Angkor What?

My trip through Cambodia started off on precarious footing. I had been in contact with some family of my mother's colleague who were in Phnom Penh to show me around. However, in communicating, I had gotten the name of the bus company I was taking from Vietnam wrong and the bus had been late. Luckily, I had the phone number of my host, Kheng, handy and gave him a buzz. We eventually connected, and spent the next few days touring Phnom Penh with two of his cousins.

After arrival, we found a hotel for me and then were off to Wat Phnom, a famous hilltop temple in the center of the city. We followed this with my first western food in ages--pizza--in the heart of Phnom Penh. After what amounted to a long day, we called it quits early.

The next day we started early to the Tuol Sleng Museum, home of the infamous S-21 detention and torture site of the Khmer Rouge. If not chilling enough, we followed this with a trip to the Killing Fields outside of Phnom Penh. Here the Khmer Rouge would send the prisoners of centers like S-21 to be killed in their brutal attempt at social reengineering that cost the lives of 2 million Cambodians between 1975-1979. The devastation of this time in Cambodian history, I would come to find out, is still vivid in the minds of the eelder generation and a very important part of Cambodian culture. Children separated from parents, husbands separated from wives, millions moved out of cities and into the country to be worked morning to night in an effort to revamp Camobian rice production to create a fully self sufficient Cambodia. The massive devastation from the four short years of Khmer Rouge rule so severely stunted Cambodia's growth that it is only beginning to recover.

We lunched at a fabulous Khmer restaurant and had some great local cuisine before touring the large market in the center of the city. After a break to wait for Kheng's cousin Malin to join us, we took a river cruise and finished with more Khmer food, including what became my favorite dish in Camobida, ground pork sauteed with eggplant. Yum!

Our final day in Phnom Penh, we toured the colorful and ornate Royal Palace, checked out the largest pagoda in Phnom Penh, then lunched outside of Phnom Penh on some more fabulous Khmer food, including my first time eating frog, which was quite tasty! Finally, Kheng and I caught a bus out to Siem Reap, and I was ready to see some temples!

We arrived in the evening, grabbed some grub and crashed early, ready to get up at 4:30 to view the sunrise over Angkor Wat. And it was majestic! The view was magificent from the western courtyard as the brilliant red/orange sun slowly rose over the largest religious building in the world. We spent the next few hours touring this largest of temples before heading to the Angkor Thom complex a few kilometers away. This complex was the seat of the Khmer empire for a time after Angkor Wat, and it is home to the magnificent Bayon temple, built with many four-sided towers, each side depicting a different face of Buddha. After lunch we saw the Ta Pramh temple, known for being the location of the Anjelina Jolie film, Tomb Raider, but also notable for the massive trees reclaiming the temple walls. Kheng and I spent the afternoon at the Cambodian Culture Town in Siem Reap learning about Camobidan culture through a series of skits detailing Cambodian customs, including a wedding ritual. It was a great experience getting a brief, but informative glimpse into traditional Cambodian culture.

The second day: more temples. There are a vast number throughout the area, and I no doubt only saw a few. However, the second day was particularly enjoyalbe because the crowds were smaller in the morning as most visitors headed to Angkor Wat for the sunrise. Between temples, we stopped at the Land Mine Museum and learned that there are still many areas in Cambodia where the Khmer Rouge planted land mines that have still not been recovered. To this day, people are still being injured by newly discovered mines, as Cambodia races to rid the country of these hidden and long-forgotten instruments of death. Half a day of temples, followed by the Angkor National Museum to learn about the history of the Khmer empire in Southeast Asia, and we were off to Battambang, Kheng's hometown, for a quick visit.

We arrived in the evening, and after a much-needed shower, I met Kheng and his parents at my hotel and we headed for dinner. His father and mother, who own a rice processing factory, were very kind and accommodating hosts. We had Cambodian BBQ, beef fried rice and an excellent sweet fried corn dish that was another favorite of mine in Cambodia.

My only day in Battambang started with breakfast with Kheng and his parents, before Kheng and I headed off to a mountain outside the city to see the temple located on top. It was beautiful to look out from the temple to the Cambodian countryside, and we even had a chat with the monk in the temple. Of course, by "we" I mean Kheng, since it was a fully-Khmer conversation. I mostly smiled and nodded whenever the conversation seemed to include me. Outside the temple we checked out some cool caves, then made our way to a temple another hilltop temple with splended views. At the base of the temple, we lunched on fried eel and frog stew with rice, while laying in hammocks resting from the hot afternoon sun. We headed back toward Battambang stopping at the first Cambodian winery for a tasting of their fine red wine, brandy, grape juice and ginger juice, where we chatted with a vacationing German couple. After that, we checked out Kheng's future place of employment, his family's under-construction new rice factory where his father explained that the fields it is built on were in the middle of the fighting during the civil war that led to Khmer Rouge rule in 1975. Another reminder of the haunting past of this beautiful country. For our last dinner together, Kheng and I went to a restaurant locally known for its fried pig intestine, as well as a traditional Khmer fried fish delicacy. Both were delicious, and a fine meal to be my last in Cambodia. Good company and good food, I can't complain.

The final morning, I had breakfast with Kheng and his parents before they gave me a quick tour of downtown Battambang and then whisked me to the bus station to catch my passage to Bangkok. Five days was nowhere near enough, but with my still-recovering shoulder, I was eager to get on to Thailand and continue recovery.

Gooood Morning Vietnam!

Before I could get to Vietnam, I had to make the 26-hour bus ride from Luang Prabang to Hanoi. 26 hours in a reclining seat? No worries, thought I. Little did I know that this particular bus I would be taking only had reclining seats for about half the customers. The remaining passengers, of which I was one, slept underneath their seats, laying on the ground with about 6 inches of space separating our nose from the floor beneath their seats. At least we got pads to lay on. It was like riding in a coffin, with a neighbor.

