Ending with Machu Picchu

Hey everybody,

As George Costanza once said, it's important to leave on a high note.  The fact that I left Machu Picchu for the end of my trip, though, happened more out of laziness rather than purposeful timing.  I kind of didn't want to go, actually.  Machu Picchu is, by far, the most expensive destination in Peru.  Then I sat down and figured out that during my time here I've spent almost 80 hours on a bus.  To be honest, after six weeks of almost constantly moving around the last thing I wanted to do was to go on another long bus or train ride, but I knew if it ever came up in conversation that I spent a month and a half in Peru and didn't go to Machu Picchu people would give me all sorts of crap about it.  So yeah, I decided to go to one of the seven modern wonders of the world because I didn't want my balls busted.

I almost bailed out on the whole thing during a tour of the Sacred Valley.  We got stuffed into a bus early in the morning and spent the next six or so hours being hurriedly shuttled between touristy handicraft markets and overcrowded Inca ruins.  The guide was a friend of a friend who said he'd get us into the ruins at a discount but as he tried to get us through the ticket office at Ollantaytambo we got busted for trying to jump the line and kicked out.  Then on the cramped train to Aguas Calientes a Brazilian guy sitting across from me spilled a cup of hot coffee on my backpack which happened to be on my lap because there was no place else to put it. So with a moist lap and a backpack full of clothes smelling like French Roast, I pulled into Aguas Calientes thinking screw it, I'm going to enjoy Machu Picchu as much as I can.  And I did.

There are quite a few people that leave Aguas Calientes at 4AM in order to hike up a couple of hours and see the sun rise upon Machu Picchu.  I am not one of those people.  After hopping on the 7AM bus we rode up through the misty morning until we reached the main entrance to of Machu Picchu, where every tour group is for some reason scheduled to enter the city at exactly the same time.  You'd think that the ideal conditions for seeing an Inca city atop a mountain would be a clear, sunny day, but I have to say that spending the morning and afternoon in the middle of clouds and mist gave the deserted ruins a certain haunting quality that made them all the more impressive.  Machu Picchu wasn't formed as a settlement, more like a scientific research community.  It looks like the Incas used the location to experiment with agriculture, biology and especially astronomy.  Many different types of plants and crops were found that are not supposed to grow at these altitudes and the remains of bodies of different animals have been found in various states of dissection.  Observatories litter the ruins along with sun dials and fixed compasses.  From the available evidence it looks like the Incas fled Machu Picchu in a hurry, probably because they started to run out of food.  Since not much was grown up on the mountain they relied on imports from Cusco and the Sacred Valley, and when the Spanish invasion began the imports dried up.  Historically speaking it's lucky that the place was abandoned, however, because it also meant that the Spanish never found it.  If they had, they would have plundered and destroyed it, since that's what they did with every other Inca settlement they came across.  The plundering didn't occur until several hundred years later when Machu Picchu was "discovered" by Hiram Bingham, a professor from Yale.  Connecticut is where you'll have to go if you want to see the majority of treasures that were discovered in the ruins and the tombs back in 1911-1914.

It's difficult to fully absorb the ruins of Machu Picchu though because you never have a single quiet moment alone to appreciate what you're viewing.  There is constant motion and ambient chatter all around you no matter where you go.  There is no quiet corner.  The closest I came to solitude was the climb up to the top of Waynapicchu, the mountain directly behind the ruins.  Only 400 visitors are permitted to climb per day so that keeps the traffic low, and on this day the cold and slippery conditions made it so that people didn't linger too long at the top of the mountain.  The view of the ruins from that high are spectacular, and you can make out the perhaps intentional shape of a condor in the outline of Machu Picchu.  The rains started pouring down at mid-day and most people fled the ruins for the shelter of the lodge or the buses back to Aguas Calientes.  I waited them out for a while so that I could hike down the mountain and finally got my time alone with nature.  I wouldn't say that it was the most spectacular place I've ever seen in my life, but there was something about that place that makes you want to leap out and wrap your arms around the mountains.  I'm not sure how else to describe it.

After that it was a couple more days in Cusco and then Lima.  I don't have much to tell you about these two cities, to be honest.  I think that we had had enough of playing tourist and simply wanted to chill out before leaving town, me to San Francisco and Stefano and Caterina back to Europe.  The last few days we've spent most of our time relaxing, or wandering around looking for a good place to eat or have coffee.  I finally ate cuy (guinea pig) and it was delicious; a lot like rabbit.  I also tried Inka Kola and it was not delicious; a lot like bubble gum.  Peruvian drivers do not yield in any way to pedestrians and in fact seem to go out of their way to try and hit you with their cars.  Stefano and I have spent a large portion of the last couple of weeks daydreaming about pulling drivers out through their car windows and beating the crap out of them.  Peruvian people, while not unfriendly, are generally standoffish or grumpy with strangers though warm and affectionate with friends.  I'll miss taking afternoon breaks to eat Sublime chocolate bars with my brother, and I'll miss Cusquena malta.  Most of all, I have to say that Peru and Bolivia have surprised me.  Maybe amazed is a more correct term.  I had no idea of the variety of natural beauty that was contained in this region, and I've only explored the bottom half of Peru and the southwestern part of Bolivia.  Images of these places will stay with me for the rest of my life.

So now I'm heading home after almost 7 months on the road.  I hope nobody's expecting insightful words of wisdom or that I've had some major epiphany or something because that kind of stuff never happens on a schedule.  I've had a fantastic time and have gotten a lot out of my varied experiences... much more so than I initially thought when setting out.  It's also been nice to be away from a lot of the everyday crap like pop culture, sports, memes, and especially all the presidential campaign bullshit for the last half year.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that my hometown team won the world series, but I think I've seen maybe one baseball game this year and I don't feel like I really missed out on anything.  Above all, especially when compared to the other long trips I've taken, I'm returning home even more appreciative of the life I have and the place I live.  In the past when I left I felt like I was running away for a while, but this time I left not to get away but to go toward something... to have an experience... if you know what I mean.  I feel great and am happy to be heading home.  I realize how lucky I am not only to be able to take this time off and visit these places but to have all these fantastic friends that I've met with along the way.  The list is too long to mention but if any of you are reading this then... a big hug and a profound thank you for helping make these last few months so special.

A flower for the reader

I also want to take the time to thank those of you that have been reading my posts (I know there are at least three of you) but there's something about writing and taking photos and keeping up this blog that has kept me going these last 7 months.  I'm not going to deny that there's a little bit of narcissism involved (anyone who posts stories and denies it is a liar) but I want to let you know that it means a lot to me that people are enjoying or appreciating a thing that I'm creating.  I feel that I get a lot more out of writing these posts than people get from reading them for that very reason.  And there have been times where the posting has been what's motivated me when I've been lonely or anxious or whatnot.  Once I got going I ended up doing or seeing something awesome, all thanks to the push I received from people reading my stuff.  So thank you... it's meant a lot to me.

Like I said, I don't have any big words of wisdom with which to leave you.  When you're hiking, take the steeper path since it will probably have a better view.  Always try the street food and the local beer.  At high altitudes, cold showers suck.  Always pack toilet paper.  Other than that, I have a two-page list of stuff to do when I get back, the most important of which is written in bold at the top of the page... "Must Wash Hat"

Here are the pictures from Machu Picchu...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/VmaLNwG6MPj554We6

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Andes to Amazon

Hey everybody,

Greetings from Francesco and Claudia's Home for Wayward Italian Volunteers.  We've been using their Cusco home as our Peruvian home base for the last couple of weeks and will be here until our final few days in Peru.  Francesco and Claudia have been working here with the Amici del Peru organization for the last few years and have housed many volunteers from different organizations on the bunk beds in the spare bedrooms.  All I know is that it's only place I've been in weeks where I haven't had to eat rice and/or potatoes or drink instant coffee, it has a sometimes hot shower and a washing machine and simply for that... it is fantastic.

