They smiled, greeted us in their home language (we used three different dialects on the first day alone) and the children ran out and greeted us enthusiastically with their only English phrase, "bye, bye!"

Our home stay family is one of the few in the village who have converted a room into a guesthouse of sorts for the growing number of overnight trekkers. The accommodations are basic - small mattress and blanket on the floor to sleep and the family outhouse out back for other things. You live just as the family does, because you're meant to feel a part of it. And we did immediately. The second we arrived, the younger boys grabbed Brendan and took him outside for games while I sat on the sidelines with the children and "chatted" with the women. We were treated to wonderful meals, cooked over an open fire and eaten with the mother of the household watching every bite to make sure we ate enough. She was, not surprisingly, satisfied with our efforts. Unfortunately, my stomach couldn't quite handle mama's home cooking because the next day I was officially sick with my second stomach bug in SE Asia. Aike Teng and Brendan gave me a hard time the whole way, imitating my comments at dinner the previous night, "This is so delicious. I love spicy. Can I have more?" Whoops.

Going from the mountains and cool air of Hsipaw to the chaos of Mandalay was a bit overwhelming at first, especially since I was sick and we both were exhausted. But, with the help of some bicycles, we ended up having a great few days exploring the outskirts of the city. The quieter parts of Mandalay are actually lovely, especially compared to the congested mess of downtown.

On our last day in Burma, we woke up and went for sunrise at U Bein bridge, which connects Mandalay with another village over the glass surface of Taungthaman Lake. When we arrived, the fishermen were just starting to cast their nets from small canoes below. The buffalo grazed quietly on the grassy shores. And the first few commuters began to cross the teak foot bridge for work in the city. After a while, the morning exercisers arrived, walking the length of the bridge and breathing the fresh morning air. Students began to file across for school in their matching uniforms. And as the morning progressed, the bridge became an entire community of its own. A few vendors began selling fruit and water. Groups of friends or neighbors laughed as they caught up on their gossip. Locals practiced their English with tourists on the benches. It took on a life of its own and we were so lucky to be a part of it.

Looking around, we both knew we were about to say goodbye to a special place. Burma had it's ups and downs, but that morning on the bridge reminded us of our best experiences - the beauty of the North, the diversity of the South, the quiet spirituality of Bagan and most of all the incredible warmth of the people we met all around the country. It's hard to believe we almost missed it all - Burma only happened after we extended the trip, but it ended up making one of the biggest impressions.

Mr. All Night and the Path to Enlightenment

March 06, 2013 by B + B in Burma, SE Asia

It didn't take us long to realize that religion plays a huge role in Burma. It is a country of pilgrims and pagodas, and most of the sights worth seeing are sacred. Looking back on our first week, it seems like we were on our own pilgrimage in South Burma and we have the sore legs to prove it.

Flying into Yangon the first thing you notice is the famous gilded stupa of Schwedagon Pagoda. It rises up out of the flat skyline, providing a stark contrast to the gray city around it. It's beautiful at every time of day. At sunrise and sunset, the tower turns red in the changing light. During the day, the sun catches it's smooth surface and reflects like a beacon for tourists and worshipers. And at night, even when the rest of the city is without power, spotlights shine on the 330 foot tower, making it glow.

We visited Schwedagon in the late afternoon, climbing the first of our many steps in Burma to the top to walk clockwise, in the Buddhist tradition, around the main pagoda. Along the way we stopped at alters marked for our birth "days", Friday for Brendan and Wednesday for me, to light a candle given to us by a palm reader we had visited earlier that week. Astrology and fortune telling are a big part of people's lives in Burma and work hand-in-hand with Burmese Buddhist practices. So, one day while we were wondering the city, we sat down under a tree and had our palms read. Not surprisingly, Brendan's social/communication line was long and strong, my learning/leadership line was looking good and our prosperity/fortune lines were both extremely weak. Luckily, lighting the candles he provided (at extra cost, of course) on our birthday alters should correct course, so even though our bank accounts are still dwindling, we're feeling good about the future.

We settled into a good spot to watch to sunset, hoping to catch a glimpse of the 76 carat diamond refracting the fading light and were blown away by Schwedagon's beauty and spirituality.

But the real religious experience in Yangon for us was the incredible mix of cultures represented in the city - Burmese, Indian, Bangladeshi, Chinese, Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Buddhist. Walking down the street, it was easy to imagine ourselves in half a dozen different countries. We were surrounded by different features, languages, dress, and, most importantly, food. We ate mohinga, a traditional Burmese breakfast dish of noodles, fish sauce and banana stems that sounds weird but tastes delicious. We slurped Chinese chicken soup with homemade wontons. We snacked on Indian samosa salad, lassi and dosa. And we discovered the best tea in the world - a mixture of tea, spices, cream and condensed milk that we are determined to replicate. Tea houses are everywhere in Burma, from actual storefronts to pop up cafes on the street and I think we went to every single one for tea and chipati.

From Yangon, our pilgrimage took us to one of the most sacred sites in Burma: Golden Rock. To see it as an outsider is a contradictory experience. It is the most pilgrimaged site in the country. In fact, in almost every home we visited in Burma, there were photos of the family at Golden Rock. And we were told by many others that is the first place they would visit if "they could go anywhere in the world." In reality, it's a rock that somewhat seems to be balancing on the edge of a mountain covered in gold leaf, sacred because of its precarious position and the legend that strands of Buddha's hair are enclosed inside. It sounded strange enough for us to see for ourselves.

Getting to Golden Rock was a bit of a process (even more since we took the night train from Yangon which put us into town before sunrise). At 6am, we piled into the back of a pick up truck with about 45 pilgrims and one other tourist, and drove up a steep mountain pass completely at the mercy of the truck driver, and finally let out at the bottom of a smaller road. From here, it was a 45-minute walk up to the Golden Rock, unless you paid $10 for four Burmese to schlep you up the path like Cleopatra. Brendan was very tempted, but in the end we forged ahead on our own two feet. At the top, we saw the rock, which to us outsiders was pretty much just that. Plus, the government has built hotels, shops and restaurants around the Golden Rock site, so it has a very Disney-land like feel. But we have to admit that the view was incredible. It was the first strange religious site we'd seen, but certainly not the last.

The very next day in Mawlamein, we had our second encounter. The small sea-side town in Southern Burma is known for two things: a quiet, coastal getaway from Yangon and the largest reclining Buddha figure in the world. Yes, please. After seeing the reclining Buddha in Bangkok, covered in gold and ornately designed, we were prepared to be awed. Instead, we were a bit shocked when we pulled up and saw a four-story tall crumbling-concrete reclining Buddha that would look at home in cold-war era Russia. Or, as a villain's lair from Austin Powers. The truth is that it was just built hastily with poor quality materials in 2007. It's actually hollow so you can walk inside, but you have to share the space with a wax museum of graphic, violent scenes from we don't know where. A little creeped out, we left to catch our breath and sunset at a beautiful viewpoint above the town.

Ready to leave the giant Buddha behind us, we headed to Hpa'an by way of a scenic river ferry ride the next morning, unaware that the path to enlightenment was about to get real. There are a number of sites in Hpa'an worth visiting, mostly sacred caves scattered around town. Since we'd seen our fair share of caves in Laos, we opted for the "hike" up to Mt. Zwegabin monastery instead. This was one of those instances in our trip where a little research outside of the Lonely Planet could have gone a long way. The "hike" consisted of nearly 4,000 stone stairs, up the exposed face of the mountain. Since we came unprepared, we started climbing around 10am, late enough to put us in the heat of the day on the way up and down. To make matters worse, Brendan was just starting to feel a stomach bug and didn't have much in his stomach for sustenance. I swear, if the pilgrims we passed on the way up had not been so friendly and supportive, we might have turned back.

But everyone smiled and offered kind words, even though most of them were in worse shape than us. There were women who looked 50 to 60 years old walking in bare feet and carrying baskets of offerings all the way up. There were men dressed in their "Sunday best" under the heat of the sun. But you could tell just from looking at them that the journey was very much a part of the destination. That the struggle made the reward more complete somehow. It was the first time in Burma we truly understood the spirit of the pilgrims. And we felt blessed to be with them.

Finally at the top, we didn't have much time to reflect or recover before we were surrounded by locals asking to take photos of or with us. It had happened a few times since we'd arrived, but after that day, there must be sweaty pictures of us all over Burma. The monastery offered free lunch to visitors, so we sat with a Belgium couple and refueled before the even more grueling hike back down the 4,000 steps. For the next two days, we could barely walk.

Luckily, we had some entertainment in the form of Mr. All Night and his friends. We had met Mr. All Night (whose name is not actually "All Night" but sounds so much like it we laughed out loud the first time he said it and it stuck) a few days before when we played volleyball with a group of local men. They had invited us back for more games and beers, but since our bodies were so destroyed, we cheered from the sidelines and tried to drink double to make up for it. Mr. All Night, his brothers and his friends turned out to be some of our favorite people in Burma. They kept us laughing (painfully, I might add) for the whole night before we wobbled back to our guesthouse.

We took a few days off from the pilgrimage to recover and get our minds, bodies and spirits ready for the next sacred stop, the land of 2,000 temples: Bagan.

Are you happy?

March 05, 2013 by B + B in Burma, Southeast Asia

Of all the countries we've visited in SE Asia, Burma has been the most challenging and most rewarding.

The former is mostly due to the lack of tourism infrastructure and sparse creature comforts - intermittent power, rough roads, terrible hotels (especially among the budget options), virtually no internet, dust, dirt, grime, rat carnivals*, etc. It's nothing we can't handle, but the sum of it wears you down. Luckily, the good stuff makes it all worth it. And the best stuff in Burma is its people.

Despite a turbulent past and trying present, the Burmese people are wonderfully warm, generous, curious and personable. It's palpable, and we felt it the second we got off the plane in Yangon: smiles, cheerful greetings, conversations, invitations, games, spontaneous singing. We met people from all walks of life, with different backgrounds and different stories, but all over the country they asked us the same question: "Are you happy?". Not "Are you okay?" or "Do you need anything?", but always, without fail, "Are you happy?". And after spending time with so many of these amazing individuals, we think we know the reason. It's because, against all odds, after decades of civil war and oppression, and even in the face of struggle today, they choose to be happy.

We went trekking in Hsipaw, a small hillside town in Northern Burma, with Aike Teng, a.k.a., the happiest man on earth. He sang love songs as he hiked, cracked himself (and us) up with terrible jokes and kept us smiling the whole way. His contagious positive energy even kept me sane (and Brendan unscathed) when I got sick and had to trek four hours on an upset stomach. Aike Teng was born in a small mountain village and was working full days in the tea fields by the time he was nine. Calling it a hard life would be an understatement - out of the house before dawn to be in the treacherously steep tea fields by first light, hours of work in the hot sun and the long walk back to the village with baskets of freshly harvested tea leaves on his back. He went to school when his parents could afford to send him, but was mostly self-taught, reading and talking to any tourist who was willing. After his parents died, it fell to him to care for his two younger siblings. Two months ago, he told us through his trademark ear-to-ear smile, he got the opportunity of a lifetime to become a trekking guide for the growing number of tourists in Hsipaw. Now, he earns just enough money to care for his family and keep his younger brother and sister out of the fields and in school. And maybe one day, if he saves enough, he can marry the woman who inspires the love songs. Until then, he'll keep melting hearts from all over the world on the hills of Hsipaw, one smile at a time.

In Hpa'an, in the south of Burma, we stopped to watch a group of men playing volleyball in a small village just outside of town. Immediately, they invited us to play, leading to two hours of sweating, grunting and attempting to bring back old skills (not to mention several days of sore muscles afterwards). The men spoke about as much English as we spoke Burmese, but with the help of charades and a few elementary school kids who were learning some English in school, we spent two nights eating, drinking, "talking" and laughing with the men. They are from a military family, and are all still active in some way or another, from border patrol to senior leadership. With so much stigma attached to the Myanmar military, we bristled when we learned about their involvement in the organization that's been the cause of so much harm to the Burmese people. But, just like others we'd met, the men wanted to talk about their country, the good and the bad and the changes. They seemed aware of the failures of the past and optimistic about what the future would bring. And, they genuinely wanted to learn more about us (which led to my very Texan version of a US map). The brothers were gracious hosts and we're pretty sure we have an open invitation to stay at their home next time we're in southern Burma. We got a number, but never quite figured out how communication would work over the phone. It didn't seem to matter much at the time, and honestly, it still doesn't. If we showed up at their door in two years, even if they had no idea who we were, they'd invite us in.

Mr. Toe, an English teacher and tour guide in Yangon, stopped us on the street for a quick chat. When we told him we were from the US, he invited us to tea to talk more about Obama's visit to Burma. He, like so many others we met, were overwhelmed and grateful for the visit. Mr. Toe actually attended the President's speech at the University in Yangon and gushed about how Obama learned Burmese for the occasion (hello and thank you, from what we've been told) and how he kissed "The Lady", Aung San Suu Kyi on the cheek. He felt as though Obama was speaking directly to the people, a friend and ally in the struggle. He also attributed many of the recent changes to the city and country to the visit, or at least what it symbolized: Burma exposed and engaged with the outside world. After the politics were set aside, he proceeded to engage the outside world himself by going through our Lonely Planet page by page to give us recommendations for our next stops. No agenda, no sales pitch, just advice from one friend (er, stranger) to another.

