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Hakuna Matata: Zanzibar

An early morning shuttle took us to the Airport where we hopped onto a larger prop plane, headed to Zanzibar. The seatback magazine recipe for a shrimp dish kept me entertained while my seat mate took photos from their window seat.

I had packed my camera and lenses in my day pack, nestled at my feet and was able to get a couple photos with the help of my seat mate, and looked out over mainland Africa one last time before the attendant gave me my mango juice and cashews. (Definitely felt like a step up from tomato juice and peanuts.)

Our arrival into Stonetown, my group descended the staircase and crossed the tarmac into the terminal. My bag came off the carousel when rounding the conveyor corner, landing with a loud THUD. I counted my lucky stars that I transfer my lenses to my small pack for flights.

Outside the airport we joined up with another GAdventures group that had just finished climbing Kilimanjaro, and bypassed the safari segment that the crew who continued with me had done. Our trip had departed a few good people, and gained a few more. By the end of the trip I counted up that I had made 20 new acquaintances from 7 countries, and from the US from 4 other states. Talking with my guides, they both said that one of the reasons they love their jobs is the very different people they get to meet from all over, and getting to show people their little corner of the world.

Our next guide for this portion of the trip, Kombi, loaded us up into a bus and headed into the city to our first nights accomodation: The Spice Palace. To get to our hotel, the bus cannot make it down any streets in the main city. The narrow streets being from long before car transportation was a consideration in building plans. We loaded all of our bags onto a wooden cart, making a towering mound of all the luggage. A smaller older gentleman who approached and loaded it began to pull it down the alleys. We follow, stopping at the stairs at the front of our hotel, each of us claiming our bag and beginning the check in process.

After dropping bags in our rooms, there our group gathered and made our way to lunch at a nice little place near the beach, The Silk Route. The first thing we noticed was how friendly the stray cats were to tourists. No doubt having their share of seafood from the tourists who take pity on the creatures. To that end, Its safe to say that Zanzibar probably doesn’t have a rodent problem.

After lunch we went to the historic slave market museum. Stonetown had been the major slave trade port for Arab controlled East Africa. on the historic grounds they had the ‘whipping tree’ which had been cut down, and over its place a church was built, a circle on the floor where the tree used to stand. The displays in the museum showing the evolution of the slave market, and the original holding cells for the slaves before they were loaded onto ships. It was a somber experience, but one I am glad gets visited and people learn this history.

Sample of one of the displays

We took a walking tour of the town after, learning about the ties of stone town to Queens’ Freddie Mercury, the town even hosting the Freddie Mercury Museum. A group of kids down at the sea wall were filming jumping into the bay with poster boards reading ” Welcome to Zanzibar!”, shouting ‘HAKUNA MATATA!’ and ‘WAKANDA FOREVER!’ We continued down the narrow ally ways, where doors are adorned with large spikes. The reason? People who moved into these areas were from India and would have spikes on the door to keep elephants from barging in. When they moved to this city, with streets far too narrow for elephants to ever pose a risk, the style of door came along anyway.

Back at the hotel, I joined the Canadians and the Aussies for a drink at the rooftop bar. The resident stray coming up when I notice he was underdeveloped and was missing an eye. My own cat at home being massive and named Sully after the Monsters Inc character, I felt it was only fitting to nickname this little guy Mike Wazowski.

That night we all ventured off for the night markets, which was a bustling scene of food vendors and people. Our guide recommended certain foods we could try if we were feeling adventurous, but warned against others as it’s ‘laid out’ a few westerners.

Finishing up at the Freddie Mercury Bar, we dined and drank and listened to some wonderful local live music before making our way back to our hotel.

Next Time: Visiting a Spice Plantