tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39816326345838098632024-02-07T15:44:45.498-08:00Round The WorldYounghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-40847433952592662322009-03-10T14:14:00.000-07:002009-11-02T09:10:07.520-08:00The Legendary Full Moon Party!!!<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14803?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />When the mysterious full moon presents itself to Thailand, Koh Phanang explodes in hedonism. Anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 people go to the island to 'let go', a 40 year old tradition. Stunning tropical landscape, all night beach dancing, countless beauties, awesome food, cheap drinks, fireplay... Full Moon Party is out of this world!<br /><br />After nearly 24 hours of traveling from Veng Vieng (where the tubing from the previous post took place), we arrive battered and dreary-eyed but ready for more punishment. Taxi drops us at our hotel and sitting on the patio, as if signed up to be our welcoming party, is Pamela and Andrew, the fantastic couple met in our very 1st week on the road. We've become really good friends since then and met up in both Sydney and Bangkok, as they too are doing a round the world trip. <br /><br />As it turns out, they were meeting friends at the same hotel, and those friends were meeting other friends and those friends had friends and blah blah BAM! we stumble into a wonderful road-family. Throughout the day they wander back from the beach... Colin from Ireland, Louise from England, two girls from Holland, a couple from Scotland, Brian, Amanda and Brian from Australia. That night everyone goes to a pool party and the group really solidifies. We realize how truly good people they all are. 3am. We hit the beach for a preview of the big night. It's mayhem. There's no dance floors or bars, just 9ft speakers in sand with explicit dancing and things happening all over the place, and small carnival style booths selling buckets of 'get-you-drunk.' It's hectic and my imagination runs like Forest Gump, kicking up all sorts of nonsense thinking about what's soon to ensue at Full Moon!<br /><br />The following day, our close friend from high school, Jennifer Clark, whom we stayed with in Tokyo, arrives from the freezing Japanese winter. We head straight to the beach in front of our hotel. Once Jennifer gets her base tan, we head to town to see what we can find in way of Full Moon costumes. After all, we'd heard heaps about this party, and with so much anticipation we intended to go all out! End up buying an assortment of hats, masks and LOADS of body paint.<br /><br />On the way home, Pamela stops us in our tracks. She suggests making our own buckets at the hotel for a pre-party. It's the best idea I've heard in a long time. I instantly agree 100%. For those of you who've never been to Thailand, buckets are synonymous with cups, pretty much. Imagine those buckets you used in sand boxes as a kid, but replace the sand with an ungodly amount of horrible Thai whiskey, Cola, some sort of Red Bull knock-off, 8 straws and you have yourself a bucket! They are a staple in Thailand and for good reasons: they cost about $3, are a lot of fun to share with friends, and bring back childhood memories in a crazy tropical way. So we buy 10 empty buckets, 100 straws, whiskey, vodka, cola, energy drinks, and retreat to base camp for a good nights sleep.<br /><br />Awake at noon day-of and I can barely hold back my excitement. I want the party to start now! I feel like a kid again, waiting eternity for Christmas Day presents, good Lord! I kill the day cruising around town, devouring street food, chilling on the beach and all that fun stuff. Return to the hotel around 4pm and Brian is already painting his mask. By 6 everyone's on the patio. iPod speakers come out and we begin painting all sorts of designs on eachother.<br /><br />Garrett found a cowboy hat in town and paints it florescent green. Pam makes the 1st bucket and Garrett decides to paint his arm green as well. Somehow a green handle-bar mustache appears on his face and all of a sudden he turns in Techno Cowboy! I ask him for something cool on my arm and a fiery sun appears. NICE. More buckets are made as everyone continues with their paints, and before I know it we're snapping group-photos and sprinting to the beach!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoh91iNdAIDOPUsnrRM6c-SH_kZGyx30r8FjettOHyUPfovLznljUg-0XWAGR7eYp1aAKG-T2uwUtGDlXxlRJJ1XnhOc3nfdyI4uWs-rIQ2c40f2IX5k_kBmtc5MEhVRiy4eeOZECsPjGw/s1600-h/IMG_0702.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoh91iNdAIDOPUsnrRM6c-SH_kZGyx30r8FjettOHyUPfovLznljUg-0XWAGR7eYp1aAKG-T2uwUtGDlXxlRJJ1XnhOc3nfdyI4uWs-rIQ2c40f2IX5k_kBmtc5MEhVRiy4eeOZECsPjGw/s400/IMG_0702.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395877408420104498" /></a><br />Pre-Party at the Hotel...ready to hit the beach!<br /><br />The road is hard-worn beige, dark like wine dreg in the night, and the omnipresent palms are silhouetted strong against the bright full moon. We turn left onto a narrow sand path, pushing soft branches out of our way. A random gaslamp shines high and soft and I see small bats flittering around it. Nearly 200yds from the beach we hear a tremendous bassline thump. Louise and Brian are walking in front of me, I notice them stepping to the beat, now running to the beat, and HA! out we all roll into the mob scene laughing and staring and yelping like hooligans ready to take the beach over.<br /><br />Spill out onto the beach in a frenzy, instantly ignited by all the energy in the air. Our eyes and minds are on sensory overload; fire spinners, Full Moon signs on fire, dj’s, fire jump ropes, towers upon towers of speakers and thousands of people feeling the same thing we are! Head to a friend of a friends bar to get the night in motion.<br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-89d0af939b860f40 height=266 width=320 contentId="89d0af939b860f40"></OBJECT><br />Fire Jump Rope Video...EPIC!!!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1fi8ZtnFLgvuROjEwSYEjgQmcwM6HaA_hSnu_JAP__1sGWFBtB5dr8q5fzDfbul-YwQ91ZoINbCFzPK5bbdt5HUqAkxxadzXd9kJ_HijuuUq8XARo08MXzWDA6dnqc52dofFD_0nCfH9/s1600-h/P1060554.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1fi8ZtnFLgvuROjEwSYEjgQmcwM6HaA_hSnu_JAP__1sGWFBtB5dr8q5fzDfbul-YwQ91ZoINbCFzPK5bbdt5HUqAkxxadzXd9kJ_HijuuUq8XARo08MXzWDA6dnqc52dofFD_0nCfH9/s400/P1060554.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532786476887186" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXeYr-NEYO0wq7fOBKhSDhSNWYjO290ZiUjZ1zGwniXp0ZuznuPtrjBXCqusc6eOsc0q5rweEJzia2Bn3TifnkuoviRnSirCMCs52vWW6o91yrVKiLz_siTPuoDrMz-q_z09AetphlSky/s1600-h/P1060609.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXeYr-NEYO0wq7fOBKhSDhSNWYjO290ZiUjZ1zGwniXp0ZuznuPtrjBXCqusc6eOsc0q5rweEJzia2Bn3TifnkuoviRnSirCMCs52vWW6o91yrVKiLz_siTPuoDrMz-q_z09AetphlSky/s400/P1060609.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399530541844561474" /></a><br />Fire Jump Rope<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0qFdS9NgrM-1ywAkc8yi9B5STu_MQoRI7xYtZU9eB7tydAo6Ipz2ux6HJmfPnPs8W__IKemvBHIaO4kcNRkxWSr16atwaQL6bc59PZSQtCuiKdoKrzqfQ-CkmgIJldU6A-5GbqKuPIKo/s1600-h/IMG_0698.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0qFdS9NgrM-1ywAkc8yi9B5STu_MQoRI7xYtZU9eB7tydAo6Ipz2ux6HJmfPnPs8W__IKemvBHIaO4kcNRkxWSr16atwaQL6bc59PZSQtCuiKdoKrzqfQ-CkmgIJldU6A-5GbqKuPIKo/s400/IMG_0698.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532784425660674" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvnVqEk7GnEbXkOTmrJxQUNBn4HPE9H7m-2klRTXzLpk0lcLvcoVI2m88BIqcstZQc_BGzdQg1V8JhlLLZQisWEdrrSH0bnaiGXuytEzKPYVNKypcrTHv-ULbU1r-4GAF7sxuo-F7NdSU/s1600-h/IMG_0680.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvnVqEk7GnEbXkOTmrJxQUNBn4HPE9H7m-2klRTXzLpk0lcLvcoVI2m88BIqcstZQc_BGzdQg1V8JhlLLZQisWEdrrSH0bnaiGXuytEzKPYVNKypcrTHv-ULbU1r-4GAF7sxuo-F7NdSU/s400/IMG_0680.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399530560157731986" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BX_0BZoXOwIclrY3qz4mdSY1doH_qKNbGgwFinrHZSHUCpGAo6cy6x_PTbx-OHHu5mYriVtrZCJLLSvGxXBOn5crPesrE1O4D6dwJcvGu8RE-_Iu_syIDRnmEyNzhZkfO9PH2XhTWlRE/s1600-h/P3080312.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BX_0BZoXOwIclrY3qz4mdSY1doH_qKNbGgwFinrHZSHUCpGAo6cy6x_PTbx-OHHu5mYriVtrZCJLLSvGxXBOn5crPesrE1O4D6dwJcvGu8RE-_Iu_syIDRnmEyNzhZkfO9PH2XhTWlRE/s400/P3080312.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399530547179269122" /></a><br />THE GANG!!! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ8_KAKMem9bCLngxU0laKsKy5MGBVKrCudtYWyP5WeKqaCaWUMdup3BDuHnWswhHXz55yXH8t_idMiyUJK3c1rjtyprsGcWdK253fhEvyhq893Ve7OjZAhxHlPFLqghBABnT3f6zMGCg/s1600-h/IMG_0686.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ8_KAKMem9bCLngxU0laKsKy5MGBVKrCudtYWyP5WeKqaCaWUMdup3BDuHnWswhHXz55yXH8t_idMiyUJK3c1rjtyprsGcWdK253fhEvyhq893Ve7OjZAhxHlPFLqghBABnT3f6zMGCg/s400/IMG_0686.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399530556769412850" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdVAYRJtLO3eAPM_1BYu7UOD4zpt3Y29HAZXVek2Ucz-YI5ubTAQRnpNudByJqm7pCOpYKrKYWrTkxk1hyphenhyphenWiHZoZqafaLP2Fthw2mZupbw6nJNtkZ-auHBaoiM58vb2DQpodGD6K1QnjK/s1600-h/P1060580.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdVAYRJtLO3eAPM_1BYu7UOD4zpt3Y29HAZXVek2Ucz-YI5ubTAQRnpNudByJqm7pCOpYKrKYWrTkxk1hyphenhyphenWiHZoZqafaLP2Fthw2mZupbw6nJNtkZ-auHBaoiM58vb2DQpodGD6K1QnjK/s400/P1060580.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399527805455627922" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTDdL4bBtLyERLI2_mnUp73Z9J8RtrE9WhoUDOGyVQ5Uxdy5cXbswOOLE83ZZQRDnwmc1y0A8Bs-ESlUMuc30I2g3PhaOwhXlwTR_YISjcMoOD7d9e54U7ytAgksy0uFE5V5G4RRlKqGm/s1600-h/P1060565.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTDdL4bBtLyERLI2_mnUp73Z9J8RtrE9WhoUDOGyVQ5Uxdy5cXbswOOLE83ZZQRDnwmc1y0A8Bs-ESlUMuc30I2g3PhaOwhXlwTR_YISjcMoOD7d9e54U7ytAgksy0uFE5V5G4RRlKqGm/s400/P1060565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399527799758073314" /></a><br /><br /><br />Bradon's rest of the night/morning...<br /><br />3am- Garrett and I come to a fork in Mayhem Road. After nearly 9 hours of hard drinking our bodies are rebelling and begging for mercy. My head hurts and whats left of my brain hints at throwing in the towel, Im not feeling my best by any means. But I think to myself this may be the only Full Moon Party Ill ever get to see in my ENTIRE life, gotta to make it count! I make a right at the fork, order myself another bucket o' booze and agonizingly drink it dry, while Garrett and a few tired others make a left and reconvene at the hotel beds.<br /><br />Ive shown my body who is boss, resupplied it with what it wants and feel much better now that Ive gotten over that hump...ready to party well into the morning now! Head back to the beach where the action is and continue to enjoy my celebrity status. I thought there would be all sorts of people dressed up all crazy, man was I wrong! It seemed like everyone just got really drunk in there rooms, splattered some paint on themselves accordingly and that was it! Thats not how I roll though. I came prepared with some costume items I saved from Halloween in Sydney. Anyways I was pretty much a celebrity the entire night on the beach as people kept coming up to me asking if they could take a picture with me! <br /><br />Completely eat it up and meet heaps of friends because of my alleged “crazy” get up. The cherry on top came in the form of two gorgeous Swedish sisters. As Im sitting on the sand with some of our crew they run up to me, perfect blonde hair dancing in the wind, and say, “We just had to let you know you made our night with your outfit; you are have the best costume here by far...you are like the superhero of the Full Moon Party!”. Completely taken back/ happy as ever, I invite them to join our pow-wow. We chat it up for a while, one of the girls gives me a bracelet as a thank you for being so awesome and then they disappear into the night like two Swedish angels sent down from God's country, AKA Sweden, to give me a warm feeling inside, huge smurk on my face and to boost my ego all at the same time...haha!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYuu9pNQ6dMpMHW2o0iIBuTVw7VswE688XOVC_lfJfAPR3CL-eW30cRbMPW7dRzbaSxAELsTdWqVSUBeptQbQ71_95WFVZV9QZQ8KhofEOmb1PnWechRf-ebZw_OeK92sKXutiCxU1vDV/s1600-h/IMG_5627.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYuu9pNQ6dMpMHW2o0iIBuTVw7VswE688XOVC_lfJfAPR3CL-eW30cRbMPW7dRzbaSxAELsTdWqVSUBeptQbQ71_95WFVZV9QZQ8KhofEOmb1PnWechRf-ebZw_OeK92sKXutiCxU1vDV/s400/IMG_5627.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395877413913348898" /></a><br />Full Moon Party Superhero and the Swedeish Sisters<br /><br />Suddenly to my right I notice a couple on a red plastic chair getting indecent, and for the the Full Moon Party, that is hard to do. Point it out to Pamela and she is like, “Ewwww, lets mess with ems!” in her indescribably cute Irish accent. As she says this, two guys stumble up to her and mutter some drunken banter. She ends up daring one of the guys to tackle the couple on the chair in exchange for a beer...SHAZAM!!! Drunk people will do ANYTHING for more drunkenness despite the fact they dont need it one bit...I love it! The dude charges them like an NFL linebacker with a clear shot at Brett Farve, leaps in the air and full on lays the couple out! They all tumble to the ground, limbs and sand flying everywhere! The guy stands up, dusts himself off as the couple stare at him from the ground, confused as can be. He runs back to Pamela and claims his prize, while the couple continues their business on the sand as if nothing ever happened.<br /><br />Energized by the absolute comedy that just took place, the remainder of our crew pop up from the sand with a newfound bounce in our steps! The crew decides they want a change of pace from all the Trance and House music and want to head to the hip hop area. Im a House junky and am in the mood for nothing but. I tell them Ill meet them at the huge emblazed Full Moon Party sign at the first indication of the sun rising. I start dancing up a storm to the amazing house music that fills my ears...ahhhh! End up befriending and partying it up with some Aussie girls, English girls and a crazy Japanese guy that can barely speak any English, with exception to saying “You cooool!”, “Yaaaaaaaaaaa!” and “Lets take pictaa!”. <br /><br />Notice the first ounce of dawn through my shudder shades, say goodbye to my adoring fans and run to the flaming meeting point. The crew converges from all directions over the next ten minutes and we rejoice. We then turn our attention to the clear sky beyond the water and watch in amazement as the gorgeous sun rises, all the while dancing with our toes dug deep in the sand. I peer down Haad Rin beach and see thousands of warriors who have made it until sunrise all doing the same thing, absolutely loving the new found energy the sunrise is bringing to them as well...it is a feeling like none other! Overcome with excitement and sheer euphoria I decide to run down the shoreline, giving everyone high fives for making it to sunrise, they all love it!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9vJ_1mMRHr3DJgGo-p4o8smUYe4LML6oq3cGqxYFia1hOxIh9N0Va8GmaiceqKiY-s1ws4oXgyUdY1j-D6M7ByOUDc7OqwPC3gDRifTkwvhqGm3X7oDS6t2nW3yY-RTf8pCiYQqlKx3c/s1600-h/IMG_5649.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9vJ_1mMRHr3DJgGo-p4o8smUYe4LML6oq3cGqxYFia1hOxIh9N0Va8GmaiceqKiY-s1ws4oXgyUdY1j-D6M7ByOUDc7OqwPC3gDRifTkwvhqGm3X7oDS6t2nW3yY-RTf8pCiYQqlKx3c/s400/IMG_5649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399532795660880050" /></a><br />The brave soldiers who made it to sunrise!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1fd2VA7Jwo5STV-D4FrBhG7TtY9m77OHszGre2t45PjO4J2qH0-CCRmm3Gy1aIsZ2XstSMFZCUl8VuhjFCv2E01TZkYoCrwHCfVJK5V6KL8cGkRpvbsAH49Yg6HQCqkvq62SYZdfRZeC/s1600-h/IMG_5654.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1fd2VA7Jwo5STV-D4FrBhG7TtY9m77OHszGre2t45PjO4J2qH0-CCRmm3Gy1aIsZ2XstSMFZCUl8VuhjFCv2E01TZkYoCrwHCfVJK5V6KL8cGkRpvbsAH49Yg6HQCqkvq62SYZdfRZeC/s400/IMG_5654.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399527789536645154" /></a><br />Picture of the beach at sunrise<br /><br />Return to the crew and proceed to dance until it is completely light out. An after-party is starting in about an hour, but before we head there Pamela has the idea to go back to the hotel and grab the fallen soldiers from our group. After more than a few loud knocks, the wounded come to their doors confused and surprised. We notify them that we came all the way back for them and that it is now there duty to attend the after party with us...gotta love peer pressure. Reunited at last, we march on the war path to the The Backyard Bar where the after-party is taking place. Turn onto the barren dirt road that leads to the bar and begin to hear the all too familiar bassline of sweet house music...YES! <br /><br />Head down the flimsy wooden steps and are stunned by what we see. Its a huge glorified porch overlooking the otherside of the island! The view is honestly straight out of a postcard, amazing music is filling my ears, Im with great people and its 7am and Im dressed like a retarded laser beam....it doesnt get much better than this! Needless to say there are some characters at this after-party, as there are at all after-parties. There is an Asian girl whom I would guess is on the bad side of her 20's, who is completely Jekyl and Hyding it to the max! One minute she is dancing around like everyone else, the next she is crying her eyes out. But when she begins to cry she feels to need to physically attack the nearest male in sight, I kid you not! She slaps them while screaming like a dying bat, as the guys retreat in utter confusion. I watch her go through her Jekyl and Hyde cycle a good four or five times at least, each time its a different male victim, but they all share the same confused look when confronted...haha! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl__8x6dzzdMFrzesTYVd116bJbwdMGUa9Xm27ZDRIiLy0F8Z1GSJpfy2wukb8aHTU3IcYDejbn1JQCVx0eQfDKX51jsaHNmwS62KOJla83G6h3Zxr8AzXm_LrqHj4jRud4800faeIYAyj/s1600-h/DSCF0306.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl__8x6dzzdMFrzesTYVd116bJbwdMGUa9Xm27ZDRIiLy0F8Z1GSJpfy2wukb8aHTU3IcYDejbn1JQCVx0eQfDKX51jsaHNmwS62KOJla83G6h3Zxr8AzXm_LrqHj4jRud4800faeIYAyj/s400/DSCF0306.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399540669871829634" /></a><br />View from the after-party...what a dream!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRnu3zWtS4ZCrAeT1f4Qw6T48wyRgjMbbLvYwHWNbSNs_txaALRGuIqcVEb5umhe0Sgi80m8a_fGXvnqDjDQdVg3j8pyUZDT8CBkQkV6s5UjsaxqtjD61y35hcu5HVfX8qZr29ZomJST0/s1600-h/DSCF0318.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRnu3zWtS4ZCrAeT1f4Qw6T48wyRgjMbbLvYwHWNbSNs_txaALRGuIqcVEb5umhe0Sgi80m8a_fGXvnqDjDQdVg3j8pyUZDT8CBkQkV6s5UjsaxqtjD61y35hcu5HVfX8qZr29ZomJST0/s400/DSCF0318.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395877403941732706" /></a><br />Jeckyl and Hyde Chick trying to find another victim <br /><br />Then there is the buff gay guy in the tightest booty jean shorts ever known to mankind...I mean damn these things shouldnt be legal. He is accompanied by what we decide is a Ladyboy, after a group vote. So it appears to the untrained Ladyboy-detecting eye that he isnt gay, but we know better. They end up getting a little too comfortable with eachother, I would be better off today had I never saw that...Ill just stop here. As Im observing all these things, a completely random girl approaches. Stares at me with a half smurk, one eye nearly retired, holding a jar of Tiger Balm. She dips her index finger into the balm and proceeds to spread it over the entirety of my sunglass frame. She doesnt say one word the whole time and just walks away...WTF? Now every time a gust of wind comes through, I get punched in the face with the overwhelming odor of Tiger Balm, sweet!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibWnpcmWvwVbXBeu-x3QyNjGl9RxEVr-RocDqdbC4IuVWOwywuh2GnkYA0_gsIb-797GpJYK5TKM_OO4pwSLxZ1SNcvDSkTSSlfs91tk9oaUHOq2VUnYuvCjsKSOvxw7sR2QJysstbjfOa/s1600-h/DSCF0312.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibWnpcmWvwVbXBeu-x3QyNjGl9RxEVr-RocDqdbC4IuVWOwywuh2GnkYA0_gsIb-797GpJYK5TKM_OO4pwSLxZ1SNcvDSkTSSlfs91tk9oaUHOq2VUnYuvCjsKSOvxw7sR2QJysstbjfOa/s400/DSCF0312.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399540673604554578" /></a><br />Garrett and the Buff Gay Dude...haha! <br /><br />The morning wears on and our crew begins to drop like flies once again. Its about 11 am when I hit the wall and decide to leave that circus of an after-party. Jennifer and I take the Walk of Shame back to the hotel. On the way we see the select few people who are still partying some how, some way and its not pretty! Its the not so glorious side of partying, but entertaining it is. Grab some delicious breakfast at the local cafe, reflect on the legendary night we just experienced and return to the hotel circa noon...WHAT A NIGHT!!!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzcfbEyA3O0JXG_R7qx_DTnew6TmPRcAM_qEE5-DjLz20B9iQjwHciR49iyzJD0rOlgyyUL1O0Cz5twUsWFbNsZmNoAd-neW8QwUi6A-LtH2HNe85cvKRAhqBk4BesFBRPOUcbS9gtjIc/s1600-h/P3090315.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzcfbEyA3O0JXG_R7qx_DTnew6TmPRcAM_qEE5-DjLz20B9iQjwHciR49iyzJD0rOlgyyUL1O0Cz5twUsWFbNsZmNoAd-neW8QwUi6A-LtH2HNe85cvKRAhqBk4BesFBRPOUcbS9gtjIc/s400/P3090315.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399530552223528706" /></a><br />The 3 Musketeers!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2V7daw67jWX20MyH4JSmDlQk1Kk7tRWOfNm2H2M9fsrHX05u6OwUEQ91fn4Sx9nlSV6ig4YVnunDxXsOqDHwkZRSiWRbt8tURUIaO1cBDUlPc5eXVuUM7U0o_VINr2eX3MJzVA_nOi4GM/s1600-h/P1060538.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2V7daw67jWX20MyH4JSmDlQk1Kk7tRWOfNm2H2M9fsrHX05u6OwUEQ91fn4Sx9nlSV6ig4YVnunDxXsOqDHwkZRSiWRbt8tURUIaO1cBDUlPc5eXVuUM7U0o_VINr2eX3MJzVA_nOi4GM/s400/P1060538.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399527792525578370" /></a><br />Glow in the dark shot<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67btzQ1O0yZdlIw-PqVU5f8WGO0ESzxuHkRQKeYytJy1mOJifeW9utO2MstPOJwpIZsxnilSvXgLCB33MM9ZwoBjbf_eX-_2pLQx2tEhic_KGniO_sAAxJGAJ0u15Al1ZVVcVguWgtZMT/s1600-h/DSCF0195.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67btzQ1O0yZdlIw-PqVU5f8WGO0ESzxuHkRQKeYytJy1mOJifeW9utO2MstPOJwpIZsxnilSvXgLCB33MM9ZwoBjbf_eX-_2pLQx2tEhic_KGniO_sAAxJGAJ0u15Al1ZVVcVguWgtZMT/s400/DSCF0195.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395877403077257506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0RvYmHfq_v3hHLjQktYd28LrSuS0THKc06vPIhRt9mdUjdXObxxfVBTRX98tP2suLS7QScHcV4ZFTa_NbnLOkfDpacTEBF4oEy97arvx_AXPGvmrAdMAqPySKB58lE-dEuwR1yamoVaHE/s1600-h/DSCF0181.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl72epmJacq0wXkrYU8izlvlUvxJmiOSlUpiGnqk9fU9gWdtXwUn5mdUrqG-rswhWjRlbSEgh8toCl33C964t_Q8i7dc66dHe3agE8Q0POaxLjA1gqNMe-Uzq6D7f1oVJqBH-g9CgBVy5Y/s320/IMG_0597.JPG" border=0></A><br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-89d0af939b860f40 height=266 width=320 contentId="89d0af939b860f40"></OBJECT><br />Fire Jump Rope Video...EPIC!!!Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-22906960404567565382009-03-06T08:41:00.000-08:002009-10-06T16:44:55.586-07:00Laos Tubing<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14800?fairplayer=large"></iframe>
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<br />an old one but classic, one of my favorite pieces from the man, the myth, the legend!
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<br />The pace of which we were traveling through Laos was unhealthy, stupid and goes against all human logic...but it was all for THE CAUSE! Our situation was a tough one; we were in Chaing Mai and had to go to Laos in order to get another 2 week visa so we could continue south to the islands. Thai immigration recently changed the rules regarding tourist Visas; when you fly into Thailand you get a 30 day tourist visa automatically, but when you are coming overland like we were you only get a 2 week visa. This causes a lot of problems with backpackers like us. The solution is doing what they call border bounces in which you go to the nearest neighboring country, get your passport stamped again and return to Thailand.
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<br />Anyways we had a deadline to make it to the island of Koh Phangang for the notorious Full Moon Party that was a MUST in our books. The dilemma was do we just do the border bounce or do we suck it up and speed through Loas with the 3 spare days we had. We decided to go for it, although it would be a lot of travel time we had to see Laung Prabong and make it to Vang Vieng for THE CAUSE!
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<br />What is this cause you ask? Well its called tubing and whenever we would ask people about Laos, 9 times out of 10 the first thing they would say is, “You HAVE to do the tubing!”. Tubing for young backpackers in SE Asia is what Disney World is to little kids, Home Town Buffet (the greasiest buffet ever for those not from SD) is to anti-anorexics and what a thorn-hat shop is to Jesus!
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<br />Tubing is set up like this; you rent an intertube in town, then you catch a Tuk Tuk to the river. Then you spend the entire day floating on your intertube from riverside-bar to riverside-bar. The employees throw ropes to you and pull you into their bars if you signal to them. There are probably 15 bars in total. You are then greeted with a free shot of the local whiskey no matter what bar you go to, sounds cool right? Well it gets much better. Each of these bars has giant trapeze style swings and/or long zip lines! One bar even has a massive water slide the slants up severely at the end and shoots you out and up like a human canonball!
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<br />These videos arent of us, but just wanted to post them to give you all a feel of what its like...
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<br />From the border of Thailand we took a 2-day slow boat trip to Luang Prabang. On that boat we befriended about 6 Irish guys who were escaping the wretched job market in Ireland and were enroute to try their luck in Australia. We also became friends with another Irish couple, an Australian couple and one of the most insane/coolest guys Ive ever met named Simon, from London.
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<br />We all hung out together in Luang Prabang and migrated to Vang Vieng together. We pretty much rented out an entire bungalow between all of us and it was on from there! Since we only had one day to do the tubing we had to make it count. I set my alarm at 9am and proceeded to wake everyone up with some house music via my Ipod speaker. The pre-party kicked off at 10am at our bungalow and by noon we were on our way to the river!
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<br />A glimpse of the river from the first bar!
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<br />Hoped out of the Tuk Tuk and grabbed the intertube Jen, Simon and I were sharing for the day and sprinted to the first bar like a little kid on Christmas morning to catch a glimpse of this river that caused so much hype on the SE Asia backpacker circuit! As my eyes focused on the swings, perfect sunny weather, bars, ziplines, girls in bikinis and stunning mountanous backdrop; my jaw dropped to the floor while my liver put on its boots for battle as I fought to sputter an “Oh oh ohhhhhhh my GOD!!!”. The excitement was overwhelming; people dancing to house music, drinking out of the type of buckets I used to use in the sandbox back in elementary school and people swinging from an absolutley massive trapeze swing! I bolted to the bar for my first bucket. As I mingled around with everyone discussing how amazing this place was, one of the Irishmen came up to the group with a market he scored off one of the employees from the bar. Aussie flags were drawn on the Australian couples' backs, California was printed across my chest and someone decided to write “Dumpster Baby” on my arms...weird! After everyone had their countries names somewhere on their bodies, some stupid slogan(i.e. The English do it better, I rode a Kangaroo here, Irish really do drink a lot...watch!), or an obscene word or two...we were officially ready to face the river!
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<br />The first bar is the jumpoff for the rest of the day. People spend an hour or two here drinking, meeting eachother and watching fellow tubers fall hard off the swing. The swing here is the biggest on the river by far and I must admit I was quite intimidated! Garrett being the crazyman he is, climbs up the ladder and goes for it first. WHOOSH...he takes it like Tarzan and lets go at the highest point rather than waiting until he swung back to a lower point...and oh boy did he pay for it! The arms began to flail and I knew it was going to be ugly then. He landed flat on his back from a good 3-4 meters high, followed by a loud “Ohhhhh!” from the crowd. The employees with scorecards gave him 8 and 9's....well worth it! He comes out of the water and his back literally looks like one big bruise and he is hurting!
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<br />I gain enough courage to give it a go, despite watching Garrett just wreck himself a few minutes earlier. Once up on the platform I caught some pretty bad jitters and almost bailed out. But soon it was my turn and I just went for it. I held on until I was at the lowest point then released my grip and made a graceful dismount into the water....whewwww! So stoked I did the biggest swing first because it made every swing after it seem like nothing. The river became my playground thereafter! The remainder of the day was spent partying, swinging, zip lining, meeting people, going down the massive waterslide, playing volleyball and of course floating down the river.
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<br />Our legendary crew!!!
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<br />Night fell and we were forced to head back into town as much as we didnt want to! After a quick dinner we paraded to the island of bars in town and danced the night away. We unwound back at the bungalows after the bars and talked about the crazy day we had just had. One of the Irishmen, who is one of those guys who can remember every line from movies, decided to put on a show for us. He renacted a good 10 minutes of quotes from Pulp Fiction, but in an over-the-top Irish accent. He had us rolling on the floor, crying and holding our stomachs! An absolutely pricelss moment, something I will never forget!
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<br />The Irish version of Pulp Fiction was the iceing on the cake, all the trecherous traveling we had gone through to experience the river for just one day was more than well worth it! The next morning, sore as could be, we hoped on a bus for a 20-hour trek enroute to The Full Moon Party....GOOD LORD!!!
<br />Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-155702251434705692009-03-05T10:21:00.000-08:002009-10-06T16:06:03.384-07:00Slowboat to Luong PrabongAt 1am we leave Chiang Mai in a small bus, accompanied by a nice Colombian couple, as well as an Englishman named Simon. Simon's a fellow nightlife affeccionado, gentleman, and music nut... we hit it off immediately. It takes 3 hours to reach the Laos border. Morning reveals a river crossing. After cold showers and a brief breakfast we enter Laos. Board a wooden boat and begin the 2 day journey down the Kaan River. Destination Luong Prabong, a UNESCO World Heritage city since 1976, and 1 of the top 10 must-visit destinations according to the NY Times and Town and Country travel magaazine.<br /> <br />The journey is beautiful. I never get bored, whole time surrounded by prehistoric mountains covered in tropical trees, trees covered in thriving vines, then a bamboo forest appears and after that a small village where the people are in the shoreline. Men on rocks casting out nets. Kids in the river splashing each other, and as we pass they smile huge "HA-LOW!" and wave high, and my wave back fills them with earnest excitement, like they've been waiting all day just for that moment. I join the boys on the bow.<br /><br />After an extent I return to Jen and Bradon. The incessant splash beneath the boat and purring motor calms me. I mellow. I'm lounging on a wooden bench in a quaint, slow-moving boat. I'm floating through terrific primal country. I lean my head out over the water then gaze up toward the sky, it's dimensionless, only the brightest parts of clouds are definite, an eggshell hue, the whole sky is teal-eggshell. Thick haze sheathes everything and horizons wash away, the valley seems endless, an extension of the sky, teal-greyness veiling the next bend (perhaps 1 mile away), mountainous green silouettes on infinity<br /><br />I'm enjoying breathgiving surroundings. See a blue-white checkered fabric (as if torn from a shirt or ripped from a flag) drifting on the breeze. Watch it float toward me and get caught on post just beyond my face. There it stalls fluttering, waving, and then floats off again.<br /><br />After 8 hours we arrive in Pakbeng, the half way point in our journey. Book a small room for $3 then go out to dinner with Simon. The waiter brings over a bottle of free Laoatian whiskey a.k.a. Lau Lau, and we eat well and polish off nightcaps. Then find a small hut and see locals watching an English soccergame. Simon's hometeam is playing so now we're shouting and singing to the television. Jen teaches a little girl how to spin fire balls.<br /><br />Wake the next day and after another long boat ride arrive Luong Prabong.<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c282e91c28&photo_id=3446391653"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c282e91c28&photo_id=3446391653" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6xVFPFcf8QbXs6ep_Ltu-1227HwCzIpKEPqZwUT08GmzMOmpsCGvcEVignkjJMd0IGaZGUS0eSLYPsP-sOcdY-_J9y3YZhahHXdBfkyptYDHfHSgu2-601Ac0C7I24hoI_k1g21pOqJ7p/s1600-h/sky.jpg"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPztTVrEyNjM4aPMP1aCWbFpwDit0gQ6p2lPUiVDkx4kV6Pdw3A6tyIbnQsO0KZJkMxr65LDW6oQUZuOgTKUlKUqgziOF6M4AmaCH-s5t5O1CgP_lVFYVDi4eqXNUhMS3czX_9-V5RTwi/s320/jen+lessons+cool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383252977358511410" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR3jj20ED0nHGNdU2PjC8SEd9cQNsGi3n1J3juQrclqlhM0LbTbRM4Gxbf03QM9RVq0tBf9gpMhO9_YNp7PImv6PjAjQoQZWCPmaQ57rwd6xz9nUGnrcQJZwko2gVwl2fnsa68jeID8jh/s1600-h/lesson1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR3jj20ED0nHGNdU2PjC8SEd9cQNsGi3n1J3juQrclqlhM0LbTbRM4Gxbf03QM9RVq0tBf9gpMhO9_YNp7PImv6PjAjQoQZWCPmaQ57rwd6xz9nUGnrcQJZwko2gVwl2fnsa68jeID8jh/s320/lesson1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383252966684265346" /></a><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=1411ec6b4a&photo_id=3447214814"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=1411ec6b4a&photo_id=3447214814" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-46764881805816942142009-03-02T03:48:00.000-08:002009-09-11T13:30:28.883-07:00Chang Mai - Elephant Rides, New Friends, Weird Women and Rafting<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14790?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />Chiang Mai is a 12 hour train ride from Bangkok. Endless lush jungle the whole way. I stick my head out the window only to see Mincks hanging out between cars, yelling with his shirt off “Yaaaaa!” We meet a cool cat from England named Andrew, also traveling the world but focusing more on scuba diving than world experience it's his 2nd big trip. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7fCKSyuA1zt3BZu3Vs45YghYUlRaMibqqyDZDQslGKDjjS2LmQ9YIJLMxctdHHqb1SFXtsIKmU0xW8V1BDZJSr43sZCz5oATes6KtB_UOdC9Ie8mIZZ1ftll2vooIr3gfrDOkGutzvUV/s1600-h/P2260073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7fCKSyuA1zt3BZu3Vs45YghYUlRaMibqqyDZDQslGKDjjS2LmQ9YIJLMxctdHHqb1SFXtsIKmU0xW8V1BDZJSr43sZCz5oATes6KtB_UOdC9Ie8mIZZ1ftll2vooIr3gfrDOkGutzvUV/s400/P2260073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380294771612082546" /></a><br /><br />Finally arrive 3 hours behind schedule, that's Thai time. Andrew joins our search for cheap beds. Settle for the Chiang Mai Inn and Andrew shacks up with us to save money.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZuGxGyLtwKa_hcCtcIpqIjlQluoAlWD6jQbowXTYIWodyI8apflnrAt3KbGorU0Mx62bkMWgaU9YCfCMFcZwRzCIrqh0mLTpuUqXP_HLaUHtpmkTb8xvw1XJUHMoNTb418bSKAKWgRW8/s1600-h/P2260078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZuGxGyLtwKa_hcCtcIpqIjlQluoAlWD6jQbowXTYIWodyI8apflnrAt3KbGorU0Mx62bkMWgaU9YCfCMFcZwRzCIrqh0mLTpuUqXP_HLaUHtpmkTb8xvw1XJUHMoNTb418bSKAKWgRW8/s400/P2260078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380294779057645570" /></a><br /><br />Starving we head out in search of food. Trotting down the street we see an insane old lady growling a 3-wheeled Harley, it has black saddle bags covered in silver studs. Her ashy afro blows in the wind over her face stone hard like she was born to ride! But here's the kicker, there are 3 flags on the bike, 2 small ones on either side, 1 Thai and 1 American, and in the middle is pompous Confederate flag HUGE!! Haha! We couldn't get over how awesome she is so we ask around about her, find out what bar she hangs at and plan to go but never make it... still regret it to this day!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYc7aWckFueD0nGPKA4qDRUsepXCqhOV1bZKTL8MG-r5igGk5IrGakiDcSPphzAiSTBKU-Iz3l1Iv9WaTAfvdMnNHOv7JtdwyG6LJTm476OiaFfuMVpvSHm-hCtlQRpGIl3CfP1CLRLm0/s1600-h/P1060326.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYc7aWckFueD0nGPKA4qDRUsepXCqhOV1bZKTL8MG-r5igGk5IrGakiDcSPphzAiSTBKU-Iz3l1Iv9WaTAfvdMnNHOv7JtdwyG6LJTm476OiaFfuMVpvSHm-hCtlQRpGIl3CfP1CLRLm0/s400/P1060326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380294760794497970" /></a><br /><br />Time was not on our side in Chiang Mai. The town is known for lengthy treks into surrounding mountains and villages which are by all reports incredible, but we're in a rush to explore Laos before the Full Moon Party, so an authentic trek just isn't in the cards. Try to make the best of it, book a cliché day trip through a local travel agency. 1st stop is river rafting, if you can call it that. There are maybe 3 small rapids the entire time, the rest of 'rafting' is spent floating on a calm river, enjoying the scenery and commenting on the massive butterflies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3IG2a_vwMYoHlvx5LedLl0HNEtC4X5DydyHjKYJlBrG3xqM73CbEffmvxDclgs3Lcq_LZxTORPbJQJCoLUNSzg5Jym1dp1nQSjpZmD7wpW9-ya6C2WX3tYomXfFC6JUmaQyw2gq8nZVW/s1600-h/IMG_0069.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3IG2a_vwMYoHlvx5LedLl0HNEtC4X5DydyHjKYJlBrG3xqM73CbEffmvxDclgs3Lcq_LZxTORPbJQJCoLUNSzg5Jym1dp1nQSjpZmD7wpW9-ya6C2WX3tYomXfFC6JUmaQyw2gq8nZVW/s400/IMG_0069.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380281889584156354" /></a><br /><br />Stop 2 is Elephant riding, something I've been looking forward to since we started planning the trip! And WOW did it meet all my expectations... about 7 elephants all together, each with travelers on top. Jen and I sitting together in a big basket on an enormous, bus-sized elephant and we remove our shoes to rest our feet on her neck feeling her massive muscles expand and contract. In thick jungle we climb hillsides, trot ridges, wade rivers, and every now and then the big girl stops to take a drink. There's a bald guy from Cleveland in the group, he's big so the guides give him his own basket, he almost doesn't get on he's too timid, he ends up being taken on a detour— his elephant decides to just wander aimlessly away from the group, all the while he screams “I knew I shouldn't have gotten on this damn thing! Where is it taking me? AAAH!” and we're laughing hysterically!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jDi9bMpbZlo&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jDi9bMpbZlo&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMFl4Kq1XxC8R6s_QoYc72dmG-1SnVNvPQbY1LMZCbLMnMZEiXusK20OKPkrBouDaYFruI9Ov52LsPjczaXbxCmBlfNtuLeQkycurI1HIfVXK4ArtK2Ktmfc-QniwH6SbN36iqhse1c7D/s1600-h/IMG_0139.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMFl4Kq1XxC8R6s_QoYc72dmG-1SnVNvPQbY1LMZCbLMnMZEiXusK20OKPkrBouDaYFruI9Ov52LsPjczaXbxCmBlfNtuLeQkycurI1HIfVXK4ArtK2Ktmfc-QniwH6SbN36iqhse1c7D/s400/IMG_0139.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380286051816865650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7O9mspcx4SVPuh-ppflOeCjoodmvKrdPOXg8oIRWAKt4f0jjnn5V4DfoSUacrmPM0s3_pG-fwTPzc7Ubm-qQh03cBAz8kkXDIRrjAPRyYfCbCAu3jaQo7vGQfSJ5mS7Jcx7Hu7fZqBwUb/s1600-h/IMG_0116.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZBS8zDzx2S_mK4qKBWuoHOgAVe2pvrL-s237NgLcC933hYVmtcPU_eI3xXYCf9g6wZMNZXI27fw2DhRoqM8n7VSj0zPM9N3Q4OPdMmeVKujd5ljkiIGa5d0bxoNeLQosdlSSbX1NZhiE/s400/IMG_0104.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380281930050752546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRXUi5vTqk_E3dbmk7wqNxitYu3b8RSy3cyv_FweuPRhMSkmR5084ratZH3HoLicYJD2zik9CjGQS2O5BkBj0a4tETHU34Bbuyi21izrP9cHjZ6jCvKZ9o4oR0U7AwvhcD2UonhcU8W6a/s1600-h/IMG_0087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRXUi5vTqk_E3dbmk7wqNxitYu3b8RSy3cyv_FweuPRhMSkmR5084ratZH3HoLicYJD2zik9CjGQS2O5BkBj0a4tETHU34Bbuyi21izrP9cHjZ6jCvKZ9o4oR0U7AwvhcD2UonhcU8W6a/s400/IMG_0087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380281919505148050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxoOqntzXiGRjSXbBeu40unFHs_Bm0UHPVnbDrFxgWvya5dbVnaAJzrkuBbbXv4IVe-gLzDrqFPdh1qMYWt-8nBtKbkm42fposH0qtrRsF8wmZ3egoXJsCfv4JzTPXkRZ8FrhIAlImYtb/s1600-h/IMG_0077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxoOqntzXiGRjSXbBeu40unFHs_Bm0UHPVnbDrFxgWvya5dbVnaAJzrkuBbbXv4IVe-gLzDrqFPdh1qMYWt-8nBtKbkm42fposH0qtrRsF8wmZ3egoXJsCfv4JzTPXkRZ8FrhIAlImYtb/s400/IMG_0077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380281907883006546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQi9Na7mRwzCR9CB_btAktlBd8cvBajOZhkcbg51_QK-3abUgM6VyGFTe3sua5tJUPh4s9_sKIA3JR-jqbPrmNxT_-NDhRE6YJ6WH0Q14BAi0XawoM1x_D222ZytJndPbsBbFoBaW6NVH/s1600-h/IMG_0070.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQi9Na7mRwzCR9CB_btAktlBd8cvBajOZhkcbg51_QK-3abUgM6VyGFTe3sua5tJUPh4s9_sKIA3JR-jqbPrmNxT_-NDhRE6YJ6WH0Q14BAi0XawoM1x_D222ZytJndPbsBbFoBaW6NVH/s400/IMG_0070.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380281898501895586" /></a><br /><br />Stop 3 is another river. We ride traditional bamboo rafts. A guide stands at the bow and another at the tail. They control it gondola-like stabbing a long bamboo spear into the sediment, pressing hard. They give each of us a chance at it: there's a duo of Japanese guys in the group, and on their turn they serenade Jen with a slow Japanese love song, like true gondoliers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxSJIcJQmSX83yMT8W0oQHOVxpEGuqvpSe7P5eypRoESZWEPVtyVq_0i5PthNw1wyKDdKdAeNn4gs0THxN4d7Ct_87Fas_-u1LpDgOpAcSQY-U_Yo66IRTFbYV4OtbLrp9uH79uH4SP6r/s1600-h/P2280137.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxSJIcJQmSX83yMT8W0oQHOVxpEGuqvpSe7P5eypRoESZWEPVtyVq_0i5PthNw1wyKDdKdAeNn4gs0THxN4d7Ct_87Fas_-u1LpDgOpAcSQY-U_Yo66IRTFbYV4OtbLrp9uH79uH4SP6r/s400/P2280137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380296062711586594" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnbbdgLNC93GTmGoaBHNJQu_y_1pkF-IDvmsZu_DIJDuYjUT3geEJcUM0v72LfyeZPoPE7WldX06HGWqhcdOrLGyb19nqn3lplFLBh0RX7bdbRMnLygc_VGlhqmxhldy4b0DcVvwmjgQg/s1600-h/IMG_0161.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFnbbdgLNC93GTmGoaBHNJQu_y_1pkF-IDvmsZu_DIJDuYjUT3geEJcUM0v72LfyeZPoPE7WldX06HGWqhcdOrLGyb19nqn3lplFLBh0RX7bdbRMnLygc_VGlhqmxhldy4b0DcVvwmjgQg/s400/IMG_0161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380286068660835186" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIApSLPNbv7gTlM7wfyyUkmVee0HU5kIrIC6_p81Wmy5XDAhH1u1_QcXmnzx8z8MJoEe7e8CWXqRoewFPSkJcaUvIOewSoMgUaCahUpI19lgJ-TwY7Qu7B6X9rzWla1DvitwcLXlu9W8j/s1600-h/IMG_0158.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIApSLPNbv7gTlM7wfyyUkmVee0HU5kIrIC6_p81Wmy5XDAhH1u1_QcXmnzx8z8MJoEe7e8CWXqRoewFPSkJcaUvIOewSoMgUaCahUpI19lgJ-TwY7Qu7B6X9rzWla1DvitwcLXlu9W8j/s400/IMG_0158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380286060228560770" /></a><br /><br />Stop 4 was at 'long-neck' and 'big ear' village. It's really just a small group Burmese and Chinese people living on the outskirts of town, being exploited for their tradition selling souvenirs... not an authentic cultural experience but still a trip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvN-wEFxbQajrDXmLDp4XQKec9q7NZMJP5wEwOsfIDZtzXgScyjwe9-2QpfH94tMgnlGy6qtYFjV76UX8uK5KLaIjtMKDFBOZnp-W_Pw4gtMLAHob0fB7svqXRFW3cOfODx2P_Vypcv-R/s1600-h/P2280164.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvN-wEFxbQajrDXmLDp4XQKec9q7NZMJP5wEwOsfIDZtzXgScyjwe9-2QpfH94tMgnlGy6qtYFjV76UX8uK5KLaIjtMKDFBOZnp-W_Pw4gtMLAHob0fB7svqXRFW3cOfODx2P_Vypcv-R/s400/P2280164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380296076480880418" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gtf9pUgSuinosAlf0mszytiyk0iA58k3_WtGXoYS5ev8YAr0MHpuR-nxyjQzKAXzlptdkuNuDLN3-g8eAKbe6klGp1jaq6tMqwqnA6WHS0VdHkE_3r1xBv9rMzYNNDUUb9P3llnaY9Sg/s1600-h/P2280161.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gtf9pUgSuinosAlf0mszytiyk0iA58k3_WtGXoYS5ev8YAr0MHpuR-nxyjQzKAXzlptdkuNuDLN3-g8eAKbe6klGp1jaq6tMqwqnA6WHS0VdHkE_3r1xBv9rMzYNNDUUb9P3llnaY9Sg/s400/P2280161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380296068212782514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2A4UAt0s8O_0cqRnoP2AWZg3zj9ku2KjFTpKl5P8gMyYKdQxJGO-1-eKrQGj6UJdZWwTTC5FVF3AlQX_AFE_C8Clp9jpPBCZ17BwTW70JY55rGbHxAviOyIIKgX0psMNCYv0o82kDI0R2/s1600-h/IMG_0175.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2A4UAt0s8O_0cqRnoP2AWZg3zj9ku2KjFTpKl5P8gMyYKdQxJGO-1-eKrQGj6UJdZWwTTC5FVF3AlQX_AFE_C8Clp9jpPBCZ17BwTW70JY55rGbHxAviOyIIKgX0psMNCYv0o82kDI0R2/s400/IMG_0175.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380294748371296018" /></a>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-46021245786536032282009-03-01T07:23:00.000-08:002009-09-11T13:29:28.722-07:00Bangkok City<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14751?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />A fine lass named Simona Sabo joins our group. She's a spunky clothing designer from L.A., full of life and smiles, cute and witty. Had the pleasure of touring much of Vietnam with her, arranged this meet up in Bangkok. In addition are Pamela and Andrew, aka Pamdrew, the brilliant couple met our very 1st week on the road. They too are doing a round-the-world trip, and we've already met up twice. They're legends. For example, once back in the U.K., Andrew told Pam that it would be very sweet if she woke him with a kiss, so she did and in his sleep he POW!punched her in the face! He of course felt awful, but they both laughed and to get him back, that morning she gave him a nearly black hikee right on his forehead, just before he went to work he haha called in sick due to unsightly hikee. Love 'em. <br /><br />6 of us walking Koh San Road, Bangkok's world famous backpacker street. <br /><br />It's electric like any big city drag, overcrowded every night, you smell with your sweat glands. Air's rich with peanut sauce, cooking fat, grilled corn, sweet chili, cigarette, pancake, banana, smog dust booze ASIA!round old women rigid behind food carts, frying up generous portions of Pad Thai or chopping exotic fruits. It all costs about a buck. Biding shirt vendors, they fasten their eyes to you like a problem child's might visiting Santa Claus, yearning for your whole wallet rather than a humble blessing; they're street magicians hissing “Pick a card!” and if you approach and play, they behave with meekness so contrived all respect just dissolves and you resent paying anything beyond the minimum; while they always say “Whe' you from, Wha' your name" etcetera the slick-fake-friendship conjured by western car salesman is rarely neared— bargaining is a joke.<br />“How much for this shirt?”<br />“400Baht goo' price cheap cheap”<br />“100Baht”<br />“Hehe oh no way man... I discoun' for you 200Baht” and you just look at him in the eyes and say<br />“150Baht.” He shakes his head. “150Baht.” Again he shakes his head so I outstretch the amount, he takes it, I just walk off with the raiment. <br /><br />Behind the vendors are bars and clubs. High colorful buildings with open windows and neon somethings. Different genres thump out each one. Hearing them over the crowd-roar. Everything grabs your attention, not that exceptional things are happening, but everything is ALIVE. We're laughing, listening, feeling it all. Close friends and new friends meet our dear friend Jen, and Brad and me glow in between. We're trying to take it all in. Then the crowd parts for a flimsy Thai guy and his disproportionate friend, who holds a chain-link leash on a baby elephant. The flimsy fellow holds a bag of corn stalks, which you can buy and feed the beast, who keeps spurting out muffled snuffs and high pitched BPREEAH. The poor babe's freaked and it's a sore sight but we can't do anything about it, and hell... ever touched a baby elephant? nonetheless fed a baby elephant? So we buy some corn and feed the poor girl.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81B1BvqwQF6Gl5q6-nKDEPpNX8sScP_PGYIcPYtWCiCTfbIGZY6GSRM-9yLQgN1HL4uhSab3yoQvAxrpGjqTs1xS3J1PnVsqdeukYpM51mEutlocyEhrs5w0tY8REk3LZNeNA8BhDUHkT/s1600-h/IMG_0133.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81B1BvqwQF6Gl5q6-nKDEPpNX8sScP_PGYIcPYtWCiCTfbIGZY6GSRM-9yLQgN1HL4uhSab3yoQvAxrpGjqTs1xS3J1PnVsqdeukYpM51mEutlocyEhrs5w0tY8REk3LZNeNA8BhDUHkT/s400/IMG_0133.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372815916404104658" /></a><br />We continue our meander. End up in a big, Irish pub. There's a cover band playing all the latest pop-shit but it's still fun, and the reunion energy's so strong we can't be bothered by anything. We throw back a few rounds and return to the streets. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd41qpRLTzUX15SooKN981BsQsTu0TizV1ZSjrU3CVCP2E-cBk9Zwt0csouffhYw_VhhQ2iyKh1sA9_fusvtcvAZlJS-G2O-TWIQDhO_aM9BQURyF70mEFMxBdRRFlDMk3Jp2l9HUjPCF/s1600-h/P1060084.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd41qpRLTzUX15SooKN981BsQsTu0TizV1ZSjrU3CVCP2E-cBk9Zwt0csouffhYw_VhhQ2iyKh1sA9_fusvtcvAZlJS-G2O-TWIQDhO_aM9BQURyF70mEFMxBdRRFlDMk3Jp2l9HUjPCF/s400/P1060084.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372782054966674898" /></a><br />Now late. Much of Koh San's cleared out but we walk the length anyways. The ladyboys are undeniable. We heard some are beautiful. Bullocks. Not that I have anything against them (seriously), but they are all clearly transvestites... man-size feet, muscle definition, long strong hands, broad jawline, shoulders—dudes, and flirty dudes at that. As soon as you're alone they approach you. I'm pretty sure they're tricks, but none of us ever stuck around long enough to find out. So we walk together happily in our own world laughing and catching up. Grab some late night Pad Thai and paaaass out.<br /><br />You know those Thai protests? We took part. 1 day we go sightseeing. En Route to the Grand Palace we go down Bangkok's Broadway. Suddenly hordes of civilians wearing red begin parading. Huge trucks filled with people, bull horns, noise makers, chanting, singing, clapping, 1000s of Thais marching for their cause, smiling to us and waving, and we wave back and smile in awe. 1 shouting quartet approaches the 6 of us, smiling. They ask where we're from and teach us their chant. So we go right ahead and join in. The quartet hands over sashes, noise makers, and as we participate the paraders go wild, cheering for us and waving. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHwpN8IvWaweDEUDu-iXeFtlxx99nFrI6tR_CPW92bYeC9Hr6-wdiqq2qnzkIaZuGYqxoNKpj5VbSDVEgCMrSPBRy17i8-bZs2wo6W29Mq_1L8DTShlvpNkzQz13n1aDRFXOy67Ll5fTY/s1600-h/IMG_0172.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHwpN8IvWaweDEUDu-iXeFtlxx99nFrI6tR_CPW92bYeC9Hr6-wdiqq2qnzkIaZuGYqxoNKpj5VbSDVEgCMrSPBRy17i8-bZs2wo6W29Mq_1L8DTShlvpNkzQz13n1aDRFXOy67Ll5fTY/s400/IMG_0172.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372815921928318098" /></a><br />We watch the spectal roll through for 20 minutes, then continue on our way to the palace.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFPMYS2C7bsfOyM8TZFPh9DTphB9lE_qZkf-4r0okyJ7XDmEm6SYHylq2J0NgIME4XAO1_olcon7D63RVdZFJfTD_YYf9gybgi4m7878prPvc2MfUiv4tnvV2vVslrTpL4r8q6lUaKNzV/s1600-h/P1060189.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFPMYS2C7bsfOyM8TZFPh9DTphB9lE_qZkf-4r0okyJ7XDmEm6SYHylq2J0NgIME4XAO1_olcon7D63RVdZFJfTD_YYf9gybgi4m7878prPvc2MfUiv4tnvV2vVslrTpL4r8q6lUaKNzV/s400/P1060189.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372823580944659618" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHx2tX_YoFoHMPMTve5IaQ90QAg92Lh7UGjBj-CZDCzyRF2Xe6M-SiZMQE3RcOZj2Vy2n2HHxkYClvSDYnz_58_ac2VmdkPdoeewP4II3GoVJl2tka1FNkzPVnQcIZ6OpGIAJTi5GZPvO/s1600-h/P1060171.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHx2tX_YoFoHMPMTve5IaQ90QAg92Lh7UGjBj-CZDCzyRF2Xe6M-SiZMQE3RcOZj2Vy2n2HHxkYClvSDYnz_58_ac2VmdkPdoeewP4II3GoVJl2tka1FNkzPVnQcIZ6OpGIAJTi5GZPvO/s400/P1060171.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372821352937982482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAjQQRgzS-zoYyZdJNr1ZN1k43aKBLiIxZZimAsYr1H3IDFxcVbE7VzSrlySkT5iko6cFKXICQP5yWyiqXUbYLL-4gRny5-RlrQs_7811D-DUyPY1pqzLw6utV968YERcOUHA75SdOJzh/s1600-h/P1060168.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAjQQRgzS-zoYyZdJNr1ZN1k43aKBLiIxZZimAsYr1H3IDFxcVbE7VzSrlySkT5iko6cFKXICQP5yWyiqXUbYLL-4gRny5-RlrQs_7811D-DUyPY1pqzLw6utV968YERcOUHA75SdOJzh/s400/P1060168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372821341195668018" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3-0a4jYXTIp-F-_bqPnLGxsNvRSlJP-oMzFL2j_B0YJd2X0R3tSKX8Fb8ZIZsTPHhXtfNMnG5kw5iKRGW7xAU6_iknLO0Upz17CmHXwVr8uE1WsbBY-fE4Sj2df7EwT5eU99b4VPNl4f/s1600-h/P1060153.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3-0a4jYXTIp-F-_bqPnLGxsNvRSlJP-oMzFL2j_B0YJd2X0R3tSKX8Fb8ZIZsTPHhXtfNMnG5kw5iKRGW7xAU6_iknLO0Upz17CmHXwVr8uE1WsbBY-fE4Sj2df7EwT5eU99b4VPNl4f/s400/P1060153.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372821340648081026" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjXy0BUhtbBAol0SerQxGWVKKqbQDOSEzxkX4JR-S9lfpW-hOJ3BOj9TcZdawgbJFBZvzC6tAfACQkhKoB7plVJ0dVFVoAHjnTqHWduRojkRFSy0F6PQAH2ZnK6KUO_4wN5n3j5Kl0Xme/s1600-h/P1060149.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjXy0BUhtbBAol0SerQxGWVKKqbQDOSEzxkX4JR-S9lfpW-hOJ3BOj9TcZdawgbJFBZvzC6tAfACQkhKoB7plVJ0dVFVoAHjnTqHWduRojkRFSy0F6PQAH2ZnK6KUO_4wN5n3j5Kl0Xme/s400/P1060149.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372821328420362082" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRP-aGVAYSebU6m3Rwk7Zb8cPzH0QnS48wbo-j-hF3qTnMDypGEVU6GEQkJVz4xr2UZVmPDo1SaBchloKNtZnncZfTzG8nrsVWD-nXXrcYkVDGR7EgiY2fgKbBhfcaxme4T87XaWIXFy_2/s1600-h/IMG_0192.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRP-aGVAYSebU6m3Rwk7Zb8cPzH0QnS48wbo-j-hF3qTnMDypGEVU6GEQkJVz4xr2UZVmPDo1SaBchloKNtZnncZfTzG8nrsVWD-nXXrcYkVDGR7EgiY2fgKbBhfcaxme4T87XaWIXFy_2/s400/IMG_0192.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372815937000421234" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde1WRQuTXE4dU6TyzwagmZcNb9o7LDDbNrcOQy7eisdscEVBcMwLcPfCsW8T638uhSneMedTzdkDbVCiR7VdBJQhGfKie31oOQvFCgfGITv_-1G1LZEOMoGzZ_d5eQcLyLOZfj190z2Xl/s1600-h/IMG_0202.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde1WRQuTXE4dU6TyzwagmZcNb9o7LDDbNrcOQy7eisdscEVBcMwLcPfCsW8T638uhSneMedTzdkDbVCiR7VdBJQhGfKie31oOQvFCgfGITv_-1G1LZEOMoGzZ_d5eQcLyLOZfj190z2Xl/s400/IMG_0202.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372815932429352722" /></a><br />Afterwards we went to the giant sleeping Buddha.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgac9F5rMeL7jnq-KwoPF6b73R2EFVSu2F-YDpZ7mJcR44n2mrVPTWyoLjnsy2qAG2o51pi9p8MMI9ATsuxRSIL9bWXvwqHAjEbIwOpxVfVItYr9vCeNopiHfEBOP0nkpfkHYetnaDdKiHG/s1600-h/P1060177.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgac9F5rMeL7jnq-KwoPF6b73R2EFVSu2F-YDpZ7mJcR44n2mrVPTWyoLjnsy2qAG2o51pi9p8MMI9ATsuxRSIL9bWXvwqHAjEbIwOpxVfVItYr9vCeNopiHfEBOP0nkpfkHYetnaDdKiHG/s400/P1060177.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372823571784797842" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nC4XOoOyzkQ38QJ23vYkCb3csoqPQHltqiYY9OOSoIHKtYNMl7pPk0YbEa7cXrFFu9_7-CTRng5HzENRLP7ayNXIEV0Kwou8lYwV8zSZfv3sMlf5nS4gkFnyI6rNqC6GFNCRLyojaqxy/s1600-h/P1060173.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_nC4XOoOyzkQ38QJ23vYkCb3csoqPQHltqiYY9OOSoIHKtYNMl7pPk0YbEa7cXrFFu9_7-CTRng5HzENRLP7ayNXIEV0Kwou8lYwV8zSZfv3sMlf5nS4gkFnyI6rNqC6GFNCRLyojaqxy/s400/P1060173.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372821354341954466" /></a><br />That evening we check out the shopping area. Wide slimy street. We’re drinking coffee. There’s a bridge overhead and it’s dripping down something sordid. Bradon spots this old bat selling cool shirts—her stance hisses out "Fuck you,” her body's seething lard, her legs stiff, arms even stiffer. Her face skin's wrinkled like race-tracks. He walks up anyway. He sets his cup on her table, tries on a shirt, turns to me “Bro this feels like sandpaper.” <br />“It looks awful. I mean, the design's dope but it fits like a trash bag.” He folds it back on the table. The bat's eyes burrrn.<br />“Why you no buy! Why no!”<br />“I'm sorry it does not fit.”<br />“Why no man! Buy from me!”<br />“Thank you bye.” He shakes his head forgetting the empty cup.<br />“Fuck you man! Fuck you now you buy!”<br />“Oh sorry.” He grabs it “Bye lady” walks to another vendor 4-yards back. Again no luck. Turns around, continues down the street toward devil woman. She glares, steps in his path and powerfully hooks her leg round his. He stumbles and almost face-plants. Out of instinct he spins and throws his empty cup at her face, and I swear her damned lips tightened so hard her eyes rolled back like Linda Blair's did in The Excorcist, and all 5'3" of her flexed so hard she lifted off the ground in a squat RAH! She waddles after him then jabs his torso over and over. He's stunned and can't fight back. She grabs a random bamboo stick and whips his left arm over and over, all he can do is grin, bitterly holding back as everyone just stares. The welts lasted a whole week. And that's how Bradon got caned in Bangkok. Crazy old bitch. We took some photos of his arm and kept walking down the road, wondering to ourselves the *@#$ just happened...haha!!! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFw7l5j9tfA7MPLOEUa2kqXFEiUHzyyE3lDXuMKuVtuUyIbMBXKx40i1wuVgKFLuknaSVQRp71NyK0If5dmVZJiWAqz2Poxu9jbkaFiTibbuY2P39JeHwK33GwlyPJfHEkmDP5ZfyPppE/s1600-h/P1060214.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFw7l5j9tfA7MPLOEUa2kqXFEiUHzyyE3lDXuMKuVtuUyIbMBXKx40i1wuVgKFLuknaSVQRp71NyK0If5dmVZJiWAqz2Poxu9jbkaFiTibbuY2P39JeHwK33GwlyPJfHEkmDP5ZfyPppE/s400/P1060214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372823588640459314" /></a><br />Look closely and you can see the battle welt...the bruise lasted for 2 weeks!<br /><br />Over the next few days the 6 of us have a great time. We club it up nightly and get hassled by ladyboys. We go to Pat Pong, which I refuse to describe but I will say it involved, darts, balloons, cigarettes, chains of needles, flowers, flying bananas, and ping pong balls. We almost get mugged. We ride countless Tuk-Tuks, 1 of which is driven by an obvious meth-head who twitches at intersections. We see a fantastic Thai reggae show. Simona gets the most beautiful tattoo. Thailand's a wild place. Bangkok's a wild city. It just feels real. Like after a tiring day and you're famished and use just the change in your pocket to buy a huge, greasy burrito. Right at that first bite.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3iQ3TSDysNx5g3xu2MZuipZkGA4_nmvvtp1sYJtgm9Rc73U4QteJZjDsc3gBqESiOg-IMqxoLXaB62OZucar6XfxbOIx4Js0VIBjg2nz55BWd0LSxbzKjFAZgM4WiqQ9M65MvFu-elzkt/s1600-h/P1060247.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3iQ3TSDysNx5g3xu2MZuipZkGA4_nmvvtp1sYJtgm9Rc73U4QteJZjDsc3gBqESiOg-IMqxoLXaB62OZucar6XfxbOIx4Js0VIBjg2nz55BWd0LSxbzKjFAZgM4WiqQ9M65MvFu-elzkt/s400/P1060247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372823593316847794" /></a><br />Best Taxis in the world!!!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Opp2HLfhQHY&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Opp2HLfhQHY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-42660887771438926512009-02-21T07:29:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:55:09.458-07:00Angkor Wat<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14793?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />We spent 2 FULL days exploring the surreal temples of Angkor Wat in the brilliant city of Siem Riep, we were lucky enough to see the temple at sunrise, sunset and in the dark of night. No amount of words could ever do justice to the magnificence of these temples so I decided to pick some of the best pictures and let them do the talking instead. Here is some info about the temple from Wikipedia just to give you some background on the place...<br /><br />Angkor Wat (or Angkor Vat) is a temple complex at Angkor, Cambodia, built for the king Suryavarman II in the early 12th century as his state temple and capital city. As the best-preserved temple at the site, it is the only one to have remained a significant religious centre since its foundation—first Hindu, dedicated to Vishnu, then Buddhist. The temple is the epitome of the high classical style of Khmer architecture. It has become a symbol of Cambodia, appearing on its national flag, and it is the country's prime attraction for visitors.<br /><br />Angkor Wat combines two basic plans of Khmer temple architecture: the temple mountain and the later galleried temple, based on early South Indian Hindu architecture, with key features such as the Jagati. It is designed to represent Mount Meru, home of the devas in Hindu mythology: within a moat and an outer wall 3.6 kilometres (2.2 mi) long are three rectangular galleries, each raised above the next. At the centre of the temple stands a quincunx of towers. Unlike most Angkorian temples, Angkor Wat is oriented to the west; scholars are divided as to the significance of this. The temple is admired for the grandeur and harmony of the architecture, its extensive bas-reliefs and for the numerous devatas (guardian spirits) adorning its walls.<br /><br />The modern name, Angkor Wat, in use by the 16th century,[1] means "City Temple": Angkor is a vernacular form of the word nokor which comes from the Sanskrit word nagara (capital), while wat is the Khmer word for temple. Prior to this time the temple was known as Preah Pisnulok, after the posthumous title of its founder, Suryavarman II.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2uogrmMyaTqlOP2nGu7bwGYUpVwSQTOgwyR7_KZmq02Pfsmqb6eKTrufeFTh1y2pM57nwCxaACHR52EjXoRO2xp3mJJAOcQzxPOzxbFxq4KqSZJDrOvW5yBFP7vEf71rgV5ExtAZGa9Z/s1600-h/IMG_9979.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2uogrmMyaTqlOP2nGu7bwGYUpVwSQTOgwyR7_KZmq02Pfsmqb6eKTrufeFTh1y2pM57nwCxaACHR52EjXoRO2xp3mJJAOcQzxPOzxbFxq4KqSZJDrOvW5yBFP7vEf71rgV5ExtAZGa9Z/s320/IMG_9979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368014978030134386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLu0CN1rP3JY0rOgOznPFvRuw_dHCRc57p8C5iPbMeUWD-cSR5f1uLsI99S5SG7v4bscqe11wxPYR0WBDyD6QhmrNDVMGIdzv-ntlKclF7S4DqFkh4RWrpQCwjXCGGRcSo09ITkICYNE_4/s1600-h/IMG_9969.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; 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display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzn6eDJ1Lp42Od8_j_plHZxzZpBWzHURKeh7BRgk3CKx4WWK7LnbxjMS-Bm5cgk7v1VIRW_z56IJnZqKWI-DhJyZC3VctPjrGMEAED5miiFP05PyPWsMCm0QCLpNlGzDrSWVvzZ0m-3Z26/s320/P1050615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367979067420874674" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dh_EEOoj4sjBxrP-_RsXe-Bo8eU_absog72sDS3OWHcXCPT_D5liMUKQ-oA9J4NSduiEzYPvHWtB3yUaOXcWdT4TYK6RAH4QhTywC5HPmjmU0Kn-aYqnwvow1Pg9GqEugAp2RqVMWQtJ/s1600-h/P1050610.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Dh_EEOoj4sjBxrP-_RsXe-Bo8eU_absog72sDS3OWHcXCPT_D5liMUKQ-oA9J4NSduiEzYPvHWtB3yUaOXcWdT4TYK6RAH4QhTywC5HPmjmU0Kn-aYqnwvow1Pg9GqEugAp2RqVMWQtJ/s320/P1050610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367979065615946082" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDAeaPJgmBDqMIJi6FFbDBVJ1grlnEBYnZnztqwFQq4FQs67BhyphenhyphenljR2JvCBrz6EY-QKZ0w-y2PuvghsYUPF-8dEknqIdZ-ADjGRH7tusy92H2RFYK5YxexJ9UWUYbpCKPArcwshPoSdES/s1600-h/P1050603.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDAeaPJgmBDqMIJi6FFbDBVJ1grlnEBYnZnztqwFQq4FQs67BhyphenhyphenljR2JvCBrz6EY-QKZ0w-y2PuvghsYUPF-8dEknqIdZ-ADjGRH7tusy92H2RFYK5YxexJ9UWUYbpCKPArcwshPoSdES/s320/P1050603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367979058584615746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbU8idw-oUYIGUViGK6cM0QfGSrTFu0cy2BpU2kSoLtiu_j1B8Gx0HEkKmDfFqexEqFrEuDexmvwxFYk0SBE9uZiCQAaKgtzQvMJxsLsO9T1Ty1vcqNtEGDWGbj3Rst52oiB4ItQL0ZaVC/s1600-h/P1050595.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbU8idw-oUYIGUViGK6cM0QfGSrTFu0cy2BpU2kSoLtiu_j1B8Gx0HEkKmDfFqexEqFrEuDexmvwxFYk0SBE9uZiCQAaKgtzQvMJxsLsO9T1Ty1vcqNtEGDWGbj3Rst52oiB4ItQL0ZaVC/s320/P1050595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367979049028855410" border="0" /></a>Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-55894141581861572622009-02-16T07:21:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:54:36.715-07:00Sihanoukville<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/19430?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br />In the mood for mindless beachlife. Sihanoukville is a 5 hour southbound bustrip. Get tickets, make the journey, and during the whole trip we're like 'what the hell is this guy thinking.' Usually charter busses play music or movies or both, and it's tolerable. WOW we endure 5 hours of boyband karaoke video, loud. No joke. The driver kept turning down the volume to blabber on his phone, then he'd turn it up even higher. By the time we arrive it's so loud earplugs are worthless. The hell is he thinking.<br /> <br />Anyway, Sihanoukville ends up being everything we hope for. 5 days blissed out on a tropical beach, lounging in beachbeds and hammoks. Jen gets over her jetlag and embarasses me at billiards everyday. We get excellent tans...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvlc5JiyNBkjYbd7YWOyWmYAZrALI37c629wP0g-0yzkOk6v2RVwoqWDIk160vn1RPWb4Y__xBrlP5O-y4xYut3MVEp-2mAvk12pxuPVFyYwSZCInPy1gZKwv_ZoigAarfRhCcqs69Cdh_/s1600-h/IMG_9676.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvlc5JiyNBkjYbd7YWOyWmYAZrALI37c629wP0g-0yzkOk6v2RVwoqWDIk160vn1RPWb4Y__xBrlP5O-y4xYut3MVEp-2mAvk12pxuPVFyYwSZCInPy1gZKwv_ZoigAarfRhCcqs69Cdh_/s320/IMG_9676.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366998037725698786" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7v95qwCBxIL1rU4CC6ds7Y4DigoHOzkR0TQ1wsViwPQiH5ykaiM0X8UoNIEcUI4K5w5JkBxpqCmBR4P-Xh-sEi91Cf8pyAEEychQVL3DrtMqjzNAZzzC_gnplKvBTs-5VYuaYqmCvLNcr/s1600-h/IMG_9667.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7v95qwCBxIL1rU4CC6ds7Y4DigoHOzkR0TQ1wsViwPQiH5ykaiM0X8UoNIEcUI4K5w5JkBxpqCmBR4P-Xh-sEi91Cf8pyAEEychQVL3DrtMqjzNAZzzC_gnplKvBTs-5VYuaYqmCvLNcr/s320/IMG_9667.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366998031256274146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSmIT6JFmYN6QLwcQ86alf3f9csgw17J9B-kWPEujDZmwMQEZdBm8UH5L26qn6tFDF5Fyl-fuaiXeZW3ffbrf6toqC8S-LFPKwiDtUz3iV73IXHTmQJsGWICFEUPiEOqLJPIwMzaBWJcf/s1600-h/P1050549.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSmIT6JFmYN6QLwcQ86alf3f9csgw17J9B-kWPEujDZmwMQEZdBm8UH5L26qn6tFDF5Fyl-fuaiXeZW3ffbrf6toqC8S-LFPKwiDtUz3iV73IXHTmQJsGWICFEUPiEOqLJPIwMzaBWJcf/s320/P1050549.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366996542768153666" /></a><br /><br />Here's the last 2 nights.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4hiLPcHcDp0KUCZbSf7RDPZedxIOgTnDQ8L5PFlhgO8TH6s3l60EqEdxtwbNPmN_traKar3MZNzFHRaEOqkvcwE8EfRZ2TUiE5uI3IXFdWFG94zlnVcvR-V4b9xHNA-fznOdb4XNITnP/s1600-h/P1050528.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4hiLPcHcDp0KUCZbSf7RDPZedxIOgTnDQ8L5PFlhgO8TH6s3l60EqEdxtwbNPmN_traKar3MZNzFHRaEOqkvcwE8EfRZ2TUiE5uI3IXFdWFG94zlnVcvR-V4b9xHNA-fznOdb4XNITnP/s320/P1050528.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366990725732134818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXp3M_O8UxIG4OE4Hk-3dqRzrthZkilnJpG4p5mZHlo7kugHJAzzQVjNr2IEKZWI15Q6MdS_CFvVk6p8QiJYHpEmJLmE6MJmDoc3R7Lp-7loW09fxUu2zC90OxmKVRkwqi_8HoZMsut3ru/s1600-h/P1050527.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXp3M_O8UxIG4OE4Hk-3dqRzrthZkilnJpG4p5mZHlo7kugHJAzzQVjNr2IEKZWI15Q6MdS_CFvVk6p8QiJYHpEmJLmE6MJmDoc3R7Lp-7loW09fxUu2zC90OxmKVRkwqi_8HoZMsut3ru/s320/P1050527.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366990731365505426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtMdIZKPf3f8rzxFPv-U8GEZMwRsAhKjVU1pTovsKpgkT6ZmpzFf5tzpWo1sf5j7a-yBTH87ISnIPBJ_XWjfZpvKSS2MarbNhNDDh4ju9IpbBjcvafPVy8taDSIH-4dfl4MKG-qeg_a6h/s1600-h/IMG_9704.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtMdIZKPf3f8rzxFPv-U8GEZMwRsAhKjVU1pTovsKpgkT6ZmpzFf5tzpWo1sf5j7a-yBTH87ISnIPBJ_XWjfZpvKSS2MarbNhNDDh4ju9IpbBjcvafPVy8taDSIH-4dfl4MKG-qeg_a6h/s320/IMG_9704.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366998046892180994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBTH17iBeeZHgSeLPFNf47NQ2Pf4Dj8FzV24NmhOsswikd7kdMEQlOc9i1GSHGWbq-RnorQiwU72VWOoRxKKuOh6zeH8-0f4j3ra1um-6ksSsuWjhkj7hUYFsrGVK2Jiw3sOsLk1PmJGW/s1600-h/IMG_9712.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwBTH17iBeeZHgSeLPFNf47NQ2Pf4Dj8FzV24NmhOsswikd7kdMEQlOc9i1GSHGWbq-RnorQiwU72VWOoRxKKuOh6zeH8-0f4j3ra1um-6ksSsuWjhkj7hUYFsrGVK2Jiw3sOsLk1PmJGW/s320/IMG_9712.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366998043157191922" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_MHu8qt4hfk66DjIcMbzRdvy1qOW41g7I2TZ5B9dDLx5XvW-OnRfS05ZnMYB2kllMwwKK5EiRN6_cLBIWwH9cBk-yR039X8GXPRj8wX7XFDlEPjhDAVoysMadsuj04fkOyKCJWTNSB3Q/s1600-h/P1050524.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_MHu8qt4hfk66DjIcMbzRdvy1qOW41g7I2TZ5B9dDLx5XvW-OnRfS05ZnMYB2kllMwwKK5EiRN6_cLBIWwH9cBk-yR039X8GXPRj8wX7XFDlEPjhDAVoysMadsuj04fkOyKCJWTNSB3Q/s320/P1050524.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366990717128762946" /></a><br />Irish guy goes to the bar and buys 2, then joins us on the beach and lights em up. 3 Swiss dudes, 5 Irish, 2 Aussies, and 4 Americans. 7:48pm; time for the happy hours. Begin at Oceans for $0.25 beer and I buy a round. The Aussie girls are fiery fun, dancing Napolean-Dynomite-like sweeping both arms in long frows, then prancing and spinning, smiling big and sweating in the nighttime mug. <br /><br />At around 9 we head to Banana Bar. Dance floor is outside and in the center there's a tall pipe. It's rust-red with a small flame purring out top. There's a button behind the bar and when the tender presses it, the small purring flame explodes into a fireball, accentuating the craze and the tenders are drunk again already trigger happy. Fireballs keep exploding and lighting up the place. Haha it's getting warm. Then we bump into the very first people we met on the road! The awesome couple from Amsterdam! NO WAY! Hugging, smiling, laughing. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qq5MlCumPuAx4ZJoM-hgeDHbQ5lZeYhsnxWpv47zwS_6oYikUz-hQNusAQgK_1vrHb1KXV5U1668ZxEy4Xjma5FwM-0pA_Q57WwzwLr2iMA8SC2lKa849eHPXjA757HLAHWn0_lRSj2h/s1600-h/IMG_9791.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qq5MlCumPuAx4ZJoM-hgeDHbQ5lZeYhsnxWpv47zwS_6oYikUz-hQNusAQgK_1vrHb1KXV5U1668ZxEy4Xjma5FwM-0pA_Q57WwzwLr2iMA8SC2lKa849eHPXjA757HLAHWn0_lRSj2h/s320/IMG_9791.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367000530645107746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBh0H6sGmWBeB-vJb2vp40_hs8JrNsaO-E9e5PGcNzxtZxzHkFb0IBPRoGMiRZOFeSmi9yOBk1R20NHZiQGpcDXHn3ZfKJZfH1zgFDIVJsGll0tN43okgeFQPNg6QbemTDMkBfmQAj_wP/s1600-h/IMG_9779.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBh0H6sGmWBeB-vJb2vp40_hs8JrNsaO-E9e5PGcNzxtZxzHkFb0IBPRoGMiRZOFeSmi9yOBk1R20NHZiQGpcDXHn3ZfKJZfH1zgFDIVJsGll0tN43okgeFQPNg6QbemTDMkBfmQAj_wP/s320/IMG_9779.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367000527895329858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYFkG_kScfTKxfW1qc0sEVw7vk7clIy4By0NyF9bfvDt-XdfXvGkYoUjigMCT4NEF2fAMqVeP7NpiAKzwikDGs_gX4IUZbGgNA80XbdKB6VLrFTL8FYgB7-V3t4xM0B6xrhHs0IOd7srs/s1600-h/IMG_9766.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYFkG_kScfTKxfW1qc0sEVw7vk7clIy4By0NyF9bfvDt-XdfXvGkYoUjigMCT4NEF2fAMqVeP7NpiAKzwikDGs_gX4IUZbGgNA80XbdKB6VLrFTL8FYgB7-V3t4xM0B6xrhHs0IOd7srs/s320/IMG_9766.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367000520130865602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOW7e7MXsAsCLVaevaHMlOM_u2gULZCZyDINjxTBVfjhFHF2H74HHbOMBz8Ohp3d5hthsngEqk85MmIPlIVSgV7cDj1s2fJh4IFbaqFF8Fv1-deY-wbwSrWQIuFNlHOeNIOHJMjaK5VbU/s1600-h/P1050541.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOW7e7MXsAsCLVaevaHMlOM_u2gULZCZyDINjxTBVfjhFHF2H74HHbOMBz8Ohp3d5hthsngEqk85MmIPlIVSgV7cDj1s2fJh4IFbaqFF8Fv1-deY-wbwSrWQIuFNlHOeNIOHJMjaK5VbU/s320/P1050541.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366996533564191442" /></a><br />Move onto Reggae Bar. On the dance floor is an inflatable kiddy pool filled with spaghetti. 2 bikini clad girls with bob-cuts are wrestling in it, not holding back, being voracious— Jen says if they weren't laughing so hard she'd guess it was for some ex-lover. Agreed. Whole scene isn't sexy at all just ridiculous in the now common 'only-in-South-East-Asia' way, so an Aussie girl climbs ontop the bar.<br /><br />Wake next day hungover. It's our last day. Still haven't left the beach village. We rent motorbikes then VRROOM inland toward the flea market, toward the shanties, toward the huge mountains and monuments, the lion statue painted gaudy gold. We VRROOM pass palms and ferns and person-size urns, pass broke-down shacks of parents, and their kids and cats and rubbish flies up as we race and yelp, so I stand up as I pass em all gleaming, everything seems blurred but exotic. VRROOM it's wondrous how the kids laugh alongside us, trying to keep up— and now it's raining but no complaining just gaining speed, increasing the rush— feeling the rush of water stinging my face, but keeping strong, leaning on, yelling for more MORE<br /><br />We race through the city and end up at the harbour. A local's stark naked trotting down the road, wait what? We race the coast and end up back at the hostel.<br /><br />Take the night off and watch a movie. We walk down the busy road toward the theater and the Swiss dude rolls one. Now in the theater lounging on couches and plush chairs. Swiss dude rolls himself another one and the theater owner (American man in his 50s) happily accepts a drag.Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-3983096053634065692009-02-13T07:18:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:54:06.096-07:00Killing Fields & S.21 - Pnomh Penh CambodiaWe´re in Berlin and it is soooo dope. The city is literal Eden for electronica. The music everywhere is insnane... the best minimal house and techno and funky cutting edge. Yesterday we did a bunch of touristy stuff, like see the wall, the famous gate, some crazy memorials, the hotel where Michael Jackson held the baby out the window, the location of Hitler´s bunker. Last night, the 1st bar outdoors and covered in Graffiti, and a belligerent German guy dressed in fireman garb got wild with flame throwers. Tonight we`re lucky enough to party with a local girl whose got her fingers deep in the local music biz. YES.<br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/19162?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />**Click on a photo to see a bigger version. Make sure you can read the signs in the photos.**<br /><br />Close friend/ pseudo-sister Jen Sciacqua met up with us on February 27. Prior to the trip, she, like us, had never really ventured outside the country. She was a little apprehensive to explore a place like Cambodia. Brad & I remember that fluttery angst well. It just so happened that on her 1st day, the best use of our time was to visit 2 of the most horrific museums in the world: S.21 prison & Killing Fields. Welcome to the world.<br /><br />**There was a genocide in Cambodia from 1975-78. An man named Pol Pot came to power & sought a self-sustained Agrarian country, an obscene version of communism, literal stone-age. His political party had many names, but the most common is Kemer Rouge. Pot separated families and outlawed their important tradition of eating together. He systematically tortured millions of all ages, races, and genders, targeting anyone educated whatsoever, had any contact with Vietnamese, spoke another language, was not impoverished, wore glasses!? etcetera. He transformed the country's largest high school (consisting of 4 x 4-story buildings) into a prison-death-camp. It's called S.21 and located in the capital city, Phnom Penh. Dozens of mass graves were found in the '80s. The biggest was from S.21, and located in the outskirts of Pnom Penh, dubbed The Killing Fields**<br /><br />Jen arrives from the airport glowing but burnt from the sleepless 22 hour trip. It's 10am—big warm hugs and the 3 of us move into our hotel room. We walk down narrow metal stairs to the street. Bradon begins the haggling circus & scores an all-day Tuk-Tuk (SE Asian moto-taxi) for 8 bucks. Nice. We arrive The Killing Fields, bouncing through the entrance, stop then exit onto dead grass. The sun is now at noon.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7__KVWiStf3anm5Tg3D1ozH5Ni3X3Q0epAhMUSk3SzDS7T50G-2Z-4fd7hVRApe8hYf7v-afPvnx4ZZHxlxcLfnsNzCM4Cr51OBb3msUYsynUtNqCMoXnXNUmkViPq4H1kv62iHHw5vo/s1600-h/n529195745_2156605_5242.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7__KVWiStf3anm5Tg3D1ozH5Ni3X3Q0epAhMUSk3SzDS7T50G-2Z-4fd7hVRApe8hYf7v-afPvnx4ZZHxlxcLfnsNzCM4Cr51OBb3msUYsynUtNqCMoXnXNUmkViPq4H1kv62iHHw5vo/s320/n529195745_2156605_5242.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365027362135830786" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqL4PTi6hJihx5xZrwvs6iXtWsSoFrLpJ4w8OX0Vzzsiq7Eiwm6T3E4lC7L8m02_GPN3onU8Y_RKHHlZFtS1eBPG2JsfnWzbMq9RKDCB7_H7BcePFFUY-FAV8kv8JGn1qx2k0sD4ikBa/s1600-h/7+IMG_9619.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqL4PTi6hJihx5xZrwvs6iXtWsSoFrLpJ4w8OX0Vzzsiq7Eiwm6T3E4lC7L8m02_GPN3onU8Y_RKHHlZFtS1eBPG2JsfnWzbMq9RKDCB7_H7BcePFFUY-FAV8kv8JGn1qx2k0sD4ikBa/s320/7+IMG_9619.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365024242686873842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtTdbFiGRX_UewPTl5lB9-jufXnBw_SogKo4P8hUulYRu9wG28Alu_0eFfBgymrpA7e_2WHMGjAkwGpE-p2S7Omr-9VyW5WrKXFynbShNOAwvv66VMgMx5vUScZqH4X1oHr3Fx0plPOFo/s1600-h/7+IMG_9618.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtTdbFiGRX_UewPTl5lB9-jufXnBw_SogKo4P8hUulYRu9wG28Alu_0eFfBgymrpA7e_2WHMGjAkwGpE-p2S7Omr-9VyW5WrKXFynbShNOAwvv66VMgMx5vUScZqH4X1oHr3Fx0plPOFo/s320/7+IMG_9618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365024235378316882" /></a> <br />Strangeness in the dust. Smiling feels wrong and my cheeks strangle. We slowly buy tickets. We walk toward a 60-foot tower—continuous windows crawl up all 4 sides to a pyramid roof of golden horns. We squint through the windows...the tower is filled with skulls, human skulls, 1000s of them, some in tact and others cracked, others with bullet holes, stacked on shelf after shelf. My mouth and eyes relax, my body aches, my naive heart squeezes. The front door is open.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaw5UFPUHkfLiIjEOX4nBThgZpB8B4JQsYqmDXTDaUoLxRx_c5JbU3AtM_HYBrpOGU3v2qwAZ-u401hYl94cRIi7Svv9xMhHt51ZY7pkxt2vMKOwXelRcuBLQj1VA5U07O61DD0J59OEc/s1600-h/3+IMG_9624.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaw5UFPUHkfLiIjEOX4nBThgZpB8B4JQsYqmDXTDaUoLxRx_c5JbU3AtM_HYBrpOGU3v2qwAZ-u401hYl94cRIi7Svv9xMhHt51ZY7pkxt2vMKOwXelRcuBLQj1VA5U07O61DD0J59OEc/s320/3+IMG_9624.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365012462017196034" /></a><br />We stand in front hearing recorded twing-twang music, instruments melancholy slow and drawn-out, over which crying vocals scant (imagine the sputtered hymns of a frail mother mourning her murdered child). It's all big and deep and creeps into OUR skulls. We stand there gripping incense and flowers, praying, paying respect. Then I realize a constant breeze, and hear children playing nearby. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-8Eg-rpXEbuMgj4V2fmjgvKH8hsn14jFN1df2ttEneBbWcLil40XeGpJH3Ufr0HU3fiEFiS3s9XsXpS9A2Qvu3fuDRSCh3B4R_hdI0V-ZbJOsdwedLlGcwEn_-XEfPly02C8x8k2C0Fz/s1600-h/1+IMG_9622.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-8Eg-rpXEbuMgj4V2fmjgvKH8hsn14jFN1df2ttEneBbWcLil40XeGpJH3Ufr0HU3fiEFiS3s9XsXpS9A2Qvu3fuDRSCh3B4R_hdI0V-ZbJOsdwedLlGcwEn_-XEfPly02C8x8k2C0Fz/s320/1+IMG_9622.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365012447954785842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg75D9fvsyFAmlbVLp_jlAPvpib6vPO2ohsWjoyfUZfxcBM3u8mF32Swbbc85987jNoIvu3jGp2t1dd6fRWPqVInD5B53iIS2pDdAp7qCt9eXU6-r_wrgG6jR6w8wNcJU4q8F03jf-IP4CI/s1600-h/2+IMG_9623.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg75D9fvsyFAmlbVLp_jlAPvpib6vPO2ohsWjoyfUZfxcBM3u8mF32Swbbc85987jNoIvu3jGp2t1dd6fRWPqVInD5B53iIS2pDdAp7qCt9eXU6-r_wrgG6jR6w8wNcJU4q8F03jf-IP4CI/s320/2+IMG_9623.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365012452395121186" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3ppgdyFJUC42P8NMh4TZWwK_T6SY9jCCZdF-nfR4ED6biI9br0NclxeBzvuDFi6s2X-4vMsgppGgKU3WPbHHwa0by432q5V9ECQo4prtzhHYmeLB1_qpt63Fz1_AqM0tFyr5J_J2eTTc/s1600-h/2+IMG_9628.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3ppgdyFJUC42P8NMh4TZWwK_T6SY9jCCZdF-nfR4ED6biI9br0NclxeBzvuDFi6s2X-4vMsgppGgKU3WPbHHwa0by432q5V9ECQo4prtzhHYmeLB1_qpt63Fz1_AqM0tFyr5J_J2eTTc/s320/2+IMG_9628.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365012458308044546" /></a><br />I leave the Jen and Brad at the memorial. In the distance I see a chain-link fence. It stretches out far behind the memorial. I cannot see where it ends. Along its edge, outside the park, young local boys play like boys will—shows of bravado, shoves and punches, and behind them (surrounding the whole Killing Fields) is a vast, sun-scorched rice farm. <br /><br />I crouch behind a tree and take candid photos of the kids, but they notice me and start posing funny, so I take a few more. Then I approach them. When I'm close (dang the rice farm is reeeally decrepit) they stretch their arms through the fence begging, whining. I see the grease in their hair, their crusty nostrils and dusty foreheads; some clasp their hands prayer-like. I can't help but shell out 3 dollars but they don't stop begging. Can't afford to save the world. I continue along a trail which runs parallel to the fence. I pass by countless half-sphere holes, each at least 20ft in diameter, obvious mass graves. Then I come to a large, still lake, which marks the back of The Killing Fields. Haunting. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkhSwo5nDyhztrcUH7ovxzlYcKnOFK6IQiUz9jMYtif3OnQMFuWDNLG0NCorGkg8HHNkmw5CRqRapre59kDsb8lAQ5jkn3blcGR0_HciNxcLUswYpAWE7FOBRDBqDHc4qhsPdm-JoFctM/s1600-h/4+IMG_9632.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkhSwo5nDyhztrcUH7ovxzlYcKnOFK6IQiUz9jMYtif3OnQMFuWDNLG0NCorGkg8HHNkmw5CRqRapre59kDsb8lAQ5jkn3blcGR0_HciNxcLUswYpAWE7FOBRDBqDHc4qhsPdm-JoFctM/s320/4+IMG_9632.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365018270503103090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrc-6vyYEUz6NwGbeGf8hKPOV8NQH_I0_pO-JPCHyNiE9-y-vDsNCybkddG72Q8bqAtznWJ909Tr9nllU417Zq0YtnhEN74SSF47jnf3XcU0a6UamzvJ7O-2mcFLKY-VGv0mHTLfO1_EZ/s1600-h/4+IMG_9633.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrc-6vyYEUz6NwGbeGf8hKPOV8NQH_I0_pO-JPCHyNiE9-y-vDsNCybkddG72Q8bqAtznWJ909Tr9nllU417Zq0YtnhEN74SSF47jnf3XcU0a6UamzvJ7O-2mcFLKY-VGv0mHTLfO1_EZ/s320/4+IMG_9633.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365018278029982466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic62c5FPUq4qWLsAmQFrJGoBGgILK2RhUo9E6PfkYpwAS1sGpwEXlH3ynfFL5UmJx7bAbRVDuA0y5S3So47glwVOljme9zWxB9rv2zsKIKVNMe5pOzzQRTUmC9Dd8XPKW4JQpUKv4rN5El/s1600-h/6+IMG_9642.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic62c5FPUq4qWLsAmQFrJGoBGgILK2RhUo9E6PfkYpwAS1sGpwEXlH3ynfFL5UmJx7bAbRVDuA0y5S3So47glwVOljme9zWxB9rv2zsKIKVNMe5pOzzQRTUmC9Dd8XPKW4JQpUKv4rN5El/s320/6+IMG_9642.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365022571594092722" /></a><br />I walk the lake's edge and 1 boy follows from behind the fence “Pleeease-low. Monee-low. I have no fooood-low. I have no peellow-low. No penseel-low. Pleease monee-lowwww” and he follows me crying these things over and over until after 15 minutes of walking I break and fork something over. Another boy runs right up and the routine repeats, but now I've finished the trail. I can see the memorial. I walk toward the interior, away from the sad kids. <br /><br />I weave between more mass graves. There's a tree with human bones around its roots. Stop, look down. A canine is beside my shoe.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxwZQbRCtzI8SsNtFv7Iy7qdWEy5LbfrMo5z_-VYYSkqJ-4YWqrX4fyHwUHoDHvbLPeSoWZM1uB60zuvPPs8XKN_KIaygOv0F4pFzkJ72vovGE9EtzBpAhNQVL9RPMSxl2aX4VtFDYP1C/s1600-h/6+IMG_9638.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxwZQbRCtzI8SsNtFv7Iy7qdWEy5LbfrMo5z_-VYYSkqJ-4YWqrX4fyHwUHoDHvbLPeSoWZM1uB60zuvPPs8XKN_KIaygOv0F4pFzkJ72vovGE9EtzBpAhNQVL9RPMSxl2aX4VtFDYP1C/s320/6+IMG_9638.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365018291204616402" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEEhEs8LuyIm5xzN8ljNn6L7MaT6HuCZNeI9k4o95T-N7i3mQielUCIZePtPTpvBvK8FEOlIYbjGBLncQV3HPvFcmyLnWkvn8PadIao45v6sGh4hbl1FFGDJgTTJZ0RTjwOGSCZVy2pLg/s1600-h/6+IMG_9640.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEEhEs8LuyIm5xzN8ljNn6L7MaT6HuCZNeI9k4o95T-N7i3mQielUCIZePtPTpvBvK8FEOlIYbjGBLncQV3HPvFcmyLnWkvn8PadIao45v6sGh4hbl1FFGDJgTTJZ0RTjwOGSCZVy2pLg/s320/6+IMG_9640.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365018295226573522" /></a> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiBWaxHCW-uTx-PcR9HmFg3IeTGE4c_8SAwq5OLlBAJA42y2TBmBbF7bcRFSNRljipySo04-dtFx_ifnJF4sCMjx6f9_9DVE0_7msdk0HpqzN-Y4Aw6DCuuOcI8sSYOBCtCfpZQGuy5_R/s1600-h/3+IMG_9629.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiBWaxHCW-uTx-PcR9HmFg3IeTGE4c_8SAwq5OLlBAJA42y2TBmBbF7bcRFSNRljipySo04-dtFx_ifnJF4sCMjx6f9_9DVE0_7msdk0HpqzN-Y4Aw6DCuuOcI8sSYOBCtCfpZQGuy5_R/s320/3+IMG_9629.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365012471176621794" /></a><br /><br />We arrive S.21. I walk inside a cell. On the wall is a life-size photo of someone killed by electric torture. Blood drips from the cringing corpse, like oil. My heart vices in vomit. My every muscle and my every fiber of my every ligament shudders. Indigestion boils so I seek refuge in the sun, but my familiar star's without reassurance. Instead it shouts sourness inside me, and I'm blanketed in horrid nostalgia: I feel the power of mad spirits yelling at me, and yet, these ghastly phantasms are arm-locked with innocence; I concurrently feel the good souls of the murdered, the hundreds upon thousands of good people victimized in the sad despot insanity.<br />It's overwhelming.<br /><br />rules for the prisoners<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYavbMqJs5U9_w1AQSPlx2zmwHFQ3gWlJJ3umhT-qH3mhjdltmQykkg810O9khtFgr9FBIQsCM37dzHQCwMSJTzY-cmCCLneYo4R63irJb93X0qOZbnkXHxjhYpEiDkOMu9aOO2ttlwlL/s1600-h/6+IMG_9643.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYavbMqJs5U9_w1AQSPlx2zmwHFQ3gWlJJ3umhT-qH3mhjdltmQykkg810O9khtFgr9FBIQsCM37dzHQCwMSJTzY-cmCCLneYo4R63irJb93X0qOZbnkXHxjhYpEiDkOMu9aOO2ttlwlL/s320/6+IMG_9643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365022576809696834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdlZKYmJd4N5O-PuaONeBJ1le5djqVRd808tar6wAApQTlg3nb9L5T0r17Xw2sDb81EyaSpu3rywA7ptxGd2hsfHIDKfv_W7ScNDvFGZCWs3PwWRwG2dYLhCyuq29SaptuglW7JrmAjGQ/s1600-h/6+IMG_9644.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdlZKYmJd4N5O-PuaONeBJ1le5djqVRd808tar6wAApQTlg3nb9L5T0r17Xw2sDb81EyaSpu3rywA7ptxGd2hsfHIDKfv_W7ScNDvFGZCWs3PwWRwG2dYLhCyuq29SaptuglW7JrmAjGQ/s320/6+IMG_9644.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365022580076049490" /></a><br />Eventually, you walk into another 4-story building. The bottom floor is 1 single hall. Large boards fill it, on which countless mugshots are plastered... men, women, children, elders, many with bruised brows, swollen cheeks and ears, matted hair. But it's their eyes that haunt you the most. In every shot the inmate looks directly into the camera, expressions of confused terror, or pure animosity. Even more, you know portrait paintings where the subject's eyes follow you? Most are like that. A horrific gauntlet.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghj29a54fhqsopNhfhL_BuI3EJ_9ie8AE_fafARLL_gXdXkeYP9yRsqLkV-Cw2TlSr6LNLtQ39JkyNYi29RZ7nGV6_JgrL58PteGBzuthGeVBrveGc909B41SvJd0Px03TIyIyAKu8i7v/s1600-h/6+IMG_9646.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghj29a54fhqsopNhfhL_BuI3EJ_9ie8AE_fafARLL_gXdXkeYP9yRsqLkV-Cw2TlSr6LNLtQ39JkyNYi29RZ7nGV6_JgrL58PteGBzuthGeVBrveGc909B41SvJd0Px03TIyIyAKu8i7v/s320/6+IMG_9646.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365022589183512114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzTitZDdxaeQtfRncvb9yq-q5ONnDLlmQvrezfdm5KM3Aqir-TvdqpuyaTJDlphyphenhyphenbu1sY14lqn8p-b7m5j9Ax8mdjBX7IaSjmHSzGpJDw2qO7jFSSphMTOOGZuRYCTw-4HHBortDQZDH8/s1600-h/Ac.khmerrouge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzTitZDdxaeQtfRncvb9yq-q5ONnDLlmQvrezfdm5KM3Aqir-TvdqpuyaTJDlphyphenhyphenbu1sY14lqn8p-b7m5j9Ax8mdjBX7IaSjmHSzGpJDw2qO7jFSSphMTOOGZuRYCTw-4HHBortDQZDH8/s320/Ac.khmerrouge.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365035532902420626" /></a><br />You walk toward another building. The breezeways are wrapped with barb wire. A sign explains that all 4 buildings were once like this. It prevented inmates from jumping. It prevented suicides. Now inside a room. Shabby brick walls divide it into smaller cells, individual holding cells. You walk in one and see chains mortared in the brick. Another cell has a battery on the ground, clearly once used for electric torture. <br /><br />We've all felt deeply disturbed by something, disturbed to the point of confusion. When you're young and naively exist in a fog of innocence, true-evil is a fairytale. Then 1 day you experience something inherently wrong, something totally faux pas to you, and life becomes understood on a much truer level. Jen, Brad, and I began the day abreast; we ended it wide-eye hunched over.Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-7830783941365816742009-02-10T12:40:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:56:08.317-07:00Saigon<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14866?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />Saigon, aka Ho Chi Minh City, was one big reunion! We ended up meeting back with 3 guys from Tazmania, 4 girls from Australia and 1 girl from Los Angeles, all of whom we had met somewhere along the line while traveling in Vietnam. We even met up with 2 guys from SDSU, one of which was teaching English there. Generally reunions mean rejoicing and lots of partying, this held true in Saigon no doubt!<br /><br />Night 1- It turns out to be the Tazmanian's last night of their 4 month journey around Southeast Asia and naturally we feel obliged to send them off with a bang. We call our friend Ben who is teaching in Saigon, he tells us he is down to go out and he knows some cool clubs to go to. The pre-party takes place at the Tazzy boys hotel. It gets out of hand as they are not holding out by any means on their last night and we cant be downers so we of course join in on the chaos. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUk_Sxwpk-Yz284HLBB1mMSKAWMwh6sDzrcGUzLHSdoUXNjYdpgr4YFMJIVT-LukyXJGZtW88SXnFjhuSEr0EpQUxET9Yop2U9Gb3Vbi0_0aIKFiM-Ygwk6JBF1fdj67vFDd0fnvQ4BZB8/s1600-h/P1050123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUk_Sxwpk-Yz284HLBB1mMSKAWMwh6sDzrcGUzLHSdoUXNjYdpgr4YFMJIVT-LukyXJGZtW88SXnFjhuSEr0EpQUxET9Yop2U9Gb3Vbi0_0aIKFiM-Ygwk6JBF1fdj67vFDd0fnvQ4BZB8/s320/P1050123.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354326754391897602" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGr1j95PY2OKxD2L0N5Yoq4WmLtOsUuB1VxpS-3BK4hxU4oN_qUAOHh0IMFAuTTzeswcEge-HKGofoy6Z_ogNil0YWIr7Cp0CvNuls2qYKFEwTSU4oIB6FtPRGMk8_MMhGDg9OAUYC6JI/s1600-h/P1050121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGr1j95PY2OKxD2L0N5Yoq4WmLtOsUuB1VxpS-3BK4hxU4oN_qUAOHh0IMFAuTTzeswcEge-HKGofoy6Z_ogNil0YWIr7Cp0CvNuls2qYKFEwTSU4oIB6FtPRGMk8_MMhGDg9OAUYC6JI/s320/P1050121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354326748763143218" /></a><br />Preparty with the boys from Tazzy<br /><br />To make a long story short, our night consisted of the following: going to a club infested with lady boys and middle-aged white men all over them, then heading to another not because we werent having fun, but more so because we were scared and disgusted at what we had witnessed. We went to another bar near our hotel and saw the Tazzy boys off around 3am as they had an early flight to catch back home. Everyone else went their separate ways and I go to the convenient store for some water. Completely randomly I see my Australian friend Phoebe whom I met in Hanoi and spent a good week or so with traveling! She is teaching English in Saigon and only has a few weeks left so she too in going out with a bang as well.<br /><br />Its nearly 4am; we end up having beers on a stairwell until 6am and in that time her Vietnamese friend Huong and some random New Zealander with the biggest hair ever join us. Im extremely hungry at this point and ask if anyone is up for breakfast. We cruise across the street to a bar that serves breakfast and have some baguettes and eggs while the Cher-obsessed bar tender blasts that awful attempt at a comeback, “Do you believe in love?”. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTfpZwp5tQK_ZntuHJw08vZNbsdlHGWUxustDBXE3cSQxhECsiF0Zvm4h92ZBQUFIbVYA4MjcdgQzT0q5PaEGJ5mYsue6qysmh1wo-eZkcVGZJRH_e8BzJqgsc64w2j5gRblNV38mXM84/s1600-h/P1050125.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTfpZwp5tQK_ZntuHJw08vZNbsdlHGWUxustDBXE3cSQxhECsiF0Zvm4h92ZBQUFIbVYA4MjcdgQzT0q5PaEGJ5mYsue6qysmh1wo-eZkcVGZJRH_e8BzJqgsc64w2j5gRblNV38mXM84/s320/P1050125.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354326765194316562" /></a><br />Phoebe and I deciding what to order...6am<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHpz4EHY-S4jupzNmidyV-C4bsLKpsxWsNJdQQrtQXg4d1XYhM-ejsZc8IPtGwKDEIqF6a24Gur4-21VBpamLKEmw4jg6YyxekjxW_mfwajRXiGGB-D4iptpbAjsdI62wPhldfAh_-f2K/s1600-h/P1050124.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHpz4EHY-S4jupzNmidyV-C4bsLKpsxWsNJdQQrtQXg4d1XYhM-ejsZc8IPtGwKDEIqF6a24Gur4-21VBpamLKEmw4jg6YyxekjxW_mfwajRXiGGB-D4iptpbAjsdI62wPhldfAh_-f2K/s320/P1050124.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354326762023486354" /></a><br />Biggest Hair ever!!!<br /><br />Huong blurts out that she has some Mandarine Vodka at her apartment and invites us to go drink some with her. I look outside, the sun is beginning to rise, people are beginning their days; my night has not ended. I figure Im already in the red, may as well see how far this train goes right? Its kinda like when you wake up really late, think about how you have wasted your day and how much you suck; then go right back to sleep...haha!<br /><br />We spill into the streets, shading our eyes like drunken vampires. Head down the adjacent street and walk a few blocks to Huong's apartment. The door creaks open as her sleeping cousins wiggle around on the floor which they sleep on. We tip toe to the balcony which doubles as the kitchen...weird. Huong whips up the interesting cocktail of apple juice and Mandarin vodka for us...there is nothing like a cocktail at 7am in Saigon let me tell you!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmhjGADzmzsmND_IPOT1p4Wr6-YI3CKpX8ZX3evRDynquosfpywYvbeFuytkMdGL1AJ65FCrRt66_P-2tZyOPP6CZR6qKwxyA49lFngAfCvdp_3RIOiIHH2yGdOw1b4WqXvFHOsgjVHcP/s1600-h/P1050126.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmhjGADzmzsmND_IPOT1p4Wr6-YI3CKpX8ZX3evRDynquosfpywYvbeFuytkMdGL1AJ65FCrRt66_P-2tZyOPP6CZR6qKwxyA49lFngAfCvdp_3RIOiIHH2yGdOw1b4WqXvFHOsgjVHcP/s320/P1050126.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354326772717012402" /></a><br />Absolute Manadarin and Apple juice on Huongs Balcony<br /><br />Our delirious minds create the most random/hilarious conversation topics ever. We laugh for hours until our stomachs hurt and our livers cry; all the while watching the streets of Saigon come alive. 9am rolls around and Phoebe and I decide to call it quits. We thank Huong for the unexpectedly amazing morning at her apartment and for the delicious cocktails. I walk Phoebe back to her apartment and we end up talking on her door step for another two hours about lord knows what. 11 am rears its ugly head and I realize its an hour until noon! I say my farwells to Phoebe, try to orient myself in the city and head home. On the way I cant help but have a huge grin on my face. I cant really pinpoint what exactly made the night/morning so great and memorable, but it just was. I will never hear the phrase “Good Morning Vietnam!”, the same ever again.<br /><br />We also went to the Cu Chi tunnels that were used by the Vietnamese during the war. It was an incredible experience being in these tiny tunnels that the Vietcong lived, breathed and fought from. Here is a little Wikipedia exert for ya on the tunnels...<br /><br />The tunnels of Củ Chi are an immense network of connecting underground tunnels located in the Củ Chi district of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam, and are part of a much larger network of tunnels that underlie much of the country. The Củ Chi tunnels were the location of several military campaigns during the Vietnam War, and were the Viet Cong's base of operations for the Tết Offensive in 1968.<br /><br />The tunnels were used by Viet Cong guerrillas as hiding spots during combat, as well as serving as communication and supply routes, hospitals, food and weapon caches and living quarters for numerous guerrilla fighters. The role of the tunnel systems should not be underestimated in its importance to the Viet Cong in resisting American operations and protracting the war, eventually persuading the weary Americans into withdrawal.<br /><br />And now some pictures...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieylqKXxzL5kWbo_3BhY-rpGTljTGR0LVd6ea8u6wyoJp2dQUDo_i5b9j_e9q4qnJCE06gBbyh-yyAgatgdZbzmAQ-CzAs5UhVpefizOywtaPuVPlr665QZJGrW_Sm1UoP298uByxQ6qEv/s1600-h/P1050166.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieylqKXxzL5kWbo_3BhY-rpGTljTGR0LVd6ea8u6wyoJp2dQUDo_i5b9j_e9q4qnJCE06gBbyh-yyAgatgdZbzmAQ-CzAs5UhVpefizOywtaPuVPlr665QZJGrW_Sm1UoP298uByxQ6qEv/s320/P1050166.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354330378715427186" /></a><br />Inside the tunnels!!!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm5KMnkefZ0yucsf8VKYIoXkDb1pSRtATrkWaJSy9TWDkEXjmsXZWvMA-wiAQ-KQV0nQZk29AlRAsuj09z_ZdaD6x95DKR0vwGqNY-iYcrIvaz3UIu8Hh4VwGISUDbKOxQjAHBWCent9pz/s1600-h/P1050159.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm5KMnkefZ0yucsf8VKYIoXkDb1pSRtATrkWaJSy9TWDkEXjmsXZWvMA-wiAQ-KQV0nQZk29AlRAsuj09z_ZdaD6x95DKR0vwGqNY-iYcrIvaz3UIu8Hh4VwGISUDbKOxQjAHBWCent9pz/s320/P1050159.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354330375541480738" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64oIhxaeUy0AQZK5b4llqrr997josyGX4Bh8piIvr5_cFaPfyvnTo_-5o5-trEe8QsWovkLaMyp6H96hboAVEV5njfJewVfV0v9RX475o3qgvb88fJU57FOXdQHlkLvYwpPXgG9rjNZZQ/s1600-h/P1050155.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64oIhxaeUy0AQZK5b4llqrr997josyGX4Bh8piIvr5_cFaPfyvnTo_-5o5-trEe8QsWovkLaMyp6H96hboAVEV5njfJewVfV0v9RX475o3qgvb88fJU57FOXdQHlkLvYwpPXgG9rjNZZQ/s320/P1050155.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354330371249350482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTgOUv7CjXQe3ReAJP4IPeCcsfkaYQGKxFqe42usi0spO_Y_H2wfl1dcaUjFKJnxHHEOcDesZWpnK0KRsDEtA_DI9g6L7eAX_xCSu676uPXGnaGv4Wr0CwLRY60X9ekA0KRd977EO1WTB/s1600-h/P1050149.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTgOUv7CjXQe3ReAJP4IPeCcsfkaYQGKxFqe42usi0spO_Y_H2wfl1dcaUjFKJnxHHEOcDesZWpnK0KRsDEtA_DI9g6L7eAX_xCSu676uPXGnaGv4Wr0CwLRY60X9ekA0KRd977EO1WTB/s320/P1050149.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354330362606344914" /></a><br />The Vietcong would hide these traps with leaves and such and the enemy would fall right into them unknowingly<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRZpSe_aRxd-6sPGLsZq5fXt8Zx8OBmopxcUJb7d-ENlFf4KUSzhUr_nqWlid481Pr7DHeNqI1VhhY1WPX5LewCSvNjoThwTW0roYH-ssVVlw6YY-sDcwvzneSkEe89CfGcwQLZ7VBJlw/s1600-h/P1050139.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRZpSe_aRxd-6sPGLsZq5fXt8Zx8OBmopxcUJb7d-ENlFf4KUSzhUr_nqWlid481Pr7DHeNqI1VhhY1WPX5LewCSvNjoThwTW0roYH-ssVVlw6YY-sDcwvzneSkEe89CfGcwQLZ7VBJlw/s320/P1050139.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354330358487702066" /></a><br />Alice trying to fit into one of the secret holes the Vietcong used to pop out of<br /><br />Bradon's last night- Two of the girls, Rumi + Lizzie, and I were the only ones up for going out for drinks. We headed for GO2 bar just down the street from our hotel, where we met Phoebe and Huong, whom I had called earlier in the day to invite out. It was 2 for 1 drinks on the rooftop so naturally we couldnt resist. We were having a great time until the rats decided to join the party around 2am. They were absolutely massive and were scurrying around like they owned the joint! Turns out Rumi is EXTREMELY scared of rats, so she had to get out of their, Lizzie was tired so they walked home together.<br /><br />That left the morning crew from the other night, minus the random New Zealand guy. We head downstairs to the street corner, share a few more drinks, while onlooking at the chaos of Saigon. Huong begins to fade around 4am, so we walk her home. She does have work in the morning, so it was a valiant effort on her part indeed. As we walk back to the bar, Phoebe comes up with the idea to grab some beers, head to the nearby park and watch the apparently hilarious Vietnamese people do their morning exercises. She has a great sense of humor so I know it will be funny; within 30 minutes we are on a park bench, eagerly awaiting the morning exercisers, beers in hand.<br /><br />They begin to enter the park from all angles; spandex, sweatband, cross-trainer laced with the latest in 1980's exercise attire. Im already amused by, but in no way was I prepared for how hilarious this morning was going to be. Here are just a few characters I witnessed that legendary morning:<br /><br />Exerciser #1- An old man, probably in his 70's, dressed in all shades of white and white only. He is laying on a bench, face up, doing imaginary pushups while riding an imaginary airbike with the lower portion of his body.<br />Exerciser #2- A younger Vietnamese girl, leaning up against a tree for balance. She is lifting her right knee up repeadedly for a good 50 repititions at a time, then she switches it to the other leg.<br />Exerciser #3- A middle-aged woman wearing my personal favorite, pink spandex. She is walking laps around the park; first with her hands at her sides, then thrusting them above her head, commencing with a clap and then repeating this ridiculous action.<br />Exerciser #4- One of the coolest guys on the planet for sure, a 60 something year old man with sweatbands and short shorts on. This guy is whimsical let me tell you; he has realized the nonsense of working out appendages and only works out what really matters, the pelvic area! I literally watched this guy thrust his pelvic area back and forth, left to right, up and out...for a solid 30 minutes at least. My jaw was open in amazement the entire time as Phoebe and I ate it up, laughing uncontrollably. I even caught this miracle in action on video. By far one of the funniest things I have witnessed in my life...WOW!!!<br /><br />These are just a few of the people, imagine this going on all around the park; everyone doing some sort of ridiculous, non strenuous exercise. Im awestruck, confused and so happy at the same time. Im convinced that this has to be one of the best free forms of entertainment in the world today without a doubt. But one thing really puzzles me; why do all these people, with exception to the walker and joggers, have to go the park to do these comical exercises? One can do imaginary pushups, ride imaginary bicycles, lift there legs repeadtedly and pelvic thrust the morning away in the comfort of their own homes. Moreover, where did these people learn these exercises? Did they see a dude in the park one day trying to get some exercise and decide to follow suite? Are there just no gyms in Saigon? These questions and more race through my beer-saturated mind as I try to make sense of what I am seeing.<br /><br />All of a sudden the sound of sweet-cheesy techno music fills my ears. I look to see where it is coming from, I scan the park and see to my right about 30 or so spandex-clad Vietnamese women doing synchronized techno aerobics! Oh my lord! I didnt think this morning could get any more ridiculous or histerical, but it just did! I love house music, but the music they are exercising to is awful; its hard techno beats with what sounds like a little girl singing over it. At home no one would be able to do group workouts to this music because everyone would be bursting out in laughter. Not in Vietnam, they are digging it and in serious workout mode.<br /><br /> Phoebe turns to me with a devious grin on her face and asks, “Do you want to join them?”. Once again, the day has already begun, my night has yet to end. Im drinking beer in a park in Saigon...why not? We cautiously join the back of the group, take a few seconds to catch the beat and begin to mimic the exercise moves they are doing. Im not gonna lie, within 5 minutes I was into it, I kind of understand why people do group exercise now...haha! Everytime I peered over at Phoebe I had to hold in my laughter due to the hilarious circumstances we had put ourselves under. Mind you, I am the only guy in the group, Im white, Im a head taller than everyone there and to top it off Im wearing the brightest t-shirt I own, an electric teal Zoo York shirt! Im standing out like a sore thumb, while Phoebe can kind of get away with it. But I could care less, Im having a great time, lauhing all the while on the inside AND Im getting some exercise!<br /><br />And man was I getting some exercise, after about 10 minutes or so I was getting extremely winded...I dont get much exercise here on the road aside from the beer/vodka curls I do all too often. Luckily for me the music ends abruptly for break time; Phoebe and I realize its our opportunity to escape so we scurry away like we stole something. I realize I have a bus to catch in about an hour. I give my biggest thanks to Phoebe for the delightfully hilarious morning that I will never forget and I make my way back to the hotel...Ill be on the Mekong Delta enroute to Cambodia in a few hours time, life is crazy!!!Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-39436344955262999752009-02-05T01:56:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:57:02.458-07:00Vietnam- Mui NeOne of my favorite hip hop artists by far, I cant stop listeing to his album LOST, had to share it with yall...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ir2ResEU-Wc&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embedsrc="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ir2ResEU-Wc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></object><br /><br />Mui Ne is known as the kite-surfing mecca of SE Asia, it was news to me though that they even had kite-surfing in SE Asia, to be honest we were just there for the beach. This little beach town is a popular stop for those traveling the length of Vietnam because it serves as a nice little half time break between the pandemonium of Hanoi in the North and the chaos of Saigon in the south. Garrett and I shacked up at Bungalows that lay about 30 feet from the only bar in town, Wax Bar. Our Aussie friends, Lizzie and Alice, joined us on the 2nd day as they were stuck in the last town of Hoi An getting more clothes tailored. <br /><br />With them they brought 3 fellow backpackers they met on the bus, Tom, Taz and Tim, who all happened to be from Tazmania. To this day they're the only people from Tazmania I've met. And thats not a good thing, these guys were a riot and I only wish I could meet more backpackers like them! The 5 of them all checked into the same bungalows as us and let me tell you; Us + 5 Aussies + Nearby Bar=TROUBLE!!! Needless to say we were at the bar everynight exchanging war stories about life at home, as well on the road, dancing up a storm and of course drinking excessively!<br /><br />Most of the days were spent lounging on the beach and eating at our favorite restaurant down the beach a bit, where you would literally sit in the sand while you enjoy your delightful $3 meal. But on day 4 we decided to stop being lazy/hungover and take a tour and see what else Mui Ne had to offer. We started off by loading into 2 U.S. Army jeeps left from the war. I called dibs on the back seat and sitting in that seat was worth the $8 I paid for the all-day tour alone, so much fun! After a brief photo-stop at the fishing village we arrived at our first real destination. This place was pretty much just a rivine of red dirt. We were all waiting for see something cool, but it never happened. I think the people of Mui Ne just had nothing much else to show off so the red dirt rivine qualified as tourism material for lack of anything cooler.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJ8CTW0x84w6Xioz8verIas1edOelqgwN4A1443ViDKriPr5Di2y82uL8aCMrEMydJiY0XQ5pYaodEu0Ul0gOJgSbKXyxLxFh5g7vOzhY7HiyJzz8IHnGNKhyEJWLnc0cGxeGZ4wcghsP/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJ8CTW0x84w6Xioz8verIas1edOelqgwN4A1443ViDKriPr5Di2y82uL8aCMrEMydJiY0XQ5pYaodEu0Ul0gOJgSbKXyxLxFh5g7vOzhY7HiyJzz8IHnGNKhyEJWLnc0cGxeGZ4wcghsP/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360139088810207058" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQc3b_xpOWXpZeRdgSOFyA72DX-sc2gtr6YIclbbLv1k-9L0z7wULwg43pNkRTYj1COH0oxeOWIAbsIRY0OxwBpifxDQ0d7vGsUXT1DRA0qMkHAHtvMWfzzB8PUoz5cQt1WF5mZjTZAsHE/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQc3b_xpOWXpZeRdgSOFyA72DX-sc2gtr6YIclbbLv1k-9L0z7wULwg43pNkRTYj1COH0oxeOWIAbsIRY0OxwBpifxDQ0d7vGsUXT1DRA0qMkHAHtvMWfzzB8PUoz5cQt1WF5mZjTZAsHE/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360139092036853282" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br />After visiting the rivine of broken dreams and being hasseled by our 6 year old guide for tips for walking us through his shitty rivine we were off to see what else we could find. The drive to the next stop was actually quite beautiful. The coastline met the desert and we got to enjoy this clash of scenery from a genuine jeep from the Vietnam war....not bad! Next stop was yet another red dirt attraction. This was a mini-version of the Grand Canyon I guess, it was cool though. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDV8kX5WPvTgbxbZaKXiz1U-83C1pLdRMd_8eqozT3w2dkriU8sCtWbHdhGDYT_0rDxk5qvWBXXoMcOzS58nF05X4gyaB2v9j75pKAKDjgbbt9U92IoNabjbUaaQFCo__3t0ZULPMjwpt/s1600-h/rd2"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBDV8kX5WPvTgbxbZaKXiz1U-83C1pLdRMd_8eqozT3w2dkriU8sCtWbHdhGDYT_0rDxk5qvWBXXoMcOzS58nF05X4gyaB2v9j75pKAKDjgbbt9U92IoNabjbUaaQFCo__3t0ZULPMjwpt/s320/rd2" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340978722556882882" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoobUiYyOBw7SOWJecaD_yngCP2nxnx8qkPb9Nl1KjP3TaJDjgErxc894-1xbsMlgn8hav0F_OIM42qU58NeMjmIprncEvRYrxpFqSZ7LRk1cD6l-N9td0JzBL3O6OpFvv-yINqodjqBid/s1600-h/rd1"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoobUiYyOBw7SOWJecaD_yngCP2nxnx8qkPb9Nl1KjP3TaJDjgErxc894-1xbsMlgn8hav0F_OIM42qU58NeMjmIprncEvRYrxpFqSZ7LRk1cD6l-N9td0JzBL3O6OpFvv-yINqodjqBid/s320/rd1" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340978716027340306" border="0"></a><br /><br />An washboard road served as our route to the next stop on the tour. The Jeep came to a stop near a still lake, with white sanddunes providing the backdrop. Word on the streets was that you could slide down the dunes on sheets of plastic you rented from kids near the dunes, yes! I paid my hard-earned dollar after bargaining with the little men and there I had it...revenge!... I tried to slide down the dunes on Frasier Island (Australia) but failed miserably, but I was confident today would be the day I would reclaim my pride. Something in the air told me today was the day! Within a 5-minute walk I saw the massive giants I would be defacing soon enough! I haven't seen many dunes in my life so I dont have much to compare, but they were massive!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXEBjqQbANFL9Unx_5ecGW9BdTpmeCrRXajSLM4iSCwDHXVFVVrThwNvadTKf3dSsWcn0hcJ3RJfNyOwIiS6TS3wItkUKcoC2gBBFUR6zjvp7aa4DZJH_tOpcMHjjWyt2cpg1vto91UDm/s1600-h/n626970340_5931345_9352.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXEBjqQbANFL9Unx_5ecGW9BdTpmeCrRXajSLM4iSCwDHXVFVVrThwNvadTKf3dSsWcn0hcJ3RJfNyOwIiS6TS3wItkUKcoC2gBBFUR6zjvp7aa4DZJH_tOpcMHjjWyt2cpg1vto91UDm/s320/n626970340_5931345_9352.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360138036511654226" border="0"></a><br /><br />Immaculately shaped and absolutely brilliant to look at these dunes were! Some were as tall as they were deep. My mind could not help but wonder what kind of havoc skateboarders would reek on this place if the dunes were covered in cement, 'skate-heaven on Earth' no doubt! As I stared off into the the distance like a Gucci model, it hit me this was all a part of the plans of the dune; make me awstruck with their beauty and make me forget about the task at hand... revenge! You are good dunes, but not good enough! I grasped my thin sheet of plastic and B-lined it to the biggest one in sight. The walk was tiring to say the least, but I was determined! Staring down the incline was a bit intimidating but I was prepared. My 1st sleding attempt brought back relics of Frasier Islands as I hardly slid 1 foot. Embarrassed as ever I returned to the top more driven than ever! This time though I took about 5 steps back and got a running start. And just like that I was charging down the dune like a pro! aH! victory was mine and I could now call myself a man once again...finally!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfKQy4F04XPoS8QVJXPcYvwGYM1QAhL3pWv529no-KiRALIdb776cXprB3a0UowiKgKUxllhfZpUYegjQ6PpTM0jrmUsAFFNPiFLqLGb1dDWeOxjNn0PZfDuc64Ee-ksDvFrZZKnj4LZ6/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfKQy4F04XPoS8QVJXPcYvwGYM1QAhL3pWv529no-KiRALIdb776cXprB3a0UowiKgKUxllhfZpUYegjQ6PpTM0jrmUsAFFNPiFLqLGb1dDWeOxjNn0PZfDuc64Ee-ksDvFrZZKnj4LZ6/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360139095124254802" border="0"></a><br />Our Aussie Travel Mates, Alice and Lizzie<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PKK3CvMjgAApbeRG33fB0VtF-snUhTQO7icAOxP7kCIZvS0mLfJHp5G-rD-1mxnmdCwxLoH4tQjYMsYy-InOnr5u7V_cLQzAemPJlDrVjoDv1Wa9y8GDGMmF_egR-_HMnx415Bq-qwHs/s1600-h/8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PKK3CvMjgAApbeRG33fB0VtF-snUhTQO7icAOxP7kCIZvS0mLfJHp5G-rD-1mxnmdCwxLoH4tQjYMsYy-InOnr5u7V_cLQzAemPJlDrVjoDv1Wa9y8GDGMmF_egR-_HMnx415Bq-qwHs/s320/8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360140355763491442" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme9-CDU0haeBYBwDqVy5d_iuMuFqHtRTskPg2G4i7eEHrl1LjQztF4X7_4HRfrADrziKvYccImzWhhuR-9Il21ktuPiCxYDngT4YyXYFV7Gux-MJ7Cm3eioVPQlvhEAm0fSxpW8DFjfgn/s1600-h/7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme9-CDU0haeBYBwDqVy5d_iuMuFqHtRTskPg2G4i7eEHrl1LjQztF4X7_4HRfrADrziKvYccImzWhhuR-9Il21ktuPiCxYDngT4YyXYFV7Gux-MJ7Cm3eioVPQlvhEAm0fSxpW8DFjfgn/s320/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360140355333091842" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5OeR5qS66FL3h4_hccACWNARVjoPcjDPAVxUj6xeROPgKhiZqzpFiHIKU6bg9v75y1Prl2jnjeUd1yQ-0tessCeKi2I5MZqzviLa2PzmzRoL7osSoSQwlwIDTCVtVT9MhbhyphenhyphenOtiI06RB/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5OeR5qS66FL3h4_hccACWNARVjoPcjDPAVxUj6xeROPgKhiZqzpFiHIKU6bg9v75y1Prl2jnjeUd1yQ-0tessCeKi2I5MZqzviLa2PzmzRoL7osSoSQwlwIDTCVtVT9MhbhyphenhyphenOtiI06RB/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360140351898898370" border="0"></a><br />Alice and I making the horrible treck up the dune!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU12gtOXx3W39XorWQ8ZposD8LmE_uy2VEkrEoABCbZ8wXHnh2zkXa5nMFiEFZFOu0Dv1T3-7fR5huY1b8BqbQ9WNQ8llFt3Hq4n_Lgs4dgGdYW9VeSHxqEP0OkJl5FeX1vVur7jJ2CED/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU12gtOXx3W39XorWQ8ZposD8LmE_uy2VEkrEoABCbZ8wXHnh2zkXa5nMFiEFZFOu0Dv1T3-7fR5huY1b8BqbQ9WNQ8llFt3Hq4n_Lgs4dgGdYW9VeSHxqEP0OkJl5FeX1vVur7jJ2CED/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360140349085784962" border="0"></a> <br />The Tazzie Boys Feeling the Deep Burn!!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbCg4zdWhRMQqbUzz_eiTOCjTZM4wB7EiVy-Sr7bQYc6jwlNdU7nIn9FNNmvgEBTYcEVELGlZXBl3Y7hGPANY6TgbiR8WEj7Shyphenhyphen9vh6dS4K11Afe2Na5YhokPnmO_ZZmmFp0LMuLlavVz/s1600-h/mui+ne+2"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbCg4zdWhRMQqbUzz_eiTOCjTZM4wB7EiVy-Sr7bQYc6jwlNdU7nIn9FNNmvgEBTYcEVELGlZXBl3Y7hGPANY6TgbiR8WEj7Shyphenhyphen9vh6dS4K11Afe2Na5YhokPnmO_ZZmmFp0LMuLlavVz/s320/mui+ne+2" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340978263389682338" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEuqywuUY4NRpb86fm7Stc7NaNvQvfAChOURySWqX4FT2jlyyhCOL2V2SFoiJB4nKJP1IFDOaCx9NABzENHGqDOhbfVQSLGulI0L6d5YViRyQ_dJDaAZMfpsI2N-aNpHLsAGZuHWTCsx-/s1600-h/mui+ne+1"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEuqywuUY4NRpb86fm7Stc7NaNvQvfAChOURySWqX4FT2jlyyhCOL2V2SFoiJB4nKJP1IFDOaCx9NABzENHGqDOhbfVQSLGulI0L6d5YViRyQ_dJDaAZMfpsI2N-aNpHLsAGZuHWTCsx-/s320/mui+ne+1" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340978263354483266" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8r2g1JY1y7_Ni6l8aWq6qGV-tDE3ueRG0BKpvI7FUE-v7YqVz-VVwFFV33AVuc47Ni6s-Af8LTc-z1yuIZrnmfigNvYI8Gqd6A12_5rXllg2Ta-P7wKCVNGbXWDP-qIUegFhKyaQyied/s1600-h/mn3"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8r2g1JY1y7_Ni6l8aWq6qGV-tDE3ueRG0BKpvI7FUE-v7YqVz-VVwFFV33AVuc47Ni6s-Af8LTc-z1yuIZrnmfigNvYI8Gqd6A12_5rXllg2Ta-P7wKCVNGbXWDP-qIUegFhKyaQyied/s320/mn3" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340978258006846066" border="0"></a><br /><br /><br />All sarcasim aside though, sliding down these dunes was extremely addictive. The feeling was so unique, I felt like a kid who just learned how to ride a bike, I just wanted to do it over and over! The only problem is that dunes are made of sand...it's science, and sand is really soft and when you walk in it your feet sink, which makes climbing up steep dunes exhausting. I could only do about 3 runs before I was on my last ounce of strength, my mind was saying more more more, but my legs had checked out of the office for the day.<br /><br />As I lay lifeless on the sand, Taz points out an even bigger dune in the distance, 1 that I couldnt see from my previous vantage. This 1 was at least 3 times the size of the 1 just ridden. I thought to myself there was no way in hell I was going to do it. But now that I was a man again my ego began to get the best of me. That combined with some peer pressure was all it took; before I knew it I was at the ridge of this mammouth dune, starting down at the belly of the beast. I was genuiniely afraid of this one, but I figured how bad could sand really hurt me?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tQvwnfVS61WtCz2pxzkgQI2-FZ6d0ocw8Yt5Gvtd5aqj88drLiiq1WVsf0iCZe0bQaN4V-n-rfICuYDFY2GGTSRqvAUEtmFwPAlZL_JVF9TSC8wZ3BsYabNM5CyxUGevwC7FEZQHLEMi/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tQvwnfVS61WtCz2pxzkgQI2-FZ6d0ocw8Yt5Gvtd5aqj88drLiiq1WVsf0iCZe0bQaN4V-n-rfICuYDFY2GGTSRqvAUEtmFwPAlZL_JVF9TSC8wZ3BsYabNM5CyxUGevwC7FEZQHLEMi/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360139094721050338" border="0"></a><br />Walking to the big Kahuna!!<br /><br />The first half of the ride was pretty mellow and I thought to myself “This isnt so scary!” That was until I hit a bump followed by a much steeper incline that I didnt see coming 1 bit! This was all it took to officially put me into overdrive...!#@*! I sped out of control towards the plateu that would be the end of me. Inertia took it vast anger out on me as I slammed into the sand and rolled for a good 10ft or so. I rolled over, spit out the mouth full of sand and checked for any injuries. Nothing major luckily, just a few trophy cuts and scrapes to show some lucky ladies at the bar tonight...haha! That was definitely 1 of the craziest/unique/fun things I have ever done in my life...wow!<br /><br />Doin some warmup runs on the smaller stuff...<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz-T9-bDD9yifQA8RFbLBanSSMOTsCQHxJLvwY5HZ5G97tC1IaTT6BDJ1TL7gpfdL88alGEE56mOWhfdnoTVQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><object we="" finished="" off="" watching="" sunset="" at="" the="" beautiful="" red="" dunes.="" it="" was="" a="" great="" way="" to="" end="" an="" amazing="" day="" of="" touring="" mui="" ne.=""><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzP4Pph9Wrf0pkOCUJ9r7ecn3R2gtPomrVh9gtIjAv9-6oKaFRk4Qsb0pdCVXHPFUWsoIdLALtIN1Iz8YUzrg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><object id="BLOG_video-FAILED" class="BLOG_video_class" contentid="FAILED" width="320" height="266"></object><object id="BLOG_video-FAILED" class="BLOG_video_class" contentid="FAILED" width="320" height="266"></object></object<br />Video evidence of me taking on THE MONSTER dune...INTENSE!!! Notice how small I am compared to the dune, this thing was massive!!!Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-55018484032584147812009-02-01T08:59:00.000-08:002009-08-13T06:58:22.088-07:00Hoi AnHoi An is home to the famous Vietnamese tailors. We spent the better part of 4 days getting sized, fitted, re-fitted, & 3rd-fitted. Check it out I got a 22lbs of clothing... <br />- 11 dress shirts<br />- 3 Italian wool/ silk-lined suits <br />- 16 tie/ cuff link/ handkerchief sets<br />- 1 dress pant<br />- 1 blazer<br />- 1 pea-coat <br />- 3 dress shoes <br />- 2 sneakers (1 has my name stitched on the heel) <br />- 4 jeans (for which we designed the back-pocket stitching... I got a ghetto-blaster with my initials in the speakers, and for Bradon I drew a pair of headphones, the chords wrapping over to the other side forming his initials)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKKpuwnEBTHjlmtfkan5zCF2X1zV7uPK5V9qs_KeS_srakJ9f0nz9gm5N3QYrbY_vVUbjB3r1a7bM7RBNWAkZCJk1dg2COliRxYsJBbxXl903TQ7LthBK99dC9DKgHf8XobwNJbIk43TC/s1600-h/blog+jeans.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKKpuwnEBTHjlmtfkan5zCF2X1zV7uPK5V9qs_KeS_srakJ9f0nz9gm5N3QYrbY_vVUbjB3r1a7bM7RBNWAkZCJk1dg2COliRxYsJBbxXl903TQ7LthBK99dC9DKgHf8XobwNJbIk43TC/s320/blog+jeans.