On the train in Yangon, we rode in a car with two Burmese police officers. At first we were a bit nervous, not sure about local customs or comfort zones. But, after ten minutes, the officers had us rolling with laughter. They showed us their weapons, slingshots and pellets, and acted out an arrest with another passenger on the train. They shared food and tea and by the end of the three hour ride our stomachs hurt from laughing and eating too much.

We met a PhD outside of Mandalay who came from a family of academics. In the 80s, the government saw an enemy in intellectuals and responded. Universities were shut down, incentives were given for leaving high school to work at state funded farms and scholars were made an example of. The PhD was forced to abandon his current role as a scientist and find work as an admin. His brother was arrested and sentenced to an indefinite prison term for an undefined crime. Eight years later, the brother was released, found a way to leave the country and never looked back. The PhD, on the other hand, stayed. He said he knew his country would one day change and wanted to be a part of it. Standing with him in his museum, back in academia, the smile on his face let us know he was happy about the decision. He sees progress being made from the inside out by people like him, using their strength of character over force. And the fact that he can discuss the past, present and future openly with two Americans made him almost giddy.

On our last morning, walking the U Bien bridge in Mandalay, we met a monk who has devoted the last 18 years of his life to learning and teaching the lessons of the Buddha. He comes to the bridge every morning to exercise and practice his English with tourists. We sat with him for nearly an hour discussing his life, country and beliefs and answering questions about ours. At the end of the conversation, he invited us to his monastery for the afternoon. Brendan and I looked at each other and silently shared a wish, "Can we change our flight?" We were tired, dirty, both on the tail end of being sick and very much looking forward to the comforts of Bangkok, but with a single encounter, we were willing to put all that aside and stay just one more day. Looking back, it was a fitting farewell.

We will never forget the people we met in Burma or their stories, these and so many others. They epitomize strength, generosity, humility, innocence and perseverance and we are humbled by their kind hearts and open minds. For the last five decades, they have survived civil war, military rule, corruption, civil oppression, poverty and global isolation. And, while change is happening, it's a slow struggle rife with complication. The Burmese people have every reason to be angry and cynical, but they choose to be happy. And the effect is contagious.

Back in Kenya, in the first few weeks of our trip, we met a group of Maasai grandmothers who touched our lives deeply, giving so much of themselves when they have so little. Now, with little more than a month until we head home, we are reminded yet again to think hard about our priorities, perspectives and what makes us happy.

*Rat carnival: Dozens of acrobatic rats outside our window our first night in Burma. By far our worst hotel experience of the trip. At one point during the night, I was just crying silently into my pillow. Little did I know, Brendan was doing the same ;).

Angkor What?

February 20, 2013 by B + B in Cambodia

The most common misconception about Cambodia's top tourist attraction is that all the fuss is about a single structure, Angkor Wat. In truth, Angkor is the largest preindustrial city in the world, made up of more than 1,000 structures across nearly 400 square miles, comparable to the size of modern-day Los Angeles. Even the name itself disputes the rumor; "Angkor" translates to "Holy City" from its original Khmer. In its heyday, Angkor served as the seat of power for the Khmer Empire, supporting nearly one million citizens for more than seven centuries before the city fell.

Taking a break on the scenic trip back from Beng Maelea, which is about 80km from Angkor Wat.

Happy to be at Bayon temple, one of our favorites at Angkor

Bottom line, while Angkor Wat is not to be missed, visiting Angkor is so much more. Most of the two-million-plus annual tourists follow a well-established set of circuits over a recommended timeframe of two to three days. This affords you cool mornings of temple touring with pool time and naps in the afternoon before sunset. To do that, you have to buy a $60 three-day pass, plus pay a driver (unless you are really ambitious and hire a bike) to shuttle you around to see the highlights. Or, you could go the road less taken, a.k.a., our road, and cram everything into one action-packed, sunrise to sunset, 13-hour, 10-temple, 1-river shrine, big-and-little circuit, Angkor extravaganza. Throw in some travelers' tummy problems and you have yourself a memorable day of sightseeing. There are two main benefits to this approach: 1.) give yourself more time to explore Siem Reap, off the tourist track; and 2.) save some money on the less expensive $20 one-day pass (the inability to eat anything also helps with the cash-flow).

Beng Maelea is far from the crowds and renovation efforts of the main Angkor temples. The jungle is slowly over-taking the temple, giving it a unique, just-discovered feel.

We're pretty sure these were some members of the Chinese Mafia. They were vicious and had an unrelenting drive to take as many pictures as possible without letting others  in on the fun. — We're pretty sure these were some members of the Chinese Mafia. They were vicious and had an unrelenting drive to take as many pictures as possible without letting others in on the fun.

Man versus nature at Beng Maelea. For now, they seem to have reached a beautiful compromise.

The day was exhausting to say the least - we went home a bit cranky and ready to boycott any sightseeing for at least a few weeks. But, the temples were stunning and after some rest, we truly appreciated the experience. Angkor highlights included the dark and mysterious Bayon temple and the more remote, untouched jungle temple Beng Maelea (which is far outside of the city, is not part of the "Angkor" ticket and warranted a separate day trip). Our grand finale of the day was sunset at the famed Angkor Wat. Despite our snobbery, waning stamina and the thousands of other tourists, we were impressed. It's a beautiful and interesting temple, full of ornate details and stories and very different than its counterparts.

Delayed sunrise at Ta Prohm, after the lake debacle was cleared up

Banteay Srei, one of the best-preserved structures in Angkor

We were looking especially forward to sunrise, but there was some sort of communication error between us and our driver, Chamnum, which resulted in him taking us, as requested, away from all the tourists. Unfortunately, there were also no temples. We waited for nearly 30 minutes in the pre-dawn darkness only to find sun rising over a man-made pond with a road in the background. Not quite the magical experience we expected when the alarm went off at 3:45am.

No stone left uncarved. The work and craftsmanship in the Angkor temples are impressive

Bayon temple side entrance, blocked by yet another extended photoshoot

Siem Reap also held some pleasant surprises, including the BEST Mexican food in SE Asia. As a Texan, I am proud to say that my first meal out of the sickbed was nachos and fajitas, with a sip or two of Brendan's margarita. Not the smartest choice, but it was good enough to risk. If you are ever in Siem Reap and need a taste of home, check out El Camino. Que rico!

If This is Koh Rong, We Don't Want to be Right

February 07, 2013 by B + B in Cambodia

After taking more buses than you can shake a sore back at down the length of Vietnam and into Cambodia, we were ready for some serious relaxation. Five days of complete disconnect - away from buses, schedules, planning, internet, sightseeing and distractions. No obligations and no responsibilities other than walking from bed to the beach and perhaps to the bar should we feel thirsty. Luckily for us, Cambodia's coastline and surrounding islands offer the beauty of Thailand without the crowds or development, the perfect combination for people like us trying to get away from it all. Our official R&R destination: Koh Rong.