After the arduous journey, I ended up in Hanoi late at night, with an aching arm and no idea how to get to my hostel. Finally wrangling a taxi, I arrived at my hostel exhausted and ready to sleep. More immediate than my urge to sleep, however, was one to eat. I hadn't had food since the morning bus stop some hours prior. With a recommendation from the hostel, I wandered over a few blocks to the street with the late night eats and grabbed a bowl of pho bo, or beef noodle soup. This was to be my first of many and it was fantastic! The rich broth and hearty pieces of beef with perfectly cooked noodles; I was in heaven, if only for a moment. I headed back to my hostel and crashed. Hard.

The next morning, greeted with cool, overcast weather, I set out to find the post office and mail some items home, as my heavy pack was a bit of a burden with my injury. After getting my heavy clothes and first round of souvenirs in a box ready to be shipped stateside, I took a tour of old Hanoi, wandering the alleys, seeing the large cathedral and admiring the lake in the center of the city.

More touring of Hanoi followed, including a visit to the closed Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, and some of the other famous sites in Hanoi, like the Temple of Literature and the Opera House, led into an evening of wandering the streets looking for dinner. I happened upon a corner cafe and ordered some beef fried rice and a Bia Hanoi, the local brew. Just my luck, an English DJ named Luke, a spanish fellow named Javi and a Belgian gal named Sophie sat next to me and we ended up checking out Hanoi for the night.

My last day in Hanoi I went to the train station to procure a ticket to the beach town of Nha Trang, some 24 hours by train south. I figured the fewer the stops, the better. And I think it was the right call. After getting my ticket, I wandered more of Hanoi, down to Lenin Park, named, of course, after the father of modern communism, Vladimir Lenin. Here I enjoyed a Bia Hanoi and rested as the afternoon sun faded and I awaited my train. On my way back to the hostel, I stopped by the large night market in the center of the Old Quarter, grabbed my last Hanoi pho bo and headed to catch the train.

The train journey was uneventful, until the last few hours when I was lucky enough to get some new companions in my compartment. Lisa, a native of central Vietnam, was headed back to Ho Chi Minh City with her father and niece. We struck up a conversation, started by a concerned query into the happenings that led to mangled limb, and talked until I had to depart at Nha Trang. We exchanged email addresses and kept in touch for when I made it to Ho Chi Minh City.

I spent the next five days bouncing between my air conditioned dorm room, the street vendors selling food and the wonderful beach. The views were magnificent of the green-blue water and the rich, white sand. The nightlife is the primary attraction to the city, but in my condition, I decided to forgo the festivities and rest. Even still, I had the luck of meeting a few good people in my hostel, including a Russian gal, Kiwi cousins, a Dutchman, a feisty American from Utah and her Dutch traveling partner and a Canadian. Good people, and we spent a few good dinners together exploring Nha Trang. After five days though, it was time I was on the move.

Headed to Ho Chi Minh City, my arm was still a nuisance, so I decided to continue to take it easy a few days before heading to Cambodia. The first night I checked out the night market and ended up meeting a few people from my hostel for dinner at one of the stalls. Amazing streetfood! And on the way back to the hostel, we stopped for a talent show featuring, among other performers, a cute five year old vocalist, pair of jugglers, and a gentleman taming some rather large snakes. The rest of my days in Ho Chi Minh City were spent reading in cafes enjoying the delicious Vietnamese coffee, which hit the spot on those hot Saigon afternoons. I also visisted the Vietnam War museum. A fascinating, and terribly tragic, part of American and Vietnamese history.

Because we exchanged email addresses on the train, I was able to meet up again with Lisa, from the train ride from Hanoi to Nha Trang, her father and her cousin and go to dinner. One night, we went to a fabulous Vietnamese BBQ restaurant and had some amazing venison, octopus, shrimp and goat which we grilled in the middle of our table, and followed with a nighttime tour of Ho Chi Minh City by scooter. Then, Lisa invited me to dinner the next night at her house with her father, who prepared the meal himself. It was incredible! Salad with egg and beef, pig ears with rice paper and a cooked beef dish, of course with rice. My mouth is watering just remembering the flavors!

After that, it was time for Cambodia. Off to Phnom Penh!

DisLaocated

My brief visit to Laos provided some of my best, and worst--or at least most exciting--travel experiences to date. In only 8 days, I met some incredible people and was the beneficiary of some very generous hospitality, while also experiencing, and causing, a good bit of worry.

After catching a last minute bus for Kunming to Jinghong, China, I was lucky to nab a ticket for the next morning's bus to Luang Nam Tha, Laos. Not originally part of my Lao itinerary, I am incredibly fortunate to have had this change of plan. But, as my bus to the border wasn't until the next day, I had a night to spare in Jinghong. Without Internet, I wandered the streets seeking accommodation. Unfortunately, all places were overpriced and the city was terribly cheesy, like a poorly done, Chinese version of Las Vegas. After failing to find reasonable accommodation, I retired to the comforts of the metal benches of the bus station for the evening.

In the morning, I hopped the bus southbound along with another American traveler on holiday from his job in Beijing. And as soon as we crossed the border, I was excited. The landscape changed to lush jungle almost immediately and you could sense the awaiting adventures in the warm tropical air.

I arrived in Luang Nam Tha and had dinner at the quaint night market with the same American fellow I met on the bus, as well as two other fellow arrivals; an Italian and a German. On offer was Papaya salad and sticky rice; Lao staples. And they did not disappoint. The papaya was freshly cut and mixed with a spicy red pepper native to Southeast Asia as well as some tomato and lime. Over dinner we discussed our planned itineraries for Laos and decided motor biking was all on our agendas.