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356035771416353410" /></a> <br />And it was all totally custom tailored. For the shoes we printed pics off the net & chose colors, designs etc... Bradon got a pair of Nike Air Force-Ones & he was like “OK, I want the swoosh to be black, the tongue red, this portion white, that portion red, this portion black, the soles white, & a red velcro strap riiiiiight here” & the cobbler made just that & they fit him perfectly. Everything cost me US$1,000, shipping included.<br /><br />Alice & Lizzi (the 2 great Aussie girls who joined us throughout Vietnam) ordered a similar quantity of clothing. They accompanied their tailors to the market to pick out fabric, and the total raw material cost was US$7: if anything didn't fit perfectly, we sent it back to be remade or refitted whatever; we could be ruthless because we knew we were paying a relative fortune.<br /><br />1 day we rented scooters with a group of travelers. Among them was a Marine from San Diego named Ronnie. His story is incredible, here's the cliffnotes: <br /> He got shot in Iraq; consequently, the government paid him a bunch of money and sent him home. 'Awakened,' he decides to sail around the world and buys a boat. In the middle of the Pacific he's overtaken by a nasty storm: radios Hawaii coast guard but they say he's too remote for assistance, so he just holds tight. The rudder breaks off so he's stranded out there. The storm passes and he's picked up by a cargo ship bound for China. In Shanghai he buys a bicycle and decides to ride to the U.K. ... China to Vietnam, across Cambodia, through Thailand... India, Iraq, Turkey, Europe, and finally London, camping most of the way. Incredible. His blog is interesting and apparently getting published soon so check it out: www.openbluehorizon.com <br /><br />Anyways, we rode to the Mee Son ruins and it took 1½ amazing hours to get there...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnW9tk4YR4K_mgMyWODmEdA3IYHsYxsRsGR7HcIm5DcTKb01kkWzoE8EXEiCk9sJLjEe3LhN0IwSaE908wShCuRlt3OAZ1_5cw_hTAG0-DHYYAIPl83yPYyBn1-qIZvRj7Bwxka2GogbMT/s1600-h/ride1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnW9tk4YR4K_mgMyWODmEdA3IYHsYxsRsGR7HcIm5DcTKb01kkWzoE8EXEiCk9sJLjEe3LhN0IwSaE908wShCuRlt3OAZ1_5cw_hTAG0-DHYYAIPl83yPYyBn1-qIZvRj7Bwxka2GogbMT/s320/ride1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755259316496930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFq447DK09TSjV3OGB9s6dRq-s9oDDswoTHV8KMDW4zrx2k2UtGguX_EcM1vucymtaiSfj5lGmOntx98JwBo2QHp9Le4pddh6kbPk73Mx5iYPM5A-W2XrnI6o-Z5CRmSQimCVDjIXq0djv/s1600-h/ride34.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFq447DK09TSjV3OGB9s6dRq-s9oDDswoTHV8KMDW4zrx2k2UtGguX_EcM1vucymtaiSfj5lGmOntx98JwBo2QHp9Le4pddh6kbPk73Mx5iYPM5A-W2XrnI6o-Z5CRmSQimCVDjIXq0djv/s320/ride34.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755276071548674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_XCa9WpyeCUpTolA2-cnMlg7Gp4G9owefIphH9mWMJy8A7VHzujBmikVTdWEZv2EJIBtHaUL_n2O5BsLyN_lne1FJRb0ySN9NFdg737BgVmvlpwJcMz2nLwPi_2wk3tGpwIfAtlo0YeR/s1600-h/ride3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_XCa9WpyeCUpTolA2-cnMlg7Gp4G9owefIphH9mWMJy8A7VHzujBmikVTdWEZv2EJIBtHaUL_n2O5BsLyN_lne1FJRb0ySN9NFdg737BgVmvlpwJcMz2nLwPi_2wk3tGpwIfAtlo0YeR/s320/ride3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755271337749266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVz7SBeqXIcrixeAsc3fW2DQACEG_ujHrip-tAaBaSSmB4N0KESjIYcDbmh5IaX5hyphenhyphen6U4uERTnGBvHP35NqYrRMIbcPUf3CDRqpz97NDsgghYUIUgXzF27UmZxGDDKKDIn7wYf74SVllT/s1600-h/ride2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVz7SBeqXIcrixeAsc3fW2DQACEG_ujHrip-tAaBaSSmB4N0KESjIYcDbmh5IaX5hyphenhyphen6U4uERTnGBvHP35NqYrRMIbcPUf3CDRqpz97NDsgghYUIUgXzF27UmZxGDDKKDIn7wYf74SVllT/s320/ride2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755267563385906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHS0JwkF4f_bUMQz1Yk880rJW-SRSyYBeNkWR4S7ga5nksz8rlNRAO3EkZQm0TWcCu0QP8yvsa-ysSRnd0yv4R_LLpd-vFiQexsjFylTHHL6x8F-_oyfXozOXj31NdB4LmbsOhPifqkByY/s1600-h/ride.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHS0JwkF4f_bUMQz1Yk880rJW-SRSyYBeNkWR4S7ga5nksz8rlNRAO3EkZQm0TWcCu0QP8yvsa-ysSRnd0yv4R_LLpd-vFiQexsjFylTHHL6x8F-_oyfXozOXj31NdB4LmbsOhPifqkByY/s320/ride.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355755265616447778" /></a><br />And the glory....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim0zpSQ8QZUGSwgZIeag7GKR5RaoFy_45NPV8FNEMJ6pf4H0h15UjfBUbEifMBUoa2k-itX6oDsm5PMGOTnr5mho6B2bjBrB3Q7OMHIgyaW4Hb4dMqmyylC2DiV-oZbMQe9K1qMhBfUOL7/s1600-h/meeson1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim0zpSQ8QZUGSwgZIeag7GKR5RaoFy_45NPV8FNEMJ6pf4H0h15UjfBUbEifMBUoa2k-itX6oDsm5PMGOTnr5mho6B2bjBrB3Q7OMHIgyaW4Hb4dMqmyylC2DiV-oZbMQe9K1qMhBfUOL7/s320/meeson1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355750353634817522" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2euQrtPhykMib-GdgzN14J6eYPewjGh_Wcvb4hgSRwYuJA0f_2qSDGeWXOEzZizEa0_OoLMGAGyXrZ75UV3rfuLuJilkHZJAhwIvjzjAUB5syasUCnM2Ra8cJU-y56F6u0pN8ZDiWKSHj/s1600-h/meeson2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2euQrtPhykMib-GdgzN14J6eYPewjGh_Wcvb4hgSRwYuJA0f_2qSDGeWXOEzZizEa0_OoLMGAGyXrZ75UV3rfuLuJilkHZJAhwIvjzjAUB5syasUCnM2Ra8cJU-y56F6u0pN8ZDiWKSHj/s320/meeson2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355750360695345490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj136vIzcET6b40xQS6QS9c7TCZR4Ajy2ZXajQ7DrlC2_LTSRB1XLbPw1vCjELEEYm_bHIX4TsvXIqbnaIJuXnSaa6rPGzo4472euXOlgA_2kWTMCukQ-pBmwFO5bu_4KlmQGMNPB5tcD9r/s1600-h/meeson3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj136vIzcET6b40xQS6QS9c7TCZR4Ajy2ZXajQ7DrlC2_LTSRB1XLbPw1vCjELEEYm_bHIX4TsvXIqbnaIJuXnSaa6rPGzo4472euXOlgA_2kWTMCukQ-pBmwFO5bu_4KlmQGMNPB5tcD9r/s320/meeson3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355750363563339650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-aH0uE1OWmK_uqBtLkGGftRDqE0isR0WjBSTSHLLW3QrakgNWUnx-3-moJy5oxOQJVIaq8KS6DcvGZVINJAlGnGthTmx0rvip-vHXrWtLOM0ENbfOBsCy8lYbhwgK5DyQtKTpdw7qK1G/s1600-h/mincks+meeson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-aH0uE1OWmK_uqBtLkGGftRDqE0isR0WjBSTSHLLW3QrakgNWUnx-3-moJy5oxOQJVIaq8KS6DcvGZVINJAlGnGthTmx0rvip-vHXrWtLOM0ENbfOBsCy8lYbhwgK5DyQtKTpdw7qK1G/s320/mincks+meeson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356030034835681362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5uhLvmeLXpZZo55eKNMDFxYU8afTb3oJa_wO_IG7tyNuCkkRUTAsGV2VOCrTpqsQ-srDKAyuCKMPB7sfG6E4vdUfAXyybnDC3KFMjezS3QeXk6rc64GmaY3Vt5N6v3CD7CwkbFtFaJ7Zj/s1600-h/meeson54.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5uhLvmeLXpZZo55eKNMDFxYU8afTb3oJa_wO_IG7tyNuCkkRUTAsGV2VOCrTpqsQ-srDKAyuCKMPB7sfG6E4vdUfAXyybnDC3KFMjezS3QeXk6rc64GmaY3Vt5N6v3CD7CwkbFtFaJ7Zj/s320/meeson54.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355752742101871554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkuLUjqMxzv9CjM3vGreh-WX2Gu8D86dwqzVPayz0RT1r2h6N5QLz9zk409pemMMQdtDJvNs7dXgQxjlLvJfvM9o3iKGnD-ayr632qsXi42d7OJvraPQ1C0d-dBCA5FSPriY9tUZ69at9/s1600-h/a16.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkuLUjqMxzv9CjM3vGreh-WX2Gu8D86dwqzVPayz0RT1r2h6N5QLz9zk409pemMMQdtDJvNs7dXgQxjlLvJfvM9o3iKGnD-ayr632qsXi42d7OJvraPQ1C0d-dBCA5FSPriY9tUZ69at9/s320/a16.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355750345649149858" /></a><br />When we returned to town, I cruised around by myself for an hour. I drove past a schoolyard and saw these kids breakdancing, They were no older than 13, amazing, no music just 2 groups of friends battling. Watch this video all the way through, it gets gnarlier and gnarlier:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ziCKqk1Xh7Y&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ziCKqk1Xh7Y&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />That night we went to a legendary drinking hole called Happy King Kong Bar. Between 10 & 11pm they serve free rum I guess as a marketing ploy, but it didn't work and nobody bought anything, we just drank free drink after free drink... whatever Vietnam I love you. To get there, you walk along a river, cross an old bridge, down a seedy dirt road... about 1 kilometer total but you hear the music from the bridge. It was the grimiest place we'd ever been, but we had fun tagging the walls and drinking for free! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wbYGlQYvqBKlFumXv1d56Gaq-XPULrixBS2S7JfcIbpXghKMPrKO6GnAm8qYrfaVKhDrj31uFXsg0rlWbB-4c0kRpSGGe2ck7i5_OtyU2d3t70uoog5JlaGw8jzSq71gKOocveaTrGVz/s1600-h/happy+king+kong+sign.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wbYGlQYvqBKlFumXv1d56Gaq-XPULrixBS2S7JfcIbpXghKMPrKO6GnAm8qYrfaVKhDrj31uFXsg0rlWbB-4c0kRpSGGe2ck7i5_OtyU2d3t70uoog5JlaGw8jzSq71gKOocveaTrGVz/s320/happy+king+kong+sign.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356030050855551906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM7JUUqo6KVYqxgxGLK834wgsu_uhjfpdJPaoA5HIgqfjTcP2v4s4pGeovJqYg_v01to39FgOu9IyZkonsGgNTiRlNNGPDMQz_umkGUUbBCbVx3UAxYBUS85RuhspexuuhCJoEv1ZK4if/s1600-h/king+kong+lounge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM7JUUqo6KVYqxgxGLK834wgsu_uhjfpdJPaoA5HIgqfjTcP2v4s4pGeovJqYg_v01to39FgOu9IyZkonsGgNTiRlNNGPDMQz_umkGUUbBCbVx3UAxYBUS85RuhspexuuhCJoEv1ZK4if/s320/king+kong+lounge.jpg"border="0"alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356030893574844546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAT-RceEPcn4kVBY3B452MTxnFXixR1v0tNC8A8xUTkjWhGYFSUnfIiVu-sHPlSOTHBIMMt6jy_6_Y3hTjG4nLy7uYuUmPL8ovV9Qn4EqBfSGz5dHMmh4qgMevHJjtdypG4-_ZqWDIPys/s1600-h/blog+king+kpmg.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAT-RceEPcn4kVBY3B452MTxnFXixR1v0tNC8A8xUTkjWhGYFSUnfIiVu-sHPlSOTHBIMMt6jy_6_Y3hTjG4nLy7uYuUmPL8ovV9Qn4EqBfSGz5dHMmh4qgMevHJjtdypG4-_ZqWDIPys/s320/blog+king+kpmg.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356035778718442946" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvwasQ4eMDCWBIorYh7aYghFU3F3bGHtlDuC8sKROx8-_pFRbvlZiv13LZU_OzWFXZV-M2B8hkbnMAcGOLLLDazvW8_wohDArsNIn_RLUQGB6HdggOs264b4H77GcgfuUbO09hcNB24tM/s1600-h/blog+mnx+tag.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvwasQ4eMDCWBIorYh7aYghFU3F3bGHtlDuC8sKROx8-_pFRbvlZiv13LZU_OzWFXZV-M2B8hkbnMAcGOLLLDazvW8_wohDArsNIn_RLUQGB6HdggOs264b4H77GcgfuUbO09hcNB24tM/s320/blog+mnx+tag.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356037517043883058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxwlLt5Hp7Paz_V9G251Zi0gNc30uk6Y7twNHR9TtupT5CAkwar_alHWC3lZaH-Y75h8432fECRQHLtD3Z5njRZ1KfHpZNbBTM8T5TfQB5dAbCL3vIJJEvd2GhH7IbGJqd72iOUh1qcP9/s1600-h/simona+taggin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxwlLt5Hp7Paz_V9G251Zi0gNc30uk6Y7twNHR9TtupT5CAkwar_alHWC3lZaH-Y75h8432fECRQHLtD3Z5njRZ1KfHpZNbBTM8T5TfQB5dAbCL3vIJJEvd2GhH7IbGJqd72iOUh1qcP9/s320/simona+taggin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356035764725348242" /></a>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-34158897331925430332009-01-25T23:40:00.000-08:002009-08-13T07:03:06.892-07:00Vietnam- Sapa VillageHOT TRACKS...<br /><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/20204?fairplayer=large&skin=iheartcomix"></iframe><br /><br />And before I get into Sapa,I wanted to show you a typical intersection in Vietnam. They are an absolute joke as there are no traffic laws, well if there are no one follows them. Crossing the street is straight out of the arcade game Frogger...no joke!!!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy88m0HGCp9OAeHBeYzgFyQVZ_ONlAg4A5oO51azRMN7pzKacvplk1SbPxxqpTwpye_LPLkEbMn7u0wjDGlLA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />We managed to runite at the hostel with most of our group from Ha Long. Of the group 6 amazing Aussies (Rob, Christian, Alice, Lizzie, Phoebe and Emily) and 1 South African who wasn't on the boat, but whom I'd explored Hanoi with a few days earlier, joined us on a 2-day trip to the hilltown of Sapa. We knew little else about Sapa than that tons of people told us we HAD to go, and that was all we needed to know.<br /><br />An overnight train ride to a town just down the mountain from Sapa, which lies only 3 Kilometers from China. It was surprisingly comfortable. Each room had 2 sets of bunk beds, complimentary water and cookies and even your own private night light. Garrett and I were roomed with Lizzie and Alice. Lizzie is a tall, slender, soft-spoken elementary school teacher at home. Alice is a extremely upbeat, blonde Vetrenarian, and a semi-celebrity in Australia due to her recent stint on the reality show “Big Brother”. Both girls are stopping off in SE Asia for some vacation time before they head to London for a year or so to work and take on a change of scenery. On the ride up we really get to know eachother and come to find out what stellar girls they really are. So stellar in fact we end up traveling the length of Vietnam together.<br /><br />We arrive the town squinty-eyed at about 5am and could feel a big drop in temperature. We find a van to fit us all and barter the price down with the driver for a solid 10 minutes, which is pretty standard in Vietnam. After a foggy, over-priced ride up the mountain, we're taken to a hotel which we had no intention on stayting at, probably the drivers Aunt or something. We kindly tell the driver to drop us in the city's center and he complies. It's about 6am at this point, and the small town is still, lifeless as we walk the streets looking for a place to stay. The weather in Sapa is pretty brutal, it is near freezing and the air is extremely moist, which only heightens the frigidness. While checking out a hotel, Alice befriends some girls from a nearby village, being the friendly, outgoing person she is. Before you know it we are all sitting is a cafe having hot cocoa with a group of village girls as Alice had offered to treat them all.<br /><br />These little girls where between the ages of 6-12, and were all incredible. Despite having no foreign languages taught at their schools, each of them spoke perfect English and French. They informed us that they learned everything from tourists, which is mind blowing to me! I mean, Ive grown up around Spanish speakers my whole life, but it never sunk in 1 bit; I still get the “awwww thats cute, he's trying (but he sucks)” laugh when I try to converse with Spanish people. I absolutely love kids and I have seen some cute kids in my day, but these were among the cutest I have seen in my life. They were just so full of life, talking non-stop and always giggling. They were like minature adults at the same time though, they were all so quick and sassy even. <br /><br />The kids ended up inviting us to their village and we gladly accepted. We knew they were probably sent into town to pick up tourists, but we couldnt resist their cuteness (we later found out they all woke up at 3am to take the 2 hour hike into town in the freezing dark). After checking into our hotel, a quick shower and breakfast, we were ready to rock. But before we left, some of our group wanted to buy gumboots to prevent them from the slippery surfaces we would be facing on the hike to their village. The kids took us around to different shops and bargained like grown women with the shopkeepers for us. They made us storm out of 2 stores because at they put it, “They trying to rip you off because they think you are stupid tourists, but you are our friends!” But the 3rd store was a charm and we got a good deal on the boots thanks to our mini-tour guides. I felt like a Vietnamese version of Vince from the show Entourage as we cruised the streets with our new friends, I felt like we owned the town. We had a great amazing group of backpackers with us, and now we had recruited the coolest kids in the world to be our tour guides to their village for the day!<br /><br />Our entourage began the chilly hike excited as could be, I think we all could feel it was going to be a great day! The hike to the village was nothing short of spectacular! As we made our way down the slippery valley, we were sourounded by mountains upon mountains of terraced rice fields! The cold air was still and I really could feel the serenity of our surroundings, it was beautiful! All of a sudden 1 of little Vietnamese Sherpas taps me on the leg and handed me a little horse that she made out of a fern leaf...what??? After that the kids made us all hats out of fern leaves that Ceasar himself would be jealous of! I didnt think these kids could get any more rad or cute, but they managed to do so with their Fern-leaf voodoo magic. They were like those clowns at the parties who make balloon animals, minus the creepy factor!<br /><br />After about 2 hours descending through the valley, we arrived at the village. It was nothing more than a bunch of flimsy wooden huts, a school and more rice fields, but it was amazing to see it nonetheless. We were given a tour of 1 of the girls homes while the girls went and got all dolled up for lunch. The inside of the hut was as you could imagine, very basic, dark and dirty. Next we were led to another hut where we would have lunch with the family. We all sat around the table as massive amounts of rice, noodles and other stuff was piled onto the table. All of us sat their looking at eachother wondering when to start chowing down, but that was quickly resolved as the youngest/sassiest of the girls yelled to us grinning, “what are you waiting for...eat!”. It was settled, we began to fill our empty stomachs as if we had not eaten in days, we were all starving!<br /><br />Once our delicious meal was finished, a bunch of village people with goods-in-hand filed in the room. We paid the girls nothing to be our tour guides and we paid less than $1 for an all you could eat lunch inside the home of true villagers, there had to be a catch! And this was it, once they had us cornered in their hut, they bombarded us with handmade goods and asked us to buy them all...aHA! Fair enough, I couldn't blame them though, they were just trying to survive like the rest of us. But I was not prepared for the brutal tactics the girls would use against us.<br /><br />Each of the girls would come up to me and try and sell whatever it was they were selling and I would kindly tell them that I bought some stuff already and they would reply in the most whiney voice ever “why you buy from her, but you not buy from me!” They had plenty of more selling lines than that, but you get the drift; they were trying to use the friendships we had forged to make us feel bad and buy their products. I took everything with a grain of salt because I am positive their parents put them up to this and that they were doing what they were told. It was a bit disturbing when that thought crossed my mind that the kids had been acting the whole day and were just leading us to our slaughter the whole time. But when I thought about it more, I could tell the kids were really enjoying our company, as we were theirs; but they were just taking care of business at the end of the day and they really meant us no harm.<br /><br />We slowly unhinged the jaws of the relentless sellers that had formed a cloud over us and we parted ways. The hike out of the village took about 10 minutes until we arrived at a group of dirtbike-taxis that would take us back to our hotel. I sadly said my final goodbyes to the girls and promised them I would be back 1 day to visit them with my future girlfriend or wife and they were very excited about the idea. The ride back to town was spectacular as well. I got to have a birds eye view of the valley our group had ascended ony a few hours earlier and it was a sight for sore eyes! And everytime I would pass a group of village kids making their ways back to the village I would yell “Hello!” and they would echo back in the happiest way ever, “Hellooooooo!”. It was the coolest game ever....Sapa is a magical place, go there!<br /><br />On the 2nd day we all rented motorbikes and took an absolutley stunning/amusing ride to another village on the other side of town. The road was only about 6 feet wide and it wound like a snake between layers of cloudy hills and miles of primitive village. I felt as if I were in a motorcycle video game made by National Geographic or something because I was having the time of my life on my motorbike, while enjoying the unreal scenery that was flying past! After checking out the village we headed to a nearby waterfall which was very beatiful. On the way we posed with a massive water buffalo and that was that. Day 2 was over before we knew it and we had to leave this wonderful place called Sapa that we almost skipped to be honest.<br /><br />The weather was perfect for our drive down the mountain. It allowed us to see the miles and miles of gorgeous rice-terraced mountians we had missed on the way up due to fog. What a perfect way to end a perfect trip to a perfect place with perfect people...life is beautiful! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1QLkFTkkKVnO7Ve7bjv-TDbBhcNgVot-PHG96uia_lmZIWwxj3OlgmU_FvhXwk_V2hh8LRKGFPZ1YbXOYLLMk5MHKUG6klzJMEKwUvHRk6MgUFb0bOTDRy-vpwADrPSZSZW6zx-mnRbY/s1600-h/IMG_8926.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1QLkFTkkKVnO7Ve7bjv-TDbBhcNgVot-PHG96uia_lmZIWwxj3OlgmU_FvhXwk_V2hh8LRKGFPZ1YbXOYLLMk5MHKUG6klzJMEKwUvHRk6MgUFb0bOTDRy-vpwADrPSZSZW6zx-mnRbY/s320/IMG_8926.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326028833728643122" /></a><br />Garrett giving chicken feet a try, he didnt go back for seconds!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrqHJaBGfGcReRLJfV22ezFMJOq60mkC0NahwUtlOIK4xpVbd1mv1m4B7eyd9Z-0tbqYEWjqTsIhpt_Cq09yLiyimad6FciW-o0niod9nD4KKnT66clJpB7gcaEHRQ2zES5A_ZB2ylniT/s1600-h/IMG_8893.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrqHJaBGfGcReRLJfV22ezFMJOq60mkC0NahwUtlOIK4xpVbd1mv1m4B7eyd9Z-0tbqYEWjqTsIhpt_Cq09yLiyimad6FciW-o0niod9nD4KKnT66clJpB7gcaEHRQ2zES5A_ZB2ylniT/s320/IMG_8893.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326028829625572514" /></a><br />View from Day 2<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8rJMoZNvboOOHgQqrymJNcQeVo5YLFRCrbFHMiDSd-tFujclzvdqXefrerhepMY1gvpi1k8KtrK_Aang87OBX0hsAa3TgLqoBBZ4QuYJwUIpD2aUSl5p1xOJLXfCk53l_yo4UkrgkeyB/s1600-h/IMG_8740.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm8rJMoZNvboOOHgQqrymJNcQeVo5YLFRCrbFHMiDSd-tFujclzvdqXefrerhepMY1gvpi1k8KtrK_Aang87OBX0hsAa3TgLqoBBZ4QuYJwUIpD2aUSl5p1xOJLXfCk53l_yo4UkrgkeyB/s320/IMG_8740.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326028827168856466" /></a><br />Ascending down to the Village<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAlnZIfqmomgwmN2WBmzqQ_8wL88w7yL6lCwge0cVAl5t9KYacdJpuk8JbVn7Hku6LZX2V1UETezFaIVTk5ZxgH1U72QnmiVtRXMOo4aiGhuZIcNa6wfcTPPqav0285FEfiZNpxquqi7R/s1600-h/P1270264.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAlnZIfqmomgwmN2WBmzqQ_8wL88w7yL6lCwge0cVAl5t9KYacdJpuk8JbVn7Hku6LZX2V1UETezFaIVTk5ZxgH1U72QnmiVtRXMOo4aiGhuZIcNa6wfcTPPqav0285FEfiZNpxquqi7R/s320/P1270264.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326026187417560450" /></a><br />Alice buying all of her village girls Hot Chocolate<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNlxpIx-75AJIAYw-YIykjGbcPOVJjd2W8IB6vQV4BsbWCsGv6J27DBTlm-j56rIhi0ii5mgRVpGmutZRbdig-uD0hhyphenhypheng0LiOOSGisVfp61MUaLY9aAIrNRM963gTBcdDQCbmgqoIs7Z79/s1600-h/P1040994.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNlxpIx-75AJIAYw-YIykjGbcPOVJjd2W8IB6vQV4BsbWCsGv6J27DBTlm-j56rIhi0ii5mgRVpGmutZRbdig-uD0hhyphenhypheng0LiOOSGisVfp61MUaLY9aAIrNRM963gTBcdDQCbmgqoIs7Z79/s320/P1040994.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326026185176868162" /></a><br />Day 2- Waterfall<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6UvMsEi1TgQ95t5rhXV8jrpZn3DDsVMmmGtT91T-QCmMgfq3JFoTHAXvBSW1FyPOb-Ahjh__t_lo1R7Op6Kwlj63QP5fWpjqNuiDrLVORl6Zh5ppzUC22eiGpcxP8M30ZD7YOJf-cwSL/s1600-h/P1040978.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6UvMsEi1TgQ95t5rhXV8jrpZn3DDsVMmmGtT91T-QCmMgfq3JFoTHAXvBSW1FyPOb-Ahjh__t_lo1R7Op6Kwlj63QP5fWpjqNuiDrLVORl6Zh5ppzUC22eiGpcxP8M30ZD7YOJf-cwSL/s320/P1040978.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326026178922007842" /></a><br />Day 2<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxgDWqh4OaYU2Uu8LGdaMFQogXO9VQ-73LIBVEZ4d7TJ3y7L2BkyJBBr118jZ4wHQMGTVZGajg_9k90uOaHVeZ-VwqBxgOBmPIrHF7U02eyjCsPAovYefTUpcRUvFL4xPaUWFC0KGhHSV/s1600-h/P1040954.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxgDWqh4OaYU2Uu8LGdaMFQogXO9VQ-73LIBVEZ4d7TJ3y7L2BkyJBBr118jZ4wHQMGTVZGajg_9k90uOaHVeZ-VwqBxgOBmPIrHF7U02eyjCsPAovYefTUpcRUvFL4xPaUWFC0KGhHSV/s320/P1040954.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326026176794526466" /></a><br />View from our balcony...we literally woke up in the clouds, so beautiful!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6gkp44wVmBJCgOaTga7FUjidAaCAFMM0ucOVFu-MFtvitkbu_7BYxvGvfw7kDKBMVg1tMQlSr6TcRq9opMAy1RNg0EODZbzKUMZcgExozTl7AALcRrnP05fm4msrvcDf-_L-2D78le2b/s1600-h/P1040948.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6gkp44wVmBJCgOaTga7FUjidAaCAFMM0ucOVFu-MFtvitkbu_7BYxvGvfw7kDKBMVg1tMQlSr6TcRq9opMAy1RNg0EODZbzKUMZcgExozTl7AALcRrnP05fm4msrvcDf-_L-2D78le2b/s320/P1040948.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326026171175475762" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrDVVJCBpwZ2_042FulV2s3sVMAsqGkiIv0a7YMZ_nYyQEq1jNps84pchxMnzv5JJqM_aFwGi0Ioog5sYmhxKKtAzqz2rSGZMG0dr7ySBViL2ltsb9OI6kp4e-EbP1ilVix4RKaiiO_0F/s1600-h/P1040955.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrDVVJCBpwZ2_042FulV2s3sVMAsqGkiIv0a7YMZ_nYyQEq1jNps84pchxMnzv5JJqM_aFwGi0Ioog5sYmhxKKtAzqz2rSGZMG0dr7ySBViL2ltsb9OI6kp4e-EbP1ilVix4RKaiiO_0F/s320/P1040955.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326023641323721298" /></a><br />Our motorgang getting ready for a nice ride!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8WKJRgJQ_FgtxRiEo6IqwqN6dP80qFqENXKPUu3vsM9B7imT2ya4I85yewtd0sKpRjeic3_ojwrsv3yP2iaAAx1-k2-ZDCf_hrifrgYxJDFcEJ2o_otwpJZn3io0zbe2JdPcKfA8XbQz/s1600-h/P1040930.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8WKJRgJQ_FgtxRiEo6IqwqN6dP80qFqENXKPUu3vsM9B7imT2ya4I85yewtd0sKpRjeic3_ojwrsv3yP2iaAAx1-k2-ZDCf_hrifrgYxJDFcEJ2o_otwpJZn3io0zbe2JdPcKfA8XbQz/s320/P1040930.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326023635983262962" /></a><br />Lunch with a village family<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvawVkQQ05ajYOvch-OuqFTT_vQ-9NHccovWIK6Nzn_PgQFHCeIRe8zzQHs2qoIdtPue2AZusu54tpwjX-8EpbIyIwXcuExZYm3dZnBvGPYfT4GLJlyGy6rEZKEOwkYvlIivro81MinAQ/s1600-h/P1040912.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvawVkQQ05ajYOvch-OuqFTT_vQ-9NHccovWIK6Nzn_PgQFHCeIRe8zzQHs2qoIdtPue2AZusu54tpwjX-8EpbIyIwXcuExZYm3dZnBvGPYfT4GLJlyGy6rEZKEOwkYvlIivro81MinAQ/s320/P1040912.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326023631588811282" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK7iYqLnoF-jfRBepUxPEKbS5ju0iwxq0pMlU151xr_2rEue7ksDdIVSN-zEJUJeeXDbvV_bZESKlsJiqp4zrOct2cL_Njr0oUuo3qvnT7Lo-AOjIitylzS6yCdeomXkjjp_ctf5PinW5/s1600-h/P1040882.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK7iYqLnoF-jfRBepUxPEKbS5ju0iwxq0pMlU151xr_2rEue7ksDdIVSN-zEJUJeeXDbvV_bZESKlsJiqp4zrOct2cL_Njr0oUuo3qvnT7Lo-AOjIitylzS6yCdeomXkjjp_ctf5PinW5/s320/P1040882.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326023627684402178" /></a><br />Group photo at the bottom of the hill...what a crew we had!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvD7JeC0HcGCUEvutjDVlzTnk3c1TRGljyAXeewYdCqffN9kAWlXTrJIeNStfp-7RctXO9Xkf53CfcnbBFUhY198z83vQooM4bbA-k-0LRdqK99chI1UCzhHRltckzcII6zaq2uDcjat-/s1600-h/P1040877.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvD7JeC0HcGCUEvutjDVlzTnk3c1TRGljyAXeewYdCqffN9kAWlXTrJIeNStfp-7RctXO9Xkf53CfcnbBFUhY198z83vQooM4bbA-k-0LRdqK99chI1UCzhHRltckzcII6zaq2uDcjat-/s320/P1040877.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326023622895132450" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAOf7TCT-4a6euILJ7cfkE7nyrOXqW9xmfpCElZzWgfUubvqYC6Ls-NkhoUWePV2FPiaZnz1T8LOLGlgXBm9Wm1oCM9fN5hkvQBKLPnstwA441QQyUosLD89CmfYSLRv84RkozZOzzdJc/s1600-h/P1040851.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAOf7TCT-4a6euILJ7cfkE7nyrOXqW9xmfpCElZzWgfUubvqYC6Ls-NkhoUWePV2FPiaZnz1T8LOLGlgXBm9Wm1oCM9fN5hkvQBKLPnstwA441QQyUosLD89CmfYSLRv84RkozZOzzdJc/s320/P1040851.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326019619513567234" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4k8fqM4pMSq-O-a15tcdyPJ0lCaSXO2ox3aDETT2ocS9kw-rpongFUFmacJhCVgamTD9eN__7SMzeDuHDiWAjO7fKTgzfCSbMZNJy-P_cYqT3TAVwGIQIFg5QsKIcFsowutKeCqqrTRZb/s1600-h/P1040870.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4k8fqM4pMSq-O-a15tcdyPJ0lCaSXO2ox3aDETT2ocS9kw-rpongFUFmacJhCVgamTD9eN__7SMzeDuHDiWAjO7fKTgzfCSbMZNJy-P_cYqT3TAVwGIQIFg5QsKIcFsowutKeCqqrTRZb/s320/P1040870.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326019617020284802" /></a><br />Terraces rice fields that are abundant all over Sapa<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_phgoV9e4Cd6xTqQmsV-Bsw1PmxOVHF7dkjHN2VtX1SVGpdzUH11nLamShXMg6yH1poY7wf4xV7yGcCGxUS-R26kDlO-m_397qiXjHfsE5Plltm7Dp73L2_MGg_RjOy6XX6M-v_nSamm/s1600-h/P1040823.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_phgoV9e4Cd6xTqQmsV-Bsw1PmxOVHF7dkjHN2VtX1SVGpdzUH11nLamShXMg6yH1poY7wf4xV7yGcCGxUS-R26kDlO-m_397qiXjHfsE5Plltm7Dp73L2_MGg_RjOy6XX6M-v_nSamm/s320/P1040823.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326019611110545298" /></a><br />Tour guides/coolest kids ever! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh52V7Gb1u3P1ft2uH27Fo_4ZgCIzf-S6WCcY6Du2Yob5dugijeWByPfdGZs5chgg2XbWmP4uNSgM5WyFT38I9Ol9H_6buHuomYAFMvIjpfBRtahAXyWyUcuXRCQBQMe6yq1xNsFY-ijH7E/s1600-h/P1040822.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh52V7Gb1u3P1ft2uH27Fo_4ZgCIzf-S6WCcY6Du2Yob5dugijeWByPfdGZs5chgg2XbWmP4uNSgM5WyFT38I9Ol9H_6buHuomYAFMvIjpfBRtahAXyWyUcuXRCQBQMe6yq1xNsFY-ijH7E/s320/P1040822.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326019610110660338" /></a><br />We rented out the entire fifth floor, one big happy family we were!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gFc5_GkivweAkt9cucs5OPNCJkLx_ECKbwTPdqFQS7f7XPrmnG5-BstwURF_7cXDSudwKDyKa0lVKWFKAzwJoVWK-9wxLJ0FVNib-inb_woTBCJOM5AgKRmcdZ6pkIv0U7MjZxLy6Yby/s1600-h/P1040816.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gFc5_GkivweAkt9cucs5OPNCJkLx_ECKbwTPdqFQS7f7XPrmnG5-BstwURF_7cXDSudwKDyKa0lVKWFKAzwJoVWK-9wxLJ0FVNib-inb_woTBCJOM5AgKRmcdZ6pkIv0U7MjZxLy6Yby/s320/P1040816.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326019604777970242" /></a><br />Train ride group shot on the way<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWOi4PwuZOQZ3m3PoOqkHId17G9BJJX1zQ_p73v8T2QvVZsq7Dm2dAcCURCDfTghmDqBP6wvw6sVhOGyeIP6-jv-Aav9y3UpH5rF5RRJ3RtmpmMSethh8Mr9KVRMCsGmsRDRUCYwoRwmq/s1600-h/IMG_8747.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWOi4PwuZOQZ3m3PoOqkHId17G9BJJX1zQ_p73v8T2QvVZsq7Dm2dAcCURCDfTghmDqBP6wvw6sVhOGyeIP6-jv-Aav9y3UpH5rF5RRJ3RtmpmMSethh8Mr9KVRMCsGmsRDRUCYwoRwmq/s320/IMG_8747.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326017604639582322" /></a><br />I smell the village!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2z_wSlN7HOivzX0g2wAcUZWZm01u9ksjd8h0pVTo5HV4zb9u8dnR_UnfNELbfMrSqymZaN9UtcbVPm8xUQ_VIF_fZ3ouPdGuZAFaC15lj_HK4-XIYhpcnb-AZm48EgbtRY-RXlqCnWpx/s1600-h/IMG_8767.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2z_wSlN7HOivzX0g2wAcUZWZm01u9ksjd8h0pVTo5HV4zb9u8dnR_UnfNELbfMrSqymZaN9UtcbVPm8xUQ_VIF_fZ3ouPdGuZAFaC15lj_HK4-XIYhpcnb-AZm48EgbtRY-RXlqCnWpx/s320/IMG_8767.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326017603194198818" /></a><br />Mincks sporting his fern hat with pride!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL5hCLdzSCO3XMblIKGKr0nqArGquiCnul094AULzx8RmOCZzbgqjeeXNGsbe4JsAb51ZVvpvm7b3in0xVpU1otELGDfJfbufX8TLY-_udSL_czaE6taPemVF3c2O3LzSnj1N8E23P0Kcw/s1600-h/IMG_8755.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL5hCLdzSCO3XMblIKGKr0nqArGquiCnul094AULzx8RmOCZzbgqjeeXNGsbe4JsAb51ZVvpvm7b3in0xVpU1otELGDfJfbufX8TLY-_udSL_czaE6taPemVF3c2O3LzSnj1N8E23P0Kcw/s320/IMG_8755.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326017597035709602" /></a><br /><br />And if you havnet seen this, get your dirty little paws on it ASAP!!!<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q5Qwtv5hCBk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q5Qwtv5hCBk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always"allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-78696453878393140972009-01-23T11:19:00.000-08:002009-08-13T07:02:32.069-07:00Vietnam - Chinese New Year............Hey so we're in Mostar, Bosnia at the moment and HO PHOW DAMN! It's crazy! today we were walking down the road, same road that during the war marked the front line, and we saw this spooky 7 story building, outside walls covered in bullet spray, inside walls sprayed in graffiti, every window shattered out, road in front speckled with little bomb craters, and said HEY Lets check it out! So we tip toed around the place for about an hour... along the walls there were countless bullet shells, glass shards, documents dating back to the 80s... we looked out the windows at once enemy lines, at buildings totally crumbling from craters, craters made by the bullet shells under our feet... whole place had a haunting vibe... and last night we partied in a club that was in a legitimate cave (a few bats were flying around inside, seriously) and I could go on and on about everything here and now but I won't, so here's what went down in Vietnam on Chinese New Year.............<br /><br />Tet a.k.a. Chinese New Year a.k.a the day each individual grows a year older i.e. everyone celebrates their 'birthday' together... Hanoi is b-a-n-a-n-a-s! Peep the streets all day long with our Aussie friends from Ha Long Bay, walking around seeing every local in traditions like burning fake money in small fires (for ancestors). Others have potted orange trees strapped to their mopeds. The flower arrangements are innumerable and unforgettable. Then the streets vacate for at-home tradition, so we return to the hostel and get drunk. 10pm. Return the revving-up streets and make our way to an Irish Pub. It's crazy inside and every westerner wears a bright sombrero from our hostel. While getting fresh air outside, our Irish friend tries teaching us a jig.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDlt3Ib4Ab54YhCg6qaiQ19uVBOSygxifSzAY7anN-jGRjJ6M1u9mGJZxMMwbDJQ__KIQGSOal__arXJybTuMu1FE5NscvFJwhGJtNWCpaVqE6In1anq1Uu33pGjahcLFj8BCHxfO9pXx/s1600-h/P1040746.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWDlt3Ib4Ab54YhCg6qaiQ19uVBOSygxifSzAY7anN-jGRjJ6M1u9mGJZxMMwbDJQ__KIQGSOal__arXJybTuMu1FE5NscvFJwhGJtNWCpaVqE6In1anq1Uu33pGjahcLFj8BCHxfO9pXx/s320/P1040746.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352441389275605954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35_70lDjDC7Dhyphenhyphenyux0Rg9KqQg1MFQ30N7bcuY5HEDyd5Cc2vNw5V5nPghbcAj_OrC0JuJFQ8XdY5UgXDec1QJtCwoWM1IfY1hz1lPkWqLk_6G-nb90Z9EAvYEEHpMzMN36nMv0K_eNv8A/s1600-h/P1040742.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35_70lDjDC7Dhyphenhyphenyux0Rg9KqQg1MFQ30N7bcuY5HEDyd5Cc2vNw5V5nPghbcAj_OrC0JuJFQ8XdY5UgXDec1QJtCwoWM1IfY1hz1lPkWqLk_6G-nb90Z9EAvYEEHpMzMN36nMv0K_eNv8A/s320/P1040742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352441384527061874" /></a><br />Failing miserably at the Irish Jig<br /><br />At 1130 we make our way to lakeside town square. 1 Aussie friend is very drunk. He sees a burning mound of money, thinks its a hazard and stomps it out! We're speechless then offer abashed apologies. Countless locals have mystic lanterns—round, hollow cubes of papyrus-like paper with Chinese caricatures painted fine; twined beneath is a candle, and when they ignite it, the heat floats the contraption right toward heaven, and these are everywhere, like watching newborn stars journey toward their kind. Then the fireworks began. Our friend was a bit too drunk and I had to take care of him, which put an abrupt end to my night, but Bradon will take if from here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lX1lM4LIDsfWfPGTIYzhQ8rIIL3q9O_5ZiFAv8oyw8gbVqQCkIUPJm1prKsSPYR7GZ3Wu2p-BmFh3KRgiW0o1lUAPB8rE8UYO8uXFrEGU8o3qqEsfx7s9_rThixTP_9-BJDUBUsLHstx/s1600-h/P1040788.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lX1lM4LIDsfWfPGTIYzhQ8rIIL3q9O_5ZiFAv8oyw8gbVqQCkIUPJm1prKsSPYR7GZ3Wu2p-BmFh3KRgiW0o1lUAPB8rE8UYO8uXFrEGU8o3qqEsfx7s9_rThixTP_9-BJDUBUsLHstx/s320/P1040788.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352451126090102866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAr08NjK2ZwRLYDIblgcWBgrBWU6T9awXwKxKi2HFxACp1HehNbOw6udFY1LR8Qgw23Bi6jy-yk2P0H1a4Og9cfbUP4Ufd_aQGD-DR6w1DNP_yTCm8egQ5bc-a03pijGRDCDRsZmxRMoDR/s1600-h/P1040782.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAr08NjK2ZwRLYDIblgcWBgrBWU6T9awXwKxKi2HFxACp1HehNbOw6udFY1LR8Qgw23Bi6jy-yk2P0H1a4Og9cfbUP4Ufd_aQGD-DR6w1DNP_yTCm8egQ5bc-a03pijGRDCDRsZmxRMoDR/s320/P1040782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352441395976599362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVnARaid0HEszdAYTC_t1Le7rlzaPcTwYU6LyAlOWO56T0BWkKZ0PqV-Femu3czz9e89b3pnvopH29GaB4jbGByMp8QL8QQs9HJZg03dCYvJHyDhexhOm57_EZA-lP1yP6kjB-iBydcrYU/s1600-h/IMG_8594.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVnARaid0HEszdAYTC_t1Le7rlzaPcTwYU6LyAlOWO56T0BWkKZ0PqV-Femu3czz9e89b3pnvopH29GaB4jbGByMp8QL8QQs9HJZg03dCYvJHyDhexhOm57_EZA-lP1yP6kjB-iBydcrYU/s320/IMG_8594.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352439642717383666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoE6KTEP_1JFB_MRVdo8e66PPdpg7MGDaKuChRVCfmmSs7tCDKEGGiofrhrcdZZ3d1DBWMyc_2nmeU-dH8pttdWwnhR60PvYC2r4rPjG5wNZlUdrxyR3C7BY0Y5obCBP-dRw2vBz5kLuA0/s1600-h/IMG_8637.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoE6KTEP_1JFB_MRVdo8e66PPdpg7MGDaKuChRVCfmmSs7tCDKEGGiofrhrcdZZ3d1DBWMyc_2nmeU-dH8pttdWwnhR60PvYC2r4rPjG5wNZlUdrxyR3C7BY0Y5obCBP-dRw2vBz5kLuA0/s320/IMG_8637.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352439635039071122" /></a><br /><br /><br />Bradon's Remainder of the night...<br /><br />Once I get to the lake I have officially lost EVERYONE I left the bar with in the commotion! I watched on as the fireworks exploded in the sky, all the while catching awkward stares and giggles from Vietnamese people. Rightfully so though, I am a head taller than everyone in the crowd, Im white and I am wearing a purple, yellow and green sombrero! Im waiting for the grand finale, but there is none...oh ya Im in Vietnam! After the minimal finally I begin my search for anyone I recognize. I see another sombrero in the distance and track it down! It is a Canadian guy I met at the hostel, sweet! We start wandering the streets looking for some others to join our crew. Then I spot a group of about 6 people from our Halong Bay boat trip...we are in business! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAI4xY670ix5_T4W5WrM7kvuy5eFgWEDw79DUfiiQsdK5tUnJ4xzpAREsFWrySyPcy_apPIXSlKExrxMqQmdvbeobmUfV0-lHsM3ZKZ9IUi3GiEzlBuEvguixlIanpzC5KRkyekbWud9AU/s1600-h/P1040760.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAI4xY670ix5_T4W5WrM7kvuy5eFgWEDw79DUfiiQsdK5tUnJ4xzpAREsFWrySyPcy_apPIXSlKExrxMqQmdvbeobmUfV0-lHsM3ZKZ9IUi3GiEzlBuEvguixlIanpzC5KRkyekbWud9AU/s320/P1040760.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352441393683977650" /></a><br /><br />We all cling together as if we are lost in the desert. There are Vietnamese people everywhere and we dont want to get separated again. One of the Aussie girls announces she has a cool bar for us to go to and we follow her lead there. On the way we see Toby and Tom, some of the craziest guys Ive met on this trip, and they naturally join us. Our first stop is a dark dingy bar down a random back ally. People are smoking hooka everywhere and it strangely reminds me of what I imagine an opium den would look like. It is news years night in Vietnam and we are looking to get crazy, not chill out so we have a drink or two and quickly leave that bar. We shoot into the streets once again circa 1 am and the streets are pretty much desolate! Im am taken back because at home everyone would be hitting their stride, running wild in the streets. But I guess the fireworks are the end all be all for the Vietnamese on their new years, oh well. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCWPg4NsXAJ4d3r9CzsKgnUtW8NzAoKdTZ4IHDaRt0IqCTpmeZF3vPzmuH9r4YaWfMGvrQNTBlQp7q4aOR8zM_8Nlyxjj1jHTFwZptS81SdJmDmztWljNSGkRe8J9EdDX5To1VhZmVY7A/s1600-h/P1040804.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCWPg4NsXAJ4d3r9CzsKgnUtW8NzAoKdTZ4IHDaRt0IqCTpmeZF3vPzmuH9r4YaWfMGvrQNTBlQp7q4aOR8zM_8Nlyxjj1jHTFwZptS81SdJmDmztWljNSGkRe8J9EdDX5To1VhZmVY7A/s320/P1040804.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352451114598445602" /></a><br />An enthusiastic girl from the hostel<br /><br />Not ready to lay down our swords yet we head to a nearby club to try an uphold our values of bringing in the new year right! The club turns out to be perfect, not too busy, not too big, great music, free entry and cheap drinks...game on! Our crew instantly takes over the dance floor and we begin to dance like there is no tomorrow! Toby and Tom, being the crazy kids they are, start pulling Vietnamese people up from the adjacent couches and making them dance with us. Some of them love it and have the biggest smiles on their faces as they celebrate with us; others are too shy and scurry back to their seats. 