Llamas!

Stefano and I took Francesco's SUV for the weekend in order to travel several hours up into the Andes to visit Livitaca, the village where Stefano and Caterina have been living and volunteering since last December.  It only has about 2000 inhabitants and is pretty much in the middle of nowhere up in the mountains, mostly farmers and herders with their families.  Amici del Peru has been working in the area for several years on different projects from education to health to solar power.  We arrived just in time for dinner at the comedor in the church where Charo the cook put me immediately to work peeling potatoes.  A lot of the young guys that Stefano taught English live in a dormitory at the church so I met about ten of them.  After a year of living there Stefano knows pretty much everybody, so I met most of the shopkeepers, every kid who lives at the church, a bunch of farmers and the mayor.  Most people I've met in Peru give you a really limp handshake and don't look you in the eye when they meet you but the mayor was a notable exception.  I've also found I have about a 33% success rate when cracking jokes in Spanish with Peruvian campesinos, and that's only after I specify that what I just said is a joke.

The next morning Ste and I, along with Rony, Gabriel and Nilo, took the 1982 Toyota Land Cruiser owned by Amici del Peru for a day trip first to climb the Kora, the highest mountain in the area at about 4200 meters, then to Cini Ciri, a pre-Inca burial site.  Climbing a flight of stairs is tough at this altitude, at least that's what Ste and I thought until we went climbing with three guys from Livitaca, each of whom took turns climbing back down to where we were to make sure we weren't lost.  They probably could've climbed the mountain six times in the time it took Ste and I to get up there.  On top of the Kora there is an old dwelling that is uncertain whether it's Inca or pre-Inca but was probably used by someone as an outpost or as a location from which to communicate with the guardian spirits in the mountains.  There were, of course, spectacular views of the valley at this height along with sightings of some condors and the ubiquitous llamas.  Then we climbed back down and got to fix a flat tire on the Land Cruiser, or more like watch the younger guys fix a flat tire.

We then headed to the site of Cini Ciri, an old burial ground that has been freely accessible to the citizens of Livitaca... until now.  A couple of months ago the government of Cusco decided to make Cini Ciri a protected area, which is great because people used to just come and pick up bones and pottery and generally have their way with a burial ground that is at least 800 years old.  We had to sign in as visitors and were escorted by a guide from the University of Cusco who explained a lot of what they know and they don't know about the site.  The mounds are still directly accessible in that you can walk right up to them and take pictures but they don't like you to move things around.  They have to take a picture inventory of everything and in a few months will ship a lot of the remnants to the University for DNA analysis.  Still... I mean... you're walking right among bones in the midst of a pre-Inca burial ground.  It may be the only place in Peru where they allow you to do that.  The mounds are made of adobe and those of nobility or the upper-class are painted in red and white.  The dead were buried in baskets made of hay and dressed in clothes made of alpaca wool.  Above each mound is a small hutch where they would light a lamp with oil made of animal fat after each burial as well as on subsequent occasions.  There are probably a hundred or so mounds inside the cliff face lining both sides of the spectacular valley.

The rest of the time in Livitaca was basically spent cruising around or doing a whole lot of nothing, which Stefano explained to me is how they spent a lot of their year there.  One thing we certainly didn't do over four days was take a shower, because when it's almost freezing *inside* the house and you only have cold water, you don't take showers.  Besides, at this altitude... you don't sweat.  We didn't even sweat climbing the Kora.  Everything is dry, dusty and crackly, including us.  The tomatoes are delicious, though.

After a couple of days back in Cusco we headed to a dramatically abrupt change in climate in Puerto Maldonado in the midst of the Peruvian part of the Amazon forest.  Besides the 3000 meter drop in altitude there is the temperature adjustment to about 35 celsius with 98% humidity... a lot to take in after an overnight bus ride.  Speaking of overnight bus rides, I took a half a sleeping pill after we left the bus terminal and everything after that is a little hazy.  I remember the bus stewardess or bus attendant or whatever got on a microphone and said there was some kind of drawing for prizes happening which is not normal on a bus even in Peru, and she said something about being able to win bottles of water, or a mug or a kangaroo.  I think she said kangaroo.  Then she started calling out seat numbers and you could hear shuffling going on upstairs (it was a two-story bus).  My recollection is a bit syrupy but I remember her saying that the final number was being called and it was asiento #50 and Stefano and Caterina look at me and I'm like "What?" and then I realize than I'm in asiento #50.  So I groggily stand up and walk/crawl upstairs on a bus that is taking curves like an F1 racer and I see this attendant dressed in a bright red dress with a microphone handing me a ceramic mug and then saying in Spanish "Let's have some applause for... [looking at my ticket] David Bresci!" and I look around and the entire second story of the bus is filled with name-tag clad Jehovah's Witness missionaries applauding and staring at me.   It was either a horrible nightmare or I was unknowingly dropped in the middle of a Terry Gilliam film.  I swear that this happened.  I have the mug.

Holding a gator

Anyway... Puerto Maldonado.  We spent four days guided by Victor, a native of the area, cruising the jungle around the Madre de Dios river in the east of Peru about three hours from Brazil.  We stayed at the Monte Amazonica lodge which is home not only to tourists but to two parrots and three monkeys (Lalo, Bruno and Paco), all of whom immediately became friendly with Caterina.  The first night we went on a boat ride to spot caiman alligators and capibara, the world's largest rodent.  Our companions for the first couple of days were a Ukranian couple.  She was nice, he was angry, they fought almost the entire time and they were constantly late.  Stefano loved this.  On the second day we headed for a hike and then a boat ride on Lake Sandoval in a protected natural reserve.  The lake is home to caiman, piranhas, giant river otters, and various species of birds.  There are also a huge number of beautifully colored insects, especially butterflies, all around the reserve.  That afternoon while drinking a cold beer at another lodge we met La Loca, a tarantula-eating Coati that also likes cold beer.

Three monkeys

I don't know why we decided to go visit the native community... as I mentioned in a previous post I normally hate this kind of shit... but maybe the positive outing to Amantani softened us up.  Unfortunately, the visit to the Boras turned out to be the awkward, touristy, uncomfortable experience that Ste, Cate and I had been dreading.  We boated out to a hovel of huts surrounded by a small field of corn and yucca and waited a few minutes for the small family of six to saunter out dressed in rags and feather head-dresses with painted faces. After a welcome and some half-hearted singing by the grandmother and her daughter, the grandfather proceeded to play a tune on a small flute.  The poor old guy looked like he was about 120 years old.  There were about three or four times when he was blowing into the flute where I thought he might keel over.  There were a couple of other short demonstrations, shooting of bows and arrows, and then the hawking of trinkets, a few of which we felt obliged to buy.  They also had a spider monkey... 2 Soles per photo.  Anyhow, once that was over we had a nice, mellow kayak ride back to the lodge, then later that afternoon went for a canopy walk along a bridge set up between two trees atop the jungle.  There were some fantastic views of the top of the jungle and we saw a colorful family of macaws fly by from a distance.  That night Victor led us on a night walk behind the lodge where we saw several nocturnal insects, most notably a couple of families of tarantulas.  They are just as creepy in person as you think they'd be.

Puerto Maldonado was a very different Peru from everything else that we'd seen.  It was strangely reminiscent of SE Asia with the motorbikes and the tuk-tuks and the jungle vegetation and it was a very nice break from the dry altitude of the Andes.  I'm back in Cusco now with Macchu Picchu and Lima on deck, then after that it's back home.  Here are the pictures...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/LAKaoA5VKcvUyeCa8

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Unbelievable Uyuni

Hey everybody,

Anyway, as I was saying... altitude.  I spent a large part of the last week above 4000 meters (about 13000 feet) and besides the lack of sleep I think it also makes me constantly hungry.  On top of that there's the lack of moisture mixed with not drinking enough water and I'm thinking I'm turning into Man Jerky.  I'm pretty sure I was designed for sea-level operation.  Other than that I feel great, though.

La Paz

After leaving Copacabana I spent a couple of days cruising around the markets and parks in the Bolivian capitol, La Paz.  The city lies in the middle of a valley surrounded by hills and from a distance looks like a vast, orange sprawl.  It seems like every single building is made out of bricks so all you see for miles around is... orange.  Paris it ain't.  I suppose the upside is that it's big bad wolf-proof.  I don't know if you need to spend more than a day or two in La Paz.  The most interesting parts of the city are easily walkable and if you like items made of alpaca wool... well then you'll be in heaven.  I was expecting the Witches' Market to be something more smoky or foggy with strange old women grabbing at you with withered hands from out of the mist and insisting on telling your fortune.  Instead it's about one square block of small shops selling stone trinkets, herbal remedies, and yes... animal fetuses.  I found a restaurant that served a 4-course lunch for 10 Bolivianos, which is about $1.50, and then took a long walk to a nice little park on top of one of the hills with views on the city.  Love is in the air in La Paz... you can tell by the number of couples making out, especially in the park.  I sat up there for a couple of hours looking at views of the city and listening to music when "Night Prowler" and then "Livewire" came on back-to-back and I realized I was singing out loud .  I looked around and noticed that a couple of older Bolivian women were staring at me.  You know... the ones with the hats.  That was awkward.  Ah, how I miss Colonel Angus!

That night I'm waiting at the station for my bus to Uyuni and making small talk with some of the other passengers before boarding, wondering why there are paintings of the interiors of the buses, including the toilets, in the lobby.  I introduce myself to a Japanese guy named Hiro when a woman in front of me turns around and says, "Your name is Dave?  Did you book this trip through Coca Travel?"
Me:  "Uh... yeah."
Woman:  "Great!  They told us you'd be our Spanish translator!"
Me:  "Wait... what?"
And that's how I met Caroline and Martin.  They immediately warned me about the bus ride.  The first four hours over paved roads are no problem, but the following seven hours are another story.  The road from Oruro to Uyuni has not yet been paved, so it was like spending most of the night on a massage chair set at max power, and not in a good way.

I'm not really sure how to begin to describe the next three days touring around southern Bolivia other than to say that it's possibly the most amazing landscape I've seen anywhere in my life.  We set off almost immediately upon arrival in Uyuni after piling all of our stuff on top of a Toyota Land Cruiser (side note:  If I ever need to do anything off-road, I'm getting a Land Cruiser.  Those things are beasts).  It was me, Caroline and Martin, a Dutch girl named Charlotte and a Colombian couple Laura and Sebastian.  Our driver and guide Cristobal was a man of few words but man could he drive the shit out of a Land Cruiser off-road.  Over the course of the three day/two night tour I got the feeling that Cristobal was sort of a boss among the various guides.  He's older than most and when he flashes his high beams the other 4x4s move out of the way.  I asked Cristobal how long he'd been leading these tours and he said 10 years.  The last three years have been the busiest, however, and there has been a lot more tourist activity in Uyuni.  The town only has 15,000 inhabitants and the main industries are mining, salt processing, quinoa farming, and llama herding.  I asked him if more tourism was a good thing and he said, "Of course.  They're going to pave the road from Oruro to Uyuni."

A lone salt worker in the distance

Our first stop on day one was a train graveyard just outside of Uyuni where old steam locomotives have been left to rust seemingly in the middle of nowhere.  If it wasn't for the 30-odd tourists milling around it would've been one of the creepiest sites I've ever seen.  From there we drove directly on to the Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in the world.  It's a bit disorienting to look out on to a completely white horizon and lose all perspective on relative distance.  If it wasn't for the faraway mountains it would seem like you were on the edge of the world.  Much of the salt processing for human consumption is done by hand with workers digging out piles of salt with shovels and leaving them for pickup later on.  We ate lunch inside the Salt Hotel which, as you can imagine, is made out of salt bricks.  From there we drove to Isla de Pescado which is an island in the middle of this salt plain made of petrified coral and covered with cacti.  That is one landscaping trifecta that I can safely say I've never seen before.  We drove across naturally formed hexagons that have been formed on the surface of the salt plains and spent the first night at another lodging made of salt in Chuvica at an altitude of about 3700 meters.

Desierto de Siloli

The second day I felt like we were traveling across the surface of Mars.  We headed to the small town of San Juan (elevation 3929 meters, 12,890 feet) for a pit stop and from there we never went below 4000 until we headed back to Uyuni the next day.  The terrain seemed to change with every mile.  I was lucky enough to have the front seat so when you see the photos you'll see a lot of the hood of the truck with the Toyota insignia.  I tried to do the best I could to capture what we were seeing but honestly there's no way it can be done through pictures.  We saw several active volcanoes each approximately 5,900 meters above sea level. We traveled to four lagoons, most of which were populated by red and white flamingos.  At Laguna Canapa I trounced across some black mud which, when it dried, formed this sort of dry, grey crust which looked and felt a lot like cement.  I don't know what those flamingos are digging for in that mud.  I don't know what could be alive in that lagoon at that altitude.  We drove across the red surface of the Desierto de Siloli to reach our highest point of the day, about 4680 meters (about 15,300 feet).  By the way, it's not like there are roads up there or anything.  All you can see are the tracks left from years of off-road tours... the drivers do this all by feel and experience.  One of the trucks in our group didn't make it to a scheduled meeting point so we had to double-back for an hour to look for them.  We asked Cristobal why they don't have radios or walkie-talkies or anything like that and he looked at us oddly.  "We have cell phones but they don't work out here so we travel in groups."  And that was the end of that conversation.

Laguna Colorada

As we continued on toward the Arbol de Piedra we stopped to catch a glimpse of a group of animals that are a cross between a rabbit and a squirrel called viscacha.  The arbol itself is a large rock that over the years was formed into the shape of a tree and is surrounded by several other picturesque formations in a rock garden and, luckily, an outhouse.  That's one of the reasons why, as I mentioned earlier, I haven't been drinking enough water... lack places to take a leak.  As many of you know I am a peeing machine so I've got to keep the liquid intake under control.  Anyhow, we ended the day by entering the Eduardo Avaroa national wildlife refuge to a striking view of the Laguna Colorada, literally the Red Lagoon.  We spent the night in an inn at about 4300 meters where the red wine at room temperature was still almost freezing, but they gave us a bottle for free so hey, down it goes.

Sol de Manana

The next morning we awoke at 4:30 to a spectacularly starry night sky.  I tried to capture some shots with slow shutter speed but I don't know if my camera is that good.  You could see some faint traces of what could be the Milky Way and I saw more than one shooting star.  Of course, at 4300 meters before sunrise it's what I would refer to as brutally cold.  I wasn't going to stay out there very long to lose digits in the name of photography but I will tell you that alpaca hats are the shit.  They totally work.  Anyhow, we headed out to catch the sunrise at the geyser plateau known as Sol de Manana at an elevation of a measly 4865 meters (about 16,000 feet).  As I mentioned earlier... Mars.  A field of steamy sulfur across a red rock surface as the sun rises across the horizon.  From there it was on to the thermal pools at the Laguna Polques for breakfast.  Normally I would've partaken of a thermal hot tub but a) I didn't have shorts or b) a towel and c) it was fuckin' freezing.  After breakfast we drove across the plain known as the Desierto de Dali because of the strangely abstract rock formations and then made a stop at the Laguna Verde, which is not actually green.  The upshot of this is that the Vulcan Licancabur casts a spectacular reflection across the surface of the lagoon which, again, I tried to capture in pictures but without much success.  From there it was straight to the border crossing between Bolivia and Chile.  I say border crossing but it's this hut in the middle of nowhere where trucks and buses from each country congregate to shuttle tourists back and forth.  It's cold, windy, desolate and beautiful.  We dropped off Martin, Caroline and Charlotte and picked up a couple of Argentinian women on the way to Uyuni that spoke Spanish at about 200 mph.