We awoke the next morning and headed out, sans the Italian who had to work, and ventured north into the jungle toward Muang Sing. After climbing into the national park and passing small villages and a cool waterfall, we swooped into the plains surrounding Muang Sing and cruised along enjoying the fresh air and sights of the Lao countryside. Before lunch, we decided to follow the road outside of Muang Sing to see where it would lead. The answer: China. We nearly crossed the border at the small, locals-only checkpoint without realizing, but turned back in the nick of time. I had had enough of china for the moment, and didn't want to get stuck on the wrong side of that border. The rest of the day was spent exploring the villages and admiring nature's beauty as we cruised by at about 50km/hr. Or so I estimate, as my speedometer was broken, a commonality on all the scooters I rode in Laos. By day's end we had all vowed to scooter again the next day, trying a different route.

On the second day of exploring northern Laos we headed west from Luang Nam Tha toward Vieng Phouka. On the way, we stopped and explored a cave with the company of two Catalunyans traveling in Laos. We continued on to Vieng Phouka and lunched riverside on more sticky rice, papaya salad with rice, a grilled beef dish and some stir-fried vegetables. Good eats! Then, while wandering the village we happened upon a Lao wedding, where we were invited in by the bride and groom for some Lao dancing. As the evening approached, we bid farewell--and Congratulations--to our new friends and made our way back to Luang Nam Tha in time to return the scooters. Afterward, my fellow America and I hopped a rather bumpy night bus to Luang Prabang, the largest city in northern Laos.

While Luang Nam Tha had a distinctly rural feel, Luang Prabang was very colonial. Clearly influenced by the French colonization, baguette vendors and cafés littered the streets, interspersed with some fine temples. We wrestled up some accommodation and hit the streets to see what the city had to offer. After a few hours of walking, we retired for the afternoon to our fanned room before seeking out some Lao food for dinner near the brilliant, if repetitive, night market. Fried rice and Beerlao were on the menu, and that suited us just fine. On our way back, we met some Lao footballers who invited us to play bocce ball with them. Price of admission: Beerlao. We spent the evening getting whipped in bocce ball and debating the chances of Manchester United winning the Premier League.

We had heard about some waterfalls nearby and decided the next day that exploring them by scooter sounded much more interesting than a tuk-tuk, so we sought out Tim and his motorbike shop and got outfitted with two hot rides. After taking in Tad Sae waterfall, we were headed to Kuang Si waterfall when I had, shall we say, a boo-boo. After a fall on the motorbike, a passerby from Luang Prabang generously drove me to the Luang Prabang Provincial Hospital, where I was ever-so-lucky to discover a broken right collarbone. Initially expecting--and then hoping for--a dislocation, the bone was broken in two, and upon reading the x-rays, the technician, nurse, my incredibly generous new Lao friend and I let out a collective groan, "Ohhhh..." We might not have all spoken the same language, but we all knew what a broken bone looked like. A mildly humorous moment to lighten the mood a bit. A sling and a few pills later and I was released from the hospital. Luckily, my American friend was able to coordinate my scooter return to Luang Prabang and cart my clavical-ly impaired self back to the guesthouse to make what I knew would be an...upsetting...Skype call. Thankfully, my wonderful parents took it in stride and, though the experience has provided for a few sleepless nights for my mother, no doubt, they were generous in helping me decide on what to do next. After a day of weighing the pros and cons, I decided to keep traveling, though I knew it would be cumbersome during the healing process.

A few more days of loafing around Luang Prabang buying souvenirs and visiting the temples while the swelling subsided and I decided to head into the slightly more...modern conveniences of Hanoi, Vietnam.

But, as I would find out, getting there with two healthy collarbones would have been an experience in itself, and with only one was quite the trip.

Happy Chinese New Year

After a late night arrival to Zhangjiajie and a rather cold night, I was up early for my intended one-day stop in the city. In the lobby of the hostel I met three fellow travellers about to head to the national park to see the mountains. I was invited to join, and gladly accepted. So, an Englishman, a Dutchman, a Hungarian and myself headed to hop a bus for the hour-long ride out of town to the large national park. On the way the already overcast weather worsened and to our chagrin, the day was filled with fog--and lots of it. But, it was certainly eventful, nonetheless. As we got into the national park and started hiking, we were greeted first by signs instructing visitors not to feed the monkeys, and then by the monkeys themselves! What cool park companions, we thought. But then, they turned. Our friend Peter, the Hungarian, had bought bananas at the store, and in lieu of a backpack, only had them in the store's plastic bag. All of a sudden, five monkeys descended upon us and headed straight for Peter's bag. He managed to fend them off, but not without them putting up a fight! After that, we divied Peter's goods amongst our backpacks and remained on guard the rest of the day. Despite the weather, the national park was beautiful and had quite amazing rock formations--at least the ones we could see. We even crossed a "natural bridge" between two mountains that supposedly had nothing but 300 meters of air beneath it, though it all looked like fog to us. By the end of the day I knew I had to spend another day here and hope for some better weather.

I didn't get it. The next morning I woke and wanted to see the other park where the famed Heaven's Gate Mountain Cave is located. With an evening train, I decided not to chance the11km walk and just take the cable car up the mountain. That proved the prudent move as the road was closed most of the way up and I would not have made it! On my way up the mountain via the cable car, advertised as the longest in the world, the fog continued to roll in and eventually I spent some minutes dangling in nothing but white. It was a bit surreal, disorienting, and exciting! Once up, I headed into the park and walked along some concrete walkways hanging over the white abyss. I could not see the ground, but from pictures I saw, there was nothing but hundreds of meters of air under my feet. I don't know which is more spooky, seeing the ground, or not being able to. After a quick look and some lunch looking out into the abyss, I headed back to town to pack up and catch my train out of the city. I am sure Zhangjiajie is nice when the weather allows, but I unfortunately was unable to see the parks in their full grandeur.

