More photos just posted on the folder.
We're only a couple of blocks from the hotel that features in Le Carre's "The Honourable Schoolboy," still his best novel I think. Speaking of good novels, I just finished Rushdie's "Shalimar the Clown," the sort of book that's so deft, symphonic, playful, passionate and rich that as a writer one simply feels like closing it and running up the white flag of surrender. (I have not done so: I am working on three books simultaneously, one of them a novel.) Mind you, Kerry was pointing out that our reading REALLY needs lightening up: "Shalimar" is all about the brutal destruction of "paradise," aka Kashmir; she and Aidan have been reading "First They Killed My Father," (Cambodian genocide) and I am halfway through the brillliant "Child 44" (USSR under Stalin). We should go looking for something by Garrison Keillor.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Doing the Math
The currency here is the kip, trading at 8,500 to the dollar (a sign of the faltering US economy, the dollar has dropped significantly against the kip in recent months, down from 10,000 kip to the dollar). The kip, the dollar, and the Thai baht are used just about equally here.
At dinner last night we were given our bill in kip, dollar, and baht. Having not yet gotten kip, we chose to pay in baht. But our change was given in kip. So there we were, after a beerlao, trying to figure out how to convert between baht and kip. Roughly, if there’s 8,500 kip to the dollar, and 35 baht to the dollar, and we put down 1000 baht for a 463 baht bill, we should get how much in change? And the answer is, trust your server and hope for the best.
At dinner last night we were given our bill in kip, dollar, and baht. Having not yet gotten kip, we chose to pay in baht. But our change was given in kip. So there we were, after a beerlao, trying to figure out how to convert between baht and kip. Roughly, if there’s 8,500 kip to the dollar, and 35 baht to the dollar, and we put down 1000 baht for a 463 baht bill, we should get how much in change? And the answer is, trust your server and hope for the best.
Doing the Math
The currency here is the kip, trading at 8,500 to the dollar (a sign of the faltering US economy, the dollar has dropped significantly against the kip in recent months, down from 10,000 kip to the dollar). The kip, the dollar, and the Thai baht are used just about equally here.
At dinner last night we were given our bill in kip, dollar, and baht. Having not yet gotten kip, we chose to pay in baht. But our change was given in kip. So there we were, after a beerlao, trying to figure out how to convert between baht and kip. Roughly, if there’s 8,500 kip to the dollar, and 35 baht to the dollar, and we put down 1000 baht for a 463 baht bill, we should get how much in change? And the answer is, trust your server and hope for the best.
At dinner last night we were given our bill in kip, dollar, and baht. Having not yet gotten kip, we chose to pay in baht. But our change was given in kip. So there we were, after a beerlao, trying to figure out how to convert between baht and kip. Roughly, if there’s 8,500 kip to the dollar, and 35 baht to the dollar, and we put down 1000 baht for a 463 baht bill, we should get how much in change? And the answer is, trust your server and hope for the best.
Flying to Vientiane
We left Siem Reap yesterday, and flew Lao Airlines to Vientiane, with a brief stop in Pakse to clear immigration. As someone who hates flying, I can tell you that taking an old Russian prop plane into Pakse, which has mountains on one side, water on the other, and weird air currents bouncing the plane around, is not fun. Unfortunately, we didn’t even think about air sick meds for the boys before we flew--it’s a short, daytime flight and they can usually do those. Declan, however, tossed his cookies as we approached the airport. And that’s when we discovered that Lao Airlines airsick bags aren’t particularly well made. Fortunately, just as the seam was splitting, we were able to drop it into the plastic bag I’d been carrying my spare toilet paper in. And the stewardess had a spare seat in the back of the plane, so no one had to sit in the damp for the next leg of the journey.
Excellent Places to Stay in Siem Reap
We spent most of our time in Siem Reap at the Tanei Guesthouse--$15 a night for a very clean quiet bedroom with ensuite bathroom with a hot shower, and a clean pool downstairs. We highly recommend it for a flashpacker stay. But they didn’t have a room for us on our last night (they’d warned us of this when we checked in), so we moved just down the street to the Encore Angkor. This is a more expensive option ($30 a night per room), but ah, the luxury. A proper shower and bathtub (instead of a shower nozzle stuck at random into the tile in the vicinity of the toilet), hot water in the sink, not just the shower, a phone in the room, space to move around, and a clean pool downstairs. The woman who runs it is picky about who stays there (she asked us to tell people she will not tolerate partying guests or those who pick up prostitutes) and she’s got great English and can help arrange just about any touring you want to do.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Waterworld
I have not had time to blog about Angkor Wat, but there are new pictures on the web folder.
We did a day trip today out through the floodplain of the Tonle Sap Lake. In some ways it was like visiting another (very hospitable) planet.
Tonle Sap is a vast freshwater lake even in the dry season (n0w). In the wet, the Mekong's flow actually reverses into it, swelling its volume by a factor of 10, raising its level by 10 meters or so and doubling its surface area. It is alleged to be the richest freshwater fishery in the world. Tens of thousands of Kmer people live around it in stilt villages (or even a few actually floating villages), fishing in the wet season and both fishing and rice farming in the dry. We drove 30km from Siem Reap then took a boat several miles down throuugh the channels to the lake itself, which even now looks like the open sea - too wide to see the other side. Back at the boat dock there was a wedding in progress taking up the whole village main street. Amazing clothes; very very loud, distorted Cambodian rock music.
More later - I just looked at the clock and we are due to go out for dinner and a display of traditional Kmer dance in a minute. Such a hectic life... I may have to have several glasses of "Angkor" to recover.
We did a day trip today out through the floodplain of the Tonle Sap Lake. In some ways it was like visiting another (very hospitable) planet.
Tonle Sap is a vast freshwater lake even in the dry season (n0w). In the wet, the Mekong's flow actually reverses into it, swelling its volume by a factor of 10, raising its level by 10 meters or so and doubling its surface area. It is alleged to be the richest freshwater fishery in the world. Tens of thousands of Kmer people live around it in stilt villages (or even a few actually floating villages), fishing in the wet season and both fishing and rice farming in the dry. We drove 30km from Siem Reap then took a boat several miles down throuugh the channels to the lake itself, which even now looks like the open sea - too wide to see the other side. Back at the boat dock there was a wedding in progress taking up the whole village main street. Amazing clothes; very very loud, distorted Cambodian rock music.
More later - I just looked at the clock and we are due to go out for dinner and a display of traditional Kmer dance in a minute. Such a hectic life... I may have to have several glasses of "Angkor" to recover.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Surreal Dining
I'm lying in a hammock strung between two poles. The poles are part of the supports suspending our dining platform somewhere in the vicinity of where a second floor would be, if the building had one. Instead there are a series of platforms with dining areas at random heights throughout the warehouse like space, all connected by ladders. Waiters bring dishes up and send orders down via rope and pulley systems between the platforms. Richard and the boys are downstairs throwing fish into the crocodile pit. A Cambodian man, on approximately floor 1.5, is singing Elton John covers with his guitar.
Yes, we're in the Dead Fish cafe. Quite possibly the most unusual dining experience I've ever had. But even though I was eating above 25 fat crocodiles, the food was pretty tasty. Their thai green curry was particularly nice, and the greens with garlic yummy.
Yes, we're in the Dead Fish cafe. Quite possibly the most unusual dining experience I've ever had. But even though I was eating above 25 fat crocodiles, the food was pretty tasty. Their thai green curry was particularly nice, and the greens with garlic yummy.
No MSG please
I don't know how to say it, but the expression is written in one of our tourist guides we picked up here. I've taken to showing it at restaurants. While I get puzzled looks--why would anyone want their food bland?--it has resulted in food that isn't totally loaded with MSG.
Cambodian food is definitely much blander than Thai food, and I miss the spice. But the eggplant is great right now.
Cambodian food is definitely much blander than Thai food, and I miss the spice. But the eggplant is great right now.
Family massage
In Siem Reap you can get an hour's massage for only $6, so we decided to award everyone in the family a massage. A first for the boys. We wandered around a bit, and finally picked a place more or less at random. We were sat down in chairs in the lobby, our feet bathed, and then we were escorted upstairs (through the restaurant next door!) to a massage room. The line of women sitting together on the couch outside the door watching television was reminiscent of a different kind of establishment, but...
We all went into a large room with 5 padded mats on the floor, with curtains (open) between them. We were handed towels to cover ourselves after stripping down to our undies, and stretched out on the mats. Since we were family, they didn't draw the curtains. The women fought a bit over the privilege of massaging "boy" (Declan), and he had to put up with their grinning over his unbearable cuteness (he gets this a lot here, and is dealing with it gracefully and politely).
The massages were good, though they don't have the quiet approach that one expects in the west. They chatted amongst each other, and quizzed me out our family and my work. Midway through the massage I found myself giving an English lesson, holding up various parts of my body and saying the names of them.
I will, however, always treasure the memory of all four of us stretched out on the floor together being pummelled and poked.
We all went into a large room with 5 padded mats on the floor, with curtains (open) between them. We were handed towels to cover ourselves after stripping down to our undies, and stretched out on the mats. Since we were family, they didn't draw the curtains. The women fought a bit over the privilege of massaging "boy" (Declan), and he had to put up with their grinning over his unbearable cuteness (he gets this a lot here, and is dealing with it gracefully and politely).
The massages were good, though they don't have the quiet approach that one expects in the west. They chatted amongst each other, and quizzed me out our family and my work. Midway through the massage I found myself giving an English lesson, holding up various parts of my body and saying the names of them.
I will, however, always treasure the memory of all four of us stretched out on the floor together being pummelled and poked.