Flamingos in flight over Laguna Hedionda

This last day back to Uyuni was probably the least interesting visually but I managed to get some more information on the area from Cristobal and the rest of the group.  Quinoa was the staple food of the Incas because it grows between 3700-4000 meters, is highly nutritious, and only needs dirt and rain.  There are several salt mines across the salars which are used for mining chemical salts (borax, etc).  The miners live on-site without their families for shifts lasting up to 25 days.  There seems to be some sort of child trafficking problem in Bolivia from what the Argentinians were saying.  I got that impression at the bus station in La Paz where on the cctv every once in a while they would repeat a public service announcement warning people to be on the lookout for unaccompanied minors for this very reason.  It also looks like both Peruvians and Bolivians are fairly politically active.  Besides the frequent protests, you can't drive by one house outside of a city that doesn't have one wall completely covered by a slogan for one candidate or another.

Once back in Uyuni I only had a couple of hours left until my bus to La Paz which was then followed by a bus to Cusco, Peru.  I don't know if I can adequately describe how my body felt after three days in a Land Cruiser followed by the overnight unpaved hell ride to La Paz followed by another 12 hours in a bus to Cusco so I'll leave it alone.  Now I'm down to a measly altitude of 3300 meters.  Kid stuff.

Here are the pictures.  I don't think they'll do it justice, but it's the best I've got...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/QfZLwdLF7tHqwGpv5

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Up Among The Clouds

Hey everybody,

I've been speaking Italian for two weeks with my brother and his wife and Spanish with everybody else.  On the bus I sat next to a guy from Montreal who tried to explain the difference between the Spanish verbs tener and haber... in French.  I'm writing this in English.  I walked into my hotel in Copacabana and said "sawasdee khaap" to the receptionist which means hello in Thai.  All these damn languages are giving me a headache.  Of course, the headache could also be caused by the altitude.  We went from the Pacific coast to Puno (elevation 3800 meters/12,500 feet) in about a day and a half which is probably why I only slept about 2 hours total over the next two nights.  Puno isn't a particularly scenic town but it's not a bad place to spend a couple of days.  The whole reason for tourists coming to Puno, though, is the spectacular Lake Titicaca, the highest lake in the world.

Stefano, Caterina and I went on a two-day tour on the southwest part of the lake and on three islands.  The first set of islands, the Uros, are man-made floating islands that are made from 2x3 meter blocks of mud and reed that are tied together for several months until they form a single block.  Layers of dried reeds are then used to create a flat surface for the island and then the villagers proceed to build huts, mud ovens, and the rest necessary for survival on the island.  The whole process takes about 18 months and the islands last between 20-15 years.  It's a very impressive process, but the visit to the Uros left mixed feelings.  All the information about the construction was great, but on the other hand they immediately tried to sell us trinkets and blankets after the lecture.  Then the women sang a couple of songs as our boat was leaving... Vamos a la Playa and Row Your Boat.  It just felt a bit weird, a little too touristy, a little too put-on.  Talking to Ste and Cate they both thought that the residents only lived on the islands for part of the year and mostly for tourists.

 Let the party begin

Luckily that was our only such experience on the trip.  We spent several hours on the boat on the way to the island of Amantani, and it was one of the most scenically spectacular rides I've ever taken.  You are literally floating in a lake that's among the clouds.  I couldn't stop staring out at the cloud formations on this beautifully sunny day and thinking that this is exactly the reason you travel.  Once we reached Amantani we were handed off to the host family of Valeriana and Dionisio for a one-night homestay in the village.  Their family consisted of children and grandchildren, and they mostly spoke Quechua to each other while speaking Spanish to us.  The first thing they did was feed us, which of course will immediately endear anyone to me, and I had my first mate de coca (tea made with coca leaves).  We then went for a climb for a sunset view of the lake from the top of the island.  There are two peaks, Pachatata and Pachamama, each with a temple at the top, representing the two opposite forces, positive and negative, yin and yang, or at least the Incan version of it.  We climbed to the top of Pachamama, the tallest peak at 4200 meters which is about the same height as the Annapurna base camp in Nepal.  We were lucky to be relatively secluded since most of the others in the group chose the smaller peak and we were rewarded with amazing 360 degree views of the lake.  It gets cold quickly at that height though so we went back for dinner with the family.  Stefano got into a conversation with Dionisio and his son about how the whole homestay business works... they host tourists only about 6 days a month for some extra income but otherwise work the land.  The son also works sometimes as a fisherman out of Puno or has even gone as far as Lima for a period to work. After dinner Valeriana could dressed us up in traditional campesino garb and took us to a dance.   Holding hands and dancing in a circle to some traditional Andean guitar/flute tunes was fun for about half an hour but after that we just needed some sleep.  I suppose that was the tourisiest part of the stay on Amantani, but the whole thing was really low-key.  I think the three of us enjoyed our homestay much more than we thought we would.

The next morning we traveled to the island of Taquile, the first of these islands opened to tourism in 1978.  There are pre-Inca ruins on the island so it's been inhabited for quite a while.  Most of the farming is grain-based, quinoa and whatnot.  There are cows and chickens but all vegetables have to be boated in from Puno.  There were some excellent views from that island as well, but nothing compared to what we saw from Pachamama.

Isla de la Luna

After heading back to Puno, Stefano said to me, "Why don't you go to Bolivia?"  So I left Ste and Cate to head home to Cusco and I went to Bolivia.  I'm in fucking Bolivia!  Heh... it's just funny to me, I don't know why.  Anyway, I headed to Copacabana since it was only a 3-hour bus ride from Puno even though Ste and Cate told me I'd probably hate it because it's full of hippy backpackers.  They were partly right... it's some kind of tiny tourist town on the Bolivian side of Titicaca that's full of drum-toting, natural fabric-wearing, dreadlocked hippy backpackers.  It's also strangely peppered with older European tourists, and it seems to be some kind of retreat destination for Israelis.  Exactly the kind of place where I could fit right in.  I usually get a bit anxious anyway when I'm off by myself after having been traveling with people for a while and the weirdness and general unfriendliness of Copacabana was not really helping things.  In these situations I try to keep reminding myself that if I keep exploring eventually I'll see something fantastic, and the day trip to the Islas de Sol and de la Luna was the perfect tonic.  Isla de la Luna held an old Incan temple of the virgin that still seems to be used for ceremonies or prayers, as well as a picturesque dock with a spectacular view of Lake Titicaca and the mountains beyond.  On Isla del Sol I hiked through a village to the top of one of the mountains for more amazing views.  If I had to do it over again, I would've spent a night at one of the hostels at the top of the island, which is what I'd recommend if any of you are going to head there.  You can spend all day hiking around the island and/or just sitting on a patio overlooking one of the most beautiful lakes in the world while drinking a beer.  I might have to go back.

Hopefully, you like pictures of lakes and clouds...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/V1oto5fTe7MN73WDA

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Sand Dunes and Guano

Hey everybody,

I'm in Peru and my plan is to eat guinea pig and alpaca.  And maybe go to Macchu Picchu.  I've never been to South America, my brother and his wife are here, and that's why I'm here.  Not my most thoroughly planned adventure.  So far what I can tell you is that Peru is really, really big.  Waaaay bigger than I thought.  Long, long bus rides.  I'm enjoying being referred to as "caballero" and may insist that this continue even when I'm back in the U.S.  I have also discovered what may possibly be one of the most genius culinary inventions of all time:  Salchipapas.   It's a giant plate of french fries topped with sausage.  Then if you want Salchipapas Especial on top of that you throw a fried egg.  This may be the most awesome drunk/high munchie food ever invented.