After a 20 hour train ride to Kunming, followed by another 10 hour ride to Lijiang, I was finally at the foot of the hike I was much anticipating: Tiger Leaping Gorge. I arrived in the early morning and spent the day with two ladies I met in my hostel riding horses outside of town and checking out the old part of the city. Although touristy, there was some charm to the Old Town Lijiang, if you forgot that every other shop not only seemed the same, but in fact had the same sign, same products, likely the same owner and maybe even the same employees! The next day, we headed off to Tiger Leaping Gorge. And what a sight it was! The river laid hundreds of feet below and the opposing cliffs loomed hundreds, if not thousands, more above to until they topped out in rough jagged peaks. Brilliant! And alog the way, we met a few fine folks from Israel, France, and Scotland who shared our guesthouse accomodations and marveled in the splendor with us. The second day of the hike was shorter in destance, but the rigorous climb down the steep steps to the raging river itself was quite the effor. And despite being in the middle of the dry season, the power of the water was still quite impressive as it moved through the narrowest part of the gorge.

After hopping the bus back to Lijiang, Henriette, my roommate/hiking buddy/temporary travel partner invited me to join her and two friends on a trip to Lugu Hu, a lake located a few hours north of Lijiang for a couple of days. After the windy ride, of which some fellow passengers were unable to stomach, we arrived at the lake in calm and mid-70's weather. However, as soon as we arrived, a strong wind arrived and remained for the duration of our stay. But, the weather was still beautiful and we spent the one full day riding bikes along the shores of the lake and visiting villages. In one village we met Shao Yan, a young man who invited us to lunch despite his busy schedule preparing for the New Year festivities. We had fresh barbecued pork and amazing homemade caramel corn and learned about some of the local culture. What a brilliant time!

After heading back to Lijiang, I decided to tag along with the fine crew of Fiona, Lodo and Henriette to observe Chinese New Year in the small village of Shaxi. We left early the next day in a shared cab to Jianchuan and then on to Shaxi where the weather was threatening to sprinkle. But after a late afternoon drizzle, the sky cleared just in time for the New Years festivities. In the run up to the New Year's festivities, families take cooked pigs and chickens to the local temple to pray for a good upcoming year and then retire with their families to observe the holiday. In the evening, local villagers, mainly young boys and girls, assembled for a traditional dance in the town square and lit off firecrackers to celebrate the New Year. At the stoke of 12, we headed to the river and lit off fireworks to great celebration, though mainly by foreigners!i was under the impression that chinese new year was rather rambunctious, but in fact, most Chinese celebrate at home with their families, and so the evening was rather quiet, despite the copious amounts of baijo consumed! We finished the night chatting with a milanese restaurateur in Shaxi eating amazing fresh spaghetti! Buona sera! And Xinnian kue-le, or Happy New Year!

The next day we wandered the streets and soaked in the sun in Shaxi, which is a beautiful, quaint little town poised for growth in tourism. Though that will stimulate their local economy, it will likely deteriorate from the charm as even the posters of planned construction looks distinctly kitschy and unauthentic. Oh well, great place to spend a wonderful Chinese New Year with new friends!

That afternoon Fiona, Lodo and I headed to Dali and onto Kunming on the overnight train before parting ways as I headed onward to Laos, and them back to home in Shanghai. To my despair, the bus to Laos was sold out so the ever so sweet Fiona helped me secure a seat to Jinghong, a border town where I could find my way onward to Laos. But hey, it's all part of the adventure! Next stop: Laos!

Enter the Dragon

Beijing brought the first true culture shock of my trip. After Japan and Korea, which are both fairly westernized, landing in Beijing was a bit overwhelming. First, very few people speak English, or even understand any words, which makes the challenge of travel all the more exciting. However, as I warmed to Beijing, I do not think it reciprocated. Maybe it was the weather--a continuation of the biting wind in Seoul--or simply that I did not feel a connection to the city. Either way, five days in Beijing was plenty.

After a short hop from Seoul and train ride into Beijing, I followed the hostel-provided directions to the Dongsi metro stop in the ChongDeng district of the city. The directions proceeded to guide me down what I perceived to be a particularly dodgy alley, or hutong as they are known in Beijing. I would find out throughout my time in Beijing that these hutongs are the lifeblood of the city. Upon arrival at my hostel, I dropped my gear and decided to take a wander through the city and get some grub after a day of traveling. I started in the Dongsi area, and wound up at what appeared to be a Chinese fast food joint. Good enough, I thought, I was famished. After miming to the waitress my selection from the picture menu, I found myself with a plate of rice and some mysterious variety of meat. I would get used to this during my stay in China. And, pleasantly enough, it turned out to be a fanstastic meal. Energized, I continued to wander the streets. After declining the offer of two "students" who wanted to "practice their English" at what would just-so-happen to be an overpriced cafe nearby (or so I was warned by the hostel), I decided that a metro ride would be worth my time. At 2 Yuan ($0.30) to anywhere in Beijing, I decided to check out the center of the city. Where to go, I wondered, and checked the subway map. The first stop to catch my eye was "Tianenman Square West" and I thought, that looks like my stop. After negotiating the metro and hopping off, I was greeted with a nice wide avenue in the heart of Beijing. While heading in the direction of The Square, I was crossing a street as indicated by the green light ahead of me shaped like a person in mid-stride, and to my suprise, I heard a loud horn and turned to see a city bus bearing down on me at full speed. It slowed--and I sprinted--which allowed me to just dodge it and make it to the safety of the opposing sidewalk. Four hours in China and I was almost roadkill. Ahh, back into the chaos. Another country with no (consistently) obsevrved rules regarding traffic. Yes! No more orderliness, no more rule-following. That's for suckers. So sums up my time in the cities of China. I made it to the square, which was complete with motionless military guards and swarms of policemen, and quite a site it was. The big portrait of Chairman Mao in the midst of the large red gateway leading to the Forbidden City and flanked by rows of bleachers for the elite to view the parades in the square. All lights and glamor, quite a sight. Some more venturing and I was spent, and decided to turn in for the evening.

