Jungle Beach

There is a place on the Central Coast of Vietnam generically named, Jungle Beach. The experience is nothing like the name. There may be places like it but I have neither heard of nor been to them. Jungle Beach is a 3.5 acre parcel of beachfront property owned, built, maitntained and run by a Canadian ex-pat. The 'resort' offers a variety of hand-built, beyond spartan accomodations that allow the land and atmosphere to dictate the experience. There were no windows and we could hear the ocean 20 feet away as we drifted to sleep. The huts were almost entirely coonstructed from bamboo and even the furniture was hand-crafted by the exceedingly creative owner.

Meals were included and prepared on-site and served family-style at tables that fostered conversation and new friendships. A perfect beach reached our front door and the warm water and steady breeze easily replaced the need for air conditioning.

We spent three nights at Jungle Beach. Our time was fairly evenly spent swimming, drinking and just sitting. I finally had the perfect opportunity to break out the guitar in a setting I imagined while packing it. We could have stayed much longer if our schedules had not been set for our return to Saigon.

The place has entered our travel lexicon. 'Well, it's no Jungle Beach.' is likely its most common use. Perhaps the best thing about Jungle Beach was its honesty. There was no pretense, it was not trying to be anything, it just was. Even the owner who was washed with 2,000 travelers a year and had earned the right to be jaded over his 13 years was highly personal and sometimes too honest. We took away many things from Jungle Beach but above all the knowledge that we will be back.

Third World (Wide Web)

There is no doubt that the internet has changed travel.  Wireless networks and internet cafes can be found everywhere we've been so far and if they are not free, the cost is unsubstantial.  We have booked many rooms and all of our flights online.  We have been able to stay in touch with the goings-on of home and relay our experiences.  We can research a city and read reviews on places to go and things to do. 

There's no overstating the convenience of having a hostel to direct the taxi driver to when arriving at a bus station, checking in early to a flight, or looking up transit schedules to avoid long waits at a terminal.  It's priceless to have the opinions of thousands of fellow travelers at virtually any time and on just about every topic from places to stay and countries and cities to visit. 

I have been traveling fairly seriously for over 10 years and have seen this revolution that has changed so much of our daily lives-from working to shopping-alter the experience of the road forever.  In 2001, when I spent two months wandering Greece, the internet was a way to check email.  In 2002, from Spain, I was able to follow a Giants game through the slow pitch by pitch diagram.  In 2006, Jason and I would  occasionally pop into a hotel parking lot to access their wireless networks to book a room while passing through about 40 states.  In 2008, Uwey booked a room in New Orleans on her phone while we traveled Highway 10 from Baton Rouge.  Right now I am typing this blog on our netbook at a cafe in Phnom Penh with free WIFI. 

But as I expound upon the benefits that this global revolution has conferred on my generation-X life, I think about what I have lost as well.  There is no doubt that I want to know what time our bus leaves tomorrow but can't say that I don't look back fondly on the time I played guitar for 6 hours while waiting for my train to Corinth to Athens.  When Adam and I searched for hours for a hostel in Barcelona in 90 degree heat it was miserable but I smile when I think of it.  Jason and I drove past exhaustion in New Mexico in 2000 only to pass out in a hotel parking lot where we experienced an act of kindness that changed us both.  With smart phones, we would have likely been in one of that hotel's bed. 

I have made countless wrong turns on the road, an act that is possibly preventable now, and have gained from many, if not most of them.  It is true that Uwey and I could sell our netbooks on the streets, we could drop letters in the mail and feel our way by foot.  I'm sure many still travel this way but it is no longer for us.  I said that the internet has changed travel but we have to acknowledge that we were changed before we hit foreign shores, it is a foolish notion to move backwards.  There is a balance, as with all things, and we will find it.  Already we have seen hostels, not available online, better than ours.  The internet is a powerful tool but so is our instincts and our judgement. G-chat anyone?

Update from Vietnam

Our view across the river while on a coffee break from cruising on the motorbikes.

This, I believe, needs no explanation.

Nice old ruins.

I decided to create a photo series of walls in SE Asia.

When we say, 'ok that's enough' they are just getting started.

80 degree water.

Pool or ocean?

We can eat this every day.

$5 a day.

Bow to her greatness.

Just another day.

Some Images

We have returned to Vietnam and we wanted to share a few images from this amazing place. Yures ou can click on the pictures to make them bigger then click the 'back' button to return to the post.

This flag was flying in the front of our boat in Ha Long Bay.

The sunset that followed. A few minutes later we jumped the 20 feet to the incredibly warm water, barely missing the jellyfish that stung our new friend.

Uwey wandering through a huge cave on one of the thousands of islands in the bay.

This woman passed along the river while we were eating lunch. I snapped this through the wall of our balcony.

Our hotel has free bikes for us to use. We took them through town and out to the beach.

Every month on the full moon they turn off the lights of the old town in Hoi An and light thousands of lanterns.

More to come.

The Slow Boat

It was interesting getting here, that's for sure. A rough first impression of what has turned out to be a truly wonderful country so far. We debated the method we should take to get into Laos and decided on the 'slow boat' over the faster bus option. The noat ride included our transport to the border from Chiang Rai, Thailand and two days on a boat along the Mekong, stopping for the night roughly half way through. . The pictures of the boat showed happy travelers, seated comfortably taking in the view of the river. We bit and shelled out about forty-five dollars each. The next morning the van came on time and we piled in along with seven others. The road was windy and I think a bit a bit dangerous. Nonetheless, we arrived at the border without incident. We were pushed through the border alongside many others and had our visas processed quickly. The weather was warm but not hot as we had clearly climbed along the road.