Peruvians fear my vertical leap

Ste and Cate have been in Peru for 11 months volunteering near Cusco and this is their first real vacation since they've been here.  I met them in Arequipa, which is a good place to relax for a few days and get acclimated, spending most of your time walking around town visiting markets, drinking fruit juice and looking at the spectacular scenery of the six surrounding (active) volcanos.  It's also supposed to have the most picturesque Plaza de Armas (central square) of any city in Peru.  Arequipa is Peru's second-largest city and is also known as the "White City" which sounds very Lord of the Rings.  The only thing it has in common with Lord of the Rings however is that most of its inhabitants are the size of hobbits.  I may be the tallest man in Peru, or at the very least in the top ten.  I think i could easily dunk on 99% of Peruvians, assuming they lowered the hoop enough so that I could dunk.  When I walk down the street behind Stefano and Caterina people look at me like I'm their bodyguard.  It's kind of awesome, except when you're riding on an overnight bus whose seats are made for someone 8 inches shorter than you.  Then it's not so awesome.

From there we took an overnight bus to the small town of Paracas which is on the Pacific coast just south of Pisco.  The main reason for traveling to Paracas (besides Ste and Cate not having seen the ocean in a year) was to visit the Islas Ballestas.  A boat trip out to the islands yields excellent views of penguins, ocean birds, sea lions a giant image carved out of the sides of one of the sand dunes called El Candelabro.  It looks like an image of a candelabra, or a cactus, or maybe some other kind of religious symbol.  It's about 60 meters long and has survived because of the lack of wind on that side of the bluff.  This image was discovered in the mid-1800s but no one is sure when it was made or by whom.  The main features of the Islas Ballestas, however, is guano.  Yep, these islands are chiefly used for harvesting bird poop which is still the best organic fertilizer known to man.  Up until the last century guano used to be one of Peru's chief exports.  The poop harvest happens once every couple of years and it can get to be a few meters deep.  So now I can say I've seen an island of shit, which is nice.

Paracas also has a large coastal desert national reserve that contains many fossilized remains and some spectacular ocean views.  I was talking to Alberto (the guy who ran our hostel) and he told me that as recently as 10 years ago Paracas was simply a handful of houses with a pier.  There's been some kind of tourist explosion over the last few years that has caused massive new ongoing construction throughout the town, although most of the places look somewhat deserted due to the fact it's low season.  Alberto explained that it's mostly due to tourism for the Islas Ballestas and to the fact that Paracas has a beach.  The place gets booked solid during the summer months when Peruvians are on vacation.

Next it was on to the dunes and the desert oasis of Huacachina.  This is one of those hippy backpacker enclaves that you find in every country when traveling, where everyone seems to be of the dreadlocks/baggy pants crowd trying really hard to be "alternative" which mostly involves sitting on your ass all day talking nonsense and/or learning how to fire dance.  Or maybe you're saving the world by making flip-flops out of old tires.  Only one person approached us trying to sell weed which must mean it's low season.  That being said coming to Huacachina was absolutely 100% worthwhile.  The views over the endless sand dunes, especially around sunset, are spectactular.  And if there's one extreme activity that is worth every penny and then some, it's got to be riding a dune buggy over sand dunes.  Although Ste and I will probably suffer some sort of degenerative vertebrae damage in our later years it was totally worth it.  I tried to upload a video but the high-speed Peruvian internet said it would take about 274 minutes so maybe next time.

Now I'm in Puno so the next set of pictures will be from the higher altitudes and, of course, Lake Titicaca, which I have enjoyed talking about since the 4th grade.  For now, here are the pics...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/SDKCsBsPTRqSjXVW7

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Last Days in Thailand

Hey everybody,

Everything is cold and I don't remember how to wear shoes.  Those are the overwhelming feelings I have after being back in San Francisco for 10 hours.  Oh Thai humidity... thou art my master!   I've had so much to do the last couple of weeks that I don't think it's really sunk in yet that I left.   I feel like I can walk out and take the skytrain to Siam station any time I want.  The next few days are going to be weird.

Anyhow, the last few beach days in Phuket went by incredibly quickly.  I finished my training at Rawai almost two weeks ago and have been missing it ever since.  I find myself being jerked out of sleep by taking a swing at some imaginary bag.  I've been really, really antsy... having this gnawing feeling in the back of my mind that I need to hit something.  I should probably stay away from children and the elderly until I'm able to get back to the gym.  I'm going to have to come back and train again, and I'll probably end up staying at the same bungalow place on Naiharn beach, drunken cooks, ladyboys and all.  And of course the group of old white guys that shows up every day without exception between noon and 1 o'clock and drinks large beers for about six hours.  I asked the staff how long they'd been doing this and the answer was about two years.  Oh, and if you want to see what a couple of rounds of pad work with a trainer at the gym look like, here you go...


http://youtu.be/PssECmrqoUk?hd=1

Hey, I didn't say they'd be quality rounds.

Not exactly a chameleon

After Phuket it was back to Bangkok for the final week or so of my stay.  It was also Lee's last week in Thailand after spending a year teaching English in Bangkok, and Mark flew in from Liverpool for a few days as well.  It was the first time we'd been in Thailand together since 2005.  Lee was even more jumpy than usual trying to get all his last-minute stuff sorted out not to mention the fact that he quit his job with no notice.  Well, it wasn't exactly no notice.  Lee's genius plan was to tell them on Monday that he had to fly home immediately for a family emergency... but his flight didn't leave until Saturday.  This posed a logistical challenge because it meant that Lee had about a two-mile radius in central Bangkok that he had to avoid during the week so that no teachers or students would see him.  This also meant that we basically couldn't use the skytrain for a 12-hour window each day.  It actually wasn't that bad until that one day where Lee and I had to end up taking a cab across town in the middle of rush hour, which ensures at least a one hour cab ride.  The driver spoke pretty good English so we chatted a bit and Lee told him that he was a teacher but needed to avoid going near his school, which was closeby.  So the cab driver says that he knows a shortcut to get through the traffic, takes a couple of lefts and turns right up the street of Lee's school!  At this point Lee is sprawled across the back seat with his shirt pulled over his head.  The street is blocked off as students and teachers are streaming out of the school building at 5 pm.  The driver decides and head back so he pulls INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF THE SCHOOL to turn the car around.  A bunch of security guards head toward the car yelling in Thai and the driver says "Don't worry... he's a teacher here!" and points to Lee who is still hiding in the back seat completely paralyzed with disbelief.  I, of course, am laughing hysterically (in a sympathetic way).  I have no idea how we managed to drive Lee through this gauntlet of about 1000 people without anybody stopping or recognizing him.  It might have had to do with the fact that he was hugging the floor mat.

We mostly spent the week in a celebratory mood eating and drinking together.  On Lee's last night out we made a mandatory stop into a girly bar in Nana, where for the first time I saw Mark register a look of pure horror as he saw what to me looked like fairly ordinary depravity (for a Thai girly bar anyway).  Well, I do have to admit that I've never seen a soaped-up woman inside a glass booth/shower in the center of a strip club before.  The upshot is that at least you know she's clean.  We didn't stay long... I think we spent more time eating sandwiches at Subway later that night.  In the rush to get out we left my buddy Jon behind... as far as I know he may still be there.

Eventually both Mark and Lee left, and Lee's departure was especially emotional.  He's absolutely loved his time in Bangkok and has found a group of excellent friends.  I left town for a couple of days and headed to the countryside to visit Roger and Denise, my friends from when I was living in Bend who have spent almost two years as volunteers for the Peace Corps.  They live in a small rural village called Natakut working in schools and with a local government office.  Well, when I say "working" I mean they try to work but mostly get the runaround from local bureaucrats.  I learned a lot about how the Peace Corps works in Thailand, which is that it's more of a "cultural exchange" than any sort of development organization.  Roger and Denise have had to struggle not only to find projects to work on but to convince the locals to work with them.  They're both happy they've had the experience but I think they're looking forward to heading home in February.  Honestly, the weirdest part of the whole trip may have been seeing both of them speaking fluent Thai.