Day 2 in Beijing was a flurry. After heading back to Tianenman to get a glimpse during the day, I cruised through the Forbidden City before grabbing a bite to eat down the street. Another restaurant, another meal of questionable ingredient, though this one I am sure was chicken... maybe. Post-meal, I bundled up and headed to the Temple of Heaven, which according to the map was just south of Tianenman. I must have misread the map, because it was quite the walk! After stumbling my way there, I hustled through the park checking the main sights. As the sun, and with it the temperature, dropped, I decided a quick look was all I needed. So, I bundled up and headed back to the hostel, preparing for an exciting next day.

On Wednesday, I embarked on a journey to the Great Wall at Mutianyu. This is supposed to be a less-frequented area of the wall, while maintaining the beauty. And it did not disappoint. After hopping a metro, hour-long bus and negotiating a cab to get me the last thirty minutes, I arrived at the Wall mid-morning. It was spectacular. A light snow began to fall, and clouds were ever-present, but the sight was majestic no less. The weather brought a different element to the scene, almost a mystery. Who lies waiting in the foggy hills to the north? Invaders? Mongols? Protect the Empire! Luckily, no attackers on my watch. As I mosied along the top of the wall, I took in the sight of the different towers and long-meandering wall fading into the misty fog. And then, just for a moment, the clouds parted just enough to see the wall snake across the hills into the distance. And then, as quick as it came, the view was gone and replaced with the dense fog of winter. After a few hours on the wall, I trekked back down the hillside to my waiting taxi to get back to Huairou, and then onward to Beijing by bus. By then, it was dinner time, and I scouted the hutong for some good looking fare. At this point, I had come to accept the fact that I would be bound by picture menus in my time in China, at least for the most part. I found my joint, and as with previous meals, entered the establishment, greeted the proprietor with "Neehao" and proceeded to point at the picture of the food I wanted and smile. Worked like a charm. The lady who ran the restaurant was very kind, and quickly placed the order with the kitchen--which was located in a closet in the back of the small room--and I was all set. I proceeded to chow down on the amazing bowl of rice, chicken (again, I think), cooked vegetables, spicy chili sauce and a fried egg in no time flat and was more than delighted with the meal. And all for $2USD. I dig that.

Thursday was a good day. After chatting with a lovely Aussie gal named Alice who was staying in the same dorm room as myself, I was determined to make it to the Summer Palace. This was across Beijing and on a confusing metro stop. So confusing that I completely forgot it when I transferred lines and, being the over-confident navigator, did not write it down beforehand. I got off on what I thought to be the right stop, but I swung and missed. Badly. I was assured there would be signs, but there were none. So, instead I found myself on the north side of Beijing perusing the largest electroincs market I had ever seen. Seven floors, each with a different set of products (i.e. cameras, mobile phones, computers, electronics components) all of which were undoubtedly of exceptional quality and legitmacy (cue sarcasm), and with a retail footprint the size of a football fied. It was enermous, and a great sight. From the sheer volume of merchandise to the pushy salesmen, whom you learn to ignore and laugh at, the place was quite a show. But, with abject failure comes wound-licking. So, I headed back to the hostel and to a Skype session with my family. After some Skyping and internet research, I found the appropriate metro stop, headed out and made it to the Summer Palace in the afternoon. This was probably the sight in Beijing that I connected with most. It is a grand palace situated on the slope of a hill overlooking an incredible lake. Since Beijing has been undergoing sub-zero (Celsius) temperatures for months now, the lake was well-frozen. And so there were plenty of people out for a walk-on-water. I partook in the fun, and ventured out a few hundred yards onto the lake before my poor planning in the wardrobe department led me to retreat out of the biting winds. I only stayed at the Summer Palace for two hours, but could have admired the beauty of the place for many hours more. In the evening, I met up with a friend of a friend in the foreigner district on the east side of Beijing. The area was pretty cool, if a bit quiet ahead of the New Year festivities, but had loads of cool bars all around.

Friday was a lazy day, filled with reading, writing, skyping and chatting through the day. And that suited me just fine, just fine indeed. For dinner, my new Aussie friend Alice and I headed to another restaurant down the hutong to try something new. I went with the duck. Yes, I had duck in Beijing. No, I did not have Beijing Duck. But it was grand nonetheless.

On my final day in Beijing, I started by heading back to the electronics market to procure an unlocked mobile phone as a backup to use in some of my longer-term, and more remote, destinations. I haggled my way to a cheap Nokia phone. For lunch, I headed back to the same nice lady from a few days prior who roused her napping cook to rummage up the same rice bowl. And it was just as good as before. Finding myself with a few hours before my train to Shanghai, I took the opportunity to check out the otherside of the hutong where my hostel was located. Previously, I had only visited the west side nearest the metro stop as I was coming and going, but the east side proved just as interesting, if not more so. I found many more street food vendors selling the delicacies of Beijing, and even a cafe. Unlike Seoul, the cafes are not part of the culture in Beijing, and China for that matter. Budo Cafe, with its overpriced and subpar cappuccinos, was a welcomed sight in Beijing. I killed an hour there, then headed back to the hostel to collect my things and head off to catch my train to Shanghai. The station had military soldiers on hand during boarding to make sure no one was unruly. And they were needed. The citizens of Beijing, and China as a whole, do not bother with queuing. Everyone mobs forward at the same time, and somehow everyone gets through. It does make transiting on the metro very interesting, because although the lines on the ground suggest you should wait on the outside and allow passengers to disembark before getting on the metro, the rules are rarely followed making it every man for himself as you push and squirm your way free. But, back to the train. I had a soft sleeper, which is typically a four-bed compartment with a closed door. To my delightful surprise, there were only two beds and a private bathroom. Score! To my further delight, no one had reserved the bottom bunk, so the compartment was all mine. Score again! But then, on a bumpy and restless ride, I caught a cold. A parting shot from Beijing, I suppose.