Koh Rong is a small island about 2.5 hours by fishing boat from the Cambodian coastal town of Sihanouksville (which is a bit of a dump unless you're into sex tourism or the creepy old white men it attracts). It's as close to a deserted island as you can get without sacrificing the necessities for total relaxation - food, drink and hammocks. Other than that, it's pretty basic. The island has no electricity, roads or running water, and the handful of bungalow "resorts" are really just bare-bones bamboo huts on the beach. In other words, it's pretty perfect. At least for now. The island is currently under a 99-year lease with a development company that has every right to start building 5-star, all-inclusive resorts on the pristine white sand; but (and this is a big but), they haven't yet.

The beaches on Koh Rong, especially Soksan, are the main attraction and where we spent most of our time. Soksan is the single-most quintessentially beautiful, white-sand, clear-water beach either of us has ever laid eyes on. The surf is almost non-existent, so you can literally float in the water for hours without being disturbed. The water is so clear, you can see straight to the bottom at any depth. The sand is so soft, you don't even need a towel to get comfortable. The beach is so deserted that the only company you'll find are a few island dogs. And the view is so picture-perfect that you're glad to see a few downed trees interrupting the scene (and at times your stroll down the beach) to make it seem real and not curated. At certain times of year, you can even swim with phosphorescent plankton right off the shore.

Our goal of compete rest and relaxation was accomplished in every way. We were lazy. We read. We swam. We slept. We hammocked. We ate and drank. We beached. We explored the island on the only mode of transportation available - foot. And we met some great people with whom we'd be happy to find ourselves stranded on a deserted island again.

Thank you Koh Rong. Please hold out a little longer until you become Koh Pi Pi.

Hanoi to Saigon in 14 Days

February 06, 2013 by B + B in Vietnam

When you're traveling on a budget, buses are simply a fact of life. They are the cheapest way to get from point A to point B, so when you have limited money and flexible time, you find yourself on them more often than you might like. This was never more true for us than in Vietnam. After burning a week in and around Hanoi, we headed south, giving ourselves fourteen days to make it from the country's northern capital to Saigon and onwards into Cambodia.

Leg #1: Halong City to Ninh Binh / Bus Type: Minibus / Duration: 6 hours
Our lucky day in the sun at Halong was the last we'd see for awhile. We left the bay area along with two other couples from the "junk" trip and headed to our next destination, Ninh Binh, in the rain. Ninh Binh isn't really known for much aside from its outdoor activities (it's the "Halong Bay of the mainland"), and with the bad weather making even being outside less than ideal, there wasn't much we could do. So, we holed up in our hotel room, which was mercifully nice enough to spend a whole day in, watched episodes of the "Wire" and worked on the blog. We only braved the rain (and the cold, I should mention) for food - a delicious duck meal that we got to enjoy in the company of the restaurant's owner. The "excitement" of the trip came when we thought Brendan's shoes were stolen after someone persuaded him to remove them in the restaurant (very common at homes and businesses in SE Asia) only to disappear out the door with them without a word. Thankfully, the shoes were returned about 30 minutes later, squeaky clean and with a price tag for the unsolicited shine. With nothing keeping us, we headed out of town that night for Hue on our first Vietnamese sleeper bus.

Leg #2: Nihn Bihn to Hue / Bus Type: Overnight Sleeper / Duration: 13 hours
The Vietnamese sleeper bus is one of the more comfortable ways to travel in SE Asia. It's not perfect - for example, the sleeper seats were built for tiny Asians and are a bit small for us larger and longer Westerners - but it beats sitting up for cross-country trips any day. Our guesthouse manager in Ninh Binh actually lied to the bus company - telling them that we were old and decrepit - to score us some of the best seats (bottom row, front of the bus). We hobbled a bit getting up the steps for good measure and settled in for the ride to Hue. Hue was a huge surprise for us. We had not even planned on visiting the old Imperial capital, but were convinced by a fellow traveler to check it out. It ended up being one of our favorite stops in Vietnam. First of all, we stayed in a wonderfully friendly and quirky guesthouse (Hue Nino) that immediately felt like family. We spent our first afternoon with one of the girls who worked there, pedaling furiously on bicycles after her motorbike while she shared some of the secret spots of "her city" with us. To see the popular stuff, we hired motorbikes (with drivers, we're still a bit timid of driving scooters and the Vietnamese traffic is, as explained, crazy). The rain let up just enough for us to enjoy a few days outside and we successfully sought out a good bottle of wine and strong Internet signal for Christmas Skype-ing with family. All-in-all, Hue was an unexpected treat.

Leg #3: Hue to Hoi An / Bus Type: Regular Sitting / Duration: 5 hours
Hoi An is the crown-jewel of the Vietnamese coast. It's a picturesque colonial town, UNESCO World Heritage Site and beach resort all in one, making it one of the most popular destinations in the country - and we were there during the single-most popular week of the year. The crowds and rain may have dampened the experience a bit, but we definitely could see what all the fuss is about. There is just something about Hoi An that makes you like it - it's very charming. Brendan got to see a bit more of the "real Hoi An" while he was strengthening his already growing skills during a half-day photography course. We snuck in some beach time between the frequent showers, but were starting to feel the effects of the rain. We searched for sun online and hopped the first bus possible to find it.

Leg #4: Hoi An to Mui Ne / Bus Type: Overnight Sleeper / Duration: 18 hours
Mui Ne is known more for its activities in the water than it's beach (which is somewhat non-existent). It's one of the best spots in the world for wind-surfing and kite-boarding, bringing talent from all around the world to enjoy the perfect conditions. Even though we planned to keep our feet firmly on the sand, Mui Ne was just what we needed. There was sun, seafood, a few sights and not much else. Total relaxation. Maybe a bit too much, because when New Year's Eve came around, we got all dressed up with high hopes of saying goodbye to an amazing 2012 and ushering in an exciting 2013 in style, only to fall asleep fifteen minutes before the countdown. R & R accomplished; epic New Year's celebration failed.

Leg #5: Mui Ne to Saigon / Bus Type: Regular Sitting / Duration: 5 hours
Saigon, as mentioned in our last post, was one of our favorite cities in Vietnam. It's big and noisy, but the energy is contagious and the people watching is top-notch. It's also home to the War Remnants Museum, which made for an intense day. It's difficult to witness tragedy of any sort, but even harder when the place you call home is directly involved. B and I had a quiet walk home and then a night full of conversation about war, motivations, and America's role, outlook and reputation in the world, then and now. If we get brave, we'll post more of those thoughts later.

