Not Vacationing

Countless people have commented on how envious they are that I can travel like I do.  And while I acknowledge the fact that I am blessed to have the means and flexibility to jet-set to so many places, it is impossible to get people that have not traveled for long periods of time to understand the difference between traveling and vacationing.  Traveling for months at a time is completely different than vacationing for a few weeks in a place.  When you ‘travel’, it becomes a lifestyle.  You have good days and bad days; you have logistics days, and adventure days, and break days, and tourist days.  You can’t explain to others why merely being in a so-called ‘top’ location isn’t the enjoyment of traveling. 

I sometimes feel guilty when I am in one of these classic tourist locations and find myself thinking ‘I have seen better’.  I contemplate ‘why do I continue to travel and spend this money if I am not being excited by where I am at’.  But then it happens.  I meet the right person; or I fall upon the right place at the right time. It is usually not in a guide book. It isn’t an attraction that everyone gets to experience.  It is what I think of when I hear the statement ‘it is the journey, not the destination’. I fear too few people truly understand this statement.

Just when I am struggling with the trials and tribulations of ‘traveling’, which trust me, do exist; I am saved.  I find myself dancing in a street parade in Puno, watching the most amazing simultaneous sunset and moon rising in Bolivia, trekking with a new-found friend from some corner of the world, or experiencing the jovial, random folkloric music of a Peña in Argentina.  Sometimes it is an inner peace that soothes your soul of the daily stresses, sometimes it is an energy that fills you from your most bored depths, and sometimes it is just the right type of distraction when you are feeling rather pathetic. 

This is what ‘traveling’ is!  Vacations are great for taking a break from reality.  Traveling is to experience new realities.  But as with all reality, the 'real' part is not always glamorous and exciting.  Maybe the search is just to find the right reality that provides more happiness and excitement than it does boredom and stress.  When you find it, envy of other realities stops.

Inca Brilliant Craziness

The Inca were obviously a smart civilization. It is apparent in the thought and skill seen in their design and architecture. The time that Kim and I spent hiking the Inca trails to Choquequirao and Machu Picchu was educational, beautiful and fascinating. But it also left me sometimes wondering.... what the hell were they thinking!
We only hiked two of the main trails, and in those 8 days of trekking nearly 100 kilometers (over 60 miles) we climbed approximately 19,000 vertical feet up, and 21,000 down. It is hard to calculate exactly because we learned of the term 'Andean flat'; meaning since you start and stop at the same altitude over a fairly short distance, they don't count the numerous rolling ups and downs you have to do in between :-/
So I understand their beliefs about the sacredness of the mountains, and the sun and moon and earth, etc. But someone needed to scratch their head when they looked at some of the locations they picked to built their cities and places of worship. And on top of everything else, we found out that only the 'supposedly better' upper-class used these exhausting mountain trails. The common people were not 'privileged' enough to travel the elevated paths. They had to stay on the flat, easy paths along the river valleys. I bet they felt so deprived....
All joking aside, while it was one of the hardest cumulative sets of hikes I have done, it was well worth the effort. And I was grateful to have done it with Kim. We did a great job of alternating the times when we struggled, so we could provide support to each other when we needed it. 

The Ecuadorian Way

Beside the Galapagos, the rest of Ecuador was rather unspectacular, as far as traveling goes.  Guayaquil is just a run down port city.  I did enjoy Montañita, a small beach town an hour north; where I got to party a little, and get in some surfing.
Quito had a bit more culture, but still only took a day to experience. Once Kim arrived, we decided we wanted to get out of the city and have a taste of the Amazon. We booked a short 3 days excursion. While we did get to see all of the things in the Amazon we were hoping for (monkeys, caimans, river dolphin, sloth, toucans, frogs, spiders, boa snake, etc.), the organization and professionalism of the tour left a bit to be desired.
Which leads me to my short rant. It bugs me when everyone in an area uses the saying 'welcome to.......(Ecuador for example)' to make reference to the poor process in which things run in the area. This implies that everyone knows that how things are done is not the best way, but you just have to accept it. Well if people would just not accept it, and expect that things were done better, then they would be. One of my biggest pet-peeves is people just accepting stupidity.
Ok, I am done. On to more travels :-)

Sea Lions and Sharks and Rays.....Oh My!!

Seven days of scuba diving in the Galapagos Islands (uploading the big video files is very slow, so it will take awhile before I get most of the pics and videos posted).  Need I say more?!?!
Well, I guess I should say a little more.
I decided to do the 7 day live-aboard boat, because that is the only option that allows you to dive around the two furthest north islands, Darwin and Wolf islands. This is where the highest concentration of hammerhead sharks are, and the most likely to see whalesharks and other large marine animals. And wow, were they right. I literally got to swim with well over 1000 hammerheads in my 19 dives.  I also saw 2 whalesharks, a couple of manta rays and eagle rays, countless turtles, dolphins (both on the boat and while diving), tuna, sea iguanas, tons of playful sea lions, and a curious penguin. Plus a land excursion to visit the lava tubes and giant tortoises.

Starting South America

When I did my around the world trip, it did not include South America, as it doesn't tie in well without forcing you to fly back through the US. Plus, I thought it deserved its own trip.  So that is what I have now started.
It is scheduled to be a 6 month excursion, from Sept 2014 to March 2015.  But anyone that remembers my last trip knows that I am not very good at keeping schedules.  So we will see how this works out.
This also leaves Antarctica as the only continent I have yet to set foot on.  Maybe there is a chance to make the hop across Drake Passage and check that off the list as well.  But I am not too hopeful.