Biking the temples
On our first day of our temple pass (you can buy a ticket for one, three or seven days, we chose three), we decided to rent bikes. The main ruin complex is only about 10km from Siem Reap, and this seemed like a great way to see the area.
You may ask: just what was I, a protective mom, doing putting my kids onto rickety mountain bikes with disfunctional brakes, unpadded seats, and no bike helmets and sending them out to ride on Cambodian roads? I asked myself that too. But, unlike Seattle, drivers really do watch out for cyclists. They expect them, and there are very clear (unstated) rules, for who has the right of way. In many ways, it felt safer than riding at home where those in cars don't even seem to notice those on bikes.
On the way there, the ride was great. A little longer than expected, but we got to see the country side a bit, and be more a part of it. Very romantic. We then explored several temple areas, taking far more time than we'd planned. We started to head to the next temple, but concluded that our original plan had been much too ambitious, and between R's tourist tummy, and the heat, we needed to get home. We of course decided to go the long way, and by the time we were only half way home, we'd had it. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but keep riding, and so we did. I've been sitting gingerly for two days now.
You may ask: just what was I, a protective mom, doing putting my kids onto rickety mountain bikes with disfunctional brakes, unpadded seats, and no bike helmets and sending them out to ride on Cambodian roads? I asked myself that too. But, unlike Seattle, drivers really do watch out for cyclists. They expect them, and there are very clear (unstated) rules, for who has the right of way. In many ways, it felt safer than riding at home where those in cars don't even seem to notice those on bikes.
On the way there, the ride was great. A little longer than expected, but we got to see the country side a bit, and be more a part of it. Very romantic. We then explored several temple areas, taking far more time than we'd planned. We started to head to the next temple, but concluded that our original plan had been much too ambitious, and between R's tourist tummy, and the heat, we needed to get home. We of course decided to go the long way, and by the time we were only half way home, we'd had it. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but keep riding, and so we did. I've been sitting gingerly for two days now.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Angkor Wat
Angkor Wat is a truly amazing structure. We left at five in the morning to get there by sunrise, although that wasn't really everything it was made out to be. It was cool to approach across the causeway and see the structure of the gate in the predawn light. But once you got inside, it was crowded with tourists and sunrise lasted for about ten minutes and had about... well, if it was a life size panting, the artist used about three mg of paint for the entire thing. It was fairly interesting once you got inside, and because we were doing things backwards, there were no tourists. (You are supposed to go for sunrise and leave immediately for Angkor Thom, and then come back to Angkor Wat.) We got to see some cool reliefs, including the Churning of the Sea of Milk. in this relief, the demons and the humans are pulling on a Naga wrapped around a mountain in the middle of the sea so that they can churn the milk into the elixir of immortality. While this was quite interesting, we couldn't go to the top because of restoration work, and I really wanted to do that (partially because I knew it would freak mom out). After this, we went to Preah Ko (I think), which was really big. It was mostly in ruins, though, and we got stuck behind a tour group. The ruins were really cool, even though mom wouldn't let me climb on anything. Finally, we went to another of the temples, which was really boring because they were restoring it and all you could do was walk around the outside.
Pork with Onion and Garlic
They really meant Garlic. I just had this for lunch and it was equal parts pork, onion, and garlic. Delicious.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Absolutely Naga'd
Our first of three dasys 'doing the Temples' yesterday. We went by bike, rode about 15 miles, were out touristing throughout the middle of a blistering day, and thoroughly exhausted ourselves.The Temples beggar belief. This is not like seeing Chartres or Canterbury - it's like coming into a jungle clearing and discovering the entire city of Rome. Some of the individual temple enclosures are measured in square km, and it's impossible to keep track of the number of separate or interconnected sites.
The face in this pic is one of four giant Buddha of Compassion faces on the south gate of Angkor Thom. We passed Angkor Wat in the distance and plan to see it properly tomorrow (Wednesday).
A Naga, by the way, is a seven-headed Cobra-god who protects the Buddha, Vishnu, or others. We have seen several miles of Nagas.
I have, I think, solved the out-of-order problem in the Web folder, so if you double-click the Slideshow you should get an ordered set of (mostly) captioned photos.
Pasta Carbonara
We've fallen off the local food wagon. We've discovered in Siem Reap that, except for in the fancy, pricier tourist places (and even in many of those), MSG is used liberally in all meals. I'm just coming off my first bout of tourist tummy, and needed bland comfort food that didn't give me a headache. Hence, a totally western meal. Not the best I've ever had, but what I needed at the time. Richard ate the jacket potato with chili con carne, Aidan the steak and guiness pie, and Declan just had a bowl of french fries.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Living it up in Siem Reap
An uneventful trip here - unless you count the fact that I looked out of the plane and realized that the little-cultivated and strangely pocked swaths of countryside between the rice paddies were pocked with bomb craters. I assume that these areas are either too scarred, or more likely too mined, for cultivation - Cambodia has perhaps the worst landmine problem iin the world.
Being so poor, Cambodia is cheap, but significantly less so than we expected. So, mindful of a tight trip budget and our total inability to say "no" to good food, we had set up a Siem Reap reservation on the friendly-but-ultra-cheap end of the spectrum. "Prince Mekong Guest House" duly picked us up at the airport - four people, four bags and four day packs, plus driver, in a tuk-tuk, which is essentially a cart on the back of a moped. (No big deal: on the road to Agra we saw eight, then ten, and finally THIRTEEN people in/on one of these. The record so far for one moped without cart is five riders, or one rider with a big pile of sugar cane and three quite large dead pigs.) Prince Mekong was indeed friendly, but VERY basic and not in a great location. Kerry slave-drove us on a walk around town and we quickly realized that for only a very little more we could do better. Hence one night at the Mekong, and today we have moved to the much nicer Tanei Guest House, which, oh miracle, has a/c and a small POOL!!!
Being so poor, Cambodia is cheap, but significantly less so than we expected. So, mindful of a tight trip budget and our total inability to say "no" to good food, we had set up a Siem Reap reservation on the friendly-but-ultra-cheap end of the spectrum. "Prince Mekong Guest House" duly picked us up at the airport - four people, four bags and four day packs, plus driver, in a tuk-tuk, which is essentially a cart on the back of a moped. (No big deal: on the road to Agra we saw eight, then ten, and finally THIRTEEN people in/on one of these. The record so far for one moped without cart is five riders, or one rider with a big pile of sugar cane and three quite large dead pigs.) Prince Mekong was indeed friendly, but VERY basic and not in a great location. Kerry slave-drove us on a walk around town and we quickly realized that for only a very little more we could do better. Hence one night at the Mekong, and today we have moved to the much nicer Tanei Guest House, which, oh miracle, has a/c and a small POOL!!!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
More Khmer Food, but Not Tarantulas
We made it today to Romdeng, the ethical dining restaurant that we were too late for yesterday. The set menu looked interesting (stir fried squid, beef with morning glory soup, rice, and khmer cake), but we were more intrigued by other dishes on the menu, so ordered ala carte and ate family style.
For only $3.50, we could have tried the crispy fried tarantulas with lime dipping sauce, but the family said no. I really wanted to try them, since I figured this was about the safest, cleanest way to do so. But Declan threatened to toss the spiders into the decorative pool in the garden, and Richard threatened to toss his cookies onto the table. So no tarantulas for me. (I must be honest here: if there had been a way to order just one spider, not a plateful, that would have been sufficient. I can’t imagine liking them, but think that it would certainly be a food I’ll never eat at home.)
So instead, we tried Fish Amok in Banana Leaves, Steamed Mekong Fish with Ginger and Basil, Banana Flower Salad with Grilled Cambodian Bacon, and Battenbang Baby Pork Rib Soup with Slack Trung.
The steamed fish was perhaps the best, a very delicate and light fish with a simple sauce made with ginger and a bit of salty stuff (fish sauce, perhaps, though not that strong). The Fish Amok is the national dish, and is a lovely reddish curry flavored with lots of kaffir lime leaves. Unlike many Thai curries which are served pretty wet (lots of sauce relative to the chunky stuff), this was drier, with each small grape-size chunk of fish coated with, but not swimming in, the tasty sauce.
The pork soup was liked by Aidan and I. Richard found it too porky again, and Declan found it too spicy. I still have no idea what Slack Trung is, but the soup was a bright green, thinnish, slightly greasy porky broth, filled with a sour pureed green veg and a hint of chili.
I’d expected the banana flower salad to be the most unusual of the bunch, but the reality is the flowers (which were finely shredded) didn’t have much flavor themselves. Instead, they provided a crunchy base for a dressing with peanuts, lime and sweet chili sauce. The Cambodian bacon lent a base note to the flavor, but if it hadn’t been there, the whole thing would have been pretty reminiscent of an understated Thai green papaya salad.
Having been abstemious with the drinks (water for all), we awarded ourselves dessert. I loved the mangos with sticky rice, but the rest of the family are not huge coconut fans and were put off by the big poof of shredded fresh coconut on the top. The tropical fruit plate (picked by Declan) was a great opportunity to try some of the fruits we’ve been checking out in the market. We were disappointed by most of them.
Dragon fruit, which looks like an undersea creature with its hot pink color and octopus like shape, is reminiscent of kiwi inside. Pale white flesh evenly speckled with little black seeds. But the flavor is kind of washed out and not very tasty.
Mango and papaya were both there, and the mango at least was tasty. Aidan likes papaya generally, but this was a pretty boring tasting one. The rambutan (which we ate in Thailand) was sweet, but the longan had a petrol like flavor that was pretty off putting. Mind you, the two fruits, peeled, look a lot like a Halloween display of fake eyeballs, especially the longan since you can just see the black center seed through its translucent flesh.
There were two kinds of pears, the familiar Asian one we see in Seattle, and another very small one that was kind of mushy and bland. Sprinkled over the top of everything were some extra large pomegranate seeds.