I left the drab, utilitarian and ultimately uninteresting metropolis of Beijing for the bright, burning lights, and reasonable temperatures of Shanghai. Shanghai felt like a relief. It was significantly warmer with temps in the high-40's to 50's and you could feel the culture of the people oozing throughout the streets. Maybe it was the weather in Beijing, but even the people seemed cold. Shanghai breathed with life. My first day, I wandered the city. Hard. I started near my hostel and the famous Nanjing Road shopping street, and, after catching a glimpse of the Pearl Tower, followed it to the river bank boardwalk called the Bund. I walked the boardwalk and chatted briefly with an elderly Chinese fellow who had only good things to say about America to my delight, and took in the skyline view of Shanghai. I then took the metro across to the Pearl Tower side of the city. After walking around the financial district, which was remarkably quiet for a Monday, likely for the national two-week holiday for Chinese New Year, I headed to the Pearl Tower and admired the architecture of this bustling city. My favorite building was one of the taller, but not tallest, and reminded me of a mix between the krypton structure in the remade Superman movie of a few years ago, and Megatron, from Transformers. It has jagged edges and sharp angles, and a large point at the top. Quite a building, and located in the heart of the financial district, across the street from the Four Seasons containing a two-story Ferrari/Maserati dealership. Communism, eh?

My second day in Shanghai was quite interesting. I decided I had seen the touristy stuff, as there are not too many landmarks in Shangha and I wasn't in the museum mood, and headed for the north side of the city. I followed the riverside boardwalk north and continued on after it ran out of breath. I ended up in a large residential area with lots of apartment buildings airing their freshly washed laundries out of every window. And I stopped for a wonderful lunch! I went to a shop and went through the routine of a quick "Neehao," smiling, pointing at the picture and waiting. Only this time she laughed. I didn't know what to say. Luckily, two young Chinese gentlemen spoke some English and helped us bridge the gap. I'm not sure what the issue was, so I just told them I was interested in ordering some food, and the dish pictured just there to be precise, and they helped sort the matter. After that, smooth sailing. I ended up sitting with the two gentlemen, and discussing where I was from and what they were doing. They work in international business selling things to African countries. They wanted to know what I was doing, and they proceeded to tell me about their hometown and how long they have been in Shanghai working. Quite amiable fellows, I would say. After lunch, I paid my bill and offered a thank you, or "xie xie," to which I received another well-intentioned laughing at. Time to move on. I walked for the rest of the day through this fascinating north side admiring the culture and receiving a fair amount of stares. In the evening, I headed back to the riverside boardwalk to admire the skyline by night. Truly awe-inspiring. Entire sides of skyscrapers are transformed into advertisements with the most common being "I <3 S H" much in the same style as the iconic NY t-shirt. After more walking and eating, I packed it in for the evening, trying to recover from the enduring cold I developed on the train.

The third day brought more walking to a new part of the city, this time to the southwest. At the recommendation of a Chinese student staying in the same room, I headed to a park pretty deep in SW Shanghai. After a bit of perousing the park, I found there was a statue of two gentlemen who did not appear to be of Chinese origin. Lo and behold, it was the good ol' boys Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, immortalized in stone in the park. After another bit of browsing around the park, I hit the streets some more to investigate this part of the city. More culture, and fascinating alley ways. Shanghai has the most intriguing alleys. I was snapping photos of all I could until I realized these are people's homes and I would find it odd and potentially discomforting if someone went around taking pictures of every house in my neighborhood, so I decided to be more discreet. The furrow-browed old lady mumbling to herself as she stared me down outside of one of the alleys helped me reach this conclusion.

After a full day of wandering, I am beat. Tomorrow brings another day of exploring and then a flight to Zhangjiajie--which I am completely unable to pronounce to a Chinese person--to see the mountains that supposedly inspired Avatar's floating mountains including a very famous one called Tianmen Shan, or Heaven's Gate Mountain. And on that note, good night!

Baby it's Ceould Outside

My first impression of Seoul was that it is cold. Really cold. As I would learn later, Koreans have a saying, "Seoul is colder than Moscow and hotter than Bangkok." But, it was just my luck as the temperature shaped my trip, and for the better no less!

I touched down at Incheon International Airport on a bitter Tuesday morning after a long night in Narita, and unfortunately had little time to admire the airport that greeted me, for it is one of the nicest I have ever seen! I proceeded to hop on the remarkably convenient airport train into the city of Seoul, and to my stop, the Hongik University station. From there, I found my way to my hostel and crashed for a few hours.

After an evening stroll exploring the neighborhood, I met up with my friend Jennifer, a native of Seoul. She was an incredible hostess throughout my time in Seoul and truly made the experience unforgettable. Our first stop that frosty Tuesday night was Korean barbecue. Yum. We barbecued pork on the grill in the middle of our table and had a spicy stew over rice at this little local's place in the Hongdae district where I was staying. We proceeded to another meal, at another restaurant, of chicken in a sweet and spicy sauce served piping hot with cheese. Another local joint, this one was complete with an army theme including beer mugs shaped like canteen style infantry cups. The food was amazing and the beer washed it down nicely. After the second round, Jennifer and I parted ways as the hour was getting late and she had to work the next day.