Tubing !

With all the calm countryside and temple exploration over the last few weeks, it is time for some old school, carefree partying; so I must stop in Vang Vieng, Laos, home of the river tubing bar crawl. The first time I saw the river I immediately thought of the crazy spring break locations. But this place parties like this all year-round. There are a dozen or so bars that line both sides of a river for about a kilometer. There are dance floor decks, rope swings, zip-lines, water slides, mud volleyball pits scattered among them all. You drink at one bar, then jump on a raft, of just straight into the river (usually after flipping off of a rope) to the next; then repeat until after dark. Then you go back to the town, get into dry clothes, and hit the bars there. It was a long four days.
I should mention that I met a great group of Swedish guys (and one girl) that were some of the most carefree partiers I have ever met. I hung out with them through many buckets of ‘Vodka, sprite and redbull’ during my time in Vang Vieng.
I did take one afternoon and do a nice cave exploration and kayaking trip down the river. But of course we had to stop off for a few beers when we kayaked through the bar section of the river.
And good thing nothing ever runs on time in this part of the world. I woke up my last morning, after a late night of partying, at 9:50 am and was still able to throw my stuff in my backpack, jump on the back of a scooter and make it to the bus station to catch the 10 am bus out; because it didn’t actually leave until 10:20.

The Value of a Dollar

After the astounding boat ride to Battambang we were met with the usual flood of taxi and tuk tuk drivers nearly crawling over each other to beg to give you a ride. It seemed that most of the traveling passengers were in the same boat as me (well, they were all in the same boat as me, but you know what I mean) in that they did not arrange lodging before they arrived. So I joined several in a hotel shuttle van that offered the ride for free into town just so you would look at their rooms and consider staying. The hotel did not have a room I liked, so I decided to look elsewhere. As I begin to the leave the hotel to walk and find alternatives, I am offered a ride on the back of a motorbike (scooter) by a young Cambodian man. Hence my chance encounter with Dollar Sam (and yes, that is his real name). I am very skeptical as, again, the last several months have driven me to be. He assures me it is for free; so I assume his motive is to take me to a specific hotel that he will get some credit for bringing me to. But he doesn’t. He genuinely takes me to a few different hotels as I tell him what my criteria are. Once I find a hotel he does tell me, in as sincere a way as possible when you are asking for work, that he would appreciate if I would use him as my guide and driver the next day for going to explore the temples. He seems to know his stuff, and has been quite helpful, so I agree.
There is something about Dollar that is likeable. He isn’t the smooth talking salesman, per say, but his innocent way of trying to be persistent works. But it is not until I begin to understand his story that I feel the gravitational pull he has on me. When he picks me up on his motorbike the next morning at 8 am, I find that his workday has already been underway for hours. He asks if I mind if we stop at his house quickly to drop off medicine for his mother; he hasn’t had time yet because he is coming straight from his earlier job. Starting at 4 am he goes to unload rice at the local market for several hours. This doesn’t pay him money, but it does provide a supply of rice that is enough for two meals a day for his family; which I find out is 10 people (him, his mother, 3 younger sisters, two younger brothers, an aunt and her two kids) he almost single-handedly has to support. I meet his mother and two of his sisters when I visit his home. It is a small wooden structure with two open rooms (maybe 6 ft X 7 ft) about four feet off of the ground with two more platforms below with no walls. The females are constantly grinning from ear-to-ear for the few minutes I am there. Although the younger sister runs off shyly when I try to say hello. His mother is an older, slightly decaying lady with no noticeable teeth, who I get the impression what quite the flirt in her day. She provides several flattering compliments, translated through Dollar, about my handsome looks and enjoyable smile. I think I may need to bring her back home with me to give me a boost every-once-in-awhile.
As the tour unfolds across the countryside, I continue to be more and more captivated by this guy and his family. His father died two years ago from cancer. Now the block of town where his neighbor sits is going to be destroyed next year by the city government to build more hotels; but the city is not going to do much to help the current families relocate. Possibly to hardest tug on my heartstrings is while we are visiting the ‘killing cave’ used by the Khmer Rouge during the genocide of their civil war in the 1970s. He told me the horrific story passed on from his mother about the atrocities his family endured during this time. His grandmother, grandfather and aunt were murdered during the initial invasion of Battambang. His parents were forced to work 18+ hour days in the fields, with nearly no food to sustain their energy. His parents had two children at the time. His older sister was just an infant and died of malnutrition because his mother was also so malnourished she was incapable of breastfeeding. His older brother, who was about four, was murdered one day by soldiers by being swung against a tree. As we sit on top of the hill, near the killing cave, Dollar is nearly in tears explaining his mother’s portrayal of the time; and I am nearly in tears listening to it. Finally, he tells me several times how angry he is about the civil war, because if they had not killed his older siblings, then they would be around today and could help him take care of his family.
Now I am having a hard time not thinking about Dollar. How I know the struggles in his life, but yet he nearly always had a smile on his face. How he was welcomed so adoringly by the shop owners and workers along our tour route that knew him; I could almost hear them saying as we left, “that Dollar, what a sweet young man”. And how he reminded me several times during the day how grateful he was that I gave him this job for the day. Yet he never even tried to finagle a few more dollars out of me, which is really unusual for the area. Although, I did buy his lunch; again, without an ounce of expectation from him that I would or should.
I really need to figure out how to stay in touch with Dollar, and find a way to help him and his family. They are the type of people I dreamt of meeting on this trip.