The real winner on the dessert front, though, was the rice flour and turmeric crepes filled with caramelized bananas and topped with coconut gelato. Seriously yum. Even the coconut haters liked the ice cream. I’ll have to remember turmeric and carmelized flavor mix.
I tried to upload the photos of the food into this post, but it's not working for some reason. I'll come back and add them later.
For only $3.50, we could have tried the crispy fried tarantulas with lime dipping sauce, but the family said no. I really wanted to try them, since I figured this was about the safest, cleanest way to do so. But Declan threatened to toss the spiders into the decorative pool in the garden, and Richard threatened to toss his cookies onto the table. So no tarantulas for me. (I must be honest here: if there had been a way to order just one spider, not a plateful, that would have been sufficient. I can’t imagine liking them, but think that it would certainly be a food I’ll never eat at home.)
So instead, we tried Fish Amok in Banana Leaves, Steamed Mekong Fish with Ginger and Basil, Banana Flower Salad with Grilled Cambodian Bacon, and Battenbang Baby Pork Rib Soup with Slack Trung.
The steamed fish was perhaps the best, a very delicate and light fish with a simple sauce made with ginger and a bit of salty stuff (fish sauce, perhaps, though not that strong). The Fish Amok is the national dish, and is a lovely reddish curry flavored with lots of kaffir lime leaves. Unlike many Thai curries which are served pretty wet (lots of sauce relative to the chunky stuff), this was drier, with each small grape-size chunk of fish coated with, but not swimming in, the tasty sauce.
The pork soup was liked by Aidan and I. Richard found it too porky again, and Declan found it too spicy. I still have no idea what Slack Trung is, but the soup was a bright green, thinnish, slightly greasy porky broth, filled with a sour pureed green veg and a hint of chili.
I’d expected the banana flower salad to be the most unusual of the bunch, but the reality is the flowers (which were finely shredded) didn’t have much flavor themselves. Instead, they provided a crunchy base for a dressing with peanuts, lime and sweet chili sauce. The Cambodian bacon lent a base note to the flavor, but if it hadn’t been there, the whole thing would have been pretty reminiscent of an understated Thai green papaya salad.
Having been abstemious with the drinks (water for all), we awarded ourselves dessert. I loved the mangos with sticky rice, but the rest of the family are not huge coconut fans and were put off by the big poof of shredded fresh coconut on the top. The tropical fruit plate (picked by Declan) was a great opportunity to try some of the fruits we’ve been checking out in the market. We were disappointed by most of them.
Dragon fruit, which looks like an undersea creature with its hot pink color and octopus like shape, is reminiscent of kiwi inside. Pale white flesh evenly speckled with little black seeds. But the flavor is kind of washed out and not very tasty.
Mango and papaya were both there, and the mango at least was tasty. Aidan likes papaya generally, but this was a pretty boring tasting one. The rambutan (which we ate in Thailand) was sweet, but the longan had a petrol like flavor that was pretty off putting. Mind you, the two fruits, peeled, look a lot like a Halloween display of fake eyeballs, especially the longan since you can just see the black center seed through its translucent flesh.
There were two kinds of pears, the familiar Asian one we see in Seattle, and another very small one that was kind of mushy and bland. Sprinkled over the top of everything were some extra large pomegranate seeds.
The real winner on the dessert front, though, was the rice flour and turmeric crepes filled with caramelized bananas and topped with coconut gelato. Seriously yum. Even the coconut haters liked the ice cream. I’ll have to remember turmeric and carmelized flavor mix.
I tried to upload the photos of the food into this post, but it's not working for some reason. I'll come back and add them later.
En route to Siem Reap
Sitting in the brand new and very nice domestic departure lounge at Phnom Penh, a beautifully designed café / waiting area with silks and weaving tools displayed on the walls - waiting for our flight to Siem Reap. We’ve had a great three days in the city, and really wish we had 1-2 more. It has seemed a far easier, more relaxed and more pleasant place to be than we expected. The Cambodians are wonderful – even our pathetic attempts to pronounce “thank you” correctly (or-kun / awk-wan / okk-quon?) have invariably produced delighted nods and smiles, and there always seems to be a joke going about something. The city somehow just crackles with positive energy. At first it was unnerving to have someone say “tuk-tuk Sir?” about every fifteen paces, but this is a place (unlike India) where you can just meet each person’s eye, smile, say “no thanks!” and walk on.
Part of the trouble with travelling in Asia – or rather, writing about it – is that the impressions come too thick and fast to record. Little things like the knock-off “Talking Rain” water that is “Talking Water” (with close-but-not-quite label). Very very big things like the glorious Royal Palace – truly breathtaking buildings containing e.g. a Buddha encrusted with gold, diamonds the size of eggs, and cobwebs. A woman was praying somewhat aerobically at another Buddha, and finished by repeatedly touching the Buddha’s arm and then wiping her hand against her hair. (What exactly did those gestures MEAN? Holiness by association? A plea to cure her husband’s baldness? I have no idea.) Similarly, a street market stuffed full of ordinary, or strange, or downright unintelligible produce. (We identified homemade tofu easily enough, but were the blocks of stuff floating in the bowl next to it chocolate tofu? Probably not – just our only available guess.) The giggling woman and smiling, rather satirical-looking monk who showed us into the smoke-blackened inner sanctum of the stupa that was essentially built around one of the Buddha’s eyebrows..
And so on: I bought a book about the genocide (“First They Killed My Father”) from a street peddler with no hands. First you feel terrible, and think - how do I even give a $5 bill to a person with no hands? But he seemed so delighted just by talking to us and showing us his books that he never stopped smiling, and it was infectious.
Kevin from the hotel took us to the airport. We had a long conversation that I could only follow parts of about the ‘graft’ system, how taxation works or doesn’t, how roads and bridges get built through Japanese and American aid, how taking his son to the hospital for a check-up works, why driving is better in some ways than his old job in the hotel but worse in others.
Part of the trouble with travelling in Asia – or rather, writing about it – is that the impressions come too thick and fast to record. Little things like the knock-off “Talking Rain” water that is “Talking Water” (with close-but-not-quite label). Very very big things like the glorious Royal Palace – truly breathtaking buildings containing e.g. a Buddha encrusted with gold, diamonds the size of eggs, and cobwebs. A woman was praying somewhat aerobically at another Buddha, and finished by repeatedly touching the Buddha’s arm and then wiping her hand against her hair. (What exactly did those gestures MEAN? Holiness by association? A plea to cure her husband’s baldness? I have no idea.) Similarly, a street market stuffed full of ordinary, or strange, or downright unintelligible produce. (We identified homemade tofu easily enough, but were the blocks of stuff floating in the bowl next to it chocolate tofu? Probably not – just our only available guess.) The giggling woman and smiling, rather satirical-looking monk who showed us into the smoke-blackened inner sanctum of the stupa that was essentially built around one of the Buddha’s eyebrows..
And so on: I bought a book about the genocide (“First They Killed My Father”) from a street peddler with no hands. First you feel terrible, and think - how do I even give a $5 bill to a person with no hands? But he seemed so delighted just by talking to us and showing us his books that he never stopped smiling, and it was infectious.
Kevin from the hotel took us to the airport. We had a long conversation that I could only follow parts of about the ‘graft’ system, how taxation works or doesn’t, how roads and bridges get built through Japanese and American aid, how taking his son to the hospital for a check-up works, why driving is better in some ways than his old job in the hotel but worse in others.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Killing Fields
Today we went to the Killing Field near Phnom Penh. We drove out in a taxi, and spent about an hour wandering around the site. Estimates are that 8,000 plus people were killed in this former orchard. Today, you walk around beautiful grassy grounds with trees and butterflies, and try, not successfully, to imagine the horror of the place. Then you look down and realize that the white bits in the paths are bones that were never disinterred for the memorial, and that the multiple depressions in the grass are where they dug up mass graves. You pass by the "magic tree", so called because that's where they hung loudspeakers to drown out the sounds made by the victims.
At the center of the site is a 4-5 story tall stupa which contains the skulls found in the mass graves they exhumed, stacked in layers atop a pile of clothes found in the graves. It's hard to imagine that people could do this to one another.
We have chosen not to go to the Tuol Sleng torture museum. Most of the people who died in this killing field were first tortured here. Apparently the Khmer Rouge documented the deaths, and the museum includes photos of victims as well as the devices used for torture. Richard and I both feel that this is a place we should see, but that it is not a place that the boys are ready to see. I don't know if this is the right choice.
At the center of the site is a 4-5 story tall stupa which contains the skulls found in the mass graves they exhumed, stacked in layers atop a pile of clothes found in the graves. It's hard to imagine that people could do this to one another.
We have chosen not to go to the Tuol Sleng torture museum. Most of the people who died in this killing field were first tortured here. Apparently the Khmer Rouge documented the deaths, and the museum includes photos of victims as well as the devices used for torture. Richard and I both feel that this is a place we should see, but that it is not a place that the boys are ready to see. I don't know if this is the right choice.
Our Taxi Driver's Marriage
We were fortunate to have (the improbably named) Kevin decide he should be our taxi driver to the Killing Field today. We couldn’t leave until 10:30 though, because he was watching his 10 month old son (adorable) while his wife attended English language classes.
We asked him how long he’d been married, and he said 3 years. He told us that he didn’t want to do marriage Cambodian style, where the parents choose, but European style, where he got to choose. He claimed he did the latter, but in fact, his cousin suggested several girls from a town about 60 kilometers from his home village. There was one that he’d seen once before, and so he “chose” that one. His cousin made the advances, and it was agreed that marriage could work. Over the next 4 months, he spent, he said, a lot of money (nearly $400) talking on the phone with his future wife, trying to get to know each other before fully committing to the marriage (otherwise we might have gotten divorced, he said).
Once they were both committed, he had to give several thousand dollars to his wife, so she could plan the wedding. The wedding was very big, with over 1000 guests, and cost nearly $10,000. He quickly said though, that he didn’t bear the full cost. It’s understood at weddings that guests make monetary gifts which cover the costs of food and drink for the event.
I asked if his wife had chosen him, or her parents. He fudged this a little, saying that of course they’d had to agree, but that he and his wife had made their own choice based upon the four months they’d spent talking on the phone.
As an aside, Kevin’s English was remarkably good. He said he only studied it for one year in school, when he was 32 (he’s now 37) but that he practiced a lot. We figured out that he was 5 years old when Pol Pot began his reign here, and 9 when the Vietnamese ousted Pol Pot. His house, he said, was 800 meters from their village killing field one way, and 500 meters the other way from the prison. Four of his uncles and his grandmother were killed. The killing field in their village was the well at the local Buddhist temple. During Pol Pot’s time, he did go to school, but all they were allowed to study was the Khmer alphabet, one or two letters a day. He said he didn’t get to go to any meaningful school until he was 13. He seemed so matter of fact about it all, but I can’t help wondering what someone with his capacity for language (he’s also picked up a decent supply of French) could have done with real schooling during his childhood.
We asked him how long he’d been married, and he said 3 years. He told us that he didn’t want to do marriage Cambodian style, where the parents choose, but European style, where he got to choose. He claimed he did the latter, but in fact, his cousin suggested several girls from a town about 60 kilometers from his home village. There was one that he’d seen once before, and so he “chose” that one. His cousin made the advances, and it was agreed that marriage could work. Over the next 4 months, he spent, he said, a lot of money (nearly $400) talking on the phone with his future wife, trying to get to know each other before fully committing to the marriage (otherwise we might have gotten divorced, he said).
Once they were both committed, he had to give several thousand dollars to his wife, so she could plan the wedding. The wedding was very big, with over 1000 guests, and cost nearly $10,000. He quickly said though, that he didn’t bear the full cost. It’s understood at weddings that guests make monetary gifts which cover the costs of food and drink for the event.
I asked if his wife had chosen him, or her parents. He fudged this a little, saying that of course they’d had to agree, but that he and his wife had made their own choice based upon the four months they’d spent talking on the phone.
As an aside, Kevin’s English was remarkably good. He said he only studied it for one year in school, when he was 32 (he’s now 37) but that he practiced a lot. We figured out that he was 5 years old when Pol Pot began his reign here, and 9 when the Vietnamese ousted Pol Pot. His house, he said, was 800 meters from their village killing field one way, and 500 meters the other way from the prison. Four of his uncles and his grandmother were killed. The killing field in their village was the well at the local Buddhist temple. During Pol Pot’s time, he did go to school, but all they were allowed to study was the Khmer alphabet, one or two letters a day. He said he didn’t get to go to any meaningful school until he was 13. He seemed so matter of fact about it all, but I can’t help wondering what someone with his capacity for language (he’s also picked up a decent supply of French) could have done with real schooling during his childhood.
Drinking Water
Since we left Paris, the tap water has not been safe to drink without treatment. You don’t really think about how much water you drink or use in a day until every time you need to brush your teeth, take a malaria pill or just have a quick drink you have to locate a water bottle. I’d estimate that not counting other drinks (beer, soda and fruit shakes), we are drinking/using between 6-7 liters of clean water daily.
At $1 a bottle, the costs start to add up, but a bigger issue is the environmental impact of all those plastic bottles. I feel a certain amount of guilt at contributing to the garbage load these countries are suffering from, especially since garbage collection is much less thorough than we are used to and plastic trash is everywhere. If every tourist here is using that much water, the trash load is horrible to contemplate.
In good news, we are traveling with a nifty gadget known as a steri-pen. When the button is pushed, the glass rod emits a UV light. Stir a liter of water with this light for 90 seconds, and all the buggies in the water are dead and it’s safe to drink. This tool was originally designed for back country hikers, but it works for travel.
In spite of having it though, we’ve still been buying much of our water. In part because we buy it to accompany meals or deal with walking in the heat, but in part because I find myself unable to fully trust the steri pen. No one’s been sick yet, but each time I stir up a liter of water I worry that I’m not agitating it enough and that there will be some nasty bug hiding at the bottom of the water bottle. I need to get over this.
At $1 a bottle, the costs start to add up, but a bigger issue is the environmental impact of all those plastic bottles. I feel a certain amount of guilt at contributing to the garbage load these countries are suffering from, especially since garbage collection is much less thorough than we are used to and plastic trash is everywhere. If every tourist here is using that much water, the trash load is horrible to contemplate.
In good news, we are traveling with a nifty gadget known as a steri-pen. When the button is pushed, the glass rod emits a UV light. Stir a liter of water with this light for 90 seconds, and all the buggies in the water are dead and it’s safe to drink. This tool was originally designed for back country hikers, but it works for travel.
In spite of having it though, we’ve still been buying much of our water. In part because we buy it to accompany meals or deal with walking in the heat, but in part because I find myself unable to fully trust the steri pen. No one’s been sick yet, but each time I stir up a liter of water I worry that I’m not agitating it enough and that there will be some nasty bug hiding at the bottom of the water bottle. I need to get over this.
Khmer Food
In addition to the Western food we’ve been eating recently, we’ve had two fabulous Khmer meals. Thanks go to Julie who sent me an article about ethical dining/shopping in Cambodia.
Our first Khmer meal (pictured above) was at the Friends Restaurant and wasn’t strictly speaking Khmer, but had a few good Khmer dishes. The European side of things was represented by some excellent grilled veggies with olive oil and lemon, and some sweet potato fries with curry mayonnaise. The sweet potatoes were definitely a different variety than we have at home, and almost too rich tasting to eat, but we persevered. Moving towards the East, we ordered coleslaw with cabbage and mango, flavored with sesame and lime. Declan’s choice, but unfortunately it came with a lacing of ginger and chilies which made it too spicy for him to enjoy. Note that Khmer food is much, much less spicy and more subtle than Thai food, but Declan is not a fan of strong flavors.
Aidan’s choice was a delicious chicken curry with potatoes and green beans and I think he also suggested the pork fried rice. Made with minced fresh pork, not the familiar bbq pork you’ll find in Chinese restaurants, this was a far cry from the “use up all the leftovers” fried rice that I make at home. We rounded things out with some excellent shrimp wontons (Richard never got to try these, generously giving his up to Declan), and baby bok choy with mushrooms and oyster sauce.
The resulting meal was a slightly bizarre fusion meal, but each of the individual elements were well prepared and tasty.
Our second Khmer meal was today, after our trip to the Killing Field near Phnom Penh. We tried to go to Romdeng, sister restaurant to Friends but with an even bigger Khmer menu, but got there too late for lunch (arriving at 1:15, they close at 2). We asked for a suggestion for where to go next, and got directed towards a restaurant on the riverside. We never did figure out the name of the place, but it is downstairs from a very trendy Spanish tapas place called Pacharan. This is not a hole in the wall local place, but geared towards tourists. At 2 in the afternoon, however, there were only a few other people dining.
Declan was staggering a bit from the heat at this point; having been car sick on the way to the Killing Fields he was also a bit undernourished. But he gamely trudged the 7 blocks to the new restaurant, and perked up when our sodas, beer, and peanuts arrived at the table. The peanuts, which we also had at Friends, are freshly roasted, and tossed with salt mixed with the smallest bit of sugar. Yum. Just the thing to help re-balance the electrolytes.
Aidan immediately spotted the barbequed pork ribs on the menu, and Declan gravitated towards the club sandwich. When we nixed this on the grounds that in a Khmer restaurant it was unclear what it would be, he chose stir fried ginger with chicken. Richard picked out mixed fish with vegetables, and I rounded things out with beef on a stick and mixed vegetables. We gave our order to the waiter, who vetoed the fish on the grounds that Khmer dining requires soup with every meal, and suggested that we have the sour fish soup with vegetables instead. We had read this, though forgotten it, so we were glad the waiter intervened. The soup is used like gravy to flavor rice and soften things up a bit.
And the soup, as it turned out, was delicious. It was the consistency of split pea soup, but was creamy white, thick with minced fish and bright with the flavor of limes and lemongrass. Aidan and I liked the ribs, but Richard and Declan felt that they were too plainly pork tasting. It’s true, they were minimally seasoned, and they did taste mostly of pork. What’s not to like? The beef on a stick had been marinated in a mild turmeric, garlic, and oil rub, and grilled. Chewy, but quite tasty. Declan’s favorite.
The chicken was interesting. The menu had listed it as ginger with chicken, and that is exactly what it was. Lots and lots of shredded ginger, with little bits of chicken snuggled in the shreds. It proved too strong for Declan—ginger can be potent—but made a nice contrast to the otherwise very mildly seasoned food. I particularly liked stirring little bits of it into the mixed veg. The veg was nothing special, but we all need to get some produce.
Having been hoping for an interesting Khmer dessert, we were disappointed that there really weren’t any on the menu. Instead, they brought each of us a perfect Satsuma. Happily stuffed, we waddled back out into the heat, and got a tuk tuk back to our guesthouse for our delayed siesta.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Happy Inauguration Day!
It's about 4 hours before the inauguration, and we're sitting in the Foreign Correspondents Club in Phnom Penh, watching the CNN coverage and drinking beer (the boys have sodas). It is a lovely open air space, with a view out over the river, geckos on the wall, and fans twisting lazily on the ceiling. Truth is, there are more tourists than journalists, but somehow it's just the right place for this event.
Ok, and real truth...we're not going to manage to see the inauguration or the speech today. Reality is, we'll order some food, and then head back to go to bed. The swearing-in and speech won't happen until after midnight local time, and I just don't see us still being awake. We'll watch replays tomorrow online.
But in the meantime, what a great way to hang out. I feel like a character in a black and white movie.
Ok, and real truth...we're not going to manage to see the inauguration or the speech today. Reality is, we'll order some food, and then head back to go to bed. The swearing-in and speech won't happen until after midnight local time, and I just don't see us still being awake. We'll watch replays tomorrow online.
But in the meantime, what a great way to hang out. I feel like a character in a black and white movie.
Bakery Tour
After we checked in last night, we drifted round the corner to a café recommended by Lonely Planet, El Mundo. Not exactly traditional food, but they have a very cosy upstairs lounge where we could stretch out on huge couches while nibbling onion rings (not very good) and spring rolls (fresh and fried, both great). While there, we picked up a dining guide to Phnom Penh, which had a whole page devoted to local bakeries. Having been living on Thai food, we thought a breakfast of pastry sounded grand.
After a night’s sleep (or not, depending on which one of us you ask), we got up and walked down to the closest one of the bakeries. The boys both had “black chocolate” donuts, Richard had a croissant, and I had a flaky pork pastry. For a grand total of $2. So we then moved onto the next bakery, and tried a triangle of layer cake (not so great), a pineapple turnover (a little on the heavy side), a challah like bread with little bits of nuts and raisins (nice), and a half moon shaped puff pastry filled with whipped cream and strawberry jam (I’m told it’s good, but wasn’t given a taste). Another $2.
The only problem was these are all Cambodian bakeries, which sell pastries but don’t
have chairs or tables, and by this point, Richard was falling over from being forced to walk before breakfast. So we retreated to Sentiment Coffee (“Be Trendy” the windows proclaimed). There, for another $7, we indulged in coffees and a sit down in the air conditioning.
After a night’s sleep (or not, depending on which one of us you ask), we got up and walked down to the closest one of the bakeries. The boys both had “black chocolate” donuts, Richard had a croissant, and I had a flaky pork pastry. For a grand total of $2. So we then moved onto the next bakery, and tried a triangle of layer cake (not so great), a pineapple turnover (a little on the heavy side), a challah like bread with little bits of nuts and raisins (nice), and a half moon shaped puff pastry filled with whipped cream and strawberry jam (I’m told it’s good, but wasn’t given a taste). Another $2.
The only problem was these are all Cambodian bakeries, which sell pastries but don’t
have chairs or tables, and by this point, Richard was falling over from being forced to walk before breakfast. So we retreated to Sentiment Coffee (“Be Trendy” the windows proclaimed). There, for another $7, we indulged in coffees and a sit down in the air conditioning.
Learning Language
We managed, in the time we were in Thailand, to learn to say hello and thank you in Thai. I’m determined to learn at least hello, thank you, and good bye in Khmer. Thus far, I’ve got a passable thank you going, and a bit of a hello. The languages are tonal, plus everyone seems to know these words in English, so it’s hard to get much practice. But we’re working on it.
India before Phnom Penh
We had anticipated finding Phnom Penh to be on the overwhelming side. We’d read about the noise, dirt, beggars, and chaos, but honestly, after Delhi, it’s pretty easy. We hadn’t thought about that as a benefit of our schedule. While Phnom Penh would be shocking if we’d come here straight from Seattle (or any other modern, Western city), it’s so much easier than Delhi. There are far fewer beggars and they don’t follow you down the street, and the tuk tuk drivers smile back and nod when you say “no thank you.”
Goodbye to Koh Tao
Our departure from Koh Tao, though a long travel day, was nothing like our arrival. We got the early “taxi” from Black Tip (have we described the pickup truck with the benches fitted in the bed?), stopped at the bank to cash enough traveller’s checks to pay for the hotel for the week (saving the 2.3% credit card fee)(a woman from the resort came with us, holding tightly to our passports until we paid her in full), and got, with some trepidation, onto the ferry. Fortunately, the weather was calm (sea rippled) and the ferry was the idyllic two hours chugging between gorgeous islands that we had imagined it would be.
The Samui airport was also painless—they’ve spent a ton of money upgrading it and building an outdoor shopping mall. Not that we shopped, and it looked rather as if no one else was shopping either, but the open air promenade, the shaded but open air departure lounge, the free pastries, fruit and beverage, made the whole thing the most pleasant zen-like experience I’ve ever had in an airport. I think the lack of ear splitting announcements about boarding one’s flight or not leaving one’s bags helped a lot.
We flew to Bangkok, made an easy transfer to our flight to Phnom Penh, and arrived in Cambodia a mere 12 hours after we had woken up in the morning. Contrary to all expectations, the arrival was piece of cake. Getting our visas as we arrived took all of 10 minutes (and Declan was only $5, unlike the $20 for the rest of us), our luggage was awaiting us after we cleared immigration, and we walked out the door to a taxi driver who took us straight to the hotel we had picked out.
And even that worked well. We were worried because we hadn’t made any reservations, and pictured the endless backpackers trek from one skuzzy guest house to the next seeking bedbug free rooms. But, the Indochine 2, the place we’d decided to start with, had two rooms available, and we moved right in. The place is clean, though our room is horrifically noisy. It’s centrally located, and the price is right. ($20 a room, including en suite bathrooms, air con, and cable).
The Samui airport was also painless—they’ve spent a ton of money upgrading it and building an outdoor shopping mall. Not that we shopped, and it looked rather as if no one else was shopping either, but the open air promenade, the shaded but open air departure lounge, the free pastries, fruit and beverage, made the whole thing the most pleasant zen-like experience I’ve ever had in an airport. I think the lack of ear splitting announcements about boarding one’s flight or not leaving one’s bags helped a lot.
We flew to Bangkok, made an easy transfer to our flight to Phnom Penh, and arrived in Cambodia a mere 12 hours after we had woken up in the morning. Contrary to all expectations, the arrival was piece of cake. Getting our visas as we arrived took all of 10 minutes (and Declan was only $5, unlike the $20 for the rest of us), our luggage was awaiting us after we cleared immigration, and we walked out the door to a taxi driver who took us straight to the hotel we had picked out.
And even that worked well. We were worried because we hadn’t made any reservations, and pictured the endless backpackers trek from one skuzzy guest house to the next seeking bedbug free rooms. But, the Indochine 2, the place we’d decided to start with, had two rooms available, and we moved right in. The place is clean, though our room is horrifically noisy. It’s centrally located, and the price is right. ($20 a room, including en suite bathrooms, air con, and cable).
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Our last day on Ko Tao and it was PERFECT.
We have probably sounded a mite grumpy so far; we were very tired when we got here, and a little desperate for our tropical beach experience, and instead what we found was gray sky, relentless wind, a freezing pool and poor diving conditions.
Today, everything was different. In the morning the wind and sea had dropped enough that we could (at last) dive in Tanote Bay, right in front of the resort, where the visibility was twice as good and the sea life three times as good. I must have seen fifty different species of fish and innumerable corals, plus a blue stingray and, yes, a ghostly algae-painted moped sitting upright on its kickstand at 12 meters. Our first “dive wreck”!
Afterwards, lunch right on the beach, with a view of blue water, blue sky, and palm trees and bougainvillea ruffled by a gentle sea breeze. This afternoon we snorkeled in the other end of the bay and saw even more amazements, including a huge blue parrot fish that drifted beside us and bizarre blue-lipped clams that sucked themselves shut like prim dowagers as we passed. Then R+A+D wrestled in the surf while K lay on a towel offering strategic advice.
At 6 o’clock K and R retired to the waterfront massage shack for a solid hour of being oiled and pummeled into another dimension. We returned to this plane just after dark, in time to sit on the beach with A+D and some cocktails that tasted exactly like cough syrup; we spent half an hour discussing the posture of Orion, who was hunting Taurus high in the east. And then we wandered down the sand to an open-air restaurant serving barbecued Marlin…
Declan: “Tell me again. Exactly WHY is it we don’t live here?”
Tomorrow, alas, something vaguely akin to reality: the ferry to Ko Samui and flights to Bangkok, then Phnom Penh.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Pictures, captions again
OK... so, if you double-click the "Slideshow" at left you can get to the folder, and if you scroll down you will now find the pix with captions - still in the wrong order, but semi-intelligible at least. Some are duplicates of captionless ones that are already there because they were included in blog posts.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Pictures, captions, technology, uuuurk!
More on pictures and captions... is anyone out there any better than me at Bloggger and Google? Having essentially given up on trying to add pictures to blog posts (if we do, they won't load), I finally managed to add captions to 65 of our photos AND upload them as a batch directly to the web album associated with our blog. So that at least people can double-click the Slideshow and see the album. But the pictures have shown up in the album in scrambled order - and not one of the captions has shown up in those versions of the pictures.
ANYWAY... we are all now PADI Certified divers, and are looking forward to a day or two doing nothing. The wind has finally dropped a little and the sun come out more fully so we have gone tourist-pink. Can't believe we are leaving on Monday for Cambodia - the time here has flown.
ANYWAY... we are all now PADI Certified divers, and are looking forward to a day or two doing nothing. The wind has finally dropped a little and the sun come out more fully so we have gone tourist-pink. Can't believe we are leaving on Monday for Cambodia - the time here has flown.
Lost on Koh Tao
Today my parents had the bright idea that we try to walk over an island with no reliable roads, trails or maps. I think we only managed to get down because we met a helpful Thai couple who spoke English and pointed us in the right direction.
In the middle of the hike, we managed to get completely stranded in the middle of somebody's back yard. This isn't a manicured green lawn, but a mass of boulders, blue irrigation tanks, jungle with no visible property definition. We walked up the main road from Tanote bay to the reservoir, then we took a road up to the top of the highest peak on this end of the island. From there, we started to go down, and the road turned into a lovely jungle path, which turned into a trail, which turned into an indistinct line through the vegetation. And then it ended. We bushwacked for a little bit, then went back to where it was still kind of a path. We started going through this little collection of huts hoping to find someone. At the beginning there was a puppy that looked exactly like our dive instructor's puppy Barker, probably from the same litter. The dog didn't seem to get the message that we didn't want it to bite our feet. Of course, there were no people.
Dad lead the way through these homes, and we came out near a few others. These homes were traditional bamboo huts, with no power or water to them. Mom was a little alarmed when she realized that the pigs were not all fenced in, but they only grunted at us. Then we found another collection of homes, and called out, in our best Thai, sa wa di kap, which, if you get the tones right, means Hello. (If you get the tones wrong, it probably means your mother is a beer keg or something like that.) Some one answered, and it turned out to be this very nice couple who spoke enough english to point us in the right direction. The woman actually walked us a ways into the jungle to help us find the path again.
It was still hard going to slide our way down the rocky path (how do the locals do this in their flip flops?), but we eventually got out. And immediately found water to drink and then got lunch.
In the middle of the hike, we managed to get completely stranded in the middle of somebody's back yard. This isn't a manicured green lawn, but a mass of boulders, blue irrigation tanks, jungle with no visible property definition. We walked up the main road from Tanote bay to the reservoir, then we took a road up to the top of the highest peak on this end of the island. From there, we started to go down, and the road turned into a lovely jungle path, which turned into a trail, which turned into an indistinct line through the vegetation. And then it ended. We bushwacked for a little bit, then went back to where it was still kind of a path. We started going through this little collection of huts hoping to find someone. At the beginning there was a puppy that looked exactly like our dive instructor's puppy Barker, probably from the same litter. The dog didn't seem to get the message that we didn't want it to bite our feet. Of course, there were no people.
Dad lead the way through these homes, and we came out near a few others. These homes were traditional bamboo huts, with no power or water to them. Mom was a little alarmed when she realized that the pigs were not all fenced in, but they only grunted at us. Then we found another collection of homes, and called out, in our best Thai, sa wa di kap, which, if you get the tones right, means Hello. (If you get the tones wrong, it probably means your mother is a beer keg or something like that.) Some one answered, and it turned out to be this very nice couple who spoke enough english to point us in the right direction. The woman actually walked us a ways into the jungle to help us find the path again.
It was still hard going to slide our way down the rocky path (how do the locals do this in their flip flops?), but we eventually got out. And immediately found water to drink and then got lunch.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Pictures
Nothing to add except that I just ate FAR too much lunch. Oh, and I am adding some pictures to our India postings, so scroll back to before Jan 9 if interested. -R
[LATER: scratch that. The connection here just won't take it. I had about 15 images I wanted to post, and spent 10 minutes trying unsuccessfully to upload just one. You will have to wait!]
[LATER: scratch that. The connection here just won't take it. I had about 15 images I wanted to post, and spent 10 minutes trying unsuccessfully to upload just one. You will have to wait!]
another big word: Thermocline
As I learned in dive school, a thermocline is a sudden temperature change underwater, and can be as far apart as 15-20 degrees Fahrenheit.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Thailand--lots to say, not much time
Hi All,
We are once again in a bar making blog postings (our "resort" connection has been down the whole time we've been there) and in spite of having brought the power brick, we can't plug in anywhere.
We've been eating great food--the boys have discovered watermelon juice and mango shakes, and we've all been enjoying a local treat known as "no name" We ordered it one day just to find out what it is. Turns out a prawn no name is vegetable and prawn fritter, served with a sweet chili sauce. We've ordered several varieties now, all delicious.
We did our first open water diving today. Visibility wasn't as great as we would have liked (the wind is still blowing mightily) but the coral was gorgeous, the fish interesting, and the Christmas tree worms amazing (they're bright blue, orange or yellow critters that fan out from the rocks and coral, and suck back into themselves as you pass by). We had a bit of an adventure when our little boat (that we used to get from shore to the big boat) swamped and nearly over turned on our return to shore. The tide is in and high, and we shot up a wave halfway onto the boardwalk. The next wave turned the boat on its side, spewing people, dive tanks and gear into the surf. Fortunately no one broke an ankle with the tanks, and all gear was recovered.
We haven't done as much beach lounging as we'd like (the wind), but we are still enjoying the lovely peace and quiet. We are staying at Black Tip Dive Resort (google them if you want to see more), which is a funky, low budget dive place, but with good food, clean bungalows, and nice people (including very good, native english speaking dive instructors).
My turn on the computer is up. Hope everyone is well. We are appreciating your comments, and will respond when we have better internet.
Take care.
We are once again in a bar making blog postings (our "resort" connection has been down the whole time we've been there) and in spite of having brought the power brick, we can't plug in anywhere.
We've been eating great food--the boys have discovered watermelon juice and mango shakes, and we've all been enjoying a local treat known as "no name" We ordered it one day just to find out what it is. Turns out a prawn no name is vegetable and prawn fritter, served with a sweet chili sauce. We've ordered several varieties now, all delicious.
We did our first open water diving today. Visibility wasn't as great as we would have liked (the wind is still blowing mightily) but the coral was gorgeous, the fish interesting, and the Christmas tree worms amazing (they're bright blue, orange or yellow critters that fan out from the rocks and coral, and suck back into themselves as you pass by). We had a bit of an adventure when our little boat (that we used to get from shore to the big boat) swamped and nearly over turned on our return to shore. The tide is in and high, and we shot up a wave halfway onto the boardwalk. The next wave turned the boat on its side, spewing people, dive tanks and gear into the surf. Fortunately no one broke an ankle with the tanks, and all gear was recovered.
We haven't done as much beach lounging as we'd like (the wind), but we are still enjoying the lovely peace and quiet. We are staying at Black Tip Dive Resort (google them if you want to see more), which is a funky, low budget dive place, but with good food, clean bungalows, and nice people (including very good, native english speaking dive instructors).
My turn on the computer is up. Hope everyone is well. We are appreciating your comments, and will respond when we have better internet.
Take care.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Greetings from Ko Tao
We are in Thailand but once again finding that 'wired world' is a bit of a myth; no connection where we are and a wonky one at a cafe this side of the island - also everyone just checked e-mail and our battery is about to run out. I have just posted 3 backdated entries that I had written into Word so scroll back a day or two for those. Pictures later.
In Thailand
On Ko Tao, in the Gulf of Thailand, after one of the most exhausting travel experiences we have ever had. (And typing this into Word again for later posting, because of more access issues. “Wired world”? I’m not convinced.
We knew it would be tough: check out of Delhi hotel on Thursday morning, kill entire day on foot in Delhi, back to hotel for bags and airport transfer at nine PM, flight to Bangkok from midnight to four, flight to Ko Samui from nine AM to eleven, ferry to Ko Tao two PM to four. Actually the final day in Delhi, sans guide, was great – bright sun, modest warmth, the whole city looking almost clean; we mastered the Metro, ate ice cream at Nirula’s on Connaught Circle, went to the National Museum to see everything from 10th C armor to (incongruously) a wonderful small Faberge exhibition. And, despite the timing, no problem with the flights.
Still, we were exhausted by Ko Samui, and what we had not bargained on was a truly ghastly ferry ride, in massive breaking rollers, for the two hours to Ko Tau. People were throwing up everywhere – one poor woman got hit square by a horizontally driven stream from someone else – and a few of the waves were quite scary. We more or less managed to keep our day’s worth of airline peanuts down, but were all feeling a bit ill when we got here - me especially. I only felt normal again (and suddenly needed a stiff drink and a large dinner) several hours after getting here.
Time for bed! More about Ko Tao when we have had time to notice it!
We knew it would be tough: check out of Delhi hotel on Thursday morning, kill entire day on foot in Delhi, back to hotel for bags and airport transfer at nine PM, flight to Bangkok from midnight to four, flight to Ko Samui from nine AM to eleven, ferry to Ko Tao two PM to four. Actually the final day in Delhi, sans guide, was great – bright sun, modest warmth, the whole city looking almost clean; we mastered the Metro, ate ice cream at Nirula’s on Connaught Circle, went to the National Museum to see everything from 10th C armor to (incongruously) a wonderful small Faberge exhibition. And, despite the timing, no problem with the flights.
Still, we were exhausted by Ko Samui, and what we had not bargained on was a truly ghastly ferry ride, in massive breaking rollers, for the two hours to Ko Tau. People were throwing up everywhere – one poor woman got hit square by a horizontally driven stream from someone else – and a few of the waves were quite scary. We more or less managed to keep our day’s worth of airline peanuts down, but were all feeling a bit ill when we got here - me especially. I only felt normal again (and suddenly needed a stiff drink and a large dinner) several hours after getting here.
Time for bed! More about Ko Tao when we have had time to notice it!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Last morning in Delhi
Falling behind on our blog posts because most of the time here we have had, despite the much –touted Indian technological transformation, no internet access. (There’s a network at the hotel, closely modeled on the hot water supply.) I am typing this (as with my last post) in Word, to paste into the blog if/when possible.
On Wed morning we left by road on a mad, mad jaunt to Agra. As it turned out, it’s really much too far to go by road given the available time. (Caveat: had we gone by air or rail, we would not have gone at all, due to the fog.) Our driver Kishore negotiated the insanity with the skill (and sometimes bravado) of a fighter pilot in a 1,000-planee dogfight, and we got to see the Taj in a miraculous late-afternoon break in the fog.