3am rolls around and the club begins to shut down, so a few of us make our exit while others stay behind. I strike up conversation with an English guy named Danny whom I met on the bus back from Vietnam. He tells me how he hit it off with this girl at the club we were just at. Turns out as he was dancing with her, a guy came up to him and told him to stay away from that girl because she was there with the Vietnamese Mob!!! Being a wise young chap, he complied and stayed away from her the rest of the night.<br /><br />Well apparently that wasn't sufficient... as we walk back to the hostel, Danny's a bit scared and keeps his eyes peeled for potential danger. He notices a tinted silver Mercedes following us. I'm not sure what to do. Odds are really good (or really bad if you know what I mean) that it's the Mob—all locals drive motorbikes or, if they're lucky, an old shitty cars; tinted Mercedes belong to either Mobsters or politicians, or both. <br /><br />Do we run? Do we act like we don't see them and don't want any problems? I choose the latter and tell him to act not look back and just keep walking. There is no need to panic, so I dont tell the others in the group that we are being followed by the Vietnamese Mafia. Panic would possibly indicate that our friend Danny did do something wrong, when in fact he didn't. I know we are about 5 minutes away from the hostel and Im praying to the good lord that we will all make it there safe and sound!<br /><br />We turn down the alley where our hostel is to my relief. I can see our safe haven and it is the best feeling ever! Our pace quickens a bit and we duck into the hostel doors as Danny and I let out huge sighs of relief! But its not over yet, it turns out that Danny's room in the other part of the hostel which is across the alley, but the doors are locked! So we hang out in the lobby for a bit chatting about whatever comes to mind. I peer my head out the door to see if the doors are unlocked by chance and guess what I see? The silver Mercedes parked in the ally about 300 feet away, with two scary looking Vietnamese dudes leaning against it! I notify Danny that we aren't out of the woods yet. He begins to get really worried as one can imagine! I try to calm his nerves the best I can in my dreary state. Im so tired at this point and would love nothing more than to go to sleep, but I cant leave this poor guy by himself! 30 minutes pass and I give the ally another check, but the mobsters are still out there leaned up against their car, smoking cigarettes. <br /><br />Another 30 to 45 minutes pass and dawn begins to present itself. I give the alley yet another check, but this time our prayers are answered; the coast is clear, the doors to the other side of the hostel are open! I try and muster as much joy as I can at this point and deliver the good news to Danny! His face lights up like a Christmas tree as he has dodged a huge bullet and he knows it! He thanks me for my help and sprints across the alley to safety. It is now 6am and my mind can barley grasp what just happened, but at least no one got hurt or killed. I thank my lucky stars and drag myself to bed...what a night!!!Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-62435633580110863472009-01-20T07:01:00.000-08:002009-08-13T07:01:33.496-07:00Vietnam- Halong BayMAS MUSICA POR FAVOR!!!<br /><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14709?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />"Put these on!" instructs the 25 year old drunken Aussie manager of our Hostel as he hands me a ridiculous yellow/purple sombrero, its OK though it takes me back to those whistle-blowing, tequila-chugging days in high school when we would escape to the land of 18 year old drinking laws! I throw it on with some gusto and parade down the ally with 30 some odd young backpackers I'm about to spend the next few days with. Mind you we are in Vietnam, and we are all wearing these stupidly amazing sombreros...needless to say we caught more than just a few stares.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydRMyoEQeWqiVtUaMXq88cbgpae8wve8MAl9sPcHnVZrl36T_tUcwNRHFG0MS2a0HApWsXq5Kw9ihlupJ6TiaKkDFb8grZJHCc7CiL7NXKPvF4DHaWPWMfJtTU7ZNNvJ_iiRvzjwSx8iY/s1600-h/P1040568.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydRMyoEQeWqiVtUaMXq88cbgpae8wve8MAl9sPcHnVZrl36T_tUcwNRHFG0MS2a0HApWsXq5Kw9ihlupJ6TiaKkDFb8grZJHCc7CiL7NXKPvF4DHaWPWMfJtTU7ZNNvJ_iiRvzjwSx8iY/s320/P1040568.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326010105258963186" /></a><br />7am on our way to Halong Bay<br /><br />The group loads into transport vans and we meet some of the characters we will soon have a blast with. Toby and Tom, two INSANE Aussies who came straight from the set of Dumb and Dumber to make an appearance on this little trip of ours, but they have Aussie accents which just adds to the comedy. James, another Aussie with a twisted sense of humor and an infectious laugh and smile. Phoebe and Emily, two Aussie sisters who look not one ounce like eachother, but are sweet as can be and whom I could tell would be a lot of fun to party with! And Hila, the token Israeli of the group who caught the bitter end of some jewish jokes and references to the middle east, but we soon came to find out she just got out of the military so the jokes ceased as soon as we realized she could probably take all of us on!<br /><br />The 3 hour ride starts out with a great vibe as the whole group is eager to see the world-famous Halong Bay. On the way we see 2 giant pigs wiggling like hell, tied to the back of a scooter just cruising down the highway like its no big deal...haha! The rest of the ride is filled with various travel stories and of course random conversation topics ranging from what 2 races would make the ugliest and prettiest offspring to Where Are They Now??? (an ongoing game that Garrett and I have come up with where you pose the question of where are famous actors and/or cartoon characters now). The winner for ugliest offspring was awarded to the awful mixture of a backwoods, grimey Siberian with an Mauri (native New Zealand people). Prettiest offspring was a no-brainer really, it was decided that a Swedish and Brailian would make the most attractive offspring. <br /><br />Before we knew it we had arrived at the dock and we all piled out of the van with our hats securely fastened as the dock full of returning Halong Bay tourists watched and wondered what kind of drugs we were on! We were shown to our boat, which was a classic wooden, 3-story boat that just looked like it was born to be cruising around Halong Bay, it was perfect! Once we were all settled the group was called to the deck for our briefing on what the next few days would consist of. It was chilly but we would have to make due. After the briefing, everyone began to mingle and meet. There were kids from everywhere, Ireland, Australia, Israel, Sweden, Iceland, America, Canada and England. Seeing as we were all backpackers all converging on this boat from all around the globe, there was definitely no shortage of conversation topics and travel stories at any time!<br /><br />Soon enough we entered the chain of nearly 2000 limestone islands that make Halong Bay the wonder that it is! Some big some small, some with tunnels and caves, but all a sight to see; each formation was beautiful in its own way. We passed these formations like you pass plastic surgery on Sunset Boulevard and it was amazing! After about an hour of staring in amazement at the passing islands, we arrived at our first destination. As we paired off into Kayaking partners I noticed that 3 row boats armed to the teeth with chips, cookies, soda and my favorite beverage, Vodka, had come up next to the boat and were attempting to sell everyone their snacks...now thats impressive! Watching these Vietnamese women barter prices from their tiny rowboats was just really funny to me for some reason, but I guess everyones got to make a living right?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6D29gMYzVyA9wvXwf9-w30_jBNNIuJ4SOG0e2OoPAqKrLsgPoiBi4cxOro_ke_p_xcxYzjTMKNGOCimlyxMMk9l8NU-xIADhyphenhyphenA1iUnxZDQ9klOK6XYckXrGlf8N-WLcM-hRkdUhIhUeV/s1600-h/IMG_8201.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6D29gMYzVyA9wvXwf9-w30_jBNNIuJ4SOG0e2OoPAqKrLsgPoiBi4cxOro_ke_p_xcxYzjTMKNGOCimlyxMMk9l8NU-xIADhyphenhyphenA1iUnxZDQ9klOK6XYckXrGlf8N-WLcM-hRkdUhIhUeV/s320/IMG_8201.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325916258843440674" /></a><br />World-class beauty at a world-class location<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5tDZdt9Nmwi6Leb6uQpmoePMPf9neDxBbMELJKaH6_NBrJnS5yyJLC5GKZ-UGQ98hKc-lINmTnnGeY4zEfW4XOvOMEZZypgEMiFpTgOB3M6Obhtym4xD9VGB71myO0RRPVjhfb70wqab/s1600-h/IMG_8197.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5tDZdt9Nmwi6Leb6uQpmoePMPf9neDxBbMELJKaH6_NBrJnS5yyJLC5GKZ-UGQ98hKc-lINmTnnGeY4zEfW4XOvOMEZZypgEMiFpTgOB3M6Obhtym4xD9VGB71myO0RRPVjhfb70wqab/s320/IMG_8197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325916252141896114" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9Nl8r9m9kVIobnyWxNQcWO-uxdcw6YpCV-_ovzsJSz7L6DKFiq_vSXDINuFZLbGQ_QJEwOlgp-782iYSZpL_0qyeoEfg74NrT5Nhj_4rfFpLmYyPU0ZApW7hKYOBYnCiVXEcEePzzVFs/s1600-h/IMG_8217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9Nl8r9m9kVIobnyWxNQcWO-uxdcw6YpCV-_ovzsJSz7L6DKFiq_vSXDINuFZLbGQ_QJEwOlgp-782iYSZpL_0qyeoEfg74NrT5Nhj_4rfFpLmYyPU0ZApW7hKYOBYnCiVXEcEePzzVFs/s320/IMG_8217.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325917721834547874" /></a><br />Floating Vietnamese 7-11<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5tDZdt9Nmwi6Leb6uQpmoePMPf9neDxBbMELJKaH6_NBrJnS5yyJLC5GKZ-UGQ98hKc-lINmTnnGeY4zEfW4XOvOMEZZypgEMiFpTgOB3M6Obhtym4xD9VGB71myO0RRPVjhfb70wqab/s1600-h/IMG_8197.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5tDZdt9Nmwi6Leb6uQpmoePMPf9neDxBbMELJKaH6_NBrJnS5yyJLC5GKZ-UGQ98hKc-lINmTnnGeY4zEfW4XOvOMEZZypgEMiFpTgOB3M6Obhtym4xD9VGB71myO0RRPVjhfb70wqab/s320/IMG_8197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325916252141896114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJneMhkudrSvAZVAW2R2WMNcJu5qjG2sJ7NdmvnhpLysnPDjP51SFABZIcmcbiIdmqHIma8yuqh2FNOxNwaxo5HhtgTJiXrpmNssKNXlB_6wwlg9_119znh6uc1A3j-bPygh6-_xd8Y0e/s1600-h/IMG_8187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJneMhkudrSvAZVAW2R2WMNcJu5qjG2sJ7NdmvnhpLysnPDjP51SFABZIcmcbiIdmqHIma8yuqh2FNOxNwaxo5HhtgTJiXrpmNssKNXlB_6wwlg9_119znh6uc1A3j-bPygh6-_xd8Y0e/s320/IMG_8187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325910008713141666" /></a><br /><br />In our Kayaks we raced to get a closer view of the interesting rock formations that teased us for the past hour. We paddled through a cave and came out on the other side completely surrounded by massive limestone formations at least 200 ft. in all directions. The serenity in this bay was incredible, it was completey silent! And when there was a noise it would echo for a least 5 seconds or so, and yes we were those guys to ruin the serenity by yelling childish phrases...oops! After painting our faces with mud war-paint from the ocean floor we raced Team Canada to the viewpoint of the rock formation that looks like Snoopy sleeping (we won of course, are you surprised?).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2WO3lqvk4boxoOXhYPQtnL305LE_MZPcuBHvhY_jfYA7DE6rJrahYyVGKifMJbA1w-WpyqCvE6y8tXIxu5kX-Yjbpy1vIGKmqMPiDCbGPojXZ0h3cRh7-GTavuiH0CgrsOLuRPuc1e0S/s1600-h/IMG_8235.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2WO3lqvk4boxoOXhYPQtnL305LE_MZPcuBHvhY_jfYA7DE6rJrahYyVGKifMJbA1w-WpyqCvE6y8tXIxu5kX-Yjbpy1vIGKmqMPiDCbGPojXZ0h3cRh7-GTavuiH0CgrsOLuRPuc1e0S/s320/IMG_8235.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325917729354033522" /></a><br />Safety first!<br /><br />The sun began to set so we all had to head back to the boat. After a much needed hot shower, we chowed down on an amazing 5-course meal! All those who didnt bring party favors onto the boat, purchased the local Honoi vodka from the rowboat ladies during dinner and it was then that I knew it would be a fun night! Once dinner was finished we didnt waste anytime getting into the drinking games. Ring of Fire (aka Kings Cup for those at home reading this) was the game of choice. It quickly got very sloppy in the room as our guide policed everyone and made sure they drank when a rule was broken. Once everyone was well hydrated, the tables were pushed aside, the ipod plugged in and our boat turned into a full-blown floating club, complete with lazers and a bar! Upstairs on the deck we had electro and house pumping and downstairs was the dancefloor with Top 40 blasting over the stereo. We sang and danced until about 4am, what a night! <br /><br />The crew woke everyone up bright and early at 7am to many peoples dismay, including mine! I drag myself into the dining room for breakfast feeling like I got in a fight with a pirate/vodka bottle last night....wow I was hurting! But as I scan the room I feel a bit better as it is obvious pretty much everyone else is in the same boat as me, literally and metaphorically! Luckily Tom and Toby are in Dumb and Dumber form, providing the mornings' entertainment, drinking a few beers at 8am and letting the whole boat know who hooked up with who the previous night. The boat arrived at the biggest island, Cat Ba, and drops off the people who bought the 2 night package, which includes myself, Garrett, 4 Aussies, 2 Irish and the token Israli. We say our goodbyes to the rest of the group as they took off back to Hanoi.<br /><br />We rode a transport-van to the national forest, got out and began trecking up a mountain. At the end of the hike was this sketchy rusty watchtower around 30 meters high I would guess. My better judgement told me not to climb the thing, but I saw a 10 year old kid do it, so being a man I had to. I cautiously climbed the narrow, shakey stairs as I fought off the vertigo and urge to climb right back down. The view was well worth it though, I'm super stoked I did it and even more stoked I lived to tell about it and of course show you all the pictures!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7WsKzuEBCG3CGllkNnui_oVnbcfATtMYHInR3psBiV4VQcwjjUYK5p5L8A6KrRw_QrwVH30dd-JAyrudYend5otcYKXK7S5hoFYitGiPGlk_i_B5XxbpyrR_aRXE9zr9ULb1UDk-jgWwQ/s1600-h/IMG_8318.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7WsKzuEBCG3CGllkNnui_oVnbcfATtMYHInR3psBiV4VQcwjjUYK5p5L8A6KrRw_QrwVH30dd-JAyrudYend5otcYKXK7S5hoFYitGiPGlk_i_B5XxbpyrR_aRXE9zr9ULb1UDk-jgWwQ/s320/IMG_8318.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325921859503569682" /></a><br />View from the watchtower<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdm0KY4aaHqIWMrRgjhdyvbtXOsACTGBlpKbmmfyskfWVxm-t13iFh2A4d1i5n9VK9JykAHboEdoHAY-o3svGLpSM3EBZ-gjaZ6JqW8qBL9IzdIqQVxEtXH7ghcpvw3WuxUQgESCu7PF0n/s1600-h/IMG_8314.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdm0KY4aaHqIWMrRgjhdyvbtXOsACTGBlpKbmmfyskfWVxm-t13iFh2A4d1i5n9VK9JykAHboEdoHAY-o3svGLpSM3EBZ-gjaZ6JqW8qBL9IzdIqQVxEtXH7ghcpvw3WuxUQgESCu7PF0n/s320/IMG_8314.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325921860332191938" /></a><br />The sketchy tower of doom<br /><br />After the beautiful hike, Garrett and I, plus 3 Aussies split off from the group to go rock climbing. We were each wisped away by our motorbike taxis through a beautiful lush green valley into the middle of nowhere. After lunch with a village family, we headed to the amazing limestone formations that we would be scaling very shortly. After about 2 minutes of instructions, we were thrown into the fire and told to “just climb to the top”! It was physically one of the most challenging things I have ever done, but at the same time one of the most rewarding! There were a few times during my first climb that I wanted to give up and times that I thought there was no way in hell I would make it to the top. But with some helpful hints from the instructor, the cheers of my fellow climbers and a bit of will power I finally made it to the top. As I looked out over the green field below, towering mountains in the backdrop, I let out a massive yell of triumph...one of my favorite moments of the trip by far!<br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=beefef8ba3&photo_id=3552555491"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=beefef8ba3&photo_id=3552555491" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br />A little video I shot as we tore through the valley on the way to go rock climbing...my driver was completely mental and got me there about 5 minutes before everyone else..haha!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87KvEXpuignTgiNwOhyphenhyphennWYSjI8fsX-e3It9bP8hzDy4TfEd-3P143_nZarZPmXQ_AXWXYbRK6gvR_Ox0ZCWtQVycUm5dP4bWj3ZzvUrlDORtt1sFI-LgmzzTbYFsO38Qj9YyWF296z5VG/s1600-h/IMG_8373.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg87KvEXpuignTgiNwOhyphenhyphennWYSjI8fsX-e3It9bP8hzDy4TfEd-3P143_nZarZPmXQ_AXWXYbRK6gvR_Ox0ZCWtQVycUm5dP4bWj3ZzvUrlDORtt1sFI-LgmzzTbYFsO38Qj9YyWF296z5VG/s320/IMG_8373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326010099306498658" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1PK8uVkMxFttRneqgVio_6ALOIK5s9pZXgYIE0anQSSlfu4VfYcP854Bww1JKCQArBcfnTpWklcYImSAdeJpxt2nwDOG31BSkBovKeE6xWUgG9lgP1dIsnhMQH06eGT8g2e774tZyRkM/s1600-h/IMG_8398.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1PK8uVkMxFttRneqgVio_6ALOIK5s9pZXgYIE0anQSSlfu4VfYcP854Bww1JKCQArBcfnTpWklcYImSAdeJpxt2nwDOG31BSkBovKeE6xWUgG9lgP1dIsnhMQH06eGT8g2e774tZyRkM/s320/IMG_8398.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326010092746071442" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3EE_nEwi7JMxO_vLtXMD984_b8ZS-1Dwo2XcDpARUxmczKIYlHDYOnL4HsFPNNE6J0oW6EVJNChW7lI3BLpPrzpYE2VI0wCAYhGx1GjB2C1qcLsgPLJIh91siJfYhq4bN5Y8jdP-tPEY/s1600-h/IMG_8425.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ3EE_nEwi7JMxO_vLtXMD984_b8ZS-1Dwo2XcDpARUxmczKIYlHDYOnL4HsFPNNE6J0oW6EVJNChW7lI3BLpPrzpYE2VI0wCAYhGx1GjB2C1qcLsgPLJIh91siJfYhq4bN5Y8jdP-tPEY/s320/IMG_8425.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326010091176463730" /></a><br />This is how the pros do it...I have a whole new respect for these guys!<br /><br />That night after dinner and drinks, the group sang karoke and Christian, 1 of the Australian kids cool and chilled out, revealed that he sings for musicals—like big time shows in Sydney! Haha random and needless-to-say he put on the most ridiculous rendition of the Pokemon theme song and other off-the-wall tunes. Legendary.<br /><br />Wake next day, leave hotel, transport-van to the dock and embark for Hanoi. On the way, we stop at a floating village to buy some fish. Still can't believe people live out there!Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-18818402849435366552009-01-19T11:17:00.000-08:002009-08-13T07:02:03.663-07:00[Days 120 - 121] Snake Hearts, TeiTei Throats, Monkey BrainsA song that everyone needs to hear...<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iVEJI3S8TyU&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iVEJI3S8TyU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Well, today's Tuesday June 9th. My lil sis Ali joined us 1 week ago, and we've initiated her into this wild life properly...Greece is a crazy place! I'm writing this in Athens, and the Bartender at our hostel said a couple months ago, police officers gunned down a kid and left him to die, and since that night, about every 2 weeks there is a riot. We've been seeing Greeks dressed in camouflage outfits... we thought they were military, but the bartender informed they're riot cops! The entire city is covered in grafitti... things like "fuck the police" written on monuments. Don't worry, it sounds much worse than it is, and in 20 minutes we're jumping on a charter bus bound for the infamous Pink Palace Resort on Corfu Island! <br />_________<br /><br />*THE FOLLOWING IS PRIMAL! BARBARIC! THE VIDEO IS NO JOKE! IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, DON'T WATCH IT! IF YOU'RE PART OF P.E.D.A., GET A LIFE! It was one of the supremely exotic times that really made it clear I was far away from home, and that people around the world live under much different standards, which, in itself, is awesome. I'm glad I did it, but don't ever need to do it again. Ever.<br /> <br />Day before Chinese New Year I go to 'Snake Village.' Minivan takes us 4 guys (1 New Yorker, 1 Colombian, 1 Englishman, me) down Hanoi's Broadway. He turns down a sidestreet and we see several half-finished 2 story buildings with dead snakes hanging on hooks. Park. Approach an open-air restaurant called 'Snake Village.' The entrance path is dirt, and the concrete walls were once painted white. Walk a few steps inside. We pass the kitchen—big doubledoor opening is doorless, revealing a long room; in the center is a long island with tile-counter-tops, above which meat hooks and preparing knives hang; 2 big plastic barrels stand in the back left corner. Laying on the ground in front of me is a tattered mesh sack filled with writhing snakes. <br /><br />The hostess grabs my attention. She brings the 4 of us to a table, and on the way I see 5 big parties spread out around the restaurant, all of which are laughing loud, apparently having a grand 'ol time... <br /><br />Hostess seats us with complimentary beer and a bottle of snake wine (snake wine is rice wine that they've fermented a snake in). We're manic, chain-smoking not sure what's going to happen. Hostess returns “you like snake cu' here or in back room?” Heya bring it here! and she smiles off to the kitchen. <br /><br />Suddenly a man appears holding a flippant snake—right hand pinches the mouth while left grips the tail end. Another man appears with a jug of rice wine, then hostess appears with a stainless-steel tray, on which 2 tall glasses, 4 shooters, and a knife rest. The man holding the snake curls its head back, pours ricewine on the underbelly (disinfectant?), then slits it open. He wrings most the animals blood into a tall glass, then prys for the heart which drops into a shooter. He shows it to us still beating. The hostess adds rice wine, then offers it to drink—I grab it & feel the heart beat upon my tongue before I swallow: feel something uncanny, like in high school, just before gametime when your team is in the locker room, roaring and flexing and jumping, overwhelming yourselves in adrenaline... the pinnacle of that scene—a rush of pure testosterone or rabid strength—no feeling like it. Now I understand why war-tribes eat their enemy's hearts. Then the New Yorker gets offered the liver, and he does it quick and remarks a similar feeling. Hostess puts the glass of blood on our table and we do shooters of fresh snake blood, discuss the feeling, and chase everything with beer. The 3 employees return to kitchen and we just sit around trying to take in what just happened. <br /><br />Suddenly a Vietnamese kid appears, early 20s, speaking English—many countries don't teach English in school: locals pick it up from tourists, and thereby love just talking for practice—this is overtly the case. He asks where we're all from, how we're enjoying his country, etc, then explains how he's at another table with his father's friends. He inquires about the restaurant, and we communicate astonishment—he cracks up. After a few minutes he returns to his table.<br /><br />Hostess appears with a tray of dishes. She sets down a bowl says “Snake skin soup” oh great thanks! She sets down another bowl “Snake bone soup” oh wow thanks! a dish “Fry snake skin” Mmm great! another dish “Snake skin in rice leaf” perfect! a final dish “Grill snake rib” alright! We sample everything and it's all good, the freshest meat possible. Then the Vietnamese kid returns “Hey guy follow me.”<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkC4aOJNAnQTuBcLbfRhlOx8yXU7IDVMgS41tSdlOsuPKRYvge0ASVBRue0Wk74L6kUuc3jlbbW3_2KuUIxwgV9GTLBhuX0aVD-oSTvX5mqQJJcfujCeFxAqNtpYuHgjKpKilroHTLPJz/s1600-h/food1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgkC4aOJNAnQTuBcLbfRhlOx8yXU7IDVMgS41tSdlOsuPKRYvge0ASVBRue0Wk74L6kUuc3jlbbW3_2KuUIxwgV9GTLBhuX0aVD-oSTvX5mqQJJcfujCeFxAqNtpYuHgjKpKilroHTLPJz/s400/food1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345357126379978418" /></a><br />We walk to kitchen entrance. A group of locals stand in a circle. I squeeze through to catch the action—a man is holding the tail of an armadillo-like animal (kid calls it a TeiTei)—hard plated skin, squat round body, long snout, brown, terrified so it's trying to roll into a ball, but the guy's gripping it's tail so it's only capable of rolling half way. A line of blue paint marks it's spine. All the locals are joking and talking pub-like. Employee sets critter on ground, and it rolls up quick, so he kicks it like a soccer ball, then another man nudges it back, and they're all laughing as do this over and over. We're obviously weirded out. Employee picks it up again, then yo-yos it right at me! and I freak out thinking I'm gonna get bit, but the poor TeiTei's so scared it can't open it's mouth, it just returns to a half-ball.<br /> “Fuck this shit” return to the table, manic chain-smoking not sure what's going to happen. 10 minutes pass. Shooters of snake-wine. 20 minutes. Kid appears again and we laugh out awkward responses “Haha OK guy follow me” what.<br /><br />We return to the kitchen. Same scene: circle of locals watching hellraiser hold the terrified TeiTei. Then another guy brings a knee-high red bucket and big butcher knife, which hellraiser picks up and conks the animal on the head. It unrolls limp so he holds it over the bucket and gorges open it's jugular, blood gushes out filling bucket more than 6 inches high. Another man adds rice-wine, and carries the concoction to the kid's table. Woah.<br /><br />We return to our table, and shortly after kid appears to invite us over. Now around his table, he informs that the men are his father and uncles, all of whom are drunk as us. The kid talks to them in Vietnamese, I assume explaining how we feel about the whole thing because when he finished, they all looked at us and howled. They pour us each a TeiTei blood shooter and down the hatch it goes. Cool guys! Thanks for the hospitality!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOogcfFOA9qqkKvDP-Ehp5Vzq_AXlwpLJH9sQmVFgS9dyEErrPkqW0o-6eEFiEfpKAincYxd8GJtZTVTyGFkBOfCQO8_T0IVnsRuHwBFkK1-DR_jtK0W7glVuxFqsoWXhxfHXHxpKfTLT/s1600-h/locals+table.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvOogcfFOA9qqkKvDP-Ehp5Vzq_AXlwpLJH9sQmVFgS9dyEErrPkqW0o-6eEFiEfpKAincYxd8GJtZTVTyGFkBOfCQO8_T0IVnsRuHwBFkK1-DR_jtK0W7glVuxFqsoWXhxfHXHxpKfTLT/s400/locals+table.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345357121319388946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4rE201iWGRHos6qG0KFP9-I1I_CIXqjhDQRZq4M3xIxkiucOWGLw8amhJeoBMjhOoRUATnfyFzbw55UWxUnMCcWReG9u4xUk3b5kzKLe26jMnVFBu_2UEJqQA6qckwfQh7ahreg3ZYxk/s1600-h/shots+with+locals.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4rE201iWGRHos6qG0KFP9-I1I_CIXqjhDQRZq4M3xIxkiucOWGLw8amhJeoBMjhOoRUATnfyFzbw55UWxUnMCcWReG9u4xUk3b5kzKLe26jMnVFBu_2UEJqQA6qckwfQh7ahreg3ZYxk/s400/shots+with+locals.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345357116346430594" /></a><br />We return to our table stunned. After a few words, I walk to the kitchen and see a woman removing the TeiTei from a boiling pot. It's ghost white, and they start skinning it. I almost chuck and return to my table. After 30 minutes, hostess walks by us carrying a large tray. Shorty after, the kid appears with the same tray, says it is the animal and invites us to try it, and it's great. Then we get really smashed. <br /><br />I wake next day and go downstairs for free breakfast. A hostel employee, a guy from Colorado, remarks my mangled appearance and asks how my night was. I tell him the story and he says “Yeah man we go there often actually. Free booze. Cheap food. We're all immune to the snake stuff. Never heard of 'em doing that with that animal, but I'm not surprised. You should check out the dog district.” Bro you're kidding me the 'dog district'? “Yeah man, they got skinned dogs hangin on meat hooks for you to buy. But that's not even the worst part. Apparently dog meat tastes best when it's full of adrenaline, so the butchers scare the shit out of the dogs right before they kill them.” Woah. So you live in Hanoi. Bet you've seen some crazy stuff. Tell me a story amigo. (the following situation was first told to me by a Danish guy when we were in New Zealand, and 2 months later, in Cambodia, an Australian girl would tell me her uncle actually did it) <br />“Last month I met up with 5 buddies in Hong Kong. They'd been backpacking through South China and were at the end of their trip, and they told me that in this remote town, they all ate dinner at a Benihanna-style restaurant. Check it out: they sat around the table with several locals. In the center of the table was a big empty pot heating on a burner. All of a sudden they brought out a live monkey and threw it in the pot! They latched a lid and let the monkey bake and it was screaming and scrambling as it died, and during this the locals were drinking being careless and merry. Then, right when it the pot went silent, an employee pulled out the dying monkey, sliced it's brainstem, cut open the scalp and they ate the brain while it was still alive. It was safe because the blood had gotten so hot it boiled the animal's inside.” <br /><br />Amazing.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5YjQ84Byiw&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5YjQ84Byiw&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-87690863473900268352009-01-18T02:58:00.000-08:002009-08-13T07:00:54.598-07:00[Days 117-118] Vietnam sucks at first impressions<iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="110" height="180" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14789?fairplayer=medium"></iframe><br /><br />Hanoi airport. 11pm after the 2-hour time change. Already we notice how different things are, the differences between Japan & Vietnam versus America & Vietnam are astounding... big immediate culture shock—disoriented—clueless of currency exchange—gotta hostel name but no idea where it is relative to the airport, i.e. no idea how much we should pay for a cab: not good—in poor countries, locals feel entitled to your money, like you owe them something, and you should give them a ridiculous amount of money because you're a foreigner and 'wealthy'—we're exhausted, in a daze from the many changes, not to mention the plane flight, running on curious adrenaline from entering a new country... SOUTH EAST ASIA! FINALLY!<br /><br />Go through customs and grab packs. Still inside international terminal, we see glass exit doors leading to public. A deep crowd of locals vibrate beyond those doors, staring through—taxi drivers standing on balls of feet with eager smiles, rigid men with awkward faces holding welcome signs (“Welcome to Hanoi Mr. Sciacqua”), families intently waiting for their kin, old lonesomes already jumping for arriving friends.<br /><br />We're first to trudge through—automatic doors open, mug whooshes against my face—crowd explodes in yaps as a path parts, every eye fastens to us, every welcome sign points at us, a guy grabs my arm “Taxi?” so I push him. Then a kid age'd early 20s walks up holding a business card, he smiles “Taxi?” looks legit so I say Ya, Hanoi Backpackers? “Ya sure les go!” OK cool. Where's an ATM? “I take you der now!” OK cool, and he starts cracking jokes so we're all laughy drunk on bewilderment. <br /><br />Follow him outside and ask the price, fully prepared to tell him to screw off. “40Km, 80,000Dong [US$5].” Total? “Ya sure! Vietnam cheap!” Great! We climb in his car and 2 local guys are there “Oh dees my friend is OK man, Backpackers righ' les go!” So off we romp and he's blaring house music—after the mellowness of Kyoto it sounds great, and all 3 guys start singing along and dancing, the driver is honking at the night, so we join in crazy laughing along. They stop and buy rounds of beer. How much do we owe you dude? “Ah no is OK Hanoi cheap cheap!” Cool thanks man! The kid starts raving about the local girls and clubs and invites us out for the night, enthusiastic for wild times we agree. <br /><br />Beers finished now gripping empty cans, then the locals toss theirs on the racing by street. Woah man what are you doing? “Is OK man they clean street every night. You in Hanoi man! Is OK!” Whatever bro! So out they go onto the road and now we're in downtown and I notice litter n the gutters and sidewalk. Arrive grimey looking hotel with 'Backpackers' frost-painted on the windows... definitely not our hotel but we say SCREW IT! check in quick, ditch bags and re-enter car. 1AM. Off we romp again driver now raving about karoke bars & after Japan we're stoked for it, so we ride across this big bridge to a dark part of town, everywhere seems closed & the streets are deserted but they insist on a good place with great girls “BOOM BOOM!” realize they've been talking about prostitutes so we promptly chuckle to him we're not interested, say it's late and we just want some food, so off we go, return over bridge to main part of town, to outdoor market oozing cheap prices. <br /><br />They order everything, explain the 5 of us will split the cost. Cool man show me some Vietnamese food! Beer and vodka gets ordered. Out comes 2 pots of boiling vegetables, spices, and plated raw meet. The guys start throwing fixings in pots, including chicken heads... What's that bro?! “Is OK man is good trus' me!” We taste the heads.. horrible but “when in rome” right...<br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=2b79540d16&photo_id=3444397460"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=2b79540d16&photo_id=3444397460" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />Craziness carries on then guys present us the check... it's 4 million Dong. We drunk on booze and chicken-eye and don't understand the exchange rate. We do blurry calculations and discover we don't have enough—tell guys to cover the rest and they say they did, we say Must be too much and they say they'll call the police to make us pay.<br /><br />Wake next day with a throbbing head. Outside out window is a ridiculous intersection, which turns out to be like most of the intersections in the country; completely chaotic and lacking any rhyme or reason at all...<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzzFSFnb2uPEqpaAXG5Yzma8eDf2_tGT5xTUkrT-pLJFVMJJr8NkTbEDxgrHAe7X2OhpwYGe0LCpao1y0bxzQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />Remember last nights debacle and sober calculations reveal we paid those f-f-f-fucking fucks US$300... we got hosed. GRAAH!<br /><br />Later that day, after calming down, Bradon reads in Lonely Planet a warning that details locals doing exactly what happened to us. GRER. It hurts but teaches valuable lesson: natural roughness toward every local. In Bali we were kind and blindly sympathetic to poverty levels. Now we're cold-hard. Beggars, aggressive salesmen, bidding vendors... screw 'em all. <br /><br />We check out and walk 45 minutes across town and see just 2 non-asians—like an omen this tattered backpacker walks up direct points to me “Go to Sapa. Do it.” Woah. Note taken.<br /><br />The street scene is insane. Little shops posted up side by side everywhere; selling shoes, bags, candy, water, clothing and everything else imaginable! Vendors see our huge backpacks, give us curious glances and try to sell us their junk. Motorbikes rule the streets of Hanoi and Vietnam at large. Apparently about 5 years ago there were no cars at all in Vietnam, crazy right? Crossing the street is like a game of Frogger as literally hundreds of motorbikes charge as you without the slightest intention of slowing down. Like I said no one pays attention to the traffic laws, so there is no break in the traffic to let you cross the street. You just have to go, make eye contact with oncoming motorists and dont run; that is what we were told...gotta love SE Asia!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHSEYcll-VGEnZK2YNbQJvnLgwJ8n1l7KDH-HFguNY1qZdkSnJSxJLQiVBPUexLBnX0nwLzUpQXZrnFtMLeMHUWuC6SX0r3fVWrtifg1kEA3x7xG7eFVuYcyVtNAsyBX0fbQDis34QIWx/s1600-h/hn3"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHSEYcll-VGEnZK2YNbQJvnLgwJ8n1l7KDH-HFguNY1qZdkSnJSxJLQiVBPUexLBnX0nwLzUpQXZrnFtMLeMHUWuC6SX0r3fVWrtifg1kEA3x7xG7eFVuYcyVtNAsyBX0fbQDis34QIWx/s320/hn3" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341294581656918610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5IBKKjoY8_BPGCGTBcMUNTuaHTk77F-QwOZchjYl8EAQTPdY6Hx_TZF_pHUYeGi_ST0Zv3PyssR_7ZYLUKqNk6OydEGgwx6cqHj2KonZvfjc_MQjpG28hk2DWbqotAQTK8uc99ELOZYAd/s1600-h/hn2"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5IBKKjoY8_BPGCGTBcMUNTuaHTk77F-QwOZchjYl8EAQTPdY6Hx_TZF_pHUYeGi_ST0Zv3PyssR_7ZYLUKqNk6OydEGgwx6cqHj2KonZvfjc_MQjpG28hk2DWbqotAQTK8uc99ELOZYAd/s320/hn2" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341294576869944674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfJpd2v5a_HK6mcjtVARXkH_duuAJxwJMxZF4-IV2nXAMdHVL_DuLT1nFCvMACUgz5KjMSpc5PesBydAQs8mtCEAfqz6ZRyLPuRSB_PT5mBdVPRoDzkfiuDB0iY6P6hi9qEb-zItmcg8O/s1600-h/hn1"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvfJpd2v5a_HK6mcjtVARXkH_duuAJxwJMxZF4-IV2nXAMdHVL_DuLT1nFCvMACUgz5KjMSpc5PesBydAQs8mtCEAfqz6ZRyLPuRSB_PT5mBdVPRoDzkfiuDB0iY6P6hi9qEb-zItmcg8O/s320/hn1" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341294573687118114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJyHoPRLccsyaQVnBXeg74zNN32LVjLmF4a59-dySq8yZXUuCjlIGnu7jHCU64tmYBrPnp6S4w4AbA0HoYc4BT0h_pabYpQiHw-UuC0rX5NBplOZeedxsTsyHONJog7R3aOdbkF9nDf36/s1600-h/3394618663_db39244b0e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJyHoPRLccsyaQVnBXeg74zNN32LVjLmF4a59-dySq8yZXUuCjlIGnu7jHCU64tmYBrPnp6S4w4AbA0HoYc4BT0h_pabYpQiHw-UuC0rX5NBplOZeedxsTsyHONJog7R3aOdbkF9nDf36/s320/3394618663_db39244b0e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341294563625677666" /></a><br /><br />Finally arrive hostel & the place is a westerner Mecca! It's run by Aussies & it seems every Hanoi traveler is there, not very 'authentic', but in countries where most don't speak English, and after last night's escapade, it is very comforting. Check in and fall into naps that grow into slumber as our first 24 hours in SE Asia settles in...Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-60852060413012799892009-01-18T00:45:00.000-08:002009-05-19T09:10:59.542-07:00[Days 108 - 113] Kyoto: Monekys, Castles, Snow and of course Temples!A a mix just because Im nice...<br /><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="110" height="180" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/22617?fairplayer=medium&skin=iheartcomix"></iframe><br /><br />Garrett's parents were kind enough to give us their timeshare in Kyoto so we had a place to call home for 5 nights, lucky us! Kyoto is spritual and sourrounded by mounains and notoriously colder than Osaka and Tokyo and we feel all these things right as we step off the train! Kyoto is like Kokobunji in the sense that is is quiet, clean and orderly; but different in it's homey small-town vibe, despite being a large city. In our fancy hotel, we quickly get settled and review a city map. Kyoto is littered with castles, temples and all sorts of other interesting things to see!<br /><br />Day 1 starts out pretty late, but I blame it on the incredibly comfortable beds. After sleeping on all sorts of uncomfortable floors, buses, planes, hostel beds, and benches even, my body jumps at the opportunity to enjoy deep sleep in the comfort of a real bed, ahhh! We decide to checkout the monkey forest and an assortment of temples. With the help of a wrong turn led by me, we found ourselves crossing a long highway bridge that we were definitely not supposed to be on; there were no signs saying this specifically, but the faces of the passing Japanese motorists read it loud and clear. It was all good though, soon we arrived at the river which signified our proximity to the monkey forest.<br /><br />As I near the peak of the monkey forest hill, I began to hear a familiar classical tune of which the name escapes me. I coulnd't imgaine why or where the music was coming from, but my mind bred enough curiosity to make me sprint to top and find out. As my eyes fixed on the flat summit, I saw a young, bundled up Japanese man feeding 50ish red-face monkeys! The beautiful, serene view of Kyoto that the summit provided was a stark contrast to the the feediing frenzy I was witnessing. Chaos is the only way to describe the scene; monekys fighting, chasing, climbing and screaming evreywhere! One minute you would think the monkeys were actuallly going to kill eachother, but the next minute they would act like nothing ever happened!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzxoUQUvx3Yql4RHoKafa3baVnlhE5UpW2sA0adXwj3BJ9TGZeou4-0r8_XiinWMfQ1yuCTlKBcOc2o_erNOw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtb8PmxSxAlqKA5aJdzZCVQjIU4Ym97Ch1_Gnt1AkcCTSxqEyp3bcJsgdGnWlBz8ufyyI3sXLskOckkUZOT3a1QdiI5o9fcPvqr5nySZS61pNwhMvUE64UhI-Aq2LKUc-APLVoSFL60p2/s1600-h/IMG_7202.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUtb8PmxSxAlqKA5aJdzZCVQjIU4Ym97Ch1_Gnt1AkcCTSxqEyp3bcJsgdGnWlBz8ufyyI3sXLskOckkUZOT3a1QdiI5o9fcPvqr5nySZS61pNwhMvUE64UhI-Aq2LKUc-APLVoSFL60p2/s320/IMG_7202.