Leg #6: Saigon to Sihanouksville (Cambodia) / Bus Type: Overnight Cambodian Sleeper / Duration: 18 hours
Our introduction to Cambodia was a bit rough, thanks to the Cambodian sleeper and it's unique design choices. The seats are two to a side with no separation, meaning if you're traveling alone, you better hope your neighbor is normal, small and smells nice. It was a good thing that B and I like to cuddle because the "bed-chairs" are made to fit one thirteen-year-old. Not a comfortable ride, but it got us safely across the border - with no bag search of any kind, I might add - and delivered us in one piece to the Cambodian coast.

All said and done, including the trek and trip to Halong, we were on buses for a grand total of 70+ hours, accounting for nearly one-seventh of our time in Vietnam. They say the journey is the destination, but I don't think they've ever tried to do Hanoi to Saigon in 14 days.

Happy Water and Halong Bay

February 06, 2013 by B + B in Vietnam

From Hanoi, we planned two excursions. One was to the hills and tea farms of Mai Chau Valley for some trekking and the other was to the biggest tourist attraction in Vietnam, Halong Bay.

In order to free up their hands for fishing and other uses, people in remote Vietnam paddle boats with their feet.

We were optimistic about the trekking, ready to get out of the city, away from the crowds and into fresh air to sweat off some noodles. Most people head to Sapa for trekking, but we had concerns about over-tourism and ethical treatment of the hill tribe guides and home stays. Our travel agent suggested the less-visited Mai Chau as a good alternative for us, promising fewer tourists and more authentic home stays. And, they were right. We didn't see a single other tourist outside of our group the entire three days we were in Mai Chau and the home stays were a highlight.

Vietnam war vet and jubilant home stay father, Mr. Sow decided it would be fun to stand across the room and look at each other through Binoculars. — Vietnam war vet and jubilant home stay father, Mr. Sow decided it would be fun to stand across the room and look at each other through Binoculars.

We ended up doing more eating and drinking than trekking, but I guess that fits into the "authenticity" of the experience since that is what the locals like to do most. Mr. Sow, the patriarch of our second home stay, introduced us to the local rice wine, also known as "happy water". It must be aptly named because Mr. Sow drinks his share and is quite possibly the happiest man on earth. He is entertained by everything, smiles constantly and force feeds the happy water to guests with enthusiasm that cannot be denied. We shared our toys with him, and in return, he offered his to us (although Brendan was the only one brave enough to accept). Sitting around, laughing and taking shots of homemade happiness while Mr. Sow and Brendan smoked tobacco out of a huge, handmade water pipe in the middle of the stilted bamboo hut is a memory I will not soon forget. Mr. Sow made us remember to appreciate the small stuff - a good meal, some drink, a nice smoke and friendly company. And then he promptly helped us forget everything else.

A few days later we headed from the hills to the sea for a two-night expedition to Bai Tu Long Bay and the UNESCO World Heritage Site, Halong Bay. Our day at Bai Tu Long was quiet. The ocean was so still it looked like a lake and the fog hung low over the water. Brendan and I spent most of the four-hour boat ride on the bow, listening to music and taking it all in. It was eerily beautiful, like the opening scene in a mystery novel. And it was a great companion for some quiet reflection. We stayed on a small military island for the night, woke up for sunrise and the fish market the next morning and headed back to shore after a quick bike ride to a rainy beach. It rained the whole way back, and our hopes of having a nice day at Halong were dimmed. But luckily, Halong surprised us... In more ways than one.

We had booked an overnight stay on a traditional "junk", basically a modern version of an ancient Chinese sailing ship with sleeper cabins (probably sounds cooler than it is). You can go extreme budget or five-star and, true to our trip style, we landed somewhere in the middle. The sun came out as we were leaving the harbor and by some miracle, our captain pointed us away from the hundreds of boats already making their way out to the bay. The draw of Halong is the dramatic rock formations protruding from the sea in every direction. The drawback is that it's extremely over-touristed - more than 500 boats leave everyday from just one of the four harbors. But, our operator somehow managed to find a quiet route, allowing us to enjoy the truly magnificent spectacle in relative peace. It's a quick trip - out in the afternoon, anchored at night, and back the next morning, but it's one worth doing. Halong is beautiful and best experienced, if possible, away from the crowds and disco cruises. And, if you happen to find yourself in the masses or on a bad weather day, make sure you have some happy water handy.

Another Month, Another Visa!

January 18, 2013 by B + B in Burma, Southeast Asia

Two months ago, we landed in Bangkok for the first time, introducing not only a second continent but also the second half of our 7½-month, once-in-a-lifetime trip. Mixed with the excitement of new adventures was a small but persistent voice constantly reminding us that we were on the back half of our journey. Where had the time gone? Were we ready for the real world? Did we make the most out of our time? Would we have regrets? Were there still things to do/see/eat? The simple reality that we won’t be able to do this again in the foreseeable (if ever) future came crashing in… hard.

So, we did what most mature, logical adults would do. We bickered. We got annoyed. We fought over small stuff that didn't matter or have anything to do with the trip or going home. And then, when we were almost at our wits end with each other, we talked. We gained a bit of perspective and understanding from each other and we started working on ways to satisfy the idealist in me (let's travel forever) and the realist in Brendan (that’d be nice, but how).

In the end, we figured out a way to stretch our existing budget to give us some breathing room for the places we still wanted to visit (Cambodia, Southern Thailand and Indonesia) and add in a new destination. Win-win-win!

Moral of the story… WE EXTENDED OUT TRIP BY A MONTH & WE’RE GOING TO BURMA!

Waiting in line at the Myanmar Embassy in Bangkok to pick up our visas. We applied in-person two days earlier - the whole process was pretty smooth.

We're official! B definitely lit the fire under the whole Burma trip and I'm so glad he did. We're lucky to be able to see it now while it's still changing and finding its way.

Dollar, dollar bills, yo! Burma has no ATMs and only accepts pristine US dollar bills. We scoured Bangkok today in search of crisp greenbacks and a little protection for the road... Can't be a baller without the Power Ranger pencil box / money holde… — Dollar, dollar bills, yo! Burma has no ATMs and only accepts pristine US dollar bills. We scoured Bangkok today in search of crisp greenbacks and a little protection for the road... Can't be a baller without the Power Ranger pencil box / money holder.

Note: It's funny how a little can go a long way... Since officially extending the trip, we have gone from fear of the real world to being genuinely excited about going home. We can't wait to see our families and friends and are looking forward to starting a new adventure stateside.