Yesterday even crazier – eight hours in the car, total, for the sake of two hours at Fatehpur Sikri. Today free in Delhi – and no fog for the first time! To Bangkok at five past midnight…
On Wed morning we left by road on a mad, mad jaunt to Agra. As it turned out, it’s really much too far to go by road given the available time. (Caveat: had we gone by air or rail, we would not have gone at all, due to the fog.) Our driver Kishore negotiated the insanity with the skill (and sometimes bravado) of a fighter pilot in a 1,000-planee dogfight, and we got to see the Taj in a miraculous late-afternoon break in the fog.
Yesterday even crazier – eight hours in the car, total, for the sake of two hours at Fatehpur Sikri. Today free in Delhi – and no fog for the first time! To Bangkok at five past midnight…
On our way to Thailand
India has been quite something, but we've had hopeless internet connections. We're storing up blog posts for when we get to Thailand.
We're optimistic that our flight will leave Delhi tonight, but the fog is settling back in and we don't know whether we'll take off.
If it all works, we get to Koh Tao by about 5 tomorrow night (a mere 20 hours after leaving our Delhi hotel). If it doesn't work, well...we'll get there eventually.
We're optimistic that our flight will leave Delhi tonight, but the fog is settling back in and we don't know whether we'll take off.
If it all works, we get to Koh Tao by about 5 tomorrow night (a mere 20 hours after leaving our Delhi hotel). If it doesn't work, well...we'll get there eventually.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Another Western Tourist Stunned into Cliche by India
A bizarre day graced with magical moments.
We got up at the crack of dawn – OK, 6.30 – so that we would have time to pack, breakfast, and be on the road to Agra by 8.00. Supposedly it’s a 4 1/2 hour drive… We actually made it out into (once again) dense fog by about 8.30 and commenced a ride through a landscape out of Dante. (Not the Commedia.) According to our driver, Delhi has a population of 16 million ‘officially,’ but probably 20+ million during the work day. The usual almost unimaginable pandemonium on the streets is simply cars, trucks, bikes, motorbikes and 3-wheel Tuk-tuks all using their horns, all the time, and none obeying any discernible traffic rules, any of the time. Add to this a massive city-wide construction project for the new metro system, scheduled to open before the 2010 Commonwealth Games. (Hard to believe it will happen, but meanwhile the congestion and dust levels have all tripled.) Add blizzards of litter, plenty of cows, camels and feral dogs on the roads, and the worst fog Delhi has experienced in 20 years. Then add blizzards of litter, and the smoke from the ten thousand street fires of the homeless, who like burning plastic trash for the excellent reason that there is so much of it and it burns hot…
Even after we left the city limits, which takes a long time, the fog was so thick that we could only barely register that we were moving through smaller communities and then farmland. So we droned along mostly in silence, occasionally making conversation about the traffic, police, or animals to our driver, a kind man with a wonderful singing laugh who alas is very hard to make sense of.
At one point on the road I saw a group of people carrying rocks for a small rural construction project – fixing an embankment. Some of them were young women in long, filthy-as-rag saris with big rock baskets on their heads. Twenty yards further along were their children, aged perhaps one to four, standing vacantly in a pile of brick dust. The children were so filthy, so ragged, that they reminded me of the drawings of the naked Fuegians in Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle.
Back in our own comfortable world, Kerry and I are chafing a bit at the unfamiliar thing we intentionally arranged for this part of the trip: a guided tour that really turns us into Tourists rather than the Travelers we would like to be. We were deposited for lunch at a bad and overpriced restaurant where we had an indifferent lunch – but, as the driver reasonably explained, there are not many places they can take tourists and be confident they won’t get sick. (Given that I found a large, well-braised cockroach in my Bengan Bharta at just such a place only yesterday, we are not encouraged to roam too far afield.)
Back on the road – and in the end it was almost six hours to reach Agra, a smaller version of Delhi in most respects. Still foggy too, but hints of sun as we met the local guide, dumped our bags in another clammy hotel room smelling of Lysol, and rushed off to the Taj.
I have to say, by way of intro, that when I came here 25 years ago it left me cold. It was drizzling, my expectations were too high, and I felt nothing. This time we were blessed – the haze lifted just as we arrived, and the spectacle was heart-stopping. The main gate – which, as our guide said, could be a major monument in its own right, is just another huge Mughal fort-like-thing in red sandstone. But as you turn to go through it you see part of the main tomb, then more, then suddenly all of it, and it really does look as if 10,000 tons of white marble have been rendered magically weightless, floating just off the ground against a pale sapphire sky.
Of course, we’re Tourists, so we only had about an hour left if we were going to get to the Agra Fort before it closed for the day. What you really want is an hour to wander and two or three more just sitting on a bench with your eyes falling out. But it felt like a privilege to be there. AND, despite being double-parked by a camel (yes really) we made it to the Fort with two minutes to spare.
I will leave these things – and the nicest meal we’ve had in India so far - for someone else to describe.
We got up at the crack of dawn – OK, 6.30 – so that we would have time to pack, breakfast, and be on the road to Agra by 8.00. Supposedly it’s a 4 1/2 hour drive… We actually made it out into (once again) dense fog by about 8.30 and commenced a ride through a landscape out of Dante. (Not the Commedia.) According to our driver, Delhi has a population of 16 million ‘officially,’ but probably 20+ million during the work day. The usual almost unimaginable pandemonium on the streets is simply cars, trucks, bikes, motorbikes and 3-wheel Tuk-tuks all using their horns, all the time, and none obeying any discernible traffic rules, any of the time. Add to this a massive city-wide construction project for the new metro system, scheduled to open before the 2010 Commonwealth Games. (Hard to believe it will happen, but meanwhile the congestion and dust levels have all tripled.) Add blizzards of litter, plenty of cows, camels and feral dogs on the roads, and the worst fog Delhi has experienced in 20 years. Then add blizzards of litter, and the smoke from the ten thousand street fires of the homeless, who like burning plastic trash for the excellent reason that there is so much of it and it burns hot…
Even after we left the city limits, which takes a long time, the fog was so thick that we could only barely register that we were moving through smaller communities and then farmland. So we droned along mostly in silence, occasionally making conversation about the traffic, police, or animals to our driver, a kind man with a wonderful singing laugh who alas is very hard to make sense of.
At one point on the road I saw a group of people carrying rocks for a small rural construction project – fixing an embankment. Some of them were young women in long, filthy-as-rag saris with big rock baskets on their heads. Twenty yards further along were their children, aged perhaps one to four, standing vacantly in a pile of brick dust. The children were so filthy, so ragged, that they reminded me of the drawings of the naked Fuegians in Darwin’s Voyage of the Beagle.
Back in our own comfortable world, Kerry and I are chafing a bit at the unfamiliar thing we intentionally arranged for this part of the trip: a guided tour that really turns us into Tourists rather than the Travelers we would like to be. We were deposited for lunch at a bad and overpriced restaurant where we had an indifferent lunch – but, as the driver reasonably explained, there are not many places they can take tourists and be confident they won’t get sick. (Given that I found a large, well-braised cockroach in my Bengan Bharta at just such a place only yesterday, we are not encouraged to roam too far afield.)
Back on the road – and in the end it was almost six hours to reach Agra, a smaller version of Delhi in most respects. Still foggy too, but hints of sun as we met the local guide, dumped our bags in another clammy hotel room smelling of Lysol, and rushed off to the Taj.
I have to say, by way of intro, that when I came here 25 years ago it left me cold. It was drizzling, my expectations were too high, and I felt nothing. This time we were blessed – the haze lifted just as we arrived, and the spectacle was heart-stopping. The main gate – which, as our guide said, could be a major monument in its own right, is just another huge Mughal fort-like-thing in red sandstone. But as you turn to go through it you see part of the main tomb, then more, then suddenly all of it, and it really does look as if 10,000 tons of white marble have been rendered magically weightless, floating just off the ground against a pale sapphire sky.
Of course, we’re Tourists, so we only had about an hour left if we were going to get to the Agra Fort before it closed for the day. What you really want is an hour to wander and two or three more just sitting on a bench with your eyes falling out. But it felt like a privilege to be there. AND, despite being double-parked by a camel (yes really) we made it to the Fort with two minutes to spare.
I will leave these things – and the nicest meal we’ve had in India so far - for someone else to describe.
Monday, January 5, 2009
India by Declan
Today is our second day in India. Yesterday we visited a Mosque and then took a bicycle rickshaw to the Red Fort, which is massive. About 1-1.5 miles deep and 3 miles wide, and we only walked down the middle to see the apartments and the public audience place. If you’re wondering why we went to see apartments it’s because the Red Fort was built by one of the rulers of India and was only turned into a military fort when the British showed up.
Today we went to a place where there’s a big tower that I forget the name of and there were a bunch of Indian school girls staring at Aidan. There was also an unfinished tower which barely reached its first level but was meant to be twice as tall as the finished one.
Today we went to a place where there’s a big tower that I forget the name of and there were a bunch of Indian school girls staring at Aidan. There was also an unfinished tower which barely reached its first level but was meant to be twice as tall as the finished one.
India by Aidan
Today was our second day in India, though it feels like our two hundredth, or at least our twentieth. Delhi is a bustling city, and that’s under-exageration. There is no obvious rule on the streets, and the number of pieces of litter probably outnumber the number of mammals. No street corner is complete without a dirty street stall, and to the extent there are streetlights, they are surrounded by beggars and merchants.
In the past two days we have visited four monuments, at least two of which are World Heritage sites. On the first day, we went to the Red Fort and a mosque. At the fort, one of the things that I noticed was that there were sandbagged gun emplacements and guards with machine guns. At the mosque, the sheer amount of pigeon poop tends to be the first thing I think of.