And then there were three:  Rich, Cari and me.  I don't know what I'm going to do without those two.  I don't know what they're going to do without me.  The last couple of days in Bangkok are kind of a blur... I bought a bunch of t-shirts and four tubes of that Herbal Salt toothpaste... we went to a fish spa where the little fish bite your feet... we partied on the Khao San road... Mui came up for a day and gave me some final lessons in Thai language... it was great.  And also sad.  I love Thailand.  I could easily see myself spending a year doing something like teaching English, learning Thai, training muay thai and bjj and it would fly by.  The people are great, the food is great, there's always something to do...  I'm going to miss it.  I know I'll be back, though.  I always come back.

Here are the pictures...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/MHnREmDFH8X6eekY6

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Return to Khao Lak

Hey everybody,

Back in September of 2005 I came to Thailand to volunteer for a couple of weeks after responding to an ad I found in the midst of a search for direction on Craigslist.  As most of you know on Craigslist you are much more likely to find an S&M three-way than the meaning of life, but the two weeks volunteering ended up turning  into six months... septic holes were dug, houses were built, beer was drunk, lasting friendships were made, and it turned out to be one of the seminal experiences of my life.

The houses by the pier on Koh Kho Khao

I'm not going to go into detail about that  (there are quite a few posts on this site from that time period if you're interested) other than to say that last weekend Rich and I made a return to Khao Lak:  Rich for the first time since he left in February 2006.  I had already returned once back in September of 2009 which probably explains why I didn't have as emotional a response now as I did then.  The Khao Lak area had always catered to tourists but when we first arrived in 2005 it was still in the midst of rebuilding and recovery from the tsunami.  I saw many changes in the six months that I was there as businesses re-opened but I definitely wasn't prepared to see anything like a strip mall or a McDonald's when I returned in 2009.  Of course I knew it had to change if the local tourist economy was going to pick up where it left off before the disaster, but in your mind you still have the idea of the place as it was, frozen in time or preserved under glass.  I was not surprised when we arrived last week to see a Khao Lak that is only superficially recognizable from the one in 2005.  There have been so many new stores and businesses opened up on top of each other that you have to search out the names that were once familiar to you... they are no longer obviously sticking out on the main street but crowded around by overlapping signage and building.  The Fisherman bar occupies about 1/3 of the space it used to and you'd be likely to miss it from the street unless you specifically were seeking it out.  On the other hand, some of the more successful businesses like Jai's or Khao Lak Seafood have built second and even third stories on top of their buildings or further additions going back up the hill.  And of course there are those places that no longer exist, unfortunately, like Nom's or Father & Son.  Sorry Max, I guess we'll never know if they still serve the frostiest beer in town.  Oh, and the Tsunami Volunteer Center building is now a guesthouse.

On the ferry to Koh Kho Khao

We drove north to Koh Kho Khao and rode the ferry across to see how our houses are holding up and I'm happy to say that all the houses look lived-in and cared for.  Many of the houses have even been expanded on the ground floor either to create additional living space or, in a couple of cases, shops and restaurants operating out of the house.  At first glance there seemed to be fewer houses on the beach than I remembered but it was probably just my memory playing tricks on me.  The pier on the island has definitely been developed but being low season it's hard to tell if they get any significant amount of tourism.  From there we drove back south to Bang Sak to take a look at some of the houses we worked on in that town and then to see the playground that had been inaugurated in late 2005.  Where Khao Lak has moved forward it seems like Bang Sak has receded.  Rich and I both swore that you used to be able to see the beach from the main road but this is now an impossibility... the vegetation has grown so much that any view has been obstructed.  That's why we had such a hard time finding the playground, and when we did, well, I think you'll have to look at the pictures.  Basically it looks like the playground hasn't been used since the night we inaugurated it 7 years ago.  The whole thing has been overrun by plants and grass.  There used to be a few nice restaurants on the beach but now they look all but abandoned.  Here are some comparison pictures of how things looked in 2005 and how they look today:

The main road in Khao Lak:

2005

Today... doesn't capture all the stores

The internal row of houses on Koh Kho Khao:

Then

Now

Bang Sak Playground:

Inauguration in 2005

Today

We stopped in Khao Lak on the way back for a beer at Fisherman Bar because, well because we had to.  Gai the bartender recognized Rich from the volunteer days and we talked for a bit as well as we could about how business was going.  He said that a lot more tourists were coming to town, which is good, but a lot more bars had opened up, which is bad, so basically it's a wash for him.  He had to start serving food in order to attract more customers and, from what it looked like to us, take on a farang partner.  On the plus side, Gai seemed calm and friendly which is a nice change from those of us who remember those episodes from back in the day where he'd suddenly go nuts and kick everyone out of the bar.

Rich and I have talked about it a bit since.  I think he was glad to go but a bit surprised at the extent of the development, as well as disappointed at the state of the jungle in Bang Sak.  We're both proud of the work that we did and really happy to see that the houses are still solid and lived in.  For me, as I mentioned I think I'd had my emotional reaction when I was there a few years ago.  The visit made me reflective more than anything else.  It's been 7 years!  How has my life changed since then?  Am I a better person?  Do I have a clearer sense of direction?  Why am I asking you?

Getting friendly with Pon

Everything else has been holding steady, except the weather.  Looks like I lucked out my first few sunny weeks in Phuket because the last 10 days have been almost nonstop rain.  Rich and Cari went to Koh Phi Phi for a few days which they said was nice but full of drunk English people.  We've made friends with a lot of the people who work at the resort since that's typically what happens when you're rained in, and by friends I mean they keep inviting us over to hang out with them and drink shots and try to have a coherent conversation.  Lao Kao is the brand of choice, which is a clear, cheap rice alcohol that tastes about as you imagine it would.  The main instigator is Pon, the 40-year-old grandmother who runs the kitchen who  also has a half-French 4 year-old daughter from a deadbeat dad.  She's not shy about sharing information.  Every night like clockwork at 8 pm she's sitting around a table (along with Om the receptionist and Joy the largely toothless ladyboy) downing booze.  All the men, on the other hand, are inside the little minimart drinking shots of whiskey and we haven't really figured out why they all hang out separately.  Then there's my neighbor Paco, the unemployed Spanish tattoo artist whose girlfriend back home sells his stuff on eBay in order for him to have spending money and who has befriended the rat living in his room.  The training is going pretty well... I've had a couple of trainers tell me that I should fight, like a real fight for money.  I told them that I like beer and I don't like to run.  Maybe if I had another month here... I'd probably end up hurting myself.

Last weekend I talked Rich and Cari into coming to see a movie with me in First Class, which is the fancy part of the movie theater in Phuket Town.  It costs $20 but when you walk in through the doors there's a lounge for first-class ticketholders only where they lay out a buffet spread of finger foods and bring out drinks for the guests.  Since we were the only three people in the first class lounge that day, Rich and I ate 4 mini-burgers each, along with crab salad, pasta and a few pieces of cake.  Then when the movie starts they come out and bring you to your assigned seat, which happens to be a recliner with a blanket, and they then bring you a bowl of popcorn and a drink of your choice.  All this pampering may seem incongruous with the film choice of "Expendables 2" but trust me... it works.  The next day we went to Mui's house and cooked him a Mexican dinner (fish tacos, salsa, guacamole, chips and ceviche), which was surprisingly easy to organize except for the tortillas, which as you may imagine are not easy to find in  Thailand.  My experiment with Thai corn flour went somewhat poorly and is dissolving somewhere in Mui's backyard.  Oh, and in case you were wondering what the weather's been like over the last couple of weeks, take a look:

http://youtu.be/PYZI5Rj13zw

This is my last week in Phuket and I find myself becoming surprisingly wistful over the thought of leaving.  I didn't start off thinking I'd become attached but I've had a great experience here.  From the excellent training, to the bungalow on the beach, to the cryptic wisdom of Mui, and to good times with Rich and Cari, it's turned out to be a pretty special experience.  I'm going to miss it when I leave, though the signal that it's time to go may have been the other night when I got a knock at my door at 11 o'clock and it was Pon the cook.   It was a sort of drunk dial except in person.  Then she said a few things really fast and I only understood "drink", "ladyboy" and "sleeping" so I said "Yes, sleeping" and then she left.  So yeah, it's probably time to move on.