How to Cross the Street in Hanoi & Saigon

January 17, 2013 by B + B in SE Asia, Vietnam

The traffic in Vietnam's two largest cities, Hanoi and Saigon, is so hectic that most hotels and guesthouses actually provide instructions to foreign visitors on how to cross the street. The chaos is a combination of factors - the non-existence of lanes, the lack of rules (or perhaps enforcement) on speed, direction, passing, turning and traffic signals, and the fact that everyone on the road, with few exceptions, is driving a scooter. Thousands and thousands of scooters bob and weave around each other in all different directions, dodging street vendors, the occasional taxi, rickshaws (cyclos) and pedestrians. There are cross walks and "walk now" signs, but they seem to be for show only - both the cars and the people do what they want. So, if what you want is to cross the street, they offer this friendly advice:

Find locals and attach yourself to them, literally. Shadow them across the street at an uncomfortably close distance.
If no locals are around, it's up to you. Take a deep breath. Be brave.
Choose a crossing point - one spot is as good (a.k.a. bad) as the next, so just go for it.
Never look more than 5 feet in front of you, and never look behind. Immediacy is survival.
Walk slowly and at a steady pace. Resist the very strong urge to run and/or close your eyes.
Once you've made it to the other side, look before you celebrate... the sidewalk is also a road. And it's likely that there's a scooter coming your way.

The two cities bookended our time in Vietnam, starting with the capitol, Hanoi, and ending with Saigon, officially renamed Ho Chi Minh City to honor the much loved "Uncle Ho" after the war. They love him so much, in fact, that despite his wishes to be cremated, they had his body preserved and put on display for all to see. Once a year, he goes to Russia for a little work and then returns to Hanoi for the thousands of pilgrims and tourists who visit daily. We saw him the week he was back from his annual touch up and he was looking good.

Tradition meets modern, a common mix in Vietnam.

Aisles of pickled goodies at the Chinatown Market in Saigon.

Taking a much needed break from the chaos of Saigon.

Both cities can be overwhelming... Getting into Hanoi was an eye-opener, like "this is what an Asian city is." Bangkok has traffic, but there is a rhythm about it. It's settled into itself. It makes sense. Hanoi and Saigon do not. But, we liked both cities. The small cobblestone streets of Hanoi's old town have a certain charm, every street named after the thing it sells. Shoe street has nothing but shoes. Leather Street, nothing but leather. Silver street is full of shiny jewelry and trinkets. And so on. In Saigon, the streets are wider and the stores less segregated, but the energy is palpable and constant. The buzz, food and people watching made it one of our favorite places in Vietnam.

Street concert in Hanoi, scooter-room only.

Once you get over your fear of the scooters possibly running over you, it is incredible to sit back and watch a whole world unfold around you on two wheels. People do everything on their scooters. We saw a woman breast feeding, couples showing affection, friends having conversations across lanes of traffic while in motion. We saw entire families of four or five on one scooter. We saw people eating and drinking and sleeping. And we could not believe the things that these scooters hauled - trucks' worth of wooden planks, pigs, produce, boxes, crates, etc. All in the madness of traffic. If they made a reality show about life on scooters, we'd watch it.

We're slightly terrified to imagine a Chinese or Indian city, but for now, Hanoi and Saigon, with all of their non-stop energy and army of scooters is our picture of crazy Asia.

Memorable Moments in Luang Prabang

January 10, 2013 by B + B in Laos, Southeast Asia

Sunrise has become one of our favorite times of day. We arrived in Luang Prabang just as the sun was rising, fresh off a twelve-hour overnight bus from the border. The world was just waking up, but the city itself was already in full swing. The morning market bustled with business, doling out the daily ingredients for the city's restaurants and guesthouses. Monks slowly walked the streets around the temples, accepting offerings of rice, vegetables and money from the dozens of locals lining the sidewalks, men standing, women always sitting. Cafes, thankfully, opened their doors and offered the handful of early-bird, bleary-eyed tourists a hot cup of coffee and a front row seat. Despite the activity, it was quiet. There were no raised voices and no horns. It was almost like they were trying to keep it a secret, working busily in hushed tones to preserve the morning peace before the day interrupted.

I think it was times like this, individual moments, that stood out for us in Luang Prabang. The city itself is nice enough and we had some good times, but neither of us fell in love with it. It's the most popular tourist city in Laos, and we can see why. Luang Prabang is beautiful, with colorful colonial architecture, cobblestone streets and sidewalk cafes nestled between two rivers that make you feel like you're in France instead of one of the poorest countries in Asia. But, it's almost too quaint. Too curated. It doesn't have the grit that we've come to appreciate in this area - one too many cafes and a few too little street stalls (in the end it always comes back to food).

Since it's such a picturesque city, we'll let the photos do the talking. Here are our favorite moments in Luang Prabang, Laos.

Morning Market & Tamarind Cooking Class

Mekong River at Sunset and Pac Ou Caves

Kwang Si Waterfalls

Asian Bear Sanctuary

The Elephant in the Room

January 09, 2013 by B + B in Laos

In SE Asia, elephants are as much a part of the typical "tourist experience" as temples and full-moon parties. But for us animal-loving outsiders, it's a contradictory and confusing industry. In Thailand, we saw a lot of the bad side - over-tourism enabled by unethical operators who care about the almighty dollar (or Baht) more than the elephant's health or happiness. We also got a small glimpse of the good side - tourism, done right(ish), as a way to ensure an elephant's place in a society that has domesticated elephants for industry for centuries.

The stunning Elephant Conservation Center.

Still curious (and conveniently in Laos, the "land of 1,000,000 elephants"), we decided to go spend more time with our favorite gentle giants to get the scoop. Counter to Thailand, we had no problem choosing the "operator" we wanted to visit. The Elephant Conservation Center in Sayabouri Province, in partnership with Elephant Asia, is home to the first elephant hospital, breeding program and nursery in Laos and just opened its doors to tourists in 2012 as a way to monetarily support its efforts. The 180-acre sanctuary is set on some of the most beautiful land we have seen in Asia - and matches up to pretty much everywhere else. And, no one knows about it (yet). They don't advertise through the hundreds of travel agents in Luang Prabang, there is no shuttle that comes to fetch you in the city - it's a fend-for-yourself four-hour local bus ride out to the nearest town, a tuk tuk drive to a ferry dock and a boat ride across a glassy reservoir - and they are buried online behind the more popular elephant camps, ethnic trekking and tour opportunities in Laos. Some of that is on purpose - tourism is a means to an end for them, not a money maker. They want small groups (maximum of twelve, I think) and minimal impact for the elephants. And, some of it is just because they are new at this whole tourism thing.

We were searching for the truth, or at least a little insight, but after three days and two nights, we were still scratching our heads. Not because the ECC didn't give good information - they did - but because the reality is complicated and hard to swallow.

Elephants are bathed in the lake twice per day. Witnessing such beautiful animals play in the water with this as the backdrop is quite the memorable experience.

To start with, there's the staggering reality that Laos, once the land of 1,000,000 elephants is now home to fewer than 1,000, with nearly fifty percent of those domesticated and employed either in tourism or logging. And, the death rate currently exceeds the birth rate two to one. The simple fact is that if something isn't done now, elephants could be completely extinct in Laos in the next few centuries.