We were advised to buy food in the small town as it would be cheaper than on the boat so we grabbed a few sandwiches and moved along to meet up with rest of the group. We arrived at the small office to find a scene of mild chaos. True - almost verbatim - to the scam Uwey had read about the night before, the organizer, 'for our benefit', warned of horrors on the river. Due to the rainy season, two-day delays could be expected. Mosquitos would ravish our bodies and the boat may go down. According to the screaming man the bus was the best option and despite being the cheaper choice from Chiang Rai, we could board for a mere 500 baht or about 17 U.S. dollars more. He would not only pocket that fee but hold on to the difference in fare. Uwey, armed with her prior knowledge informed the group of the scam. In likely the most satisfying move of the trip, one after another of our counterparts either refused the bus or cancelled their booking. The angry, yelling man informed us that our fate was in our hands and stormed away in disgust.

We made our way to the pier, united and admittedly a bit rightious. What we found was the last departing boat full and roughly 20 of us on shore. Freshly banded we stood our ground. We were not getting on a packed boat to sit on the floor and that was that. We knew their game and we were on to them. We stood in an act of defiance, a powerful voice of foreigners with foreign money, a gesture about as worthless as the Lao Kip (about 8,000 to 1 U.S. Dollar). I believe that it truly was the last boat of the day and when faced with the prospect of spending the night in the town that had only offered deception and frustration, we boarded.

It was fortunate that we listened to the other advice we had found online and had purchased cushions for the long trip. Without them we would have spent eight hours sitting on the hard wooden floors of the boat. We took turns spreading out the pads and sleeping and we mercifully ariived in a small village around dusk. We secured a very cheap room and spent our evening at the only bar in town talking with new friends.

Uwey had doubted herself and had felt bad about warning of the scam when it's heeds had seemed to materialized but when we arrived at the dock the next morning we found a boat with comfortable seats to spare and we spent the next many hours in relative luxury. The previous day was just one of those times when passage through a third-world country lacks organization and the notion of Western fairness. The girl next to me of unknown European descent had said it perfectly as she turned to her partner, "We lost.".

Whatever we lost on our first day of travel in Laos we have made up for tenfold in this amazing town I am writing from. We are in Luang Prabang, a world heritage city with French colonial architecture bordering its lazy, winding streets. It is a narrow finger on the confluence of the Mekong and some other river and its easy, slow pace works perfectly with the countless orange-robed monks wandering its streets. A six to eight hour bus ride looms before the next town but for now we are happy to rent bikes for one to two dollars a day and explore this unexpected gem. A lightning storm has just passed by as I write and it is now time to meet Uwey and Danny at the hip-hop show across the tiny peninsula. You win some and you lose some.

A Nice Change

I am sitting poolside in the heart of Chiang Mai. Yesterday, we woke up in Bangkok. The difference is bigger than the one-hour, very turbulent flight would suggest. Chiang Mai has a beach-town feel and a nice, slow pace. Bangkok pulsed like the ten million person city that it is. We were all ready for the change.

We have heard the advice that for the most part a city is a city and that most of the real exploration lies outside of their limits. This has been true in some ways and false in others. It is foolish to say that Saigon and Singapore are anything alike. Saigon has its third-world feel and character while Singapore's futuristic nature and impeccable streets have a vibe all their own. But they are both crowded and busy and move with the speed and anonymity of a metropolis.

Aiding my overall desire for a change was our last night in Bangkok where I got desperately lost only ten minutes from our room. It took me three hours, four taxi drivers and countless tut tuts to find my way, all the while being grabbed by transexual prostitutes.

So now I sit, very much not lost and feel the tension ease. Uwey is lying by the pool reading her kindle and Danny is dozing next to me. Half a dozen travelers blanket the poolside. There is an energy here, an open and hopeful wind that dries my skin and beckons another dip in the pool.

The Places We Find Ourselves

There is nothing like this particular point in a trip. Jason, if you are there, we have talked about it countless times. It's the moment when the end is so far it is totally out of sight and the beginning is so close you can remember the events of each day. When you think back only one week it seems like three and five months to the future appears impossibly open. The promise of a pefect trip is still up for grabs.
At home with the foreign, small differences have become pedestrian and I dream of telling stories of the extraordinary. The act of traveling, of course, is often occupied by the newly mundane, when the romanticism of a new text on the ads has run its course and we have adjusted. But this state too is to be celebrated, if not as a testament to the human condition then as a triumph over it.

We have been led by the hand until now-a blessing and a curse- a fine introduction and an easy transition to be sure but the time has finally come for the true exploration we had in mind. Early this afternoon we said our goodbyes to the family, a bittersweet moment, and took a taxi to the first hotel we arranged on our own.

As I sit at this cafe I am still wrapping my head around the fact that our trip has truly and undeniably begun in earnest. This is the type of freedom that makes my head dizzy. All of our planning and saving has brought us to this moment in Bangkok, a city we leave tomorrow. From here on out our pace will be self-determined and our route our own, No matter what happens in the next five-plus months it will be our making and I have no doubt that what we will make will be beautiful.