Wednesday in Seoul was filled by a visit to Gyeongbokgung palace in Seoul. A fellow American staying at the hostel named Dan and I set out in the morning. Our first stop was the electronics market at Yongsan to procure Dan a new camera. Impressive place of multiple floors filled with electronics. The first floor was only cameras and was jammed full. Regular point and shoot, DSLR, lenses big and small, and even a section for binoculars of blatantly unnecessary size! Then we hit the palace and roamed for a bit through the sights mainly admiring the intricate decoration on all levels of the palace. A quick browse through the National Folk Museum within the palace grounds including a chance encounter with a group from Beacon Hill, Seattle natives en route to Taiwan, and we set out for lunch. We somehow ended up near a famous shopping street and lunched on kimchee soup and beef bulgogi. Quite good. After lunch, we wandered back to the hostel to await dinner. Jennifer invited Dan and I to Gangnam--yes, that's THE Gangnam--for a traditional Korean dinner with a friend from her work and her sister Bo, who I had met previously over Korean BBQ when Jennifer visited her in Seattle. Mmm, it was fantastic! Multiple courses of small dishes of pork, ahi, kimchee and more all accompanied with rice. Then we headed out for some local soju and makkoli, a rice-based hard alcohol and wine, respectively. Both were great! Soju goes down smooth but with a bit of an aftertaste of Clorox, while makkoli is just amazing. A cloudy, heavy wine, the taste is very nice and comes in different flavors, the best of which was chestnut in my opinion. After that, we retired for the evening.

Thursday was quite an exciting day taking in one of the most touristic activities in Korea: the DMZ. The border dividing North and South Korea, known as the De-Militarized Zone, or DMZ, reaches across the entire Korean Peninsula around the 38th parallel. Tours run daily to visit famous sights rich with historical significance and even a glimpse into North Korea. The morning started at Freedom Bridge just outside the DMZ where the last prisoner exchange occurred before the ceasefire agreement. Then we visited the third tunnel found between north and South Korea. It was found by the South Koreans in the 1970's and contained North Korean-made tools and which appeared to originate in North Korea, who curiously claimed the South had dug it themselves. Fascinating. After that, we headed to Dora Observatory and took in the view of North Korea. As it was a very foggy day, we could not see much across the plain into North Korea, and henceforth were unable to see the tallest flagpole in the world, which flies the DPRK flag everyday. Go North Korea... Finally we stopped at Dorasan Station, the northernmost train station in South Korea. It was rebuilt with very modern train lines and looks odd as it is quite deserted. However, the intention is to encourage, and prepare for, reunification with the north, if and when that can be achieved. From there we eased back to Seoul and rested for the day. On Friday, I went deep undercover investigating the cafe scene around the Hongdae district of Seoul. My cover was as a fellow university student, complete with ipad and earbuds and a few books. Little did the unsuspecting students know I was just on Facebook and writing about traveling. No homework! Haha! But I digress. The cafe scene is very lively, and probably the most interesting I've seen outside of the Pacific Northwest. I found four of the most amazing cafés with great atmosphere within a square mile, and those were only the ones I stopped at. Many more beckoned, but the day wore on and I headed back to the hostel for some evening entertainment. Dan, two swedes, an American guy teaching English in Korea and an American serviceman stationed in Korea, and myself went out for a night on the town. We had a couple of beers at a bar before hitting a Korean night club. The club was packed! And playing the good stuff. Electronica and American hip hop. Loved the dancing, reminded me of my European escapades of studying abroad. But after a bit, Dan and I called it an early night and headed back to prepare for the Buddhist temple stay we were going to the next day.

On Saturday, Dan and I awoke and went to join Jennifer, her friend Sera from her work and another friend Kieran, an Irishman teaching English in Korea for lunch before going to a Buddhist temple overnight to learn the way of the Monks. The temple was up in the hills north of Seoul and after a short hike we arrived at the the gates of the temple which would be our home for the next 24 hours. We changed into Buddhist attire and proceeded to receive orientation and a tour of the temple before our vegetarian meal. After dinner ad mediation, we bowed, or prostrated, 108 times to repent for the "delusions of the mind" including for valuing material things and hurting animals, among many others (106 others, to be exact). Now, this isn't your regular bend at the waist kind of bow. We're talking a full bow in which you touch your forehead to the ground. Afterwards, on the way back down to the main temple, we all gripped the handrail as our legs were a bit wobbly. A 9pm bedtime preceded a 4:30am alarm of a monk banging on a wood drum.

After wakeup, we meditated, ate breakfast, which included drinking of your dishwater, and participated in counsel work around the temple. Finally, after a brief hike for some great views of the temple and hillside and lunch, the time had come to leave the humble comforts of the temple. The five of us said goodbye to the temple staff, the nice monk who took excellent care of us and the new friends we met, including an American brother and sister participating in the temple stay as well. What a great experience! On the way back to Seoul, we headed for an old shopping district near the presidential palace (named The Blue House for its blue roof) and ended up sampling the dessert fare of Korea. Amazing rice cakes, teas and a cake with sweet potato ice cream. What a treat! But that was just the beginning. From there, we headed to a large market in Seoul to have beef sashimi (and soju), followed by traditional Korean pancakes, chicken feet, pig skin, pig ears, pig feet, and fish cakes (all accompanied with soju and makkoli). All were quite good! And, for the main event, we had ate octopus... which was still moving. In fact, it was hard to remove from the plate because the tentacles stuck so hard to the plate. But it was tasty. The smaller tentacles were eaten raw, but the larger pieces were mixed with vegetables and a spicy sauce and grilled together. My mouth is watering as I think back on it! Of course, all of this accompanied with soju. We finished the night off at an irish pub in the Itaewon district of Seoul, near the American military base. A few beers later and we were all feeling the 4:30am wake up, so we called it a night then.

What an amazing time in Seoul. I must say I am grateful to the wonderful hospitality of Jennifer and her friends, whom I am lucky to call my own friends now (at least if Facebook counts...) as well as the new ones we made throughout the week. Amazing experience all around, and one I will never forget. Now, the airplane to Beijing beckons, and I am off to a new adventure in China!