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333872547115909506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6VivFFGrlhi7641YhS-lF9O0AtKVQsRNrmuBcCqMaPcp1cRhdwZxBP3NtsLXZIiRdM01JQnk5GRHQI-WOABtBx-sfkuNN4FCAY7J2S9F7sy79aUvDQ41CwAuHBMVkb9jK-bwTruz2336/s1600-h/IMG_7189.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6VivFFGrlhi7641YhS-lF9O0AtKVQsRNrmuBcCqMaPcp1cRhdwZxBP3NtsLXZIiRdM01JQnk5GRHQI-WOABtBx-sfkuNN4FCAY7J2S9F7sy79aUvDQ41CwAuHBMVkb9jK-bwTruz2336/s320/IMG_7189.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333872544842913458" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfo3SXhxkNRztXgNJ7nXJ11j_xhKVwDbbUcZFeQs5bLlRv_kgd8RDI7r-eVK_I-5UtJk37Wpe9x917HcbcmF_AhFajBtXyzRx0zIWH7FVczsO07x_na_YjMnkW-MMliA7lC1deT0njI9xJ/s1600-h/P1030906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfo3SXhxkNRztXgNJ7nXJ11j_xhKVwDbbUcZFeQs5bLlRv_kgd8RDI7r-eVK_I-5UtJk37Wpe9x917HcbcmF_AhFajBtXyzRx0zIWH7FVczsO07x_na_YjMnkW-MMliA7lC1deT0njI9xJ/s320/P1030906.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333854697230874850" /></a><br /><br />From the monkey forest we ventured to about 5 temples. I would describe them all but there isnt enough time in the day to do that, I will let the following pictures do the talking for me, all I can say is that they were incredible.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTufCwDQo6BX0vSUdQ0isW0Z7gkxZvWwQG6IQDXsCQ5TRMSr_Q8r1ze8EQeq_aKJcXYn8zSOId1J6qU3FGEyZhRi1avEHOx31dl1yG6VDPcgckRPxS6Ai1Hl-IgAKkfISU53vXHIRPlz2D/s1600-h/P1040049.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTufCwDQo6BX0vSUdQ0isW0Z7gkxZvWwQG6IQDXsCQ5TRMSr_Q8r1ze8EQeq_aKJcXYn8zSOId1J6qU3FGEyZhRi1avEHOx31dl1yG6VDPcgckRPxS6Ai1Hl-IgAKkfISU53vXHIRPlz2D/s320/P1040049.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333857180775239186" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfg15qXDpR9qI5NJ8IUK6hfdmgf28O3_lh8YllKwB0lZGnEXYfP79im6PaybHjQ19KkBm4nbrArQE7dfrF-rXbRYBV60d7PzKcPRUNav1gjY5Ytdc4DDScS9wCdpL357DO01gBMHADSQ3/s1600-h/P1040041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfg15qXDpR9qI5NJ8IUK6hfdmgf28O3_lh8YllKwB0lZGnEXYfP79im6PaybHjQ19KkBm4nbrArQE7dfrF-rXbRYBV60d7PzKcPRUNav1gjY5Ytdc4DDScS9wCdpL357DO01gBMHADSQ3/s320/P1040041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333857176947935362" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIAixTO3n-wSqa3PxVmQPvSP5mhL4eZjKi_sdgga1bI4H94xLHI-9FCxr7D88UYYoIEq1_cIdpslGn5wjD3jeR-GaJZlNcFECnMDXYMtBDd-zM0CMEGq5miUDhCD8uY509pFsO6bdFw7tV/s1600-h/P1030960.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIAixTO3n-wSqa3PxVmQPvSP5mhL4eZjKi_sdgga1bI4H94xLHI-9FCxr7D88UYYoIEq1_cIdpslGn5wjD3jeR-GaJZlNcFECnMDXYMtBDd-zM0CMEGq5miUDhCD8uY509pFsO6bdFw7tV/s320/P1030960.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333854705486134514" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Uh3hMxbkusVAZrvN23V5squQtTJDMu4ezb0fwrPzfTBpovYugGtSRAkGCoh3kHWy8GPNAM8nxGFfp6WBoHBp1ihicK76qxkkwSwUO_NI8thyMCO31P49Sz0ljbAj6R1-PeV5alvyIFx/s1600-h/IMG_7349.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Uh3hMxbkusVAZrvN23V5squQtTJDMu4ezb0fwrPzfTBpovYugGtSRAkGCoh3kHWy8GPNAM8nxGFfp6WBoHBp1ihicK76qxkkwSwUO_NI8thyMCO31P49Sz0ljbAj6R1-PeV5alvyIFx/s320/IMG_7349.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333834030122576530" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBST4EO0trGBrP7eOhcgvqVgl65QYu4IaPyAHsWVPLEdZz3VsxpT8MI-mTH5iYtBBMLmWWhUeCqALYVpKbS39WhQ230xd3wZi41YwAy5n-V2gnRMNVMPNfSyXkYKIc-oIqEGtSNmrJ6sl/s1600-h/IMG_7233.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBST4EO0trGBrP7eOhcgvqVgl65QYu4IaPyAHsWVPLEdZz3VsxpT8MI-mTH5iYtBBMLmWWhUeCqALYVpKbS39WhQ230xd3wZi41YwAy5n-V2gnRMNVMPNfSyXkYKIc-oIqEGtSNmrJ6sl/s320/IMG_7233.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333834021376506658" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNGdO5lcoh8wiVwfH1scLiEPERLfPYLWOfGDIg7nDpTd1Ymkzdv9GrqRLFh1fvQQR699W1FOhpplH9TwjRMxOsv4pvpB_FQTBfi5jUdFMWmCAwBFwaJknngLWBaBuO-dQRy8eCUmU1QUQ/s1600-h/IMG_7483.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCNGdO5lcoh8wiVwfH1scLiEPERLfPYLWOfGDIg7nDpTd1Ymkzdv9GrqRLFh1fvQQR699W1FOhpplH9TwjRMxOsv4pvpB_FQTBfi5jUdFMWmCAwBFwaJknngLWBaBuO-dQRy8eCUmU1QUQ/s320/IMG_7483.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333840619881857554" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJul6cNb7FLpgw7q4PbeQElVKSD5KOMMwP2otWZ_75IxRXnQjTs9-7-I1XWhRojKr0IHPKiGCPewmXxAluxfmqnnt6nYiJCfvENsL88j_mRU_zP5vFrzjF5li_1EWRmoa4DMPLrhdwUtF/s1600-h/IMG_7472.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJul6cNb7FLpgw7q4PbeQElVKSD5KOMMwP2otWZ_75IxRXnQjTs9-7-I1XWhRojKr0IHPKiGCPewmXxAluxfmqnnt6nYiJCfvENsL88j_mRU_zP5vFrzjF5li_1EWRmoa4DMPLrhdwUtF/s320/IMG_7472.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333835798145650178" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZtMMH4PSfLNCI8GY56xMN9e3FtEv9H3z1dgdgI5hhB0bDmaTDcBfUWINUdGodgczW7xqHC6t8-nO1KeSMnSSKq0aJeyzCMaJCaFK3ue8gPXnKkyVV1UmJOakzUCCM7hxb1erYUTXWxKUx/s1600-h/IMG_7427.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZtMMH4PSfLNCI8GY56xMN9e3FtEv9H3z1dgdgI5hhB0bDmaTDcBfUWINUdGodgczW7xqHC6t8-nO1KeSMnSSKq0aJeyzCMaJCaFK3ue8gPXnKkyVV1UmJOakzUCCM7hxb1erYUTXWxKUx/s320/IMG_7427.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333835795771135874" /></a><br /><br />The following day we headed into the downtown area to see what it was all about. The frigid streets were bustling with tons of Japanese and a tourist here and there. We cruised down many of the small back alleys that you find all over Japan. But they aren't like the back alleys at home, these alleys are littered with all sorts of shops and bars. All of a sudden it hit me that the Chargers were playing in the 2nd round of playoffs today. We hunted down the only English bar in town and ended up watching the American Football game, in an English Pub in Japan...gotta love globalization! Even though it was a disappointing game, it was still a cool feeling watching my home team battle it out all the way across the world. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96udaLwI_m6gUC3wCJwad7-UOYj7RshoIlaSW52WNjsxr8F7UOD7p4eOdC9zYiz7GIXE5InsIJnsEN6LuAlN6hfiyhfEjVLcmcWFjn6Gpdt6qhZzeBKKAzqhcAb2FQImhxV2HbIHCswcL/s1600-h/IMG_7142.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96udaLwI_m6gUC3wCJwad7-UOYj7RshoIlaSW52WNjsxr8F7UOD7p4eOdC9zYiz7GIXE5InsIJnsEN6LuAlN6hfiyhfEjVLcmcWFjn6Gpdt6qhZzeBKKAzqhcAb2FQImhxV2HbIHCswcL/s320/IMG_7142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333834019287823698" /></a><br /><br />The next day it snowed pretty much all day which was cool, so we ended up staying indoors and watching sumo wrestling. On day 4 though we decided to rent bicycles for a change. We discovered our map reading skills were not as good as we thought as we got ourselves good and lost for the 1st hour or so. We finally made it to a temple though and just as we parked our bikes it began to snow! Being from Southern California this is a very rare occurance for the both of us so we hurried to snap some photos to capture the rare moment. I dont remember much about that temple in particular but I do remember the next one distinctly. The following temple was made of pure gold and sat directly next to a perfectly still lake. We caught it as the sun was beginning to set, creating a maginicent reflection upon the lake.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfg6YQ3Dr04p9sSfmhyphenhyphenvy4EmxmvMp-P4QL5xsBD-a_XvQgZq0GKGEiGw4PlEmifyC1ONj6a0JB8QwvcOjHSCymeKvmN6RMWLV8HvuhWWogAdHXj25OIitc75-Bzl7qKSGgVdenhBbKE4O/s1600-h/IMG_7498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfg6YQ3Dr04p9sSfmhyphenhyphenvy4EmxmvMp-P4QL5xsBD-a_XvQgZq0GKGEiGw4PlEmifyC1ONj6a0JB8QwvcOjHSCymeKvmN6RMWLV8HvuhWWogAdHXj25OIitc75-Bzl7qKSGgVdenhBbKE4O/s320/IMG_7498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333869755359735570" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5w4C4khZ6MWiC9ldGX1arFuw7uZhA9BvK2uhJCPAB4lFkuMNn50X54DVK3wLcPAQx6QVL4sr7Z19fMlCYaXdh5M9u8E5lcdLpAKn0B3IolxmcME1WcSfGzwJpBIH6ekVry0LIjK3JFw3u/s1600-h/P1030893.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5w4C4khZ6MWiC9ldGX1arFuw7uZhA9BvK2uhJCPAB4lFkuMNn50X54DVK3wLcPAQx6QVL4sr7Z19fMlCYaXdh5M9u8E5lcdLpAKn0B3IolxmcME1WcSfGzwJpBIH6ekVry0LIjK3JFw3u/s320/P1030893.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333853533052799698" /></a><br />Snow from our hotel wındow....a special treat for us Cali boys!<br /><br />Our final day in Kyoto started off at the castle in the heart of the city. This thing was absolutely massive! I would guess it covered a good 8-10 square blocks of real estate. It was here that we met our pseudo tour guide for the day. Her name is Loraine and she works for JAL (Japanese Airlines). She has been in Japan for a few years and ended up giving us a lot of good insight into the culture. She told us we had to go to check out a temple that overlooked the city on the otherside of town before it closed. So she showed us to the bus stop and told us which line to take and where to get off like the angel she is and that was that. As we climbed the hill to the temple, some Saki sets caught my eye in 1 of the shops. Garrett and I both ended up buying Saki sets which I cant wait to use when I get home!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYkBsXLOt_7-a1DSlnLXi9P-7xHxP6hL6YCOVpgvVqPI2YVys_bvRvI7REqyrVmRgMm_LHhLXIKb4_bViGyJUfKgvwAklZlMFOsyzbvGwinbkRILhwGFNpp73lYLNuRKBw1s_aTofagpt/s1600-h/P1040170.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYkBsXLOt_7-a1DSlnLXi9P-7xHxP6hL6YCOVpgvVqPI2YVys_bvRvI7REqyrVmRgMm_LHhLXIKb4_bViGyJUfKgvwAklZlMFOsyzbvGwinbkRILhwGFNpp73lYLNuRKBw1s_aTofagpt/s320/P1040170.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333869751512242258" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7E3J1RXSmr0t1-0puT5hFMAVrcTn3pF_tqqG0YHCTVv1D0m25WPR0ZVufE9LRRMT5TnVVcwUwu3rJprmeW-piVtxM5IDpWNvReJF9y5ddQUgluWsjfR91OlK7zV7CTcXD9iZihCA02ZK2/s1600-h/IMG_7579.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7E3J1RXSmr0t1-0puT5hFMAVrcTn3pF_tqqG0YHCTVv1D0m25WPR0ZVufE9LRRMT5TnVVcwUwu3rJprmeW-piVtxM5IDpWNvReJF9y5ddQUgluWsjfR91OlK7zV7CTcXD9iZihCA02ZK2/s320/IMG_7579.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333851179833413394" /></a><br />Our tour guıde Loraıne<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6sKIuud5DKctxMmjNPPLJofwpLCLjFKINx-zVjSI2V8_ax6H9n0DyeyYDGF2FGhwaNce8W9ABesXQcUOcNqmlZ95UbSaoJrKSYUM1B4R71AM4AJZCzoTEmLQP34H1ibrBpIUPb24XsyU/s1600-h/IMG_7577.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6sKIuud5DKctxMmjNPPLJofwpLCLjFKINx-zVjSI2V8_ax6H9n0DyeyYDGF2FGhwaNce8W9ABesXQcUOcNqmlZ95UbSaoJrKSYUM1B4R71AM4AJZCzoTEmLQP34H1ibrBpIUPb24XsyU/s320/IMG_7577.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333842317375200578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwop2pBSb-gHouYJosM5P2sMlP8uGQ7y2KmUbW28pBwYecC0BEKUnejDs7Vk0E5ZdKhiEhhiGERRKMmmWsE-GXYI34bLfA-EiJuP4Au3FQLbCqJdW8Zvxod_bINScdZYGR_9cbfuItWcA/s1600-h/IMG_7576.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwop2pBSb-gHouYJosM5P2sMlP8uGQ7y2KmUbW28pBwYecC0BEKUnejDs7Vk0E5ZdKhiEhhiGERRKMmmWsE-GXYI34bLfA-EiJuP4Au3FQLbCqJdW8Zvxod_bINScdZYGR_9cbfuItWcA/s320/IMG_7576.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333842303560959298" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQw6wMnI89lNxgDxwNBC2czd-sZ9-tbr3YykX8BynNzgWmmtvbWSsIhYBaBggJZ4G_GYr-hp799szHgdNugnBGxv-duY0CIOZqy5rBiEoooRL-Q6CzjvTzBTxr4i774JiJbNe1d6KxmQa/s1600-h/IMG_7537.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQw6wMnI89lNxgDxwNBC2czd-sZ9-tbr3YykX8BynNzgWmmtvbWSsIhYBaBggJZ4G_GYr-hp799szHgdNugnBGxv-duY0CIOZqy5rBiEoooRL-Q6CzjvTzBTxr4i774JiJbNe1d6KxmQa/s320/IMG_7537.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333840628923384514" /></a><br /><br />Loraine was right when she said we HAD to see this temple, it was definitely my favorite of all that I visited in Japan. It overlooked the entire city, and how fitting that we were catching the sunset over this magnificent city on our last night in Japan. It was a race against the sun to get as many photos as we could, and as we dashed around the place, we couldn't stop discussing how cool of a party we could throw there “OK so I think that the hillside shrine right over there would be perfect for the DJ booth because it overlooks the whole temple.” “YA YA and undrneath that platform would be perfect for lasers and discoballs and all that. Oh shit the GO-GOs! I'd have 1 dancing on that pylon, like 3 on that roof, of course at least 1 on that balcony, and then 1 in that corner, that corner, that corner, that balcony, that corner, that corner, that balcony...” <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTKc00j2ADvSyucBfd6X1a6ylp7GHnjL5lSeGePhXwq5qeHqkmO8WvxKpX0q4iNNsDmoPIwMPAh9otqIADbRUS7Q2nDH5lP0gaHwh3p40KtVxZOoNbSM-FAbzEKM_-QPtO83AzBxRSYEw/s1600-h/P1040217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTKc00j2ADvSyucBfd6X1a6ylp7GHnjL5lSeGePhXwq5qeHqkmO8WvxKpX0q4iNNsDmoPIwMPAh9otqIADbRUS7Q2nDH5lP0gaHwh3p40KtVxZOoNbSM-FAbzEKM_-QPtO83AzBxRSYEw/s320/P1040217.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333861957067519570" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiepZkqY5xeEoLzgIOsVCrJGcQvIpdSiykMrWYKcwJEwlMHyEqX5N5b0UiQGCauAjxvlrFHs7UVGR03_hOkS0kwlcy_ZRgp_FHQiZzuNh9HImynuUA1yH2BbL2rSCBR0ZINLSdtDAILrcDL/s1600-h/IMG_7637.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiepZkqY5xeEoLzgIOsVCrJGcQvIpdSiykMrWYKcwJEwlMHyEqX5N5b0UiQGCauAjxvlrFHs7UVGR03_hOkS0kwlcy_ZRgp_FHQiZzuNh9HImynuUA1yH2BbL2rSCBR0ZINLSdtDAILrcDL/s320/IMG_7637.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333853519710519682" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDG9vQ3_A4sTd5sSy8pwo-_0gnOhIN3TE4hIp6ldtfBjKNxMNphynmfkFeoBuN8ZhtfZJ3zrX1LERMB8zirKy3DQ_jgmS9Uvf7gl9k7zNf2a6LQEs7JDCDXW6Yfh2xYkCMP9Ys1_4EgY3F/s1600-h/IMG_7631.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDG9vQ3_A4sTd5sSy8pwo-_0gnOhIN3TE4hIp6ldtfBjKNxMNphynmfkFeoBuN8ZhtfZJ3zrX1LERMB8zirKy3DQ_jgmS9Uvf7gl9k7zNf2a6LQEs7JDCDXW6Yfh2xYkCMP9Ys1_4EgY3F/s320/IMG_7631.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333851194544415426" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQ29gbXHOIWYN19NyXjBpmKFp7wRGxAtAEzf6JkggggH8qA_Nq3bB4tcMZ_pkzchX4LAKjsk8UAq72WKifP6xneNNVRp-0fN17D9r8wCiKc1lW11VFzRPCknB8LL0Qm6aJh8kXPtGdgqd/s1600-h/IMG_7589.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQ29gbXHOIWYN19NyXjBpmKFp7wRGxAtAEzf6JkggggH8qA_Nq3bB4tcMZ_pkzchX4LAKjsk8UAq72WKifP6xneNNVRp-0fN17D9r8wCiKc1lW11VFzRPCknB8LL0Qm6aJh8kXPtGdgqd/s320/IMG_7589.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333851187686312482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfKbB5jOftWgR66OXjBH6-l0n3t_dgAekj1Wk1FFA8i2zHVCjIdke_hUaPiMjf1F72OIrEldP7ezIEGlGT6T4o14v2IZNhglQiwoyzIWhCLLGJ_tTk-Acw_X8iDsFeuiPIGsaQoriLAt1/s1600-h/P1040232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfKbB5jOftWgR66OXjBH6-l0n3t_dgAekj1Wk1FFA8i2zHVCjIdke_hUaPiMjf1F72OIrEldP7ezIEGlGT6T4o14v2IZNhglQiwoyzIWhCLLGJ_tTk-Acw_X8iDsFeuiPIGsaQoriLAt1/s320/P1040232.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333859031462248962" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHfl4oy7XjJ4TNDGXdUGD5Ehyphenhyphen6uikza7guf49Xut-KabGPjNZCYC8ks8o8oE9FtDEbueGxXjPvHRoY1BHNQA3RmZD-QFu7JuTCBmqnHSj5f7QfZPwBOsUM36ozh6fz4o79Tr4rLQXUpaA/s1600-h/P1040252.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHfl4oy7XjJ4TNDGXdUGD5Ehyphenhyphen6uikza7guf49Xut-KabGPjNZCYC8ks8o8oE9FtDEbueGxXjPvHRoY1BHNQA3RmZD-QFu7JuTCBmqnHSj5f7QfZPwBOsUM36ozh6fz4o79Tr4rLQXUpaA/s320/P1040252.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333859031505680146" /></a><br /><br />Ratings & Reactions for Japan [1-10:Terrible-Terrific]<br />Language Barrier: 9...so hard to communicate<br />Locals: Outlandishly kınd and stylish- 8<br />Women: HOT HOT HOT- 9<br />Food: AMAZING- 8.5<br />Nightlife: Too much hip hop and hard hard trance- 7<br /><br />Top 3 highlights:<br />1)Karaoke<br />2)Being surprısed by our great friends from home, Todd & Matt<br />3)Running around downtown Tokyo on NYE dressed as Pikachu<br /><br />Unique Things to Japan:<br />1)Toilet seat heaters<br />2)Vendıng machine beer and cup noodles<br />3)Being treated lıke a celebrity when you dress-up like gıant yellow cartoon characterYounghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-27464512128513432122009-01-12T08:13:00.000-08:002009-05-23T08:53:49.892-07:00[Days 101 - 107] Osaka: Whale Sharks, Mantas, Asian Medicine and more CastlesA chilled-out change of pace, with an amazing mix name...<br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/37230?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />I wake hungover sweating in a fever: sleep the day away while Brad and Jen see stuff. Next morning is the same, & the next... I'm sick. Guess that 4-night blur caught up to me. Jen's host mom, Oba-san, is a doll, & though she can't speak a word of ingrish, cares for me like her own, taking me to a local doctor who gives peculiar Chinese medicine: I gargle granules for 2 minutes 3x per day—strange, tastes like cereal & does nothing. I stay sick, cutting a total of 4 days off our country tour. On the 6th morning, I say screw it & Brad & me buy tickets for the next town on our agenda, Osaka.<br /><br />I continue laying low on account of being ill. Eventually go to a hospital in hopes of finding western medicine, & it was there that I witnessed the world's best janitor. **Japanese take pride in everything they do... taxi drivers wear white gloves, 7-Eleven clerks always perky & ready to help, in the subway you see men in suits, Jen calls them 'salary men', they have what we consider 'real world jobs' & work 10-12 hour days, 6 days a week, no joke, & on the subway at night you always see 1 falling asleep reading a document on their way home. This hospital janitor had the same determination. <br /> <br />I'm waiting to be seen when he turns a corner, concentrating hard—button down yellow shirt tucked-into navy slacks, carries large Swifter-like mop, walks rigid on the prowl. After a few steps he sees a dirty spot on floor—darts toward it, mops it, then steps his left foot on the mop just like Michael Jackson (unintentionally) twirling around to rub it out, then stands stiff admiring his work. And then he's off again down the hall mopping everthying like an olympic curler. Someone walks pass so he pauses, steps aside, bows, & then jumps right back to it. One would think he's dancing to an iPod or coked-up or something, but no earbuds and his face is relaxed, he just reeeeally wants those floors clean, to do a good job.<br /><br />Eventually I get seen by a doctor who speaks shattered ingrish, so I draw a picture of my symptoms and she gives me more weird medicine...<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyfJYAA01aPZ2ygOvCaf_-cEeByFEgOHDHsgm3dlLaBW88_t4tuI_lFk98DKCfntgrgVs_7-i_mKe2w2ZmkeA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />I do this for 3 days & start feeling amazing, so we go to Osaka Aquarium & see manna-rays & whale sharks...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIYmw5vYJ5dqV9Gs_fZUVF8tmvTNNBcn8XA2aGF5_4JdjlTsGRb8dquSq8-JHuuqYVXrpDjh-AiKEVlk4YH8UYK5J4QI7JVxI4hEAJVRAHtg2afFVk-_hx_1LRD9TaZysWkq4eEttGMXL/s1600-h/whale"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIYmw5vYJ5dqV9Gs_fZUVF8tmvTNNBcn8XA2aGF5_4JdjlTsGRb8dquSq8-JHuuqYVXrpDjh-AiKEVlk4YH8UYK5J4QI7JVxI4hEAJVRAHtg2afFVk-_hx_1LRD9TaZysWkq4eEttGMXL/s320/whale" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339012123872539986" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi20S-EaufsgEJGBVc7dqED1sgsCjIRL1c5HVzgKMAOMHz90c0Iq3g5gMPUPFuKkjqK8nib4FufhQpVol8xe4WgvAh1_9coq-xQpxyRlFgBFb2IqUgnCbDS7kdb8F2xjYg350JT6dATRf7e/s1600-h/manta"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi20S-EaufsgEJGBVc7dqED1sgsCjIRL1c5HVzgKMAOMHz90c0Iq3g5gMPUPFuKkjqK8nib4FufhQpVol8xe4WgvAh1_9coq-xQpxyRlFgBFb2IqUgnCbDS7kdb8F2xjYg350JT6dATRf7e/s320/manta" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339012123223980610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57rCpY4qgrODd6JQJo1tWj6IK1ejGWKSGKgzcdmOPBmWzo_IkrFRtlTmJW-drLi1D_tv264h3bXPSkdFhQlHkBUGx8AuV5ulfkqqZJgnk0GY2TmcoO3RJ6J-vfFSko3RRVQZYOfJ43Gh3/s1600-h/jelly"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57rCpY4qgrODd6JQJo1tWj6IK1ejGWKSGKgzcdmOPBmWzo_IkrFRtlTmJW-drLi1D_tv264h3bXPSkdFhQlHkBUGx8AuV5ulfkqqZJgnk0GY2TmcoO3RJ6J-vfFSko3RRVQZYOfJ43Gh3/s320/jelly" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339012119075348754" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUaeQNTxWf3292zTfxneoQzhQdFPqeuNL73kqwcOc63edYrvGWb0uE5ZW9onGKdnqW6n4faHlpddFchzm0VcbqKZBEPGQC5XQAwL7KGWKb3KCMuVxFZQqYtjbVp6quIINt9s8fttpe-ox/s1600-h/P1030807.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUaeQNTxWf3292zTfxneoQzhQdFPqeuNL73kqwcOc63edYrvGWb0uE5ZW9onGKdnqW6n4faHlpddFchzm0VcbqKZBEPGQC5XQAwL7KGWKb3KCMuVxFZQqYtjbVp6quIINt9s8fttpe-ox/s320/P1030807.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338927402755349202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRts8GKyyl0TUQijBSNh_YjxMPMnK5eU5WWXApZWLCKPeyHXTB6LfH0d5gCoDFtfGZB7E9TtD_FCi8XZ6O9U0ZvLFJZzMo1WgWb6yhH_fERoUZiVCG4h_1Ltcb_Q6F7QvR-XfGAElKbek/s1600-h/fish"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRts8GKyyl0TUQijBSNh_YjxMPMnK5eU5WWXApZWLCKPeyHXTB6LfH0d5gCoDFtfGZB7E9TtD_FCi8XZ6O9U0ZvLFJZzMo1WgWb6yhH_fERoUZiVCG4h_1Ltcb_Q6F7QvR-XfGAElKbek/s320/fish" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339012122382287042" /></a><br /><br /><br />We also go to Osaka castle. It's incredible, and we can't stop discussing how gnarly paintball would be there...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEietCvbRFS2SfGz1jCYwblJc5JGU8WnAvmJ_L-EEGKOFyLFZ4Dj5hh8XN92H5fQBhflEv2QnkBFbIcda1RiT3dEI0a4xHbIe2R59GJcSPyb4DAcVR1bE55q7fRuagL7y8jl8wxutk74LkIe/s1600-h/3440526119_05e8d874d3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEietCvbRFS2SfGz1jCYwblJc5JGU8WnAvmJ_L-EEGKOFyLFZ4Dj5hh8XN92H5fQBhflEv2QnkBFbIcda1RiT3dEI0a4xHbIe2R59GJcSPyb4DAcVR1bE55q7fRuagL7y8jl8wxutk74LkIe/s320/3440526119_05e8d874d3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925610818139298" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTRnZwS5O4-xtpsavOCiJ0gXKWaU5vU5pOnmxw3JH2nkRmgFpB_AcBJZPupxS_ZDrmyYLKC78IVRtRQcjvGUfztEuUmQozjT7LqoKIp1Nw9qIxTh9Javs0RZCLQ76x6ijayKNl-kn_GZA/s1600-h/3440515017_94440a228e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiTRnZwS5O4-xtpsavOCiJ0gXKWaU5vU5pOnmxw3JH2nkRmgFpB_AcBJZPupxS_ZDrmyYLKC78IVRtRQcjvGUfztEuUmQozjT7LqoKIp1Nw9qIxTh9Javs0RZCLQ76x6ijayKNl-kn_GZA/s320/3440515017_94440a228e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925612525322290" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhCdKy7hUUjTJ2vm6dia5Kb2No4IWiMzKwWqBe-2BTQbrSKt7lKRg8JiRaxC6kwY5zjFaYY5NvD9Z0k7eNT3UcgGTy2cgOmQToOQ-kS45pTVPuajjyhmeKRFx9o1HvrkgnUt0v2zh-6QM/s1600-h/3440511671_67a883b811.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhCdKy7hUUjTJ2vm6dia5Kb2No4IWiMzKwWqBe-2BTQbrSKt7lKRg8JiRaxC6kwY5zjFaYY5NvD9Z0k7eNT3UcgGTy2cgOmQToOQ-kS45pTVPuajjyhmeKRFx9o1HvrkgnUt0v2zh-6QM/s320/3440511671_67a883b811.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925606069347378" /></a><br /><br />Finally, we peep the cityview from the SkyGarden.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj7Qq5jRYKIz4KI51rxUQ4E5BV16LVLCYo1MDR1y5Z5GnE6Kl2Hn6jP-7mK5csyFZbUve63kSd2q-J_5_hedhzykSVUxpGGMnbwpzPJT4nyAK81Eob9tCPYWGJ-wmcTwg1M1sGujdBThv/s1600-h/3184941514_4a0682e390.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZj7Qq5jRYKIz4KI51rxUQ4E5BV16LVLCYo1MDR1y5Z5GnE6Kl2Hn6jP-7mK5csyFZbUve63kSd2q-J_5_hedhzykSVUxpGGMnbwpzPJT4nyAK81Eob9tCPYWGJ-wmcTwg1M1sGujdBThv/s320/3184941514_4a0682e390.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925072428726786" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpsfNB4bA70b4F-465KZ_5sbGNep3PY2mTbGY6V12RL2FOONVyyZQPGHAK6MaTK1QTJA2eVZ4LP_J8B4fo10V8fyXsZDO_nWeG1CpsdPjnXoTyl3Q4CkTDhtN75_-IgyVfM4-ghx-XhK1/s1600-h/3184938192_a1dc394028.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpsfNB4bA70b4F-465KZ_5sbGNep3PY2mTbGY6V12RL2FOONVyyZQPGHAK6MaTK1QTJA2eVZ4LP_J8B4fo10V8fyXsZDO_nWeG1CpsdPjnXoTyl3Q4CkTDhtN75_-IgyVfM4-ghx-XhK1/s320/3184938192_a1dc394028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925071447297794" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg78dfED1zanq8gYyhbRB3AlTZAeRJvFMjvFwvDh4cp2qRJWoFouInGE_Woyj41VQl7ZR2bgcV5G44pkZi-cZBAX7OvNvZbdT4Rnj5EvRaSCDtscF5em-KAofTeB4s_BSEvWVYDJnWKI47/s1600-h/3184935506_4eb848d305.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg78dfED1zanq8gYyhbRB3AlTZAeRJvFMjvFwvDh4cp2qRJWoFouInGE_Woyj41VQl7ZR2bgcV5G44pkZi-cZBAX7OvNvZbdT4Rnj5EvRaSCDtscF5em-KAofTeB4s_BSEvWVYDJnWKI47/s320/3184935506_4eb848d305.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338925071860556130" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6d5LmdIjmk7YIzY-XpFxkFImRCMl98Z3APwqWWjy0js-bbhA6B4SxsoeEX3hAQCpxl3JjH_dZRuXnipTaoh4GPGH3fHzBmBzAweXKEYzPVFbAaUd5TzkEUVkTMwi9CHZJtEchsCSwZyJ2/s1600-h/P1030858.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6d5LmdIjmk7YIzY-XpFxkFImRCMl98Z3APwqWWjy0js-bbhA6B4SxsoeEX3hAQCpxl3JjH_dZRuXnipTaoh4GPGH3fHzBmBzAweXKEYzPVFbAaUd5TzkEUVkTMwi9CHZJtEchsCSwZyJ2/s320/P1030858.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338927405492798962" /></a>Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-41917713533773354472009-01-01T10:38:00.000-08:002009-05-14T14:50:58.115-07:00[Day 100] Pokemon, New Year's Eve, BreakdancingHere is a playlist put together by our good friend Todd who is in this post as well as the last post, he ıs a filmmaker living in LA, trying to get a feature film made, traveling as much as he can. When hes not working on film stuff you can catch hım at local music spots. If you want to check out any more of hıs musical likings check out hıs myspace <a href="http://myspace.com/polymotion">http://myspace.com/polymotion </a> or any of hıs film work check out his webpage ><a href="http://myspace.com/polymotion">http://myspace.com/polymotion </a>. He is a super-talented guy with an amazıng ear for music!!!<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowScriptAccess="never" allowNetworking="internal" height="150" width="400" data="http://poly-motion.com/todd/mp3player.swf"> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never" /> <param name="allowNetworking" value="internal" /> <param name="movie" value="http://poly-motion.com/todd/mp3player.swf" /> <param name="flashvars" value="&displayheight=0&file=http://poly-motion.com/todd/playgames.xml&height=150&width=400&backcolor=0x66FFFF&lightcolor=0x66FF99&displaywidth=400overstretch=none&showeq=true&autostart=false&bufferlength=100&repeat=list&rotatetime=0&shuffle=false&volume=100&useaudio=false&usecapti..false&usefullscreen=false" /></object><br /><br />Hey world! We're ın south Tukey at the ruıns of Mt. Olympos. People hıke, chıll on the beach, sleep ın tree houses, and drınk. There are 3 bars and a nıghtclub at our place; we're sharıng our tree house wıth 2 awesome kıds from Sydney... they've spent the last 5 months ın many of the countrıes we're about to see, and they're en route to Asıa, so we spent last nıght belly-laughıng swappıng storıes, advice, and booze. Tonıght we're goıng to see thıs crazy mountaın that has small flames dwındlıng outta lıttle holes on ıt's summıt.<br /><br />Here's what went down on New Years Eve..................................<br /><br />Day before NYE, Jen invites us all to stay with her host family. 45 minute train arrive in her part of town, Kokbunji, a university area, and we the exit bustling station into a wintery afternoon. Walk down oil-weathered sidestreet—see a convenience store selling adult-size, full-body pajamas... 1-piece, hooded, Pokemon costumes. We buy Pikachu. <br /><br />Continue pass uniform'd students (many wear a surgical mask) and strange cars, people on funny bikes fly by (many wear a surgical mask). Turn pleasant road where lining houses resemble those in Ocean Beach—compact 2-story places with the top floor converted into spearate loft. Jen's house has a beautiful Japanese garden of small hedges and flowers. She greets us seeing the Pikachu cotume, says “I can't believe you guys bought that.” <br />“YA YA! ridiculous right? We're wearing it tomorrow night for New Years!” <br />“(chuckling) Dude, you guys don't understand how much people love animation here. Some girls get off to that shit.”<br />“FUZZIES?” we don't believe her—plan to test next night—decide Brado wears it en route to preparty at kareoke, then I sing in it, then Todd wears it at the club, and Matt wears it back home, because he can breakdance best, and not just anyone can breakdance in a subway station dressed as Pikachu.<br /><br />Next night Todd, Kelly, and Matt leave early for food, agreeing to meet us at the kareoke. Jen, Bradon, and I lag behind, then hit up golden arches for McPorks because a ricebowl topped with something bland, like steamed spinach, runs about 4 bucks. There, Bradon steps into the yellow Pokemon costume, and not 1 local notices, not even when he busts out a celebratory Roger Rabbit. Now on the subway, Jen cracks open the vodka and we go swig for swig. Walking down the street with the courage of Kenny Rogers, he goes wild running up stairs and down alleyways. Suddenly we hear “PIKA!” and he takes off—3 girls are chasing after him arms outstretched.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm7wkkCwvwlsPC0njjAyB3gwpD9esYEpgpLWtOsuZB6fiLlqhWtC8vbaQb6ArO1Tlo8hesY-BZl0_JxaOxDol3Fw-2-IxzHIKSXHlNNVPURmle-32srOqbrZVd2fqQzoRPm8FKf0nXtIx/s1600-h/brad+p%C4%B1k%C4%B1a+vodka.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm7wkkCwvwlsPC0njjAyB3gwpD9esYEpgpLWtOsuZB6fiLlqhWtC8vbaQb6ArO1Tlo8hesY-BZl0_JxaOxDol3Fw-2-IxzHIKSXHlNNVPURmle-32srOqbrZVd2fqQzoRPm8FKf0nXtIx/s400/brad+p%C4%B1k%C4%B1a+vodka.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335591729550212194" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjIWnjA5B0RBcr1PWQ2ii-A6i0pkcHyVHcrJSXGF8EbNFEuxEkbxDuopN2G_2b-jsJnJCzNgQ5kz125JoEpYyjkYMtIZN7IJzMlOhGo-Xh8IjM5-5R4AszL4oA2b3S0hPoR86faT5b1Mo/s1600-h/brad+hand+stand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjIWnjA5B0RBcr1PWQ2ii-A6i0pkcHyVHcrJSXGF8EbNFEuxEkbxDuopN2G_2b-jsJnJCzNgQ5kz125JoEpYyjkYMtIZN7IJzMlOhGo-Xh8IjM5-5R4AszL4oA2b3S0hPoR86faT5b1Mo/s400/brad+hand+stand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335591728782386626" /></a><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8c42af47aa&photo_id=3444535456"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8c42af47aa&photo_id=3444535456" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br />See the gang as well as a few of Jen's comrads, waiting at the kareoke building. After some high-adrenaline hugs, we pay for a private room. I hurry on the suit and 9 of us spend an hour trashing the place singing White Snake, Haddaway, and 2LiveCrew. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBewR00MsS4-j3oqj4LoxSgUrjzSal0guiKECcQipDxAXg6LRoOiItOTCJwLEZWt8QLlvttO_PKeF3M0VUO3VzJNo_-73XVrVSLDE6LpnBmnNBfU8PDT_5_R0I1_2IraN6xAXUyngwzI1e/s1600-h/f%C4%B1sh+eye.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBewR00MsS4-j3oqj4LoxSgUrjzSal0guiKECcQipDxAXg6LRoOiItOTCJwLEZWt8QLlvttO_PKeF3M0VUO3VzJNo_-73XVrVSLDE6LpnBmnNBfU8PDT_5_R0I1_2IraN6xAXUyngwzI1e/s400/f%C4%B1sh+eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335591730803502482" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoPdXerMHy7UsBW_ioXdXck7QwbIJdllhWV2NmNP1O52LXc7BY-pkBXz2ulDibez7QTSWGezuIkI8RxeF1f1nUZ-blXWDjR_T-Fkl_r33kzCQWnLmGCA0GX70UPKi2Nbi432F_ot8d7PF/s1600-h/garrett+s%C4%B1ng+p%C4%B1ka.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoPdXerMHy7UsBW_ioXdXck7QwbIJdllhWV2NmNP1O52LXc7BY-pkBXz2ulDibez7QTSWGezuIkI8RxeF1f1nUZ-blXWDjR_T-Fkl_r33kzCQWnLmGCA0GX70UPKi2Nbi432F_ot8d7PF/s400/garrett+s%C4%B1ng+p%C4%B1ka.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335591731152943410" /></a><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a839cc1020&photo_id=3532145076"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a839cc1020&photo_id=3532145076" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=4e3407623b&photo_id=3528932738"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=4e3407623b&photo_id=3528932738" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwRyEQNQNo1uEutUYBCyULXNXovWVNYuLCXX8S9JmhB6d10dgaXBtew7eJtO2afpyjAmOtvXNO0BtBo_rG0' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />4 vodka flasks laid to rest, Todd gets on the get-up and bolts into the Tokyo night—vanishing. The remaining 8 of us stumble the sidewalk glowing, still singing, toward the reving-up clubs of Shibuya, arm-in-arm scanning for Todd to pop out and scare us or something. We turn a corner and he's 6-stepping surrounded by girls, who are saying things like “OH YA PIKA!” What the hell.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtM_m-LjMXN6yS6n1LlU1DaKsk1raZsdKPeViAGScULDWyvdbifVyzo7XH6u_ed9PpDK1pj113TNxd8crqwRSIqLihI9F_PFeXaj29A6Uh7X2yj5jUyciWDjg-_DgPogXBd5I08SwG1EQT/s1600-h/todd+elevator2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtM_m-LjMXN6yS6n1LlU1DaKsk1raZsdKPeViAGScULDWyvdbifVyzo7XH6u_ed9PpDK1pj113TNxd8crqwRSIqLihI9F_PFeXaj29A6Uh7X2yj5jUyciWDjg-_DgPogXBd5I08SwG1EQT/s400/todd+elevator2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594229335706370" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-T3rYWtKnZR1p4iLwgK2AUAxJqMC4FXl1qo3R9TZlc4Aamq1vNIzL8O5mcD06uI0ejYl4SZ2JvPLIoe1TyCxrVPjGSLT_8ujHvbSIxe27kZnveNtMGr-hM-CwoA5wPtjnwn31PZSgxmA/s1600-h/todd+run.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-T3rYWtKnZR1p4iLwgK2AUAxJqMC4FXl1qo3R9TZlc4Aamq1vNIzL8O5mcD06uI0ejYl4SZ2JvPLIoe1TyCxrVPjGSLT_8ujHvbSIxe27kZnveNtMGr-hM-CwoA5wPtjnwn31PZSgxmA/s400/todd+run.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594230201271202" /></a><br />Arrive Shibuya. Coincidentally, I'm trotting beside Todd and the bouncers love him. Redrope unlatches and the 2 of us take a lift to 3rd floor nightclub. A gauntlet of cheering people part a path for Todd, virtually everygirl goes ape-shit jumping on him, screaming for him, kissing him, buying him drinks, all while last year's popular rap music gets hurrah'd.<br /><br />The night carries on like this for a while and we never see the group. An hour passes by, then another, still nothing so we leave and WOW the streets are jamming! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFCbXMPZRCbIxopreZoSkIcXAcqenq0DCY46L4dmfJcSNi71ULJXmXNpBqGSN2mA8b7cEPT4hys2YKBxTjmIiKR1q9FoMw_RSrZE1mkoXDKvIwG_QJcf5OQ8GAJ5iUlsVIW4vCbzAIuQu/s1600-h/streets.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFCbXMPZRCbIxopreZoSkIcXAcqenq0DCY46L4dmfJcSNi71ULJXmXNpBqGSN2mA8b7cEPT4hys2YKBxTjmIiKR1q9FoMw_RSrZE1mkoXDKvIwG_QJcf5OQ8GAJ5iUlsVIW4vCbzAIuQu/s400/streets.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335595826451116786" /></a><br />We walk around looking for 'em all, nothing, and randomly go into Starbucks... there they are. Bradon explains that Matt started falling asleep in line, so they brought him to Starbucks (open 24hrs), and he passed out in a chair... they'd been there the whole time babysitting! But, Matt slurred out a promise to make it up to them. Kelly, a marathon runner, demanded cake buffet—in Japan they have buffet-style dessert restaraunts, cake-buffets. They also have all-you-can-drink pubs, which charge by-the-hour.<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=98d07c7532&photo_id=3528022995"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=98d07c7532&photo_id=3528022995" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br />We convince the slumbering giant to take 3 espresso shots, and he perks right up and hops into Pikachu just as promised... <br />7-11 munchies<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkk6yT7cXDXtsoqc-J3YFnan2Rit3nXAyyalsWzR01W77t8fWPw6SzLiKIDV2bAnS0mpjL6KMAAGacW4RyFjKX7soKxhif3JpylzT4O7O8HittjVhyyK6JcVYF2TLD9iXkGeun8rkR6BY/s1600-h/late+n%C4%B1ght+munch%C4%B1es.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkk6yT7cXDXtsoqc-J3YFnan2Rit3nXAyyalsWzR01W77t8fWPw6SzLiKIDV2bAnS0mpjL6KMAAGacW4RyFjKX7soKxhif3JpylzT4O7O8HittjVhyyK6JcVYF2TLD9iXkGeun8rkR6BY/s400/late+n%C4%B1ght+munch%C4%B1es.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594225925317026" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuSdUmZUqMe0AZK8CW2_2QJWAm3XUXcwXViyzvTIoFf1hAJHJiJU_QzoBFuOnyvM2dGX0MReFiuWUNL-bzvxbYJl4jJzoALL_qf8DxJm2bDXZ8n5eyzhYHAI_ahk4vpYn9TQ1DIPGyRNh/s1600-h/subway.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnuSdUmZUqMe0AZK8CW2_2QJWAm3XUXcwXViyzvTIoFf1hAJHJiJU_QzoBFuOnyvM2dGX0MReFiuWUNL-bzvxbYJl4jJzoALL_qf8DxJm2bDXZ8n5eyzhYHAI_ahk4vpYn9TQ1DIPGyRNh/s400/subway.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594224169080578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzwGSmEOfU7Q4Yj4GbwIoARae5roNiYMHVe8zqIZB5BKie1MsmcfSHg6ZWZienDWdefGBvPgvPl-6gUQDEsYLAj7m_cIElUKou16ELEwYdYOlKfpGpKvcQ2OVXWuz9J0A3Gd_Gfru6k28K/s1600-h/group+jumkp%C4%B1ng.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzwGSmEOfU7Q4Yj4GbwIoARae5roNiYMHVe8zqIZB5BKie1MsmcfSHg6ZWZienDWdefGBvPgvPl-6gUQDEsYLAj7m_cIElUKou16ELEwYdYOlKfpGpKvcQ2OVXWuz9J0A3Gd_Gfru6k28K/s400/group+jumkp%C4%B1ng.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594223150499826" /></a><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw-qgDLg0D3YPNzRReY4Coek2XrbYl8tnrjM9yDP-_se4znqDZdr3BPtYs8xSWbj3KsWqmTvhzB0NcIG2CqLA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-64172400557321303422008-12-30T10:00:00.000-08:002009-05-14T09:50:45.096-07:00[Day 99] Pırate Shıps, Eat ıt Alıve, KaraokeEargasms...<br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14752?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />I wrıte thıs from a hotel lobby ın Selçuk Turkey... beautıful hılltown near the Aegıan Sea. Today we saw the ruıns of the bıggest cıty ın ancıent Rome, as well as the home belıeved to belong to Vırgın Mary... pretty cool, but to be honest Egypt ıs hard to top and I can't waıt for the south country clubs.<br /><br />Here's more from Tokyo. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTbhK7zq_YNrW8dNGzWFbTvz3wAGAym8s0wZw7ocmDNoa_8ukDo_Zq6R7QSbf-JX4EOQV1eq9hxF0QH9-ctCCw_-aoLhMdkvw14SzEnaGDdr0DwdtPleu6cqLBQp3SENt-iBGSVY4ZQ8dX/s1600-h/subway.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTbhK7zq_YNrW8dNGzWFbTvz3wAGAym8s0wZw7ocmDNoa_8ukDo_Zq6R7QSbf-JX4EOQV1eq9hxF0QH9-ctCCw_-aoLhMdkvw14SzEnaGDdr0DwdtPleu6cqLBQp3SENt-iBGSVY4ZQ8dX/s400/subway.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333505974251254306" /></a><br />We go sightseeing—various trains to bus station, then up wintery hills to lakeside mountain village. The biggest thing there is a boat terminal, where ferries & 10s of swan-shaped peddle boats rest for couples in sumertime. It's icey at that elevation, & the chill racing off the water is incredible. Buy tickets for a touristic Pirate ship, & when it comes, we can't help but add random ARRGHs to every sentence. Dash down harbor, board, & with a big BERAAAAGH the ship sets forth. From lake-middle we notice several temples meditating atop surrounding peaks. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgT44ohBI3aloyS0kZ_8L44C-Z2oJu3yXlprrcFJWxkC2O4ngavTFv492IMhw4jKMTr_owLDtgqHfp4XMDMhXQkkoaZJL1bWEVSfSxPAMMb0KaHeVpBDlT9AxAHBqGXqFCvyX2ASSFmhg/s1600-h/p%C4%B1rates.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgT44ohBI3aloyS0kZ_8L44C-Z2oJu3yXlprrcFJWxkC2O4ngavTFv492IMhw4jKMTr_owLDtgqHfp4XMDMhXQkkoaZJL1bWEVSfSxPAMMb0KaHeVpBDlT9AxAHBqGXqFCvyX2ASSFmhg/s400/p%C4%B1rates.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333503174931575122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnGojvdo7pqpN_qS42KzNk2I4d-SYNNu0eIJ3fOipsbYHxrBmDwKcFyWKKn2jy_stysp5Y7EsCu0jlhcUp25FZ8B-oa6St1czgzLySFvzYXPwsBg-X59xERyCo8hvF1AzBqRZR1SlE6ZM/s1600-h/temples.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnGojvdo7pqpN_qS42KzNk2I4d-SYNNu0eIJ3fOipsbYHxrBmDwKcFyWKKn2jy_stysp5Y7EsCu0jlhcUp25FZ8B-oa6St1czgzLySFvzYXPwsBg-X59xERyCo8hvF1AzBqRZR1SlE6ZM/s400/temples.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333503175857484882" /></a><br />Dock in far-off port—quaint, full of more swan-shaped boats, all nestled in dramatic valley. Dash through cold and into warm building. Immediately buy hot chocolates, then cones of green-tea soft-serve (strange texture, like apple flesh). After regaining circulation, we board cable cars. Through north-facing window see Mount Fugi—snow-capped, immense, so much higher than everything, as if mountain itself is torso of a sumo celebrity, head being Fugi, ostensibly pondering the whole of Japan. Cable car climbs into wilderness, over passes see mines that turned the soil electric, & sulfuric hot-springs are everywhere adding earthy scents. Float down mountain behind village, then hop on bus & traverse back to citylife.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXcDRxC8WjUlYXuBQTGSuw0AdAi0zbyH0trE23SPGk954tvECnpMCA_BwkGkF4-xrj68OrsJlA7oV79E0bQjwr-uluVZgQ5CAL5p5Ej0Cjf362f6bwoFcm3bquOpSfRT9WcZplISc4N6lh/s1600-h/beg%C4%B1n+cable+car.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXcDRxC8WjUlYXuBQTGSuw0AdAi0zbyH0trE23SPGk954tvECnpMCA_BwkGkF4-xrj68OrsJlA7oV79E0bQjwr-uluVZgQ5CAL5p5Ej0Cjf362f6bwoFcm3bquOpSfRT9WcZplISc4N6lh/s400/beg%C4%B1n+cable+car.