Today, we went to a famous abandoned mosque and the first Mongol tomb in India. At the mosque, the tower from which the priest calls people to prayer is facing the wrong direction. All of these towers are supposed to face west, towards Mecca. At the tomb, I was impressed by the fact that the barber got his own big tomb structure.
In the past two days we have visited four monuments, at least two of which are World Heritage sites. On the first day, we went to the Red Fort and a mosque. At the fort, one of the things that I noticed was that there were sandbagged gun emplacements and guards with machine guns. At the mosque, the sheer amount of pigeon poop tends to be the first thing I think of.
Today, we went to a famous abandoned mosque and the first Mongol tomb in India. At the mosque, the tower from which the priest calls people to prayer is facing the wrong direction. All of these towers are supposed to face west, towards Mecca. At the tomb, I was impressed by the fact that the barber got his own big tomb structure.
We made it to India
We made it! Our flights were long, but uneventful (we even left Doha early), and we were able to land in Delhi despite the worst fog in 5 years (multiple flights are being cancelled and diverted). We're hoping the fog will lift sufficiently by the end of the week to enable us to get out again.
India is, well, India. Crowded, dirty, overwhelming, noisy, chaotic...We are so grateful that we booked a tour guide and driver here (Thank you Stephanie!). We have spent 2 days being sheparded around Delhi to various important sites (to be described in another posting), and will head to the Taj Mahal tomorrow. Driving will be difficult because of the fog, but at least we're not trying to travel by train (they're all delayed because of the fog). We are starting to find our own way around the neighborhood a little bit on our own, but are still trying to figure out how to walk in the street while not getting hit by the various motorized things zipping around. We haven't quite gotten secret code of when to veer and when to hold steady. Fortunately, the local drivers are forgiving of tourists and do their best to avoid adding us to their hoods.
We've been enjoying the much warmer climate, though for locals it is quite cold. Lots of folks in wool jackets and hats, and numerous reports in the paper of people suffering from the cold and schools closing too.
We just got back from the sweet shop, so I'll wrap this up. More later.
India is, well, India. Crowded, dirty, overwhelming, noisy, chaotic...We are so grateful that we booked a tour guide and driver here (Thank you Stephanie!). We have spent 2 days being sheparded around Delhi to various important sites (to be described in another posting), and will head to the Taj Mahal tomorrow. Driving will be difficult because of the fog, but at least we're not trying to travel by train (they're all delayed because of the fog). We are starting to find our own way around the neighborhood a little bit on our own, but are still trying to figure out how to walk in the street while not getting hit by the various motorized things zipping around. We haven't quite gotten secret code of when to veer and when to hold steady. Fortunately, the local drivers are forgiving of tourists and do their best to avoid adding us to their hoods.
We've been enjoying the much warmer climate, though for locals it is quite cold. Lots of folks in wool jackets and hats, and numerous reports in the paper of people suffering from the cold and schools closing too.
We just got back from the sweet shop, so I'll wrap this up. More later.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Museums we saw in Paris
In the end, we saw 9 museums in Paris. You get a bit jaded, "Oh, look, another Renoir, snore" but we saw some amazing art. I really liked the displays of the bronzes alongside the clay models the artists used to think out their work. You could see how the artist built up the figure before casting it.
Our list:
Musee National de la Marine
Crypte Archaeologique de Notre Dame
Musee National de L'Orangerie
Musee D'Orsay
Musee Rodin
Versailles
Musee de l'Armee
Musee de la Mode et du Textile
Musee du Louvre
Other thoughts: buy the museum pass. not only does it help you pop in and out without feeling like you have to spend a lot of time in any particular museum, but more importantly, it entitles you to priority entrance and you can bypass the super long entrance lines.
And, the Musee d'Orangerie does the best crowd control. They keep people outside and only let a limited number in at any time. Beautiful interesting space, not shoulder to shoulder people.
The Musee d'Orsay does the best women's bathrooms. Eight stalls for women, with sinks outside the stalls. Versailles has the worst. Two stalls, with sinks in the stalls so no one can else can use the loo while you wash your hands.
Our list:
Musee National de la Marine
Crypte Archaeologique de Notre Dame
Musee National de L'Orangerie
Musee D'Orsay
Musee Rodin
Versailles
Musee de l'Armee
Musee de la Mode et du Textile
Musee du Louvre
Other thoughts: buy the museum pass. not only does it help you pop in and out without feeling like you have to spend a lot of time in any particular museum, but more importantly, it entitles you to priority entrance and you can bypass the super long entrance lines.
And, the Musee d'Orangerie does the best crowd control. They keep people outside and only let a limited number in at any time. Beautiful interesting space, not shoulder to shoulder people.
The Musee d'Orsay does the best women's bathrooms. Eight stalls for women, with sinks outside the stalls. Versailles has the worst. Two stalls, with sinks in the stalls so no one can else can use the loo while you wash your hands.
Can we say too many museums?
(THIS WAS REALLY WRITTEN BY AIDAN)
We did a lot today. First, we had a long subway ride all the way across Paris to discover that there was a two hour wait to get into the catacombs. (The line went literally around the block. Well, halfway, but it was a big block. I'm not kidding.) Then we took another long train ride to Musee d'Orsay. We saw an exhibition on masks. We also saw the Corners of the World statue. Does anybody know why one of the (bare chested) women holding up the globe is chained up but the others aren't? Next, we went to the Orangerie. They had eight giant waterlily paintings by Monet, and a bunch of other paintings (at least half of which showed nude or bare chested women, and none of which showed nude men.) Next, we went to the textile museum and saw a bunch of clothes. Then, at 2:00 in the afternoon, we went to have lunch. The pace that was recommended to us had nothing left, so we went to another place that had really good food but only had one server/busboy/barman/cashier, so it was four in the afternoon by the time we started to eat.
In order from top to bottom, the pictures are of: A model of L'Opera Garnier, the clock in Musee d'Orsay (which used to be a train station), Le Baselique de Sacre-Couer barely visible through an exterior clock at Musee d'Orsay, and an idea for police transport that I thought was cool but wouldn't work in Seattle: Rollerblades.
We did a lot today. First, we had a long subway ride all the way across Paris to discover that there was a two hour wait to get into the catacombs. (The line went literally around the block. Well, halfway, but it was a big block. I'm not kidding.) Then we took another long train ride to Musee d'Orsay. We saw an exhibition on masks. We also saw the Corners of the World statue. Does anybody know why one of the (bare chested) women holding up the globe is chained up but the others aren't? Next, we went to the Orangerie. They had eight giant waterlily paintings by Monet, and a bunch of other paintings (at least half of which showed nude or bare chested women, and none of which showed nude men.) Next, we went to the textile museum and saw a bunch of clothes. Then, at 2:00 in the afternoon, we went to have lunch. The pace that was recommended to us had nothing left, so we went to another place that had really good food but only had one server/busboy/barman/cashier, so it was four in the afternoon by the time we started to eat.
In order from top to bottom, the pictures are of: A model of L'Opera Garnier, the clock in Musee d'Orsay (which used to be a train station), Le Baselique de Sacre-Couer barely visible through an exterior clock at Musee d'Orsay, and an idea for police transport that I thought was cool but wouldn't work in Seattle: Rollerblades.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Bon Fete! Bon Annee! Freezing fog!
We got up early this morning and Metro-d to Les Invalides, then walked the last bit to the Eiffel Tower, one of Aidan's chief Paris goals. We did indeed beat (most) of the crowds, but the whole city is a single icy breath and there was no point going to the top. So instead we went for feelings of virtue and hoofed it to the 2-ieme Etage. Thought this would be something of a workout but in fact each floor took about 5 minutes, and we would gladly have walked to the top just to say we'd done it. Alas they don't allow this any more, so we merely walked around and took foggy photos. (In #2 below you can just barely see L'Ecole Militarie at the tip of the telescope, less than half a mile away.)
Afterwards we did a serious hike, via the Arc De Triomphe and Parc de Monceau, all thee way back to Montmartre, for a thaw-out and lunch "at home" and a well-deserved afternoon of reading and napping.
Just back from a quick walk around the neighborhood - mainly so that I could see the Lapin Agile, be photographed in front of Picasso's old atelier just up the street at the Bateau-Lavoir (where he painted Les Demoiselles d'Avignon etc. etc.), and generally feel that I was communing with the artistic spirits. Then we ducked into a cafe on Rue des Abbesses for chocolat chaud and vin chaud while people-watching the locals. Smoking having been banned in such places, the men stand at the zinc bar with their aperitifs in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Stubble, a donkey jacket and a raffishly half-furled scarf are de rigeur.
Can't believe it's our last day tomorrow - airport and a full day's travel on Saturday.
Afterwards we did a serious hike, via the Arc De Triomphe and Parc de Monceau, all thee way back to Montmartre, for a thaw-out and lunch "at home" and a well-deserved afternoon of reading and napping.
Just back from a quick walk around the neighborhood - mainly so that I could see the Lapin Agile, be photographed in front of Picasso's old atelier just up the street at the Bateau-Lavoir (where he painted Les Demoiselles d'Avignon etc. etc.), and generally feel that I was communing with the artistic spirits. Then we ducked into a cafe on Rue des Abbesses for chocolat chaud and vin chaud while people-watching the locals. Smoking having been banned in such places, the men stand at the zinc bar with their aperitifs in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Stubble, a donkey jacket and a raffishly half-furled scarf are de rigeur.
Can't believe it's our last day tomorrow - airport and a full day's travel on Saturday.
Having fun at the butcher's
Here's a picture we took yesterday while shopping for our new year's meal. The butcher is holding the pig's ears (one of about half a dozen sets for sale) for Aidan. You can just see his face in the mirror to the left.
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