Land of the Rising Sun

What a week in Japan! Of course, to see Japan, as with any country, requires more than a single week (and sometimes a lifetime), but I certainly had some great experiences jammed into these few days.

The trip started with a bit of a stutter, as I found my traveling rhythm amongst the chaos of Tokyo. However, the most startling thing that I noticed upon arrival is the relative quiet of the city. For so many people, and such a busy place, it is remarkably quiet. Of course there are louder areas like Shibuya, but unlike most other cities I have visited, few people use horns when driving, and there are few conversations occurring in public places. While Tokyo is a very orderly place, it definitely maintains a chaos throughout.

I gathered my travel rhythm over the course of a few days in Tokyo seeing the sights from Roppongi Hills to the Imperial Palace and Asakusa temple. Never have I been to such a serene place as the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace. It was so quiet in the heart of such a large city and had an incredibly peaceful atmosphere. Also, I stumbled my way through meals, at one point standing in the middle of a small restaurant looking around for a menu before a nice lady working there kindly communicated to me that I had to "order" through the vending machine and hand my ticket to the cook at the window. Genius system, by the way! After a few days of exploring Tokyo, it was off to Osaka.

After a quick ride on the bullet train, I met up with an old pal, Ivan. The kind soul that he is hosted me for two nights as we toured Osaka and Hoshida, the town that he lives in. Osaka is a beautiful, lively city, but I preferred Hoshida. As Ivan had to teach English, I toured the city a bit myself by getting lost (and then found) amongst the windy streets of this Osaka suburb. Then, the pastor of the church that Ivan is missioning at, Pastor Tanaka, invited us to dinner with his family. We had Okonomiyaki, an Osaka specialty, and it was incredible! His wife and four children were very nice as well! Then, I helped out in Ivan's english class for an hour, conversing with Hiroshi and Masuka, an elderly couple with a passion for Japanese history and learning English. Very fascinating conversation!

The next day, I bid Ivan farewell and headed off to Kyoto to see some temples. And temples I saw! I nabbed a day pass on the city bus and hopped on to see where it would take me. Using a handy map of the temples and bus routes from my hostel, I stopped off at temple whose name looked familiar. It turned out to be Kinkakuji, a golden temple that Ivan had told me about, but didn't remember exactly how to get to. What a sight! The three story Buddhist temple is wrapped in gold and shines brilliantly in the afternoon sun. Though crowded with tourists, it was an amazing sight to take in. The next morning I got up bright and early to catch sunrise at the most famous temple in Kyoto, Kiyomizu. It sits on the side of a hill just outside of Kyoto and looks down upon the city, and the combination of the temple and adjoining park make for quite an experience. The crisp, clean air and rising sun sure didn't hurt either! At midday, I headed back for my last jaunt through Tokyo.

On my last day, I met up with Stephane, a friend who attended Audencia, the school I studied at in France, and who is now working in Tokyo. We met in Shibuya, near the most photographed intersection in the world, and had kaiten sushi. But this was not your average belt sushi. The freshness of seafood is unmatched by anything I have ever had. And that's coming from a Seattleite, no less! Heck, even the rice tasted better than any rice I've ever had! The whole meal, including the eel, was quite memorable indeed. I'm no sushi connoisseur, but this certainly was the best sushi I have ever had. After a few beers, I decided to call it a night. Maybe still adjusting to the time change, but I just wasn't quite in the right state for a night out in Tokyo. Maybe next time.

I decided ahead of time to take it easy on my final day in Tokyo, and I'm glad I did. I woke up to a perfectly Seattle day to remind me of home. It was mid-40's and misting heavily. Ahh, it felt good. I sought out a cafe I had passed the day before, and to my luck remembered just where it was. At Cafe Kohana (which I highly recommend if you're ever in Tokyo!) I ate a breakfast of salad, potato salad, yogurt and toast with my coffee while enjoying the sites of Tokyo. However, the weather quickly began to turn as the rain became snow. Initially it didn't stick. But, by midday the snow was unrelenting and it began to accumulate. And fast. Meanwhile, I was discussing the weather and our mutual interest in each other's hometowns with the proprietor of Cafe Kohana, Kohanawa. I suspect, though didn't think to confirm until after I left, that he named the cafe after himself. Fair enough! A multi-instrumentalist, lyricist and bandleader (as well as cafe proprietor), Kohanawa is a fan of Nirvana and Soundgarden, two of Seattle's more famous musical acts. He hails from Hokkaido, the northernmost island in Japan. Known for its beautiful scenery, I would have liked to have made it there on this trip, but alas must save it for the next time I find myself in the Land of the Rising Sun!

After conversing with Kohanawa, the time came for me to head to the airport, as my next adventure in South Korea lay just hours away. As I headed out, with the snow accumulating ever faster, I slogged through the sloppy streets of Tokyo to the catch the hour-plus long train out to Narita International Airport. After the train was delayed, I grew suspicious of how the rapidly deteriorating weather may affect my chances of flying, but remained optimistic. Unfortunately, my suspicions were confirmed as I reached the check-in counter at Narita to find that my flight was delayed from 7:30pm to 6:00 am the next morning. Ouch. Further investigation found that all other flights to Seoul were full, and the hotels nearby were booked as well, so the fine folks at Delta and Narita Int'l would be providing us with sleeping bags and air mattresses. Double and triple ouch. As I write, mine lay unopened next to me, and as the hour approaches one in the morning, I must bid the blog adieu and shall hope for a few hours of shut-eye before the early morning trek to Seoul. Can't wait for the next adventure!

P.S. Photos from Japan are up on Flickr at http://www.flickr.com/photos/djohansson89/sets
Enjoy!