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.

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.

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.

Trekking With Chang in Chiang Mai

December 15, 2012 by B + B

With most of the crew heading back to the states, Brendan, Steph and I jumped a flight to Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand. Counter to the beaches, sand and sun of the south, Chiang Mai promised mountains, culture and cooler temps. The city delivered on the first two in a big way. As for the weather, we are convinced that Thailand's "cool season" is the longest running international scam in history. If there is one, we haven't found it. Maybe they just keep that rumor out there to get you to book your flight. Once you're here, you'll fall in love with it despite the 99 degree days and 100 percent humidity and learn to live with it.

Steph had three requests for the North: elephants, trekking and "gritty" travel. While we did get fancy and fly to Chiang Mai from Phuket (expensive, but saves time versus the overnight train or buses through Bangkok), sitting on the floor of the Koh Lanta public ferry for three hours with luggage piled around us was a bit more in line with our typical "style" of transportation. First class, all the way. As for the other two, a day excursion booked through Trekking Collective gave us all that and more, thanks to our guide Chang (which also coincidentally is the Thai word for Elephant).

Chang is a Bangkok native, now living in Chiang Mai and working as a partner in the Trekking Collective, an ethical trekking company that puts custom treks together for private groups (we highly recommend it). He's probably about 60, but treks up to 6 days a week and has a childlike enthusiasm for nature, especially orchids. His excitement was contagious and his quirks - like talking to himself, scolding himself for taking a wrong turn or adding the Thai ending "kop" to every English word - were endearing and entertaining. And his stories were legendary. From trekking down from the Burmese border to raising wild cats in his Chiang Mai home, he is a fountain of random tales and tidbits. He picked us up in the morning in his Nissan 4-Runner (trust me, it was a 4-Runner, but not a Toyota) and after a quick stop at the market for ingredients for lunch, we headed out of town to the Mae Song Valley, about an hour outside Chiang Mai.

Thailand and elephants have a long history and tourism is one of the main modern industries for domesticated elephants. We, like many, struggled with the decision to visit an elephant camp. Is it ethical? Are we perpetuating the problem (supply and demand)? How are the elephants treated? Why can't they be free? Would they be if people like us didn't need to jump on their backs for a ride in the jungle? So many questions and conflicting feelings led to a long conversation with Trekking Collective on the the realities of life for elephants in Thailand, elephant tourism and the right ways (or at least not the wrong ways) to get involved. The fact is that without tourism, many of these elephants would be employed in hard labor jobs (logging is now illegal in Thailand, but was the main use for domesticated elephants for many years), would find themselves homeless or "begging in the streets," and would be unable to fend for themselves in the wild. Plus, there are people whose livelihoods rely on the work of an elephant (think farmers back in the day with oxen or horses), so there is an interesting human side to the story as well. However, and this is a big caveat, there are a lot of bad operators and companies out there who mistreat and misuse the elephants. They work them too long, too hard or when they are sick. All because there are people lined up at the door to see the show or take a ride. It is so important to find a good company, camp or conservation center to support if you want to spend time with elephants in SE Asia. The Trekking Collective uses Mae Song Elephant Camp who only work their elephants 4 hours a day and only offer full day programs during low season. Long story long, since we trusted Chang and Trekking Collective, we signed up for an elephant ride and, as you can tell from the pictures, loved every minute. There is something so sweet and special about these gentle giants and being able to spend even a brief time with them was so rewarding.

After the ride, we took a cage over the river (weird, but true... I felt like we were in Robinhood) and started our trek. It was hot. We were sweaty. But Chang's energy, constant stories and the beautiful scenery kept us going. And there were frequent breaks when Chang spotted a new orchid that he had not seen before or that was showing up for the first time this season. He would whip out his video recorder and capture the flower to investigate later (and then talk to himself about it for five minutes). After about 2.5 hours of walking uphill, we arrived at a village where Chang and the homeowner prepared us lunch over a traditional village stove, a clay pot with coals. Luckily for us, and despite the fact that he'll never admit it, Chang is an excellent cook. He says it only tastes good when you're really hungry, hence the trekking. But, his mother was a cook in Bangkok when he was growing up and his comfort in front of the fire is a dead giveaway that he has food in his genes. He even added some drama with, "Prepare your cameras!" before flames flew up from the pan. We ate in the family's kitchen/living room/ bedroom and then relaxed on the porch with panoramic views of the valley. The hike ended with a quick dip in the waterfall and a sleepy drive home to the city. We were beat, but happy from our time with Chang - the man and the elephants.