Which brings us to hard reality number two. The immediate solutions can't just focus on a better future for elephants in Laos. They have to make sure there is a future at all, which means living with a few things that seem counter to the cause. For example, the breeding program at ECC offers owners of domesticated animals - usually tour operators or loggers - the opportunity to breed their elephants with a male at the center knowing full-well that the baby will also be employed in those industries. They stipulate that the mother and baby stay at the center until they're healthy enough to leave and actually pay the mahout to live on site with their elephants during the late-pregnancy and early months after the birth. This process is groundbreaking in Laos, typically takes two years and drastically improves the chances of a healthy life for both mother and baby. But when the time comes, they are both back to work. It just doesn't seem right. Another example... The ECC provides mobile clinics and mahout training to remote logging villages in Laos, providing health care and best-practices in hopes the elephants' quality of life improves, but without changing its circumstances. Wait.. What?! These facets of the program were absolutely mind-boggling to us. How can ECC support logging? Domestication from birth? Don't they want the elephants to be "free"? Or at least retired from a life of forced labor?

The answer is of course, yes, ideally elephants would be frolicking freely in the wild without a care in the world outside of meals and mating. But, hard realities number three and four show why it's not that easy. First of all, there are people involved. Whole communities of people whose livelihoods depend on elephant labor. Families and children who would be without shelter, food and clothing if not for it. Secondly, there is currently no comparable alternative for the logging communities and the government has been unwilling to help change that fact, despite the hardship of logging on the elephants and the environment. In fact, the government seems to not only ignore, but actually impede progress, going so far as seizing NGO equipment for personal profit, limiting state contracts and funding to the bare minimum, and regulating private donation and grant receipts in the extreme. To complicate matters more, if the government were to wake up tomorrow and do what we're all thinking they should do - enact legislation against logging and provide new industry for the loggers - the elephants would be left behind in the "progress" with no where to go.

Guests at ECC get to ride elephants, but for no longer than an hour. After being taught the different ways to get onto the elephant, you ride the traditional way - bareback.

Which brings us to the fifth and final hard truth. The near-future alternative is tourism. Just like they've experienced in Thailand (where logging is prohibited by the government), land is in short supply, domesticated elephants are without skills to survive in the wild even if land wasn't an issue, and protected areas cost money. A lot of money. Without massive, most likely unrealistic support from both the government and the private sector, these elephants will have to earn their keep. And, as we've already discussed, the tourism industry is also riddled with complication.

Sunset view from our bamboo bungalow at ECC.

The good news is that there are good people trying to do it right. Programs like ECC's focus on education and understanding versus cheap thrills and a quick pay check. And, it seems like travelers are becoming more conscious of how their choices can affect change. With continued efforts from both sides and some massive changes in government outlook and outreach, the future for elephants in SE Asia will not only be ensured, but look a lot brighter. Even without the rose-colored glasses.

Monkeying Around in Laos

December 27, 2012 by B + B in Laos, SE Asia

The border crossing at Chiang Khong / Huay Xia was so easy it almost felt like we did something wrong. Apparently, a lot of people get scammed into hiring people to "help" them across, but we hadn't done enough research to even know that was a possibility, so we just wandered around the dock until we saw something that resembled passport control, got our exit stamps, hung out by the river until a boatman offered us a ride across the Mekong and then stumbled up the Laos side and upon the only official looking counter in site. $30, two photos and a stamp later, we were officially Laos tourists.

Coming into Laos, we didn't really know what to expect. We had heard mixed reviews from other travelers - some loved it, some said we'd be begging to be back in Thailand. Feedback tended to boil down to two simple observations - infrastructure and communication are crap but the land and people are beautiful. Not too bad. Plus, we were up for a little adventure. We decided to keep it simple, stick to a somewhat limited geography and get out in nature as much as possible.

It worked. By our second day in-country, we were trekking through the jungle, flying over the canopy of the tallest trees in Laos and sleeping in a treehouse 90 ft above the ground that you could only get into or out of via zip line. We spent three days in Bokeo Nature Reserve living out our childhood "Swiss Family Robinson" fantasies, left mostly to our own devises in the jungle with harnesses, carabiners and full reign of the zip lines. But it wasn't all play... We had to work for it! The hiking was serious - long, steep, muddy and sweaty. Our guide, Neu, kept taking us off trail, so we were literally bushwhacking through the jungle. It worked out well for us because we got a trek and a zip line experience for the price of one! The only problem was that there were creepy crawlies, mainly leeches that were very attracted to Brendan. Everyone in our group had one or two over the three days, but they seemed to specifically target Brendan - at one point, he had six on his foot at one time.

Neu, our Ninja guide, with a pot of Tea for the treehouse.

We got really lucky and ended up in a treehouse with great people, five Dutch and two other Americans (some of the few we've met along the way). We all agreed to make the most of our days, so we were up at dawn and in at dark or even after, which meant night zip lining! We were a treehouse family for the three days, with Nue, our jungle mama zipping in food and tea three times a day and indulging us in our never ending desire to zip and search for the elusive Gibbon, the reason we were all there in the first place.

The Gibbon is a monkey thought to be extinct in Laos until about 10 years ago, when scientists rediscovered the species in the Bokeo area. Since then, the Gibbon Experience has been using eco-tourism to help protect the natural jungle in Northwest Laos and repopulate the Gibbon. The zip lining and treehouse apartments are supposed to give you the full experience of living in the canopy, just like the Gibbons who often never touch the ground in their lifetime. They live in families and every morning, the male sings to his mate and children to keep the family close.

And, the very last day after hearing the Gibbons whale-like cries every morning, we finally got our first glimpse of a family high in the trees. After learning more about the very human-like Gibbons and spending time in their world, we're glad someone like the Gibbon Experience is around to help them out.

Chillin' in Chiang Rai

December 26, 2012 by B + B

Our first impression of Chiang Rai was not a good one. We had no idea where our guesthouse was, so we accepted an offer from a tuk tuk driver to take us there from the bus station for 60 baht ($3). He proceeded to drive three blocks before stopping in front of our final destination. He must have seen us coming a mile away. Luckily, the rest of Chiang Rai seemed more in line with the Thailand we knew and loved. To be honest, we took it pretty easy and got a lot of work done on the blog. We knew we wouldn't have reliable internet in Laos, so we said we wouldn't leave Thailand until we caught up. That didn't quite happen, but we made good headway and actually moved the blog into SE Asia (we were still working on Africa content!).

We did make time for a little fun, though. We got to Chiang Rai on the full moon, just in time for Loy Krathong celebrations. Unfortunately, it poured that night, so paper lanterns and floating candles did not have the best chance for success. As any small town would, Chiang Rai stayed strong and rescheduled the festivities for the following night, including a parade around the main streets of town. Everyone got really into it, the floats were amazing and the night finished without hitch or a drop of rain... But it was nothing compared to the hippies and high-altitude energy of Crested Butte's 4th of July Parade!