Here are the pictures.  Picasa broke them up into two albums for some reason...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/787HRaMA3rQrdo7K9

and

https://photos.app.goo.gl/AJwuUQtbVyiFj25fA

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Update from Siam

Hey everybody,

View from the bungalow

I know it's been a few weeks since my last post but I figured I should write something to let people know that I'm not dead.  Other than that I don't have a whole lot of interesting stories or amusing anecdotes or picturesque landscapes to share with you because I've been living in Phuket going to the beach and training and that's about it.  I feel as though I may have come off as a little too critical in my last write-up so let me state for the record that I love Thailand.  At the end of this trip I will have spent approximately 10 months of my life here and that is not by accident or coincidence.  I've had some of the best experiences of my life and met some of my closest friends here.  That doesn't mean I have to be crazy about the sex tourism here but that's part of the experience since as Pop said... everything is ok. I was talking to Mui the other day and he was telling how open the culture is about sexuality, that it's fine if you're gay or transgender or a ladyboy, in fact you'll see ladyboys working behind the counter at a Dairy Queen in Bangkok or a KFC here in Phuket.  Gay teachers, doctors, whatever... not a problem.  He told me there's even a "pink channel" on tv dedicated to gay programming.  For those of you that know Mui this was thankfully not one of those moments where he was speaking in riddles; what he was saying is pretty straightforward.   And I don't want to sound cynical about the possibility of romance, people do find love here.  There are many Thai-farang families around who seem to be perfectly happy.  I even know a few happy couples myself.  If you respect and embrace the culture and you find somebody that's right for you, Thailand can be a pretty groovy place to settle down.

Mui and I got to talking a little bit about how Thailand is so accommodating to farang and he summed it up pretty succinctly:  "Life here for farang is easy."  Whether you're super-rich or on a tight budget you'll find something for you.  Then I admitted to him that sometimes when I reflect on the fact that the only reason I can stay here for a month at a bungalow on the beach is that it costs $10 a night it seems slightly unfair, like I'm taking advantage of economic inequality, and I wondered if Thai people were ever resentful of that.  I know Mui can't speak for every Thai person but he said he doesn't think so.  It's a two-way transaction since tourism fuels such a large part of the country's economy.  I got into the same conversation with Yok, the guy who runs a restaurant a couple of miles away from my bungalow.  He lived in London for 10 years before moving back to Phuket to be with his family.  He said Europe is too expensive so of course people like coming to Thailand, and with the European economy in the tank they've seen way more Russian and Chinese tourists coming in the last 4 or 5 years.  Yeah, no shit.  Most of the signs for businesses are in Thai, English, and Cyrillic letters and when you sit down at a restaurant you're as likely to hear Russian as English at the next table over.  That's definitely a big change from the last time I was here.

Mui's right though, life is easy.  I've settled into a pretty sweet groove.  I train, I go to the beach, I read, and every once in a while go out with some of the crew from the gym.  I've given myself a goal to try every Thai restaurant and street food stand in a 3-mile radius... so far I think I've hit about 15 different places and have maintained the diarrhea average below 10%.  And of course it's the little things that get me hooked on Thailand... many people are aware of my affinity (perhaps obsession) for papaya salad, larb, Birdy, coconut yogurt and Herbal Salt toothpaste.  Not all together.  I also just enjoy saying larb.  Larb.  The one main drawback of semi-living in Thailand is, of course, Thai pop music...  which rivals only Italian pop music in terms of horrific mind-numbing banality.  You also get treated to cover versions of 80s soft-rock classics such as this timeless number...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9e157Ner90

Anyhow, the muay thai training is fantastic.  The classes are two hours each, twice a day at 7 AM and 5 PM.  After warmups there are five rounds of bag work then 5 rounds either sparring or working 1-on-1 with a trainer.  Then there are three rounds of either grappling, technique work, kick drills, or my favorite:   Learning the Wai Khru which is the ceremonial dance that each Muay Thai fighter performs in the ring before his fight.  Sometimes the sparring sessions are done with the trainers, you know, guys who have had like 300 pro fights.  They'll let you get a couple of jabs in and then throw some crazy flying knee at you then laugh.  I'm learning a ton but it's completely kicking my ass.  I'm not sure when exactly it happened but I'm now at the point when I start to wonder if age is a factor.  When you're 25 and you're sore you're just sore.  When you're 39 you ask yourself if you're sore because you got your ass kicked or because you're old.  Stupid aging.  Some of these guys I'm sparring against are 19.  I'm leaning against the ropes between rounds in a pool of my own sweat and these jerks are bouncing around like kangaroos on meth.  So... you know... fuck them.  Maybe sometimes they accidentally get a knee in the ribs.  Accidentally.

Here's a pretty good short video of what the Wai Khru looks like before a fight:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k92ibgC1JXo

Anyway, I didn't use to think about age much but for some reason it's come up quite a few times since I quit my job a few months ago.  Maybe it's the traveling around and meeting new people so it comes up more often, or maybe it's some overarching philosophical turning point in life, or maybe I just have too much free time.  It's most likely something inbetween.  I've been trying to figure out exactly when it is that you turn the corner physically into "old" and I think it's when you start making sounds when you stand up or sit down.  Something like a like a grunt or "Ooof" or "Mrgh" some kind of sound that signals it's a strain to get up out of a chair.  You know what I'm talking about.

Anyhow, Rich and Cari showed up a few days ago so I'm no longer abstaining from beer.   I still haven't had coffee in a few weeks which is not making the 7 AM classes any easier.  Other than that... life is good.  No pictures to share this time but I'll send an update after we take a trip to Khao Lak.

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Phuket: Where Pheople come to Phuck

Hey everybody,

Traveling to a city or country in a warm-weather climate where the average temperature exceeds 85 degrees will instantly fry the brain of any man from San Francisco.  It has nothing to do with the temperature per se, but with the results of that temperature:  sun dresses and mini-skirts.  You see, as males from San Francisco, we are not used to seeing these items of clothing except in magazines and on television.  They are spoken of in reverential terms, when your friends return from a vacation in Cabo San Lucas or a summertime business trip to New York.  Then you travel to a tropical country and there are skirts all around you and your mental defenses are overwhelmed.  You're only used to seeing sundresses once or twice a year and now you're seeing them every day and even at night!  It turns you into some sort of leering caricature for the first week or so, or at least it did Paul and me.  And believe me, it's not the ladies of San Francisco's fault... it's freakin freezing in the summer!  That probably helps explain why they're so chippy sometimes:  lack of wardrobe options.  The whole summer catalog is out of the question outside of maybe two weeks in September.  I feel for you, ladies.  I feel for me.  It's a tough situation for all of us.