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333503584236782450" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUPIPKjIstNn7WZzAnni4KSxcL2EKghyphenhyphenB0xtQ5pUnDg3LGrsG6XsBagxyIUrm_ZYmsCDTvNXR6Rpe7sRXCaM8E9h6cyPlTUZgvORDQ22y0FRABwOhQyDGj-zU7T6Pilnfp93RQcbCkU4QO/s1600-h/fug%C4%B1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUPIPKjIstNn7WZzAnni4KSxcL2EKghyphenhyphenB0xtQ5pUnDg3LGrsG6XsBagxyIUrm_ZYmsCDTvNXR6Rpe7sRXCaM8E9h6cyPlTUZgvORDQ22y0FRABwOhQyDGj-zU7T6Pilnfp93RQcbCkU4QO/s400/fug%C4%B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333503583381568562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6DVGRJ7DSJjZK1BIIWoOexoUaD_a2fEL1jNi7yGXs33pWK91TQUoEFjasPCqsCdZ2zokDdsvVy42_qW4O7IxkvaLQDZOfH4lCM2lWKuUyAgsn6mnBlKrTIw1J1rQd66d7C2LKXhEiS5r/s1600-h/m%C4%B1nes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6DVGRJ7DSJjZK1BIIWoOexoUaD_a2fEL1jNi7yGXs33pWK91TQUoEFjasPCqsCdZ2zokDdsvVy42_qW4O7IxkvaLQDZOfH4lCM2lWKuUyAgsn6mnBlKrTIw1J1rQd66d7C2LKXhEiS5r/s400/m%C4%B1nes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333503580744243506" /></a><br />Exit few stops early for “best sushi in Tokyo.” After 20 minute cue in outdoor freeze, we squeeze in small barside section, which surrounds 2 sushi chefs who skillfully prepare every color of fish. Beside me is nice Japanese couple who promptly spark conversation and explain the restaraunt: just beyond our resting elbows is a river, hand-width, on which various types of sushi float on elegant porcelain boats—like Kabuki Sushi in Pacific Beach, different types of sushi have different types of boats: rainbow rolls float on boats painted black with orange dots, nigiri salmon floats on boats painted green with pink curlicues, etc—take from the river what looks appetizing, then at meal's end, get charged for the quantity/type of boats we collect. <br /><br />We dive in. Though everyone's on a budget, we splurge. 6 dishes fill me up, but eveything's soo right. I get adventurous—ask the couple for something strange... whale—violet color, flavor like lean beef & mint... magnificent. (1 month later, Aussie friends would inform me that it was most likely a threatened species illegally caught off Autralia's coast... damn. whoops!) Then Kelly asks the couple for something strange as well: prawn, alive... nice. Her & I order it...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEI1lN3O0LgGDZVFqfxhmbTM7_Nc2jHyyQtUZQRSAIHd3YMK9OSItTC61H8YVJw9pfjFYbWazErLwl_8Tuj6X_0pCfcjJIwCGI3dhz_hyazYFsIZXOvfDHDBXuEhsCjqLX7ri_g3K5V4tH/s1600-h/plates.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEI1lN3O0LgGDZVFqfxhmbTM7_Nc2jHyyQtUZQRSAIHd3YMK9OSItTC61H8YVJw9pfjFYbWazErLwl_8Tuj6X_0pCfcjJIwCGI3dhz_hyazYFsIZXOvfDHDBXuEhsCjqLX7ri_g3K5V4tH/s400/plates.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333505969959157986" /></a><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=0048b7daef&photo_id=3444521318"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=0048b7daef&photo_id=3444521318" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=953689687a&photo_id=3443713013"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=953689687a&photo_id=3443713013" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br />Return to hostel bellies full. Facebook-chat with Jen Clark, another friend from High school living in Tokyo studying culture, and the 6 of us decide to sing kareoke in bar district Shinjuku. Again off we go. We stop at sidewalk-vending-machine for beer, meet up with Jen, exchange ploar-bear hugs, & charge toward the Kareoke building. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpqv7dMQRME-yLuLZoA7v-4s3NDNoVW3pc8Xq52RZ-5qi2naIu5_b0ctN7vGyfLZnfy2bH4JNxQtdMDecsezpIBR0MJn402nej2E9TydIFH2p90n_IZpqtdMngMeW9IdSJyUqpXjTg7pm/s1600-h/sh%C4%B1njuku.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpqv7dMQRME-yLuLZoA7v-4s3NDNoVW3pc8Xq52RZ-5qi2naIu5_b0ctN7vGyfLZnfy2bH4JNxQtdMDecsezpIBR0MJn402nej2E9TydIFH2p90n_IZpqtdMngMeW9IdSJyUqpXjTg7pm/s400/sh%C4%B1njuku.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333504419750168322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUajJjDUhDZ7ckndh3qC7rV_GdqUKaOS6ScXW4LebgQStK7EGjqtDepc2S_-2OZj7rAlgQMFpO8X_u0OHANyrTuhrGNHM8Z62yD3xadY7PCzQkdNCOFggaWpAESdXScHe62JhhRKB6EChS/s1600-h/reun%C4%B1on.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUajJjDUhDZ7ckndh3qC7rV_GdqUKaOS6ScXW4LebgQStK7EGjqtDepc2S_-2OZj7rAlgQMFpO8X_u0OHANyrTuhrGNHM8Z62yD3xadY7PCzQkdNCOFggaWpAESdXScHe62JhhRKB6EChS/s400/reun%C4%B1on.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333504327395411522" /></a><br />**In the US, kareoke's sung in big bars for drunk audiences who cheer, participate, & spill their drinks; creativity, personality, & expression are encouraged! Contrarily, Japanese kareoke's sung in tall buildings, in private rooms rented by-the-hour... this is fitting—Japanese are wonderfully polite, pleasant, & good-spirited, but also reserved, or suppressed, like their emotional volume is on permanent low; they seem to be part of a profound, confident, efficient machine—mind you, it's nothing like Big Brother, people have their own styles and privacy etc, but the idea that someone would do something outrageous in the street or in a bar or anywhere at that, is totally inconceivable. <br /><br />Elevator up to 4th floor. Walk the hall exchanging vodka pulls & I peek in rooms via tinted-glass doors—see locals in small rooms seated in couches before TVs, some alone wearing suits, really trying to sing—they hold the mic like a school girl performing national anthem at baseball game—this is how people spend their free time or unwind after work? Awesome! AH if I could hear them! <br /><br />Find our room—it's perhaps 8ft wide & 12ft deep, lit outrageous... decorators went for the acid-trip laser-tag look with black-lights glowing mural'd walls: big pictures of manta-rays flying in space, images of galaxies, shooting stars, dolphins, & angel fish. Beside the door is a TV, above which 2 party lights hang from ceiling—u-shaped couch surrounds room, & in the middle is a table on which 2 massive song-books await. We go insane! 6 of us singing to each other, jumping on furniture, banging on the walls, shaking what our mammas gave us, all the while laughing uncontrollably at how ridiculous everything is. The energy in the room was ınsane!<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=594112e602&photo_id=3530733136"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=594112e602&photo_id=3530733136" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-89807073192855832812008-12-29T11:06:00.000-08:002009-05-08T10:44:04.912-07:00[Days 97 -98] Tokyo SuprisesHip Hop!<br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/playlist/14791?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />Today is Saturday, May 2nd. Spent the last 12 nights in Egypt and good gawd it was incredible. The people, the cities, the desert, the culture, the sights... astounding... many of Brad's pics are already on his facebook. Tomorrow we arrive in Turkey for another stint of experience! <br /><br />Here's 24 hours in Tokyo...<br /><br />New Zealand was a nice introduction; Australia was a party; Bali was exotic.... Japan was a challenge. It's not foreigner friendly—every sign's in Japanese and most people “don'tuh speak eny ingrish, sawry.” It also lays claim to the best rail system (JRL) in the world. <br /><br />Our plane lands in the afternoon. It takes more than an hour to find our bags, go through customs, and get a JRL swipe card, aka Suica, which grants easy access to every train in the country. We waddle with our enormous backpacks through the airport, down to train level B5, or basement level 5 (the place has 5 stories of trainlines!). Tokyo trip takes __ minutes—extremely quick and futuristic—the car is impeccable and the seats are first class—a digital map on the wall tells location, and clocks provide both ETA and time remaining. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUfvJtIXnNp-YOIwKI_fpSh_6Jsj752M1YuTa0F-J5s5KP6i0Ux8UZ2e8mtZ80kPx5z_7zVhZeoWpeQdDi0TmelJOD5r_vnlfuEWCfKESIilm2dq1fsoe7GdqZy0v8iqLQ0WtR7NldN-M/s1600-h/welcome.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUfvJtIXnNp-YOIwKI_fpSh_6Jsj752M1YuTa0F-J5s5KP6i0Ux8UZ2e8mtZ80kPx5z_7zVhZeoWpeQdDi0TmelJOD5r_vnlfuEWCfKESIilm2dq1fsoe7GdqZy0v8iqLQ0WtR7NldN-M/s400/welcome.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331299279635524850" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWZC6Oi1Iu99wNykGP0O3RAsMihSVlbbqcOgpxXM7YSnrvdP8OSbP5Ki61hf02XqYuxA_WDzAqvdWbn94gCoPk959dNUPxSGCPDalgXSVFTOVn2rdcFQM183YW-KgI7ycK4H5QVt4oeEP/s1600-h/train.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWZC6Oi1Iu99wNykGP0O3RAsMihSVlbbqcOgpxXM7YSnrvdP8OSbP5Ki61hf02XqYuxA_WDzAqvdWbn94gCoPk959dNUPxSGCPDalgXSVFTOVn2rdcFQM183YW-KgI7ycK4H5QVt4oeEP/s400/train.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331299272887577090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9uhqLIVDWKAJGsUk46R81K0y69vmwb6dwIehAmE-ZWwnQxbSQrMOgwyEYNzXI4_jnJ-c7zMl-L208qKRDK-kZqhaRIUXYg-wB62chdsVGWc6jc53jfzr36mWNGiCjIIwapZaoMclWOPd/s1600-h/train+view.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ9uhqLIVDWKAJGsUk46R81K0y69vmwb6dwIehAmE-ZWwnQxbSQrMOgwyEYNzXI4_jnJ-c7zMl-L208qKRDK-kZqhaRIUXYg-wB62chdsVGWc6jc53jfzr36mWNGiCjIIwapZaoMclWOPd/s400/train+view.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331299269143626674" /></a><br />Now in Tokyo station, the task at hand is finding our local train and getting to the hostel—we're delirious and still semi-hungover from Christmas night. The station is astoundingly huge, the size of San Diego's Fashion Valley Mall (parking lots included), and mostly underground. There are restaurants, cafes, coffee houses, fashion boutiques, convenience stores, etc. We wander aimlessly through Japan's biggest train-hub, trying to understand the color-coded strange-named (Akinobashi, Kokobunji, Shibuya, etc) system. Though it's frustrating, it's our first glimpse at Japanese people... unforgettable.<br /><br />Many guys resemble G-Star Raw ads—denim everything with unnecessary straps, zippers, washes, and crinkles. Others are suit-clad, clean-cut, and walk determined on balls of feet. Young women dress posh in boots, warm coats, and mini-skirts. Many people run, a few strut hair styled like Anime characters. It is winter, flu-season, so 40% wear surgical masks—at first we thought this was to avoid germs or pollution, but it's the opposite: ill people (sniffles, flu, a mere cough, whatever) wear masks to not spread germs... remarkable, and sums up the general vibe of Japanese—extremely polite and kind. We ask them where our train is and the first lot smile so big then apologize for not speaking English, and giggle around seemingly nervous but I think they just naturally squirm for foreigners. Then, we ask an old balding man and he perks up pointing his index finger like a cartoon'd epiphany “Ah yass yass go o'er der den up stair” off we trudge, and we wind up exactly where the airport train let us out. Turns out many Japanese men have too much integrity to admit 'I dunno'—they instead give you wrong directions... sweet. <br /><br />Eventually, we meet a Japanese-American girl who speaks perfect ingrish, and happened to spend 6 years living in San Diego...what are the odds? She's kind enough to walk us to our train, and we thank her 88 times. Now on board, we look around and everyone's mouth's shut—they're staring at their phones, ostensibly texting (cell minutes are expensive so everyone texts, and their phones have 10 megapixel cameras). 8 ft away, in the corner, there is a fat kid (22?) playing his PSP console—I can hear the music from his headphones—oblivious to the world, he picks his nose twice and eats his findings.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1galueEURDdlz-eESCHxVQMwAuFGV_iU1eoB_EQKG9Szc4FL8yWbt0fTM7GNT1wRV1SpG2RQFbpUwy2Cma-zR2eJhEYSbFzyKD8aortOXNWdEq8BZKS5NKUxRRMyPCtkhju-r-Bdx8CY/s1600-h/tokyo+style.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1galueEURDdlz-eESCHxVQMwAuFGV_iU1eoB_EQKG9Szc4FL8yWbt0fTM7GNT1wRV1SpG2RQFbpUwy2Cma-zR2eJhEYSbFzyKD8aortOXNWdEq8BZKS5NKUxRRMyPCtkhju-r-Bdx8CY/s400/tokyo+style.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331299264125737266" /></a><br />Arrive our stop, walk a tunnel, up 2 stair flights, and into street. Turn right and after 5 steps notice how clean it is—no litter whatsoever—every 30ish yards there is a big 'no smoking sign' painted on the sidewalk. The weather is near freezing, or maybe I'm just a pansy... compared to Bali the place felt like the North Pole and damn the wind chill!<br /><br />We traverse the area for half an hour trying to realize our location. We finally ask directions and discover we've spent the entire time going the wrong way—turns out the hostel was just a block away from the subway exit... we turned right instead of left... beautiful.<br /><br />Now sun is down and we're at the hostel. We remove our shoes in the front lobby, put on provided slippers, and check in. Go to our rooms and WOW the place is silent! and weird... In New Zealand and Oz, hostels are proper dorms: just big rooms with bunk beds, but the bunks here are totally private—imagine a cabinet for sleeping in—long, woodgrain, rectangular-enclosed cube-pod; inside is a bed with 4-feet of head room; entrance is a thick curtain at the foot of the bed—big cabinets. I stash my backpack in a locker, take a shower, climb in my bunk stark naked, and drift into the most wonderful sleep.<br /><br />Then I startle awake to a stranger in my cabinet, on my bed...it's a dude what the fuck! I flip on the light and staring at me square in the face comically blank “Todd! what are you doing in JAPAN MAN! NO WAY! NO WAY! Bro I'm naked get out of here” I throw on some clothes and hop down. Old high school pals Todd Smith and Matt Flischer have surprised us in Japan! I'm dreary, high on adrenaline, flattered, and speechless, literally unable to speak beyond loud mumble—we'd been away from old chums for so long and it takes a minute to realize I'm not dreaming. Todd says he saw Bradon returning from the shower, and Brad's face went through 5 different expression in 5 seconds...it's a celebration bitches! <br /><br />Snag our duty-free bottles then scurry upstairs to the communal room and over sloppy vodka pulls we catch up on Todd's film career and Matt's teaching gig, and then Kelly, our outstanding friend met back in New Zealand, who's on a similar round-the-world trip running marathons on every continent, struts in and more big hugs abound as the scene grows blurry in the best of ways.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQ9vxrjBcw6fT9vUrKwDtCc43EV633P1qEnBl19gHXnqyROMNQhfGtb8U9Dc_VNkKEnlnRXgzDCalmwVVXEPkWSnwEVMuJ_JyTwGgXhE8yKV9IP259UA2b7xerGtxcYLzZdDNIbxFRj9p/s1600-h/P1030286.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQ9vxrjBcw6fT9vUrKwDtCc43EV633P1qEnBl19gHXnqyROMNQhfGtb8U9Dc_VNkKEnlnRXgzDCalmwVVXEPkWSnwEVMuJ_JyTwGgXhE8yKV9IP259UA2b7xerGtxcYLzZdDNIbxFRj9p/s400/P1030286.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331305030271481890" /></a><br />We found a Japanese - American translation book... hilarious<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1N5ytJ7Icf246M_UbYL9JU-z3trrSspFGFHsj9Xv9MvmOnr6f705GxtVKGwi2_NhLo1kBl9rVgaU1Vm4rA8iomoJ1AgsTvzxcJgbjF1CuE1bc48pOYXd-YxZEWzoTcVzVMcVvwJ4Ldwj/s1600-h/sex+talk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1N5ytJ7Icf246M_UbYL9JU-z3trrSspFGFHsj9Xv9MvmOnr6f705GxtVKGwi2_NhLo1kBl9rVgaU1Vm4rA8iomoJ1AgsTvzxcJgbjF1CuE1bc48pOYXd-YxZEWzoTcVzVMcVvwJ4Ldwj/s400/sex+talk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331296677752627138" /></a><br />The 5 of us set out for pub-laughs. The 3 of em already know the trains inside and out, so they lead to Shinjuku, 1 of the bar districts. We get some beer at a sidewalk vending machine and trot alive from the layers of reunion, the buildings themselves alive with soundtrack'd video-billboards, everything so techno— bulb'd signs flash as street corners scream neon and people walk hurridly in front of shops with neon indoors and others with faint indoors and others even mysterious with doors mask'd opaque, all inviting and electric—I feel exactly like Harrison Ford in Bladerunner but exuberant and the landscape's clean—trains plow bridges between skyscrapers overhead, but no sound over jamming streets of incessant action!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDUUA9W93TbYvNV6S9YCYq6jYQhyI-Xvt99gxOj5YLUYvhibWwqrb-aiKXR3fmTlCGHonnN7iLZabI23yYFDWuEDd1WQxRc1V3jFC9I9dmuUY8QvbITRz05yb1HJC4wiRgKnic9zF7_Zn/s1600-h/beer+vending.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDUUA9W93TbYvNV6S9YCYq6jYQhyI-Xvt99gxOj5YLUYvhibWwqrb-aiKXR3fmTlCGHonnN7iLZabI23yYFDWuEDd1WQxRc1V3jFC9I9dmuUY8QvbITRz05yb1HJC4wiRgKnic9zF7_Zn/s400/beer+vending.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331296676612969954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLmo8UTeMS4SsUeRoWo4_3ctIhyR4Lkl8sFIoOvHKvU8CtFDsjgaO9mlsYoiesLxEi98mSxpi9WtVWkXwZrGBBcUmEe66b7GnV_BXxfAf6JW8_Eg0jMybn2wGhLMU3cM4biRmdAvdKLgt/s1600-h/shinjuku.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLmo8UTeMS4SsUeRoWo4_3ctIhyR4Lkl8sFIoOvHKvU8CtFDsjgaO9mlsYoiesLxEi98mSxpi9WtVWkXwZrGBBcUmEe66b7GnV_BXxfAf6JW8_Eg0jMybn2wGhLMU3cM4biRmdAvdKLgt/s400/shinjuku.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331296670545945394" /></a><br />Nigerian promo-men hype the girls in their bar and their girlie-bars and skin shows; they hype relentless and over-the-top stating how the most beautiful are in their club, and their street fronts blink pink kanji (Japanese letter). but our group is so absorbed in each other and the moment and JAPAN! that we march past 'til a lonely door catches our eye, 'Rock and Roll Bar', so we shift down 3 stair flights into a dim basement pub hearing the American-soul-song of Stevie Ray Vaughn. We find a table in the back and plunge into rounds of pints amidst conversation that breaks only for short moments of stunned awe--the 5 of us are together in Japan... plans evolve.Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-2215044097680226402008-12-27T06:28:00.000-08:002009-05-09T07:02:13.925-07:00[Days 95 - 96] Our Christmas StoryBali around Christmas: E-V-E-R-Y S-I-N-G-L-E shop plays Christmas carols, but not traditional renditions, they play Asian techno remixes, which are mostly too fast, very loud, and horrible. Most vendors also where Santa hats, despite the fact they're Hindu and the weather is hotter than Jessica Alba's ass. __<br /><OBJECT type=application/x-shockwave-flash height=300 width=400 data=http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377 classid=clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000><br /> <embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c2c766a16e&photo_id=3440904457" height="300" width="400"></embed></OBJECT>Christmas was around the corner and things were a bit lonely. Bradon was in an internet cafe and randomly met these 2 girls from Carlsbad (30 yrs old). They said they had a friend living in some crazy villa in the hills near Kuta (the club district), and they planned to spend Christmas day there. They invited us to join, which beat the hell out of our original plan to get plastered on the beach. <br /><br />Christmas Eve. We pull into a cheap Kuta hotel, get settled, and chill. Next morning I rise early. The sun is out so I go read poolside. A Swedish girl finds a nearby lounge chair. We start talking, she's nice, and remarks her homesickness. I invite her and her friend to tag along. Anyways, at noon, Brado, me, the Swedes, and the Americans get into a van-taxi and high-tail it to the hills. We arrive this villa—good gawd! The place is straight outta MTV Cribs. Massive, on a mountain that overlooks the entire coastline. We walk in and 2 happy servants inquire what we like to drink. Then the friend arrives (supremely kind woman) and gives a tour. Turns out she's an interior designer... you can't imagine how cool the 'massage room' looked. Much of the house is elegantly decorated with festive things, for example, in the small hut that hovered above the infinity pool, there was a baby Christmas tree. <A onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsRnJDS1Yv7n1IP7CdR9T7kZ33NKyjW0UCt3DJXyPF9O4LIKFewhoFuoWjiR6GYU40Z086k7Ne8jHGUTMOu0gOkTl7bxWDiv_31puCS44KN7FnS6VIVWzB3jmRLqZfGyeHBcaW0cZ6Thk/s1600-h/pool.jpg"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329380704242465970 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsRnJDS1Yv7n1IP7CdR9T7kZ33NKyjW0UCt3DJXyPF9O4LIKFewhoFuoWjiR6GYU40Z086k7Ne8jHGUTMOu0gOkTl7bxWDiv_31puCS44KN7FnS6VIVWzB3jmRLqZfGyeHBcaW0cZ6Thk/s400/pool.jpg" border=0></A> Our party was 9 all together—our group of 6, the couple who lives there, and their wonderful friend who is living in Southern Japan. The girls wore angel costumes while the men (brad, me, and the man of the house, who was a 50-yr-old rockstar of finance) wore santa hats. Everyone gets acquainted over cocktails around the pool. 1 of the house dogs smokes cigarettes: when someone exhales smoke, it runs over and bites the air. Then we all sit down for a gourmet Balinese brunch. Then we had a 'White Elephant' gift exchange, which is where everyone put a present into a pile, then take turns unwrapping. If you dont like a gift you can trade it with someone. Most were gag gifts... <A onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4SIVFRVw7cj1ExlShb8yRoNLzVWwtajbTq9o8U77YRUSoBFE2AJ4z8DNPJQ4_bQDu-L1LPBBHSubDwiGzEhESxBHdMj5XU7bJh789GI1PZifMQ9fbjSO7sBJ35y1bv6PgIyQZCb94SYu/s1600-h/fam+shot.jpg"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329380697623291314 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4SIVFRVw7cj1ExlShb8yRoNLzVWwtajbTq9o8U77YRUSoBFE2AJ4z8DNPJQ4_bQDu-L1LPBBHSubDwiGzEhESxBHdMj5XU7bJh789GI1PZifMQ9fbjSO7sBJ35y1bv6PgIyQZCb94SYu/s400/fam+shot.jpg" border=0></A> <A onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtG2BJNKgnWN4hRnKUi3CeWp3Vw9kvAMwyB_X5LYST8BLgMc6KHNGTAkv-VyiYxsLgNJwjsV7mIRgi_vQ2O5c-KmNt6N3vBI6EZae5PvO_y8sPm5_NxWNl0QYTAZgA7lQKO2HKju9jYwJV/s1600-h/grtub.jpg"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329383578701844402 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtG2BJNKgnWN4hRnKUi3CeWp3Vw9kvAMwyB_X5LYST8BLgMc6KHNGTAkv-VyiYxsLgNJwjsV7mIRgi_vQ2O5c-KmNt6N3vBI6EZae5PvO_y8sPm5_NxWNl0QYTAZgA7lQKO2HKju9jYwJV/s400/grtub.jpg" border=0></A> You know how in Mexico, there are countless stalls selling exactly the same thing? And it's usually something weird and worthless? It's the same in Bali. During that time, 1 such item was a wooden-cock & balls-bottle opener—penis sizes ranging from index finger to forearm. Naturally, this stupid thing was my White-Elephant gift. I went for the medium-size black one. I just so happened that 1 of the Carlsbad girls bought the same thing. After both were opened, the girls used them for a sword fight... cockfighting angels on Christmas... haha what the hell. <A onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81o396c7ikakA_B_QoEPakKduTVJH5nOxp9bM3k5GPXvNrAPzZE7w-ikhyGZA3EeXWYkgqOlGVBRtzsKCqBf91SYL67XGiSqlqpauAymsXpiFr2Sd4dlS3MBadj2DJIrU5WFRGNhV2pYe/s1600-h/cockfight.jpg"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329380692961480418 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81o396c7ikakA_B_QoEPakKduTVJH5nOxp9bM3k5GPXvNrAPzZE7w-ikhyGZA3EeXWYkgqOlGVBRtzsKCqBf91SYL67XGiSqlqpauAymsXpiFr2Sd4dlS3MBadj2DJIrU5WFRGNhV2pYe/s400/cockfight.jpg" border=0></A> We finish off the afternoon swimming, drinking, eating, and definitely being merry. After sunset, the Swedes and us go to a nightclub and rage the night away. <A onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni1V8oSFVcq2P4NthyphenhyphenQiY7_0XMaN_tu_SjxvFKDtOMpOLSTjoS9UMGWVbmubN8ypQwIoujPgfQjiPUw0c9UnJrSEN86uY7lSUpEf64K1jRX3SJVGYPa3Zb2DI924LJDWuLIbblBLvsJa3/s1600-h/club.jpg"><IMG id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329380690142768066 style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni1V8oSFVcq2P4NthyphenhyphenQiY7_0XMaN_tu_SjxvFKDtOMpOLSTjoS9UMGWVbmubN8ypQwIoujPgfQjiPUw0c9UnJrSEN86uY7lSUpEf64K1jRX3SJVGYPa3Zb2DI924LJDWuLIbblBLvsJa3/s400/club.jpg" border=0></A> We left Bali the next afternoon... Ratings & Reactions Bali [1-10:Terrible-Terrific] Language Barrier: most can speak smiling-shattered english 7 Locals: 10 Women: 7 Food: 7 Nightlife: 7 Top 3 highlights: 1)Ubud 2)Uluwatuu surf 3)Bungeejumping in a nightclub<br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-ca6e39c7be592592 height=266 width=320 contentId="ca6e39c7be592592"></OBJECT><br />Grandma Gettıng LOW LOW LOW at the Club on Xmas night!!!Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-64576370155254454342008-12-24T05:56:00.000-08:002009-04-27T07:31:48.839-07:00[Days 88 - 94] Meditation, monkeys, and theatrics10am after the sunrise hike we visit the Lake Temple—straight outta Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, the lake is pristine harmony, a holy silent emanance. We stand loose at the western shore, in the main temple enjoying everything, then we trace the shoreline and find a large shrine slumbering this small island several yards offshore, separated, inaccessible. Stand loose gazing at it as well, pondering things that such a sight will spark, then we traverse the onshore compound getting more impressed at every step, still taken back by the lake's majesty. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0j_e34S1O3IxBDpHvoqH4cvlMzCAwaeaiv4tmO3A6BKLg_ZDQ73xOB4Xn-33d7fb3gBHdEdSZQro1fLCmO_UBNBtR80E9W9tiGNQfU8tA2eSwvbQaSRLvWHp2-bItf7XJ9UKa2-Evc4y/s1600-h/shrine+and+lake"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0j_e34S1O3IxBDpHvoqH4cvlMzCAwaeaiv4tmO3A6BKLg_ZDQ73xOB4Xn-33d7fb3gBHdEdSZQro1fLCmO_UBNBtR80E9W9tiGNQfU8tA2eSwvbQaSRLvWHp2-bItf7XJ9UKa2-Evc4y/s400/shrine+and+lake" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327032398629621666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJw4UpfytaG0KW9aPiZ7yINEIqxuNJwvo-TC40ZV9tEMddJajpzKAsPXGUPiixFTUENoX_DMCkFh3bvVhW-ISKLq1v3KCPe4S4m1hATe-oG-1BtK7WjWg-NxhP_iDeTFZ94HXaDzWBPXzL/s1600-h/shrine"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJw4UpfytaG0KW9aPiZ7yINEIqxuNJwvo-TC40ZV9tEMddJajpzKAsPXGUPiixFTUENoX_DMCkFh3bvVhW-ISKLq1v3KCPe4S4m1hATe-oG-1BtK7WjWg-NxhP_iDeTFZ94HXaDzWBPXzL/s400/shrine" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327032397078698258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfykOz8-Dn2lKpBQN1T6APpapcAlOMwj9RyGBzgIB1fSPdbmS7P7Mu-jqTb4CxTG2DI7hytmEfWWz-MV6d4evtsa4XJQZsCN8Zhc9ZmHGqC0Ksd9pWey42ZnvC23_TAHrgb0_Jx0HSgM5U/s1600-h/temple"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfykOz8-Dn2lKpBQN1T6APpapcAlOMwj9RyGBzgIB1fSPdbmS7P7Mu-jqTb4CxTG2DI7hytmEfWWz-MV6d4evtsa4XJQZsCN8Zhc9ZmHGqC0Ksd9pWey42ZnvC23_TAHrgb0_Jx0HSgM5U/s400/temple" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325649945097309202" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIY0iYIFpp2DHBjhs_TrgGgRn7U0lovm2fQB4eOMwEhvTndAgHyVzcdbP-HtEmSmpjSsKuJ-lhwKPAWp7O69c0WiVQnkRx9DRpPqrQWZ6sZPYZheZWUFLhGzjeXISvBEwnSxC4neUnFAoe/s1600-h/inland+between+branches"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIY0iYIFpp2DHBjhs_TrgGgRn7U0lovm2fQB4eOMwEhvTndAgHyVzcdbP-HtEmSmpjSsKuJ-lhwKPAWp7O69c0WiVQnkRx9DRpPqrQWZ6sZPYZheZWUFLhGzjeXISvBEwnSxC4neUnFAoe/s400/inland+between+branches" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325649019970804754" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5lxwHoPevJ9DJ3Krq4UkCYWD0d_apvqf8G7uIZucx7lt19iiFOe3lRIWetMFx0qPiGZEn2yi1w9cCJe4LrZN8yJ-lQYWvbMIfO8XnJdqPF6HS-2Tk1V2MAsx9wJ-cV0S6t2HI3pJswiL/s1600-h/lion"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5lxwHoPevJ9DJ3Krq4UkCYWD0d_apvqf8G7uIZucx7lt19iiFOe3lRIWetMFx0qPiGZEn2yi1w9cCJe4LrZN8yJ-lQYWvbMIfO8XnJdqPF6HS-2Tk1V2MAsx9wJ-cV0S6t2HI3pJswiL/s400/lion" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325649018437542082" border="0"></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> <br />Exit holyground and climb in the SUV backseat—surfboard's resting in trunk, nose jets out over headrests so I duck as I enter. We whiz down the mountain through local towns and villages, and I bemuse myself waving at the locals, all of whom (literally every single one) shines a smile or waves. We pass deep valleys of rice paddy, women carrying things on their heads, and the landscape is unnaturally green, literally electric, so bright, I can almost hear the plants shouting “GOOD DAY! YES FRIEND, I TOO AM ALIVE AND WELL!”<br /></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFMBFJps0AuR7DVTPuy20top5mbJr1Q70FIoXL5YUXAYIjMWTG1_0B5nd2NYns-uconq8q0wmhaHzeS4eSauTXNw5PomGyPzUUwqiwPiRhfiiPHM_2r-b_FGugC2d06aSb1JKER6lXOkc/s1600-h/happy+motbiker"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAFMBFJps0AuR7DVTPuy20top5mbJr1Q70FIoXL5YUXAYIjMWTG1_0B5nd2NYns-uconq8q0wmhaHzeS4eSauTXNw5PomGyPzUUwqiwPiRhfiiPHM_2r-b_FGugC2d06aSb1JKER6lXOkc/s400/happy+motbiker" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652570643037170" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZNL6wMv4WNlz0eMyWcGBFGXQp8GkP_sBsQkn-ObPTOjeDinecER-xQ-YVLbBoh-6H9Fpk-t0k4lz-RzqCFhxeWQ9tX4cao5RtV5COl9EnKJUahqruC-lRLVUMJlKcQEgQKE5sw3gllgV/s1600-h/me+valley"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZNL6wMv4WNlz0eMyWcGBFGXQp8GkP_sBsQkn-ObPTOjeDinecER-xQ-YVLbBoh-6H9Fpk-t0k4lz-RzqCFhxeWQ9tX4cao5RtV5COl9EnKJUahqruC-lRLVUMJlKcQEgQKE5sw3gllgV/s400/me+valley" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652570490330642" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME5eWRfhy2yBVJCfEeVuyQ9nCcSsdD97pb-tXN4V7CuHWu1Cc9997WVvb6vXVd-aYBzeDyJhBKU0_p5rJuFTp3yjxl8azLRGMsivs3U2rz3pabsIHh8L60BDISX5_iH_sFE3Lk-ATanwf/s1600-h/rice+valley"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiME5eWRfhy2yBVJCfEeVuyQ9nCcSsdD97pb-tXN4V7CuHWu1Cc9997WVvb6vXVd-aYBzeDyJhBKU0_p5rJuFTp3yjxl8azLRGMsivs3U2rz3pabsIHh8L60BDISX5_iH_sFE3Lk-ATanwf/s400/rice+valley" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652918353946258" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixt4CoGAXQqk6Z_AluqFM7ZDplZumU4EL2Xnsxkryaa9ZFEeLXYeYC8OPB-FVX6xHfM1yStJ7eYES_gVZPhWCsR0V5FF-rF1QchDXnNQFrQ8JBPxi87z-cux_FZmQxYhF8FMjzIcq6h7TG/s1600-h/women+head+good"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixt4CoGAXQqk6Z_AluqFM7ZDplZumU4EL2Xnsxkryaa9ZFEeLXYeYC8OPB-FVX6xHfM1yStJ7eYES_gVZPhWCsR0V5FF-rF1QchDXnNQFrQ8JBPxi87z-cux_FZmQxYhF8FMjzIcq6h7TG/s400/women+head+good" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652916998150370" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUW0vV6PXpOhJAKOvIK4MSoCjgFBI4VxSTa9LxZ9hO4hDHBcV79nGK6XCaBdL0wCQf_nVrt2dGYwGfz3tPhkZvCgXk1riCFwkGgEyur-YJTQK6wJpPHAi6ifZNO43UErvkIiGyPsezIAK/s1600-h/kids"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUW0vV6PXpOhJAKOvIK4MSoCjgFBI4VxSTa9LxZ9hO4hDHBcV79nGK6XCaBdL0wCQf_nVrt2dGYwGfz3tPhkZvCgXk1riCFwkGgEyur-YJTQK6wJpPHAi6ifZNO43UErvkIiGyPsezIAK/s400/kids" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652565443937570" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnn_EprYtyKQ5XmncI8pcwiakVoNOWcY0nQRn8xsSWXXx2RlbUk88S9tEjXoQUjuQ9qDxr6TlPwioTqa-k8n12Fd4sUiI5eMeuheu6Z92B099pclpLGR3WgdyEAF973BSkcKBl6ZpEfdwK/s1600-h/women+thing+head"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnn_EprYtyKQ5XmncI8pcwiakVoNOWcY0nQRn8xsSWXXx2RlbUk88S9tEjXoQUjuQ9qDxr6TlPwioTqa-k8n12Fd4sUiI5eMeuheu6Z92B099pclpLGR3WgdyEAF973BSkcKBl6ZpEfdwK/s400/women+thing+head" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325652560286709202" border="0"></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After 2 hours we arrive in Ubud (Bali's art capital). </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">*sidenote: Bali's economy is almost totally based in tourism and export. Consequently, districts and even whole towns devote to producing a specific good—in the hills there is a 'jewlery town', where the bulk of jewlery is molded, finished, etc. There is a furniture district, where 5 blocks of shops make bar stools, and the next few blocks focus on tables. Near Kuta, there's a big stretch of masonry (2 miles long?), where various totems, fountains, and statues are carved. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ubud is apparently where the art gets done, 90% of shops sell paintings, widdled figurines, and the like. Many locals are western artists who decided to settle down, as well as old Dutchies (Bali was once a Dutch province), and laid back Balinese. We check into our hotel—quaint clean place in the town's heart, across from a massive soccer field, adjacent to an elementary school—during every morning shower I hear kids cheering, laughing, and being young. <br /><br />An old friend recommended an incredible yoga studio—my health isn't up to par on account of Australia's liver bashing, and the wild nights of Kuta, so I say “what the hey” lets get healthy. I rent a motorbike ($3 per 24hrs) and scoot over. It's called 'Yoga Barn'. I walk around the place...</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kb_IpOMMbu_cn6E1ji-NEzo-dEE7WmtXdyLCXBP4aRb7hM-AnX9wPV1S2G2kglpFNV4LnQS62aG1zSME9MBgvUXc6iqNtV8lbOmcOAhjFlX15JNXe2lppRc0MYOcNS1MKKuEDQ1r4xXM/s1600-h/yoga+entrance"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kb_IpOMMbu_cn6E1ji-NEzo-dEE7WmtXdyLCXBP4aRb7hM-AnX9wPV1S2G2kglpFNV4LnQS62aG1zSME9MBgvUXc6iqNtV8lbOmcOAhjFlX15JNXe2lppRc0MYOcNS1MKKuEDQ1r4xXM/s400/yoga+entrance" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656964661812466" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7CAcQf6YW1AqgUDZ8e2-1YefhY09IMXyesT6Af-pZori7jAn5PvsS0wb0gjA6-F5iXmP568tZ0SGh12km8-sy3wpeApVBKCAier8eZhXEEeWU2JfxhdJhkDdgyalE-tycj15Oa7YgEoP/s1600-h/path"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7CAcQf6YW1AqgUDZ8e2-1YefhY09IMXyesT6Af-pZori7jAn5PvsS0wb0gjA6-F5iXmP568tZ0SGh12km8-sy3wpeApVBKCAier8eZhXEEeWU2JfxhdJhkDdgyalE-tycj15Oa7YgEoP/s400/path" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656962717177026" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfMPeetzMP9_dfsswl0zutxg9X85oYlWoY-t6vjoN89pbR1wVZ2mApmrvifaNHw1IvyGoy9H02sFYBGOT2m5qpGrpIE8_vvkswbD_vY2FbfMIslgxobnOU3eiS0RjUBsp9TZ4zNFBTjOW/s1600-h/birds"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfMPeetzMP9_dfsswl0zutxg9X85oYlWoY-t6vjoN89pbR1wVZ2mApmrvifaNHw1IvyGoy9H02sFYBGOT2m5qpGrpIE8_vvkswbD_vY2FbfMIslgxobnOU3eiS0RjUBsp9TZ4zNFBTjOW/s400/birds" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656566109059746" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_APIR8c2czvQQHBXKuBIgzH7YtXfbRb9ARJOfBxiDHevnBoRjJ9AJcFZPJPijH0y7uzRcnWdQkeAi3ATRcIpSW3GfA6zpFoj-gNRWbcvNzhHiAU7zPAUP3S50yUbXWv43Tda0Dz3ymUNF/s1600-h/yoga+back"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_APIR8c2czvQQHBXKuBIgzH7YtXfbRb9ARJOfBxiDHevnBoRjJ9AJcFZPJPijH0y7uzRcnWdQkeAi3ATRcIpSW3GfA6zpFoj-gNRWbcvNzhHiAU7zPAUP3S50yUbXWv43Tda0Dz3ymUNF/s400/yoga+back" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656567857611346" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtN2W06pLEo08zDWi2vPCaZdFTYivp_pkesJ6ECPCP3re2zNC1Lrgdt4NiT0K5lIZSlNoBYQ75vnzVpzcsqelSQIuzgGdQrdhzkvSD20J4Xk44I9tCdv4voTLUPwbpnj2-LVFXHzJiHYP/s1600-h/front+path"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtN2W06pLEo08zDWi2vPCaZdFTYivp_pkesJ6ECPCP3re2zNC1Lrgdt4NiT0K5lIZSlNoBYQ75vnzVpzcsqelSQIuzgGdQrdhzkvSD20J4Xk44I9tCdv4voTLUPwbpnj2-LVFXHzJiHYP/s400/front+path" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656561132954786" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jXMMeDaLzZ_Ajlv6jE2aGok2oSN0QG9Dyn6qIYK8eABZ1liunC55kiXK0NeqwlPiOnOZ-iAuxrfn_8-pB9adn5-AQuOnEQ3a0mkMBysXdeslmssexXC-URyD5B8eAIG12wdyhMj4qSzq/s1600-h/yoga+room+good"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jXMMeDaLzZ_Ajlv6jE2aGok2oSN0QG9Dyn6qIYK8eABZ1liunC55kiXK0NeqwlPiOnOZ-iAuxrfn_8-pB9adn5-AQuOnEQ3a0mkMBysXdeslmssexXC-URyD5B8eAIG12wdyhMj4qSzq/s400/yoga+room+good" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656562101234498" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFe1czMpGzLisDPLHUt0TA8YiLO0b8gHHzdC4kFi9n_I_sUCTU_wte1MLAeu-TqRWLSRc1h1Z_QnG18Y8rlVfrp6xN3Az8WEGntO5pUZnyO0H121iMMDTzmjpDECJEsiMgK6T_2vJbuN8i/s1600-h/yoga+room+view"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFe1czMpGzLisDPLHUt0TA8YiLO0b8gHHzdC4kFi9n_I_sUCTU_wte1MLAeu-TqRWLSRc1h1Z_QnG18Y8rlVfrp6xN3Az8WEGntO5pUZnyO0H121iMMDTzmjpDECJEsiMgK6T_2vJbuN8i/s400/yoga+room+view" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656563582820210" border="0"></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />They offer every sort of class—75 minute breathing, abdominal strengthening, relaxation, Kung Fu?—most Yoga Barn teachers are very experienced and designed their own programs. I buy 12 classes—time to get normal.<br /><br />Ride back to our hotel and a roar is floating over from the school (recess?). I fall into bed and quickly drift off. When I wake, Bradon is lounging playing Tetris on our laptop. We discuss Ubud's activities and map an agenda for the week.<br /><br />Attend a sunrise yoga session—holistic balance through breathing (it was called something in Sanskrit, but so help me God). We do all sorts of new postures, and at end I feel open lungs. Leave and scoot down a few blocks, enjoy breakfast at Lilipad Cafe.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(view from my table)<br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHJ5UXzDjct7q-tASRX9RYcqUeh-zGGyuG3H-q-tzZlOrTsOYTPprWcYhzpqhu32WrOVyZE8Ol55j9ftA3uWEnM4HSLumkPOzWoQx0t5G1lMeHoW0UMpSqE3SNvK-VWvWn9LFu05AZiTT/s1600-h/lilipad"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHJ5UXzDjct7q-tASRX9RYcqUeh-zGGyuG3H-q-tzZlOrTsOYTPprWcYhzpqhu32WrOVyZE8Ol55j9ftA3uWEnM4HSLumkPOzWoQx0t5G1lMeHoW0UMpSqE3SNvK-VWvWn9LFu05AZiTT/s400/lilipad" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325658605735030866" border="0"></a></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Return for another yoga session—jungle yoga, strenuos 75 minute class devoted to total body strengthening. Leave on a cloud scoot round town—pass Monkey Forest Temple—enormous ancient trees reach out over stone walls, walls where innumerable monkeys sit watching passersby, while others crawl skip whatever in the road. Arrive home for another relaxing evening reading doing nothing. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8V6PCnylO4hcY7e-nEUMMEwCWwsKowGLl-7UeYbUz_NLLnOPLx0hUJX8kVk5TXA8rdoIsZyam5e6za5h_M6MXAKIgiYNuMvpElTC-HDKcT7sXL5nR6WpoEpeWEQ_4Xb6MazXBx78LfSF/s1600-h/roadside+monkey"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8V6PCnylO4hcY7e-nEUMMEwCWwsKowGLl-7UeYbUz_NLLnOPLx0hUJX8kVk5TXA8rdoIsZyam5e6za5h_M6MXAKIgiYNuMvpElTC-HDKcT7sXL5nR6WpoEpeWEQ_4Xb6MazXBx78LfSF/s400/roadside+monkey" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327100072850957058" /></a><br /> </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Next day begins with another yoga class. Afterward, I meet up with Brado to check out Monkey Forest Temple—it's totally swarming with primates. We drop 2 bucks on 2 bushels of bananas (called 'sugar bananas', much smaller than those of home, and much sweeter). Walk through the place and shoot these little guys can eat! whole hordes follow you staring at your bushel—some hop your leg shimmy up torso then grab the fruit! We hide the bushels under our shirts, pulling out just a single banana when we see one worth feeding. Then one learns our secret—he shimmies up my leg and starts biting my shirt! AAAAH freak out and he grabs the bushel, and I'm out of bananas. Damn.<br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8I7mNDBtGeTO5qVptQknJL6s175xxtDZU1A-Aw2QWQGCi9LqNNf1P7G89FfXfFtYAx3z2f_RHABg43nFLtKwew261AGLyS9ZNbDPcSOOi9XhGfImOOWrN_beQebYmY3ak54-dtF_0zzb/s1600-h/cuter+monky"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8I7mNDBtGeTO5qVptQknJL6s175xxtDZU1A-Aw2QWQGCi9LqNNf1P7G89FfXfFtYAx3z2f_RHABg43nFLtKwew261AGLyS9ZNbDPcSOOi9XhGfImOOWrN_beQebYmY3ak54-dtF_0zzb/s400/cuter+monky" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325660911160468242" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMWFRW6evemoQftCiSp0MYNDvneIUJ0R-ITyL5zIdpZTIT2HVlLuSIDl0iQZAFKPfgOr3tm9WEbSdXVaycpVohmvbFnVr0GTNvZODy3lWg0nxPHgED7MyL1A5CdWCHIriObhImBKkB-w8/s1600-h/cbd"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMWFRW6evemoQftCiSp0MYNDvneIUJ0R-ITyL5zIdpZTIT2HVlLuSIDl0iQZAFKPfgOr3tm9WEbSdXVaycpVohmvbFnVr0GTNvZODy3lWg0nxPHgED7MyL1A5CdWCHIriObhImBKkB-w8/s400/cbd" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325660904854068738" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz76TX60d6lY68e5GrRXd3qYC6xn06lQNLLDv7I1u_TDAI1CSuJApKo8EWm1TY1ByskgLxdLzcJQC4ERM7gkgvush-K7GL0altACTvkg5mogldoHtqRZ360hyphenhyphenxMD2Yd78Zzi0MYLwDgAYC/s1600-h/statue"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz76TX60d6lY68e5GrRXd3qYC6xn06lQNLLDv7I1u_TDAI1CSuJApKo8EWm1TY1ByskgLxdLzcJQC4ERM7gkgvush-K7GL0altACTvkg5mogldoHtqRZ360hyphenhyphenxMD2Yd78Zzi0MYLwDgAYC/s400/statue" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325660902401402034" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvCsCHkZuu-1geZYGvqjH-GytnKO6Jk883ZYq1hE8Oc9-TcSKtFIeaXncB-sZ1zMX02VbgVn6h6A582-IJORYTBlS1P-V_CZfuwOqczi7WPpqDpDdZix9-tXcIqh4hYq6fVuqqnZH1SOU/s1600-h/perched"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvCsCHkZuu-1geZYGvqjH-GytnKO6Jk883ZYq1hE8Oc9-TcSKtFIeaXncB-sZ1zMX02VbgVn6h6A582-IJORYTBlS1P-V_CZfuwOqczi7WPpqDpDdZix9-tXcIqh4hYq6fVuqqnZH1SOU/s400/perched" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325660899787208498" border="0"></a></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(sorry about the angle in the video)<br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c2a37d7ca9&photo_id=3440673915"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=c2a37d7ca9&photo_id=3440673915" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The janitor back at our hotel told us of a secret road that runs behind the temple's front gate, behind the monolythic statues, and it runs behind the madhouse ending at some remote village—it's just wide enough for a motorbike. <br /><br />We jump on our mopeds and return to the temple entrance, sure enough the road's there, and we vroom through the jungle over a worn cobblestoned path, twisting pass artifacts, broken columns, monkeys staring curious from trees— at road's end there is what appears to be a temple-back-entrance— we see a big gate bordered by two watchful monkey statues. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdsMf_0NeGPsoNJiLl8676iKzaGzuXf3psyx1PRKMp7qhhoHr-jzDx4yLicU9GuueClOQUwVhKO34lrfiBxE0ReLAfyVfWqMgV_HvKjm2lLQPubDq9GKPax0UlAOl1DSQ7_piKdUUdVWtS/s1600-h/back+road"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdsMf_0NeGPsoNJiLl8676iKzaGzuXf3psyx1PRKMp7qhhoHr-jzDx4yLicU9GuueClOQUwVhKO34lrfiBxE0ReLAfyVfWqMgV_HvKjm2lLQPubDq9GKPax0UlAOl1DSQ7_piKdUUdVWtS/s400/back+road" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327029735464268418" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbFaRXjygqOjRm-JmGfzO2XwShDQhVVLRThU2ONkwdTXYdvp7RC9uQyIqjk0oQa0tGFW8Vrngch2NaJXHq6bXUnFgLY_iupPE2PtIJh_AY1BV64DfhsEIOGvcuHxS_UKy9xFbNlb8y9Wt/s1600-h/backroad"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbFaRXjygqOjRm-JmGfzO2XwShDQhVVLRThU2ONkwdTXYdvp7RC9uQyIqjk0oQa0tGFW8Vrngch2NaJXHq6bXUnFgLY_iupPE2PtIJh_AY1BV64DfhsEIOGvcuHxS_UKy9xFbNlb8y9Wt/s400/backroad" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327029735069547522" /></a> Snap a few photos then continue our ride, cruising around town to the back vilages. We come across some procession (reminds me of how movies portray group of midwestrn folk walking to church on a sunday morning), everyone is dressed in religious garb: white cloth cap, white loose-fitting shirt, surong, but we're on such a high from the bikes we just blow pass trying hard to get totally lost, get where tourists rarely make it—we knew we'd made it when we rode 15 'caucasianless' minutes.<br /><br />Yoga Barn for sunset, and when I return home Bradon's glued to the computer—Tetris “hold on high score”—I flop down on my bed. Bradon begins mumbling distress, mumble mumble then “Woah! Dude I can't change the shape! NOOO! WHAT! The keyboard is fading! AAAAAH (cursing)!”—you can imagine the agony of a high score being stolen, the blocks falling incorrectly, helpless, and that's when our laptop broke, forcing us into grimey internet cafes for the following 4 months. Pain-in-the-ass.<br /> <br />The remainder of the week was relaxed—nothing to 'write home about', except for the chuk-chuk dance: <br /><br /><br />Dark evening clouds, everything obsedian. Almost 9 o'clock so we scoot to a specific temple. There we walk beneath old candles, through a stone pillared entrance, through an outdoor corridor of high burning torches, into a candle-lit arena—a crecent of guests sit on the brick floor (a smokey hue), or on stones or folding chairs. We find 2 chairs facing the stage, which isn't a stage, but rather, 45 immense stone steps where a stage should be—they lead to main temple, a huge, elegantly unpainted, mysterious structure, adorned with innumerable curlicues, all chizeled 100 years ago. Between us and the steps, crescent center, is an open area, pintailed by a forlorn bouquet of unlit candles, the holder made of tall weathered rod-iron—a deep bucolic feel.<br /><br />Got some extra time—strain our eyes reading a performance brochure. The story's Romeo-and-Juliet-like, only with trecherous demons, mischevious faiiries, and holy monkey kings... should be interesting.<br /><br />Chanting is heard from a vague location, louder and louder. A procession of Balinese men appear at stair summit, half enters from left, half enters from right—all dark island skin, shirtless, clad in clothe hats and surong. They're shouting and moaning their chant, bouncing with it, creeping toward the center. A shoulder-to-shoulder-line forms facing us at summit, behind which a crowd of performers organizes, chanting all-the-while. <br /><br />The group begins bounce-stepping down, throbbing toward us slowly, concentrating on the chant. They fill the arena center, and form a 5 person deep ellipse around the candles. Bouncing evolves: they hop-shift from foot to foot, then 1 yelps and they chant louder, hop-shift harder. Another yelp and all quickly fall into a cross-legged pose, chanting still now with arms outstretched to left, in unision they reach out then relaxe back, out and back out and back with the chant, high yelp and they switch to the right. This remains constant throughout the 1 hour tradition, during which an elaboratly costumed ensemble used only dance to tell the story.<br /><br />Then the ensemble a scurries off, and a man removes the candles, and the chanters, in the same fashion they entered, move to the base of the stairs forming a shoulder-to-shoulder line, facing us still chanting. Then 2 men walk down the stairs with a large (size of outdoor trash can) bamboo basket. They scurry to arena center and dump the contents into a big mound (5ft diameter)—dead coconut husks. The men ignite the mound and it explodes into bonfire.<br /><br />Suddenly a man drifts into view at the stair summit. He is constumed as a horse: he is wearing a 6-foot long, white-bamboo-contraption that is shaped like a stallion—his torso is sticking out the stallion's spine, he controls the neck and head with bowed arms, while the tailend just rests at the man's back. <br /><br />He is ostensibly sleep walking—his eyes are tight slits, he stumbles drunk-like then stops rigid, total control, leans into another long swirve then stops rigid, again, and again. Then he ruffles the contraption, expressing a shivering horse. He leans into another swrive, this time rushing down the stairs right toward the bonfire and POW he runs right through it! Now I see that his only raiments are clothe shorts, a hat, and an orchid behind hid right ear.. shoeless! The 2 men who lit the fire use push-brooms to gather the now scatterd burning husks: they reform the mound. The horseman stands rigid, swirves, shivers, swrives, then POW blasts right through the new pile kicking fire everywhere. The 2 men rebuild, the horseman floats around, then POW blasts through it again, only this time I notice he's standing right on a burning husk (barefoot), not flinching, not doing anything, then he swirves and swirves again onto more embering husks. Another mound is rebuilt. POW! rebuild POW! rebuild POW! ...<br /><br />Finally, the horseman gets hugged/tackled, forcefully, by 1 of the firebuilders who holds him, and he's still got that expressionless sleep-walk gape. A priest saunters down the temple stairs, stands before him, and sprinkles water on his forehead while reciting something extensive. And it was over.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjJTPz2Ick3PnwyNqCS3kJ9mLxsiiS5TnRKgsBtFjr9Gku0bnBy4eB_5o3ru5YxKI_ulEkdP08WpcJbQ7RvDPlYZG57H2O63goyCpAH2XtCz0oAqYbXxy_siDTxD_wrAnN8u-yp45XfVm/s1600-h/standing+chuc+chuch"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjJTPz2Ick3PnwyNqCS3kJ9mLxsiiS5TnRKgsBtFjr9Gku0bnBy4eB_5o3ru5YxKI_ulEkdP08WpcJbQ7RvDPlYZG57H2O63goyCpAH2XtCz0oAqYbXxy_siDTxD_wrAnN8u-yp45XfVm/s400/standing+chuc+chuch" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327025793399779362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQ_CkFGJysCOtjqLREvlLh3KXpKBuv2wn7usBWGeMHmLmpO9DRwKNnwQ5CbiQte1tkRMZMeUD5C3j_wTjM4Phfd_fk5NBWvmL2MdmIiEUwkTt2boYPiuf80WcbUexIeGQy6v9DKkNB068/s1600-h/sitting+chuk+chuk+good"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQ_CkFGJysCOtjqLREvlLh3KXpKBuv2wn7usBWGeMHmLmpO9DRwKNnwQ5CbiQte1tkRMZMeUD5C3j_wTjM4Phfd_fk5NBWvmL2MdmIiEUwkTt2boYPiuf80WcbUexIeGQy6v9DKkNB068/s400/sitting+chuk+chuk+good" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327025790773620546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV0nxo0y3U4_U84ER3NIymr-UHHb9woeIk5tlaUh_XiITZACOAG5r6GkpSPK0cQTiIqCFfFoTJnEpCIAJCaWtLMRvgeEqF1Mh3rSDPVoVXDh-I32q2sPI9Bwdi10AyrcrTja_x8dkagzy/s1600-h/priest"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV0nxo0y3U4_U84ER3NIymr-UHHb9woeIk5tlaUh_XiITZACOAG5r6GkpSPK0cQTiIqCFfFoTJnEpCIAJCaWtLMRvgeEqF1Mh3rSDPVoVXDh-I32q2sPI9Bwdi10AyrcrTja_x8dkagzy/s400/priest" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327025790982458578" /></a><br />firebuilder and horseman(wearing hat)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdor217xSOx6b8xrQa9hE-GDwV0a8YevSPhdG1-Gs5ixOqXJTGQOdrugoREDkr9qKPLmeEOTJiW-tsRHL_YIMVwBpRZo8Qbv-OzQYZQWmeR1cFrCJ4rHDA9GT2QZhvC0t-Afe01B-WWXv/s1600-h/horseman"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdor217xSOx6b8xrQa9hE-GDwV0a8YevSPhdG1-Gs5ixOqXJTGQOdrugoREDkr9qKPLmeEOTJiW-tsRHL_YIMVwBpRZo8Qbv-OzQYZQWmeR1cFrCJ4rHDA9GT2QZhvC0t-Afe01B-WWXv/s400/horseman" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327025784726458370" /></a><br />tourists getting photos taken with some of the dancers<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgzSwJjHVS5SPwQOrGUvsqhOPZQ69lKztXWIbHA5Jo_TvdNHGLfxF4S-mBdrHLLxm9rExCMAoL3uMHWp7f2vZc-z2HcwSGK-2n_VOH5_GzPEnTurFjIXPTaYtIRS5s1h2KoquM2x9bgvi/s1600-h/performers"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgzSwJjHVS5SPwQOrGUvsqhOPZQ69lKztXWIbHA5Jo_TvdNHGLfxF4S-mBdrHLLxm9rExCMAoL3uMHWp7f2vZc-z2HcwSGK-2n_VOH5_GzPEnTurFjIXPTaYtIRS5s1h2KoquM2x9bgvi/s400/performers" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327025785913343602" /></a><br />coconut husk embers after the show<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcoc7d5Hh1vLRE3jL9NDRBj4ncXJ_9zIBqACOjy90nYsRJCTmTX7bBgd2R_n9-Z413co8MZ1F9LrWUCg5Xig0btQRNLM1JFSMs1MFviCSX1KxfBA5BUXkRBFdjVDhht1wQ-Zkkyvv2d54/s1600-h/embers"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcoc7d5Hh1vLRE3jL9NDRBj4ncXJ_9zIBqACOjy90nYsRJCTmTX7bBgd2R_n9-Z413co8MZ1F9LrWUCg5Xig0btQRNLM1JFSMs1MFviCSX1KxfBA5BUXkRBFdjVDhht1wQ-Zkkyvv2d54/s400/embers" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327026395332377666" /></a><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=af9b2e79d7&photo_id=3443540893"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=af9b2e79d7&photo_id=3443540893" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=5622b66bb2&photo_id=3334282717"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71075" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=5622b66bb2&photo_id=3334282717" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-14970594177103810482008-12-18T03:43:00.000-08:002009-04-27T07:32:16.995-07:00[Days 85 - 87] Sunrise Volcano Hike (Mt. Batur)More Tunes Yall...<br /><br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="110" height="180" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/26121?fairplayer=medium"></iframe><br /><br /><br />Mt. Batur<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=70848" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=d29e87277a&photo_id=3443740179"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=70848"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=70848" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=d29e87277a&photo_id=3443740179" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />Knock, knock... bang, bang... it's 3 am and our guide is pestering us to hurry up and get ready, he's obviously in his element as he does this 4 times a week. We signed up for an overpriced sunrise hike to the top of the lakeside volcano, Mt. Batur, the previous day, and now it was game-time. Arms are a bit sore from yesterdays river rafting, but the legs are ready for war. We pile into the tiny white van and meet the two others who would be doing the hike with us. Xan, Canadian born in China, but who lives and works in New York...??? and John, a quiet skinny Swiss dude with harsh accent.<br /><br />After the standard travel conversation (where are you from? where have you been? what do you do at home? where are you going next? whats your name? etc, etc.) we come to find out we paid $20 more for the hike than them... DAMNIT! But I guess it serves us right, we didn't shop around and just paid for the hike at our hotel, another travel lesson learned.<br /><br />We unload the van at the base of the volcano and are greeted by 2 kids who I would guess are about 17 years old. I was a bit confused and thought maybe they were the guides sons or something. As soon as we start our hike the kids start hitting me with the standard Bali sales pitch. First they ask you where you are from, then they ask what your name is, then they inquire if this is your first time in Bali. They pretty much try to become your friend so when they offer whatever it is they are selling it is much harder to bargain or say no. I learned this strategy very quickly in my first day shopping in Kuta, so I knew something was up and noticed they were wearing backpacks. I asked what was inside and they simply replied “Coca-Cola.”!<br /><br />Puzzled by the reply I asked why they were carrying backpacks of Coca-Cola; one smurked back as he said,”we follow you up mountain and you buy Coke from us when you thirsty at top.”! I had to know how much these kids were charging for these specials cokes; 20,000R was the going rate... under US$2! I spread the word quickly to the rest of the group and asked if they wanted to buy some Coke at the top, but everyone replied that they couldn't buy any because they didn't bring any money. I kindly told the kids not to waste their time following us up the mountain because none of us had any money to give; I guess it's better they found out at the beginning than the end.<br /><br />As they walked away it really started to settle just what these high school students were doing. They greeted us at 4am, meaning they probably got up at 2 or 3, then lugged their backpacks full of school supplies, and Coke, to the volcano. Then they had to act interested in some dumb tourists at a time in the morning that I might not be able to act interested in Pamela Anderson for god sakes! Then, if things went accordingly, they would make the exhausting 2hr hike up the steep volcano wearing torn up shoes. Once at the top, they would sell 1 Coke on a bad day, maybe 3 on an amazing day; therefore racking in anywhere between US$1-$6 (but they had to buy the Cokes, for about 50 cents a piece). After the sale they would make the treck down the hill and walk to school, then start their day just like any American High School student. Quite the reality check huh? It's amazing the lengths some people will go to in order to earn a dollar, we are so lucky to be born where we are, but its so easy to forget sometimes.<br /><br />I ran to catch up with the group after trying to let the kids down as easy as possible and ensued our climb. From what I could tell from the dimly lit flashlights, the terrain started out as your normal woodland/forest with pine-trees and shrubs everywhere. Within a half-hour we started stumbling upon hints of lava rock; a subtle reminder of the vast fury this sleeping giant could unleash at any moment. Soon enough, we were climbing on pure lava rock and a bit of dirt. The faintest slip could end the morning early for any unlucky contestant. After hking another forty minutes, I could see the top of the mountain which only fueled my exhausted legs. The guide was going too slow for my liking so I took the lead of the pack, while Garrett stayed back and helped out Xuan like a true gentleman. <br /><br />All of a sudden I look up and there is another kid with a backpack offering his hand to me for help. I kindly decline as I know what he is selling. He begins walking with me, and at this point I'm in no mood for chatter, all I want is to be at the top of the mountain for sunrise. I shell out my last 20,000R for one of his Cokes. Strangly enough, it was quite comforting to have a piece of corporate America with me in the middle of nowhere; who said advertising doesnt work? <br /><br />The top of the mountain didn't seem to be getting much closer, no matter how much I jogged. My calves screamed in pain with ever step and I could feel blisters forming on both heels, but this only made me want it more! The pain only lasted another 10 minutes, and at last I could see the home stretch.<br /><br />Once at the top I took a few minutes to catch my breathe as I stared into the clouds that I was now eye-level with. Within a few minutes the rest of the crew joined me one by one. Hugs were awarded and we stared in amazement at the gorgeous view we had all worked so hard for. It was now time for a bit of well earned breakfast. On the menu was bread, banana, and mountain cooked eggs! Our tour guide literally buried whole eggs in the mountainside and the heat of the crater hard-boiled them in minutes!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7lk0JovrOfhhnp-J6Lh-sQNmZKOmorFsk-Dt0jtndTTPQGMix9NwnIUGuicjDvQqIi7XFAOPm0jVLeuatBEzS89rNBpG9nw7tflrctZfpno2EFHXMbv1Xy47evhoAPXAlZqWfvd59S7A/s1600-h/P1030039.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7lk0JovrOfhhnp-J6Lh-sQNmZKOmorFsk-Dt0jtndTTPQGMix9NwnIUGuicjDvQqIi7XFAOPm0jVLeuatBEzS89rNBpG9nw7tflrctZfpno2EFHXMbv1Xy47evhoAPXAlZqWfvd59S7A/s320/P1030039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310411765684411858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_Xgc2pbUF5xBUjpyxLYHRX2lvpqsZb3wRhlXYa2yQe_7rAlkTjDjquzxO_jEzqjqf8E4VVeaY53Zf0XkTVQPk9WDyrR1TwJIE8MsvWFfrNtosNS5ZxTmqrUteLpHSeOxXJbvstJbjBrT/s1600-h/P1030021.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_Xgc2pbUF5xBUjpyxLYHRX2lvpqsZb3wRhlXYa2yQe_7rAlkTjDjquzxO_jEzqjqf8E4VVeaY53Zf0XkTVQPk9WDyrR1TwJIE8MsvWFfrNtosNS5ZxTmqrUteLpHSeOxXJbvstJbjBrT/s320/P1030021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310411761886568306" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucYjztKScDUECLzF7sYlni40cwkZVW1NdZyHaLqdjXqAq3uMUBsetmhWdi9DXcQ2aMm7Benti4jpFPJoSUkLuQwLJA_D9jQOm_0OaGx1nwzKQq5eyGj5adblkDw5ZK7VieSXzWdg1bM1d/s1600-h/P1030007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiucYjztKScDUECLzF7sYlni40cwkZVW1NdZyHaLqdjXqAq3uMUBsetmhWdi9DXcQ2aMm7Benti4jpFPJoSUkLuQwLJA_D9jQOm_0OaGx1nwzKQq5eyGj5adblkDw5ZK7VieSXzWdg1bM1d/s320/P1030007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310411755941416594" /></a><br /><br />After some great photo ops we descended the otherside, which seemed like a different planet— it was ashy and lifeless due to an eruption that took place less than a decade ago! Fog rolled in over the dinjy-ash surface and we could hardly see a metre ahead of us at one point. It was quite an eerie feeling, especially with the fog now in the equation! Needless to say we didn't stick around there long.<br /><br />We raced down the mountain in thick dirt, taking exaggerated leaps to get airborn (the trail shoes bought at Adventure-16 saved our ankles!). From the bottom we stared back at our conquered giant— an amazing feeling to say the least. NEXT!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH0WdWlBHkyf8HpozcnCM4xhE-trELY8YC48ems1OphVzZT_Nc_zCiS0B9kLFY25qSaM7_kFI4WFmJjOpa_hv7GyFe6vApdAii118YCW1MqvBSHhudVmRi3rJYC1hdjOXK7NozIpQAc3J/s1600-h/P1030075.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH0WdWlBHkyf8HpozcnCM4xhE-trELY8YC48ems1OphVzZT_Nc_zCiS0B9kLFY25qSaM7_kFI4WFmJjOpa_hv7GyFe6vApdAii118YCW1MqvBSHhudVmRi3rJYC1hdjOXK7NozIpQAc3J/s320/P1030075.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310413774060662674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMai8falVUHWZ69Ho007jZ4nj5srw3aOTuLD_xKenBdDWL2_k0UCkGNP_1-Za5OHe-3JYKTUIIMJVubo5f5WTLAvwZkYK9pSleszZUj_npDh2EGkxXEbJ4-pJKKHH96kaGZnvbcPq5UuCl/s1600-h/P1030071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMai8falVUHWZ69Ho007jZ4nj5srw3aOTuLD_xKenBdDWL2_k0UCkGNP_1-Za5OHe-3JYKTUIIMJVubo5f5WTLAvwZkYK9pSleszZUj_npDh2EGkxXEbJ4-pJKKHH96kaGZnvbcPq5UuCl/s320/P1030071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310413767590827234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanbMaSeuKSipiDVViLh6ns8vgIusVnWZ1jYQsC7D1GpcwtPA-91y2PQ2eNXl1Ra-ayhAM12Lmqg3kPqeBragnx802DA3vgfpCDkyx1mbJ3ACKKSfiRQoC6o5UWmOFmfcZRhcjGe1-zH4g/s1600-h/P1030047.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanbMaSeuKSipiDVViLh6ns8vgIusVnWZ1jYQsC7D1GpcwtPA-91y2PQ2eNXl1Ra-ayhAM12Lmqg3kPqeBragnx802DA3vgfpCDkyx1mbJ3ACKKSfiRQoC6o5UWmOFmfcZRhcjGe1-zH4g/s320/P1030047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310413760661539730" /></a>Younghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16525910099844476632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3981632634583809863.post-23049983319469001032008-12-14T05:05:00.000-08:002009-04-27T07:27:54.221-07:00[Days 78 - 84] Clubs, Bungee Jumps, Monkey SexFIRST SOME FRESHNESS FOR YOUR EARS!!!<br /><iframe name="fairplayer" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" width="220" height="380" src="http://fairtilizer.com/track/23865?fairplayer=large"></iframe><br /><br />So at the moment...<br />I'm at a wooden table in a coffee house in Luaong Prabong, Laos. It's 9:45pm. Jen and Bradon are chilling at some lounge where this cool guy from Seattle is DJing. I'm tuckered out from last night... Convinced I was the pirate captain of our moto-taxi, I yelled "ARRGH" and tried overtaking another moto-taxi as we were driving down the road: I fell and rolled on the street bruising my hip, cutting my arm and head, but I am totally fine today. Happy days! <br /><br />Today we swam in the most incredible waterfalls: jumped-off one and rope-swinged another. Tomorrow we go to Vangvieng for serious playtime with 12 people met along the way. We'll be floating down a river in inner-tubes, and the river is lined with 'float-up' bars with massive rope-swings and water-slides. Promise to be careful :). Finally got our laptop fixed so this little site should be getting love! <br /><br />And the stories continue... BALI<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5E7cZLPUKr5fcTD4cLWwYaKIp0nW7kc1LTKpFWDFI8wgGV9PvFHxnCcSzGxOo-Fi-5soPt4lHSgByhBzz0lNgFzfquCo7A46bREQjAs20keyty7Yu3A4QN65EfCmGUaA13ukkCnXfv3l/s1600-h/kuta+woman"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5E7cZLPUKr5fcTD4cLWwYaKIp0nW7kc1LTKpFWDFI8wgGV9PvFHxnCcSzGxOo-Fi-5soPt4lHSgByhBzz0lNgFzfquCo7A46bREQjAs20keyty7Yu3A4QN65EfCmGUaA13ukkCnXfv3l/s400/kuta+woman" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959273767963138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ezDmrQHIM40Dd23j3cx8e9Dg077Q9dYX-RxQS_0TRWrPrV_nlLV9EPF6KNb5IkBt0z3dFAGcMobrZWs-OHm3DooYMHQVN1Vf6_eDbkhpgRAycCbujI5ghLcBVxN9wOL69p0bBT92njNX/s1600-h/seminyak+character"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ezDmrQHIM40Dd23j3cx8e9Dg077Q9dYX-RxQS_0TRWrPrV_nlLV9EPF6KNb5IkBt0z3dFAGcMobrZWs-OHm3DooYMHQVN1Vf6_eDbkhpgRAycCbujI5ghLcBVxN9wOL69p0bBT92njNX/s400/seminyak+character" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959692134022738" /></a><br />We tore up Kuta. Top club was Sky Garden— 3-stories of boom with massive shutterless windows opening onto a jamming boulavard. Feel the most amazing breeze whoosh in. Once it rained buckets and downpour blew right inside the club, and we danced hours with this group of 5 Aussie birds sprinkles keeping cool. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGCTmoGojwCtOGP0eXqs8-Lpujms3O_zuZAk_mf_idOGB1ykglG2GhgmJ7-ThoK8a0tAAC-G7exH2jUQzsXh-KO9X65ZQcQSkJoTgiCYZ46Q3Ue5I_fkqkAorScpjODRd3_W_BccJktyI/s1600-h/brado+kuta+walk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGCTmoGojwCtOGP0eXqs8-Lpujms3O_zuZAk_mf_idOGB1ykglG2GhgmJ7-ThoK8a0tAAC-G7exH2jUQzsXh-KO9X65ZQcQSkJoTgiCYZ46Q3Ue5I_fkqkAorScpjODRd3_W_BccJktyI/s400/brado+kuta+walk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959266273048626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRii__8O0mhiWyDk6I9CcjLpOjP_Y9m9KKNmCZEMYIZ0HmzJaq7I7PDqndcBJ3pI1YjBQ93O3Al0pRcaXd8IKjUC0uvpC-uWl1BgrVfpwRF4Qiv8rMV7tR5YuG2Dpfk8P0Htlr6ppgCXi/s1600-h/kuta+blvd.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRii__8O0mhiWyDk6I9CcjLpOjP_Y9m9KKNmCZEMYIZ0HmzJaq7I7PDqndcBJ3pI1YjBQ93O3Al0pRcaXd8IKjUC0uvpC-uWl1BgrVfpwRF4Qiv8rMV7tR5YuG2Dpfk8P0Htlr6ppgCXi/s400/kuta+blvd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959695209769154" /></a><br />Go-Go Girls wear the most outlandish outfits and once they pretended to be sexy Jetsons dancing around Bradon for 10 whole minutes— in the laser lights they were an aqua-pink space ship. The six of us danced together for quite some time, taught me a move where I face the girl pretending to be play a video game while she does the robot. <br /><br />Awesome.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETF6LHKjOPTL45ctlb3_qtkP0dgriv1p55snsTu2X2DoBxI5o22YoLLDWhSCaBQlSxCUsmNpWSUZGVXAwxg4sCPWoKIM53uKYTwR47WbkGlJiIbPazEbB-qMK2dgbkfu64Jg2FlA2ido6/s1600-h/merry+go+round.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETF6LHKjOPTL45ctlb3_qtkP0dgriv1p55snsTu2X2DoBxI5o22YoLLDWhSCaBQlSxCUsmNpWSUZGVXAwxg4sCPWoKIM53uKYTwR47WbkGlJiIbPazEbB-qMK2dgbkfu64Jg2FlA2ido6/s400/merry+go+round.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959275346910946" /></a><br />Third night we catch wind that one of our favorite djs, Sasha, is spinning at this big club in Seminyak (the posh area). Awesome. Pre-drinks at Sky Garden then high tail it over. Arrive at 10pm amidst tropical storm— heavy clouds are blocking the heaven, rain's screaming down, palm frawns are flying, streets are littered with leaves and whole branches, signs blowing over! No lightning but you can imagine the electricity! Randomly bump into these cool Saudi cats from the night before, their jackets are pulled up over their heads but Bradon and I just laugh and joke in the downpour.<br /><br />Walk in to a bumping DJ but the place is dead: Sasha doesn't go on 'til 2am. We lounge the bar like the Rat Pack throwing back Manhattans and dollar beers. Later, we peruse the place and come across the craziest thing— a 50ft bungee tower over the pool on the patio. Speachless I wanna run to the desk but the floor out there is tile and rainy so I do this buzzing Charlie Chaplan scurry and barely avoid slips. Waltz in and wow they offer options! 1. regular hop-off, 2. run and fly off, 3. ride a bike off, or 4. ride a moped off, and the storm's worsened! Hoooo doggy! The moped one actually sounds lame so I book the first three. Oh KAY! Elevator up and no kidding the tower is friggin swaying, and I'm 50ft into the black night with torrents pissing all over my head. <br /><br />Now, jumping 400ft from a suspended gondola bare-ass in New Zealand was liberating, fun, and exciting. I'm feeling none of that. Perhaps it's those dollar beers, or perhaps the rounds bought by the Saudis, or mabye, it's the gnarly wind scalding my face, or the raggedy dish-towell wrapped around my ankles, or the crowd of clubbers surrounding the pool below, or even more, perhaps it's that I can see the bottom of that damn pool and can see how shallow it is, at any rate, I'm nervous and jittery and yelling down at everything and nothing trying to whistle out all my angst. Then the bungee guy smirks the countdown 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... and all that energy becomes pure adrenaline and wooshes up the esophogus in a mad crazed laugh of exhileration and HUAH off I plunge. My mind blanks; my eyes water. In a deep exhale my soul flows out and I'm corpseless everything and nothing, smiling oh so effortlessly.<br /><br />The next jump is similar, only by that time Sasha was spinning which only added to the glow. Took a 10ft running start and did a swan dive. Third jump I'm strapped to a chrome bike, which was pointless aside from the initial frontflip, but it's cool to say I've bungee jumped on a bike, I guess. After the third jump, I stand on the landing plank and dive backward into the pool, then just float there underwater twisting and rolling to the muffled untz untz of Sasha.<br /><br />On my way up for the bike bungee!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEz9D17zvZk89ZJG8V11m0bMAaRJpaYQDMhYAc3faeEet5xsdRvbVPdnWtlF4GeaTq0FLXSsBvjFuTPYu21IYJlwi2WtcDZOACPiYj1GqJEfNqJLNomFM39uDz6VIezv7U1MrXPA1ixLf/s1600-h/bike+bungee"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEz9D17zvZk89ZJG8V11m0bMAaRJpaYQDMhYAc3faeEet5xsdRvbVPdnWtlF4GeaTq0FLXSsBvjFuTPYu21IYJlwi2WtcDZOACPiYj1GqJEfNqJLNomFM39uDz6VIezv7U1MrXPA1ixLf/s400/bike+bungee" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308959276667723618" /></a><br />Climb out and stumble into the bar, shoes saturated and squeaky. A Saudi cat puts his arm around me and bellows out “YO MAAN! Dat shits gunna get you sum pussy twonight MAAN! Yeahaha les GO!” buys me a drink and off we slide to the dance floor and sure enough the girls love it; but, I think they were all prostitutes because wow were they friendly. Sasha was amazing and KILLED it: we dance til 5am. <br /> <br />Wake the next day and realize just how dodgy Kuta beach is. Bradon's out riding a fun little wave when he spots a pale-white fish slowly flopping sideways. He accidentally hits it with his board and watches it writhe on the surface. It was obviously dying. Then he sees a dead seagull and decides to paddle in and never surf that beach again. Kuta then became our home-base for the plethora of OTHER famous breaks in the south. There wasn't much swell but man were those waves fun.<br /><br />Hands down our number one break was Uluwatuu a.k.a. Ulu. Even when the rest of the island was flat and all the surf-tourists complained about the let-down, this place was breaking 3-4ft perfect A-frames. To top it off, you have to walk through this lava-rock cave then paddle through teal 75 degree water in an alley of even more lave-rock... the surf could be terrible and still be worth the paddle out because it's all that beautiful. Furthermore, the scrawny local kids, who are at most 10 years old, are practically pros and bust arials, ollies, and shove-its like nothing. The place is incredible. Let the pics do the talking.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi715TmEoglyepv71y8UbUdgdLW4hKvUq8ceEwSVyBRqj-TCXQi6cOBqar38gMhbwUrE_-x-862DaUvQulrYAxTJfMlQDGe-W_cMjmy3urSDnduvGqNcvGUZUbeNWma1DwRSsizxpYop_3G/s1600-h/ulu+cliffside"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi715TmEoglyepv71y8UbUdgdLW4hKvUq8ceEwSVyBRqj-TCXQi6cOBqar38gMhbwUrE_-x-862DaUvQulrYAxTJfMlQDGe-W_cMjmy3urSDnduvGqNcvGUZUbeNWma1DwRSsizxpYop_3G/s400/ulu+cliffside" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308964173858409234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCyFYCzSiDYqPCQQHVI_0jXu76_8ZqyNZSaDpRG8LQDyE66kYPfXMCT4YGHJ5YCnVZdXf2xSqTp0N1Q2uPe8fDlcYcqzK1t40MHpyWlfoJ6MGnJ0TQHBWpj3JndEMwu_jTEqoDsdr5EJ25/s1600-h/ulu+above+cave"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCyFYCzSiDYqPCQQHVI_0jXu76_8ZqyNZSaDpRG8LQDyE66kYPfXMCT4YGHJ5YCnVZdXf2xSqTp0N1Q2uPe8fDlcYcqzK1t40MHpyWlfoJ6MGnJ0TQHBWpj3JndEMwu_jTEqoDsdr5EJ25/s400/ulu+above+cave" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308964170786024098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysCqQgG-W00nfPSAdQ4PMtPQ8pVTQ9X5rbaJ31yQSkYn58hqexozEpblM2cWWYCSjX7i-q0KS1VcKhy4bVaNhgTB6V2jvJGupWrxhLR6NzvPHZuk8vHX4zMgzLkMkm0jBf8WbHl_nlve9/s1600-h/ulu+rock"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysCqQgG-W00nfPSAdQ4PMtPQ8pVTQ9X5rbaJ31yQSkYn58hqexozEpblM2cWWYCSjX7i-q0KS1VcKhy4bVaNhgTB6V2jvJGupWrxhLR6NzvPHZuk8vHX4zMgzLkMkm0jBf8WbHl_nlve9/s400/ulu+rock" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308967301269117170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQQeS50rwNaH0IGBcDailWGhz_MMABeqqkA4AdysNc_w60JpC4IMt8SgPKZG94LK0kan1DrX1zd_ltN5Vcxr8V7rGMEAjzhY-jey-9pvBXpix9CHIw2QOamyNFrVPiaNC_rJbzIZmlJBe/s1600-h/ulu+cave+entrance"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQQeS50rwNaH0IGBcDailWGhz_MMABeqqkA4AdysNc_w60JpC4IMt8SgPKZG94LK0kan1DrX1zd_ltN5Vcxr8V7rGMEAjzhY-jey-9pvBXpix9CHIw2QOamyNFrVPiaNC_rJbzIZmlJBe/s400/ulu+cave+entrance" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308962975150054034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswoysUBJxWCz6RxV3ty9G0rKlmYVAFAqeCKN3mT_Uywco-Rz-It-jhDPmQHcXfwbAKQ4LHTLWK_3K2EPzkCojjh3hzzfHKyw-YH_JoOtnlBtibwLWccXBPVbOQzoCuv6F5B1hUSx6EM0V/s1600-h/Ulu+cave.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswoysUBJxWCz6RxV3ty9G0rKlmYVAFAqeCKN3mT_Uywco-Rz-It-jhDPmQHcXfwbAKQ4LHTLWK_3K2EPzkCojjh3hzzfHKyw-YH_JoOtnlBtibwLWccXBPVbOQzoCuv6F5B1hUSx6EM0V/s400/Ulu+cave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308962136148998530" /></a><br /><br />Brado enjoying the scenery<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvRbXum9iFvO-7Qe9d-wU4CQaFmtkHZnNaS11aK2D7-9RQXYQMKX9xa7UWmJUIZyseQ-f0ALEgAdSCU3H-_-Esu9jdiEZ_zOiYnszXtMhyFmrGBM7SIDO2BGXdcc3KDHt7YWwhLzZGf4O/s1600-h/ulu+surf.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvRbXum9iFvO-7Qe9d-wU4CQaFmtkHZnNaS11aK2D7-9RQXYQMKX9xa7UWmJUIZyseQ-f0ALEgAdSCU3H-_-Esu9jdiEZ_zOiYnszXtMhyFmrGBM7SIDO2BGXdcc3KDHt7YWwhLzZGf4O/s400/ulu+surf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308961207656324770" /></a><br />Ulu gets its name from the nearby temple, which is the second most famous on the island. A massive spiritual place on the tip of a cliff with Bali monkeys running around. For a dollar you get a bag of bananas and they run right up and you toss the fruit and they catch it in their little paws and crawl off into the trees. Aggressive little guys though. You gotta take off your shades and anyything snatchable, the little furballs love swiping everything. A guide takes you through the place carrying a bamboo stick to swat em case they get too 'friendly.'<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiptwhsrKv6pLCpkTNdYROmjt00axkQDH2P-jm3Bz-5q80LBjnJrV4E7MtgtAIo1GItrZdRNNxVPb3eL29HNN0Kzp2o4pqlLR9Vm13HP1eD5wGnzGe6uJCiTadbyhFBGFAjZvhQomE8Mv9/s1600-h/ulu+us"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiptwhsrKv6pLCpkTNdYROmjt00axkQDH2P-jm3Bz-5q80LBjnJrV4E7MtgtAIo1GItrZdRNNxVPb3eL29HNN0Kzp2o4pqlLR9Vm13HP1eD5wGnzGe6uJCiTadbyhFBGFAjZvhQomE8Mv9/s400/ulu+us" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308964176784694466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqmsnnU5o4yPKf2Ysh-lTWVjrWiV3-pPP0Typ8zwZ4RwDGgZ9FZ2cYwGQlFt5FyArwIfJoe3Db5poG1Y1-HcLc80CMPzZ8HIwdHHJrpEtbuSBED5o9Bs5jKVUGKobv62ScL6XFsFR3y_N/s1600-h/ulu+entrance"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqmsnnU5o4yPKf2Ysh-lTWVjrWiV3-pPP0Typ8zwZ4RwDGgZ9FZ2cYwGQlFt5FyArwIfJoe3Db5poG1Y1-HcLc80CMPzZ8HIwdHHJrpEtbuSBED5o9Bs5jKVUGKobv62ScL6XFsFR3y_N/s400/ulu+entrance" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308964178270285170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQTNw7APoQJELxY_LjVaVgtNrknqfhpwxGIrEL1eG4gvDbLTERwCSa4RK40VGSkFWdiHwuYYhn1uRYiw3Bi3HjQt6C4INnayz99Gq_24IlsFT8ED__1kTn6seAHShUeso8VIwDrmbQ-nI/s1600-h/ulu+monkey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQTNw7APoQJELxY_LjVaVgtNrknqfhpwxGIrEL1eG4gvDbLTERwCSa4RK40VGSkFWdiHwuYYhn1uRYiw3Bi3HjQt6C4INnayz99Gq_24IlsFT8ED__1kTn6seAHShUeso8VIwDrmbQ-nI/s400/ulu+monkey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308979602425818962" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb3zJg_JrGyeFXQwBND6g_ijMEjChC1yf_qWOzj8Ab6pXUNkuYWgA4JZvtzcOwZ0A3jx4UolM_Xe4cUlI97j6xdLim1ZS4wWkmm32Og4f8eW_Skfffc9vJc0IQWu0-O9xk91BeYJXZek7/s1600-h/ulu+brado+monkey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb3zJg_JrGyeFXQwBND6g_ijMEjChC1yf_qWOzj8Ab6pXUNkuYWgA4JZvtzcOwZ0A3jx4UolM_Xe4cUlI97j6xdLim1ZS4wWkmm32Og4f8eW_Skfffc9vJc0IQWu0-O9xk91BeYJXZek7/s400/ulu+brado+monkey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308965492422995314" /></a><br />Monks there built swimming pools for the monkeys, and in our exit we get the opportunity to see one full of action. Monkeys climb up bordering trees and splash in just like humans. I run up snapping photos and hear these deep squeeky grunts. Turned around and sure enough a massive male was giving his dipstick to a female. Haha I get a photo and then he screams at me showing huge fangs and runs toward. I yelp and remember not to run away or show fear but this guy is HUGE and so scary. I mean, if a stray dog attacks it's cool, just punt him to the next country. But a monkey? He'll just grab your leg and gnaw off your foot! at least that's what I envisioned. I had no idea what to do. Look back down the hill at Bradon and the guide but they're busting up, not that they think it's funny me getting attacked, but I must have looked ridiculous so frightened of a little furball. Then a small monkey pounces on my shoulder and I turn pale thinking it's a Dim Mak, but he just wants to smell me, they do that. Papa Smurf is still flexing and yelling when ANOTHER small one runs up to the female and has his way, and, well, that ambitious little fella saved my life because El Jeffe then spun around and squeeled loud chasing him clear across the temple, and my life was saved. Phew. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoXvVlPirsMWDSRVwqZUz72SHg9OShJrYO6LKjgMk_h397VBCJLBOhQGEQqBZElWqQXMyhkbX-TZDG-SGVRDzzXh4nmtLNnYU2V1rIxzRlw7BQhyHlEoZfRY7tq2rg9FIu6MYIZlBa9dw/s1600-h/ulu+swimming+pool"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoXvVlPirsMWDSRVwqZUz72SHg9OShJrYO6LKjgMk_h397VBCJLBOhQGEQqBZElWqQXMyhkbX-TZDG-SGVRDzzXh4nmtLNnYU2V1rIxzRlw7BQhyHlEoZfRY7tq2rg9FIu6MYIZlBa9dw/s400/ulu+swimming+pool" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308967299252913378" /></a><br />The photo that almost cost me my life!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-_3R_WdkvTCsrVfMwdPc7BctxzcWQabUDm6nbyPLpOR3YBrShCah9TznPOTYN2VR6GAc7plH70faZpQuelwkXro3jv_2aK8-OTYXpxfGrkPksWY1DDluN_iqKlDTujs0hc8Jgaaj1GFM/s1600-h/ULU+MONEY+SEX"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-_3R_WdkvTCsrVfMwdPc7BctxzcWQabUDm6nbyPLpOR3YBrShCah9TznPOTYN2VR6GAc7plH70faZpQuelwkXro3jv_2aK8-OTYXpxfGrkPksWY1DDluN_iqKlDTujs0hc8Jgaaj1GFM/s400/ULU+MONEY+SEX" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308967303730532754" /></a><br /><br />On the way back to Kuta, Made points out the location of the 2003 bombing: an empty lot where the club once stood and across the street is a big memorial for all the innocent victims. His cheeks relax disdain and his head twists left to right. We thought the bombing was to discourage Westernization but Made enlightenes: Indonesia is primarily Muslim; Bali is the only Hindu island; there is a violent group of Indonesians who envision a Muslim nation... the heinous statement was largely targeted at the Balinese. To think people would want to kill such kindness! Wow is our outlook changing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjfoQ4ZVAhdYkEiDXGZrZYS1vgv1I-NuGyqC7vJ7IC09TLEaFyfQOO3TPVBSFezLKtSjfqSstq2XIF6Sl4cVhYg5GyyRiKiyBDu5jDykd9zcpRvGgdnznTOsxaMwMCzS1PbwjOZVa89bd/s1600-h/CRUISING+RICE+PADDY"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjfoQ4ZVAhdYkEiDXGZrZYS1vgv1I-NuGyqC7vJ7IC09TLEaFyfQOO3TPVBSFezLKtSjfqSstq2XIF6Sl4cVhYg5GyyRiKiyBDu5jDykd9zcpRvGgdnznTOsxaMwMCzS1PbwjOZVa89bd/s400/CRUISING+RICE+PADDY" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308970529087979506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjQzA0FZpGBax_cmYxJ5HThPIJ8atsAtvlhVr0JJN2TybtrdjPzTTTg7cPtxLDx58RpZgjWYZ1X_FlE2Mu6XHT9Kknb2c4h0Fx7QdXvlUq1ScEvlu7PVqXaO537Ar9-syg4QvoS2yyLHw/s1600-h/CRUISING+HOME"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjQzA0FZpGBax_cmYxJ5HThPIJ8atsAtvlhVr0JJN2TybtrdjPzTTTg7cPtxLDx58RpZgjWYZ1X_FlE2Mu6XHT9Kknb2c4h0Fx7QdXvlUq1ScEvlu7PVqXaO537Ar9-syg4QvoS2yyLHw/s400/CRUISING+HOME" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308970481697236114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAXCQUws34akUmdA9wczrKcHeru8euifOcivOI6stqBs8WIOR4iRR-2qGTYDqHeDPLxml_nDZOE1VbVS7tIisEiGyjnEjwLg8QQiAnvoxHzEowhROCX0eDlUvewjzXJXWLXoz2pgmX50O/s1600-h/CRUISING+BY+WOMEN"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrAXCQUws34akUmdA9wczrKcHeru8euifOcivOI6stqBs8WIOR4iRR-2qGTYDqHeDPLxml_nDZOE1VbVS7tIisEiGyjnEjwLg8QQiAnvoxHzEowhROCX0eDlUvewjzXJXWLXoz2pgmX50O/s400/CRUISING+BY+WOMEN" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308970487467853122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYCp1m9dW3aKt5GmiGchlwgyv6gaWiQVuon7p5pigP3gp9AqnFV1fYGfw_HwGC087a5l5CP9PUKzekWH8ngBsamfsOvasYYrZWINdqJLAkiP8jVtA2sPtss7YzKg9QnpneVOe3e_BQvgo/s1600-h/CRUISING+BY+GIRL"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYCp1m9dW3aKt5GmiGchlwgyv6gaWiQVuon7p5pigP3gp9AqnFV1fYGfw_HwGC087a5l5CP9PUKzekWH8ngBsamfsOvasYYrZWINdqJLAkiP8jVtA2sPtss7YzKg9QnpneVOe3e_BQvgo/s400/CRUISING+BY+GIRL" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308970482729752274" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DIcSWBzjCdqLwinc4GQ2HHb5ajdQtm8BfDdRJMKicj8Oe0ZMRYlSNZHE9SOsh8_GIDs_933N-pfYySVRZ_wXZbHOacN510HzyknyRP_IJdbNGG3HvXTxeGgBZq2hlQU43Gf57hunmHO9/s1600-h/cruising"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DIcSWBzjCdqLwinc4GQ2HHb5ajdQtm8BfDdRJMKicj8Oe0ZMRYlSNZHE9SOsh8_GIDs_933N-pfYySVRZ_wXZbHOacN510HzyknyRP_IJdbNGG3HvXTxeGgBZq2hlQU43Gf57hunmHO9/s400/cruising" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308961678745093234" /></a>Minckshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17802276439338525202noreply@blogger.com2