Chiang Rai has the best markets in Thailand, especially the Saturday walking market. Most of the markets we've seen offer different variations of the same theme (same-same as the Thais would say), but this one felt totally different. It also has all the food organized into a food court of sorts, which was fun and communal. We got offered more food by our table mates, which oddly has happened a lot for us in Thailand... We must look hungry. The night market was also interesting and worth mentioning because that was where we ate our first bugs in Asia. Silkworms, we think. And they weren't that bad.

Our one "sight" in Chiang Rai turned out to be really interesting and an amazing photo opportunity for B. The White Temple is a modern Buddhist/Hindu temple designed by a contemporary Thai artist and really makes a statement. Before entering the temple, you must walk over a moat of condemned souls - dozens of statues of men, women and monsters reaching up from the pits in anguish trying to escape their fate. Beyond the moat lies the pristine White Temple, or salvation. But even this holds contradictory messages. The most interesting part was a full wall mural inside the temple that includes a collection of false idols, including everything from gasoline (coming out of the mouth of a dragon held by Osama Bin Laden and George W.) to Kung Fu Panda. It was really interesting to view as a Westerner and from our perspective, pretty insightful as well. At the very least, it sparks conversation and is not boring.

Our partners in crime for a lot of the fun stuff was a wonderful couple from New Zealand who were on their way home after two-years of traveling and working their way around the world. We bonded over beers, travel stories and fears of returning to reality - we're already getting cold feet and they were nervous, to say the least. We've met a lot of people along the way, but there was something special about Rod and Jacqui that rubbed off on us. They have promised an open door when we get to New Zealand (not on this trip, but someday) and we will gladly take them up on it. Anyone up for New Zealand in 2014?

Christmas just isn't the same without you

December 24, 2012 by B + B

It's Christmas morning here in Hue, Vietnam and over the last few days, Brendan and I have realized one thing. For us, Christmas is not Christmas without family.

Christmas is surprisingly everywhere around us here in SE Asia. Storefronts and guesthouses are decorated, there are lights all around the streets, all the restaurants are playing Christmas tunes, we heard Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas" coming out of a bar last night (I made Brendan stand and wait until the whole song was over while I danced around and sang) and we even saw three or four Santas wondering around town spreading Christmas cheer. But, it still doesn't feel like Christmas.

Because for us, Christmas is about family. It's about putting the angel on top of the tree, or snow shoeing out to cut one down. It's about Christmas Eve lasagna and prime rib. It's about sleeping in the same room with your sisters to wait for Santa or waking up with your brother to catch the first lift of the day. It's about the excitement of having someone open your gift and about trying your best (and failing) to hide your expression when you open something that misses the mark ;). It's about laughing until you cry and hearing stories you've heard a hundred times before. And it's about simply being together with the people you love most.

We spent some time this morning just looking through the blog and talking about all of the amazing experiences we've had this year and can't believe this is our life right now. What a different year it's been. We are so lucky to be doing what we're doing. And to be doing it together. But, we miss our families and our friends and just wanted to say that today is not the same without you.

We love you. Merry Christmas.

The Best Noodles You'll Ever Eat Are in Mae Salong

December 24, 2012 by B + B

After nearly a month in Thailand, the time had come for us to say goodbye to our favorite (albeit first) SE Asian country and move onward into Laos. Our 30-day visas were running out, so we knew we needed to cross the border within a week. We decided the Chiang Khong / Huay Xai crossing on the Mekong River (which forms the border of the two countries) was the best option, and that we had some time to play between leaving Chiang Mai and getting our exit stamps. A little research and a few Singha Beers later, we committed to travel North through Chiang Dao and Mae Salong before heading East to use Chiang Rai as a gateway to the border crossing at Chiang Khong.

Chiang Dao really surprised us. We weren't expecting much - it's a small town with little to its name outside of a cave that is supposedly "touristy". But, we loved it. The bus ride from Chiang Mai was easy. We found a great guest house, nestled at the foot of the mountains (appropriate as it's named The Nest). The Thai food was among the best we've had. The cave was actually huge and awesome. We road bikes around town all day. We walked up 500 steps to one of the most beautiful and spiritual temples we've seen yet, appreciating the appropriately timed inspirational quotes along the way. We got pumpkin waffles at the Tuesday morning market. We liked it so much that we decided to stay a second night. The only down-side was that we broke down and decided to get a Western meal at a very well-reviewed "gourmet" restaurant. Date night! We spent a lot of money, ordered a lot of food and were served mediocre resort-fare and bad wine. It was a reminder that gourmet and Western are unnecessary notions in a country with such amazing, accessible local food. And that a lot of Westerners just don't like real Thai food as much as us (hence the stellar reviews). Lesson learned.

From there, by way of a bus and two songtauws, we spent a night in "the least Thai town in Thailand." Mae Salong is far North Thailand, almost on the Burmese border. It was settled by remnants of a Chinese Nationalist army fleeing the communist regime in the early 60s. They set up shop in Mae Salong with the expectation of building their strength for retaliation, funding their arms purchases through opium production and trade (it's very close to the Golden Triangle). They eventually fell in love with Thailand and took an offer of citizenship in exchange for help fighting Thailand's own communists and turning their opium fields into tea plantations. So now, you can sip a cup of locally grown Oolong overlooking beautiful valleys of tea plantations in a Chinese village in Thailand.

Two things stood out about Mae Salong. One, and most importantly, there is a shop that serves THE BEST NOODLES WE HAVE EVER TASTED. "Chinese Yunanist Noodle Shop" is family run, with grandma doing the cooking, mom doing the serving and grandpa doing the babysitting. Grandma has the preparation down to a science, putting the perfect amount of homemade noodles, dumplings, sauces, spices and broth into each bowl. The soup is served with a side of kim chi for crunch and an extra kick. We were in Mae Salong for less than 24 hours and went twice. We still dream about those noodles. We also had black-bone chicken (literally chicken with black skin and bones) for the first time which was weird but no where near as tasty.

The second observation is that Mae Salong has the tiniest horses on the planet. And, even after all of our noodles, they let us ride them. We went for a "horse trek" only to be led around on ponies the size of mountain goats. It was hilarious and we are pretty positive that even though it looked as if we'd crush the horses under our Western weight, they were actually sturdier than they looked.

Still laughing at the tiny horses and full from yet another bowl of noodles, we jumped in a songtauw for a quick trip to Chiang Rai. One problem... The songtauw only takes you to the edge of the valley where they drop you on the side of the highway. From there, with no instruction from the driver other than a series of "shooing" motions and lots of charades with locals on the street, we found our way to a bus stop and got on the next bus heading in the right direction.