On a positive note, you'll be happy to know there have been no lingering side effects from the Incident On Ko Samet That Shall Never Be Discussed and that everything has healed up quite nicely.  Paul and I returned to Bangkok for one last night out for the crew that was returning home, and Pop took us out for a night on the town culminating with a visit to The Big Apple.  Before I spend too much time describing what goes on at The Big Apple, I realize that it's probably going to sound worse than it is.  I'm going to give it a shot anyway because that's what I do and if you're going through the effort of actually reading what I write I figure you deserve it.  In an effort to protect the innocent, I shall change their names to Bop, Dandy and Maul.  Ok, back to The Big Apple.  First off, we were the only farang (foreigners) in the place.  You walk in and there are rows and rows of tables and stools with two catwalks and a pretty solid live band playing in the front of the room.  I don't know how to describe it other than to say it's an "arm candy" bar.  You call a guy over and agree to buy X bottles of whiskey, depending on the size of your group.  Then the guy goes away and comes back a few minutes later with a lineup of anywhere from 4-8 very attractive Thai women.  And yes, the first thing I thought of when they brought over this lineup is that scene from Enter The Dragon where they all get to pick a woman (and Jefferson picks four... I loved that scene).  And yes, having someone bring you a lineup of women is surreal and a bit weird, bordering on uncomfortable.  Anyway, at that point you pick one that you like (or you don't) and she hangs out with you the rest of the night, which means dancing with you, pouring you a lot of drinks, making small talk, etc, etc.  And that's it.  No sex, no kissing, no stripping, none of that stuff... just hanging out, dancing, maybe sidling up to each other, but that's it.  Pop... I mean Bop... called it "girlfriend mode."  They hang out with you as long as you want, usually until you leave, unless you picked a woman with a special outfit who's called a "coyote."  The coyotes have to get up on the catwalk and dance about once every half hour or so.  As I stated before, I will endeavor to protect the innocent so I will not mention who picked a girl and who flew solo, but it was all around a unique experience and we all slept in the next morning (except Paul who absolutely had to get up at 8 AM so he could go to the Chatuchak market to buy a bedspread or some shit).

Now I feel I have to have the obligatory conversation about sex tourism.  I've read a few books and several stories about the forced sex slavery that occurs in south-east Asia where Burmese women are tricked into coming to Thailand with the promise of work and then are forced into prostitution in brothels to "work off the debt" that was incurred by transporting them across the border.  I think we can all agree that is abhorrent.  I also know a few guys who come to Thailand for a week and all they do every day is get massages with happy endings.  I'm not on board with that either.  Plus you have to wonder how many of these guys have families back home and are taking a sex vacation from their wives.  And then there's the old white guys with the younger Thai women.  To be honest, I've sort of come to terms with that.  Maybe it's because I have some sort of sympathy for these desperate old guys, or maybe it's because I have no real ethical problem with prostitution as long as both sides are choosing it of their own free will, or maybe it's because it seems like a more fair transaction to me... the guy pays for companionship and sex, the woman gets taken out to vacation spots, restaurants, and hotels, probably gets some cash... I don't know the details but she gets something out of it and as far as I can tell she's free to go.  I do know that it's not limited to old guys... there are a lot of younger guys with Thai girlfriends.  It's also not limited to men.  I've seen quite a few ladies with Thai guys, though it's a very small percentage.  The thing is that in most of the cases when you see these couples sitting down to dinner or drinks there is absolutely no conversation happening.  It looks boring as hell.  I guess what I'm saying is that it's still weird but it doesn't bother me as much as it used to for some reason.

And then I came to Phuket.  Holy shit.  Everywhere you look there are girly bars filled with leathery, shirtless old men.  Occasionally, if the bar is equipped with a pole, you'll see one of the ladies going through vague dancing motions while staring vacuously into space.  You can't walk by one of these establishments without some woman yelling, "Hello handsome man" or "Hello sexy man" or even just shrieking "Yaaaah" to get your attention.  I mean, it's not that I'm not handsome or sexy (I can be, given the correct lighting and makeup) but I'm pretty sure I'm not the first guy they've yelled at.  I found a bungalow place near the Rawai Muay Thai training camp... I'm talking maybe 100 meters away... which required me to pass by 4 (four!) girly bars on the way to the gym.  It's some sort of girly bar gauntlet which may or may not be part of the training.  It's getting to the point where I'm wondering if you automatically get a Thai girl whenever you rent a motorbike.

Speaking of the training, let me just say that considering the amount of Tiger Balm I have been applying daily I would not be surprised if you can smell it across continents.  Everything hurts.  I haven't done shit in four months other than sit behind the wheel of a car and sample various microbrews (I am not looking good in those Muay Thai shorts), then I decide I'm going to train for two hours a day in 90 degree heat so that's what I get.  There are quite a few people training (from beginners to pro fighters) and there are many camps around the island.  There's a French former pro fighter at Rawai who brought three or four kids under 12 years old each of whom had a fight lined up (all of them won).  Honestly, though, the hardest part won't be the training but how long I can last in Phuket.  It's so damn touristy... even more than I remember.  Almost every square inch of available space along the beaches or on the main roads has been taken up by some sort of enterprise:  bar, restaurant, massage, minimart, laundry, motorbike rental, or some combination of all of those things.  It's low season now so I can't even imagine what it's going to be like come November.  I don't know how much I can take of these shirtless tattooed morons riding around on their motorbikes.  And yes, now that I'm writing this the irony does not escape me that I look just like these assholes.  Hm.  I may need to review some things.

I can't complain too much though.  I moved to a bungalow that's right on a quiet beach (Naiharn Beach) that is mercifully free of girly bars.  It's a little bit out of the way but I rented a motorbike so I can get around (yes... my transformation is complete... although I wear a shirt and a helmet).  I can hang out on my little stoop and read or surf the internet while listening to the ocean.  I know Lee and Rich and Cari are going to come visit, and honestly if I step up the training I think all I'll be doing at that point is eating and sleeping and having an occasional swim.  So that's not so bad.

On top of that I have Mui here as my go-to guy if I need anything.  The first couple of nights I was in Phuket I stayed at his place and got to experience the thrill of going to Super Cheap... the Thai version of Costco except they're actually deep-frying food inside the warehouse.  It smells fantastic.  Mui also had me try this incredibly spicy Thai anchovy paste that you eat with rice, or vegetables, or toast which is powerfully delicious but in large quantities can give you stomach cramps.  Trust me on that.  And Thai anchovies aren't for everybody.  Mui showed me how to make the paste (we had to cook outside) and when he took the anchovies out of the jar it smelled like that time Sam Woods threw a dead fish in the back of my Jeep Cherokee back in college and I didn't discover it for three days.  Then when you eat the paste it really coats your mouth... like you may have to brush your teeth five or six times to thoroughly get rid of the taste.  Mui said that a lot of Thai people don't even like the paste, so I got that going for me.  Which is nice.  We also took a day trip out to Ao Phang Nga national park by long-tail boat which is essentially a large bay with a multitude of limestone islands.  One of the islands they actually call James Bond Island because it was Scaramanga's hideout in The Man With The Golden Gun.  There are loads of fishermen along with loads of tourists roaming the islands up to Ko Panyee which is an inhabited island where all the buildings are up on stilts.

And this is where the question becomes how much tourism is too much?  As Mui and I were roaming around the island it seemed like every footpath was completely lined by merchants and vendors selling trinkets, t-shirts, posters... all that stuff.  If you're an actual inhabitant of this island, say, a fisherman, there's no way for you to get away from the tourists.  We even saw some guy go right up to a fisherman who was washing his face to take pictures.  Thai people are generally nice so they can't say no, but this kind of stuff is why generally the more touristy a place is the less nice the people are.  The thing is, though, that it's a two-way street.  Tourism generates so much revenue in Thailand that people see it as a guaranteed way to make money.  On top of that there's hardly any sort of regulation so that's why you see the massive explosion in establishments on Phuket and just about everyplace else.  That's also why Mui can't do anything about the guy who opened  up a garbage dump right next to his house, but that's another story.  I think I said this after I was here in 2006 and again in 2009, but if you want to find any part of this beautiful country that is a little more low-key or unspoiled I think you can find it if you search hard enough, but if you wait another 5-10 years you're going to be out of luck.

I don't have a ton of pictures from this last week, but here they are...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/dAd2SdNZzNP3SEsy7

Take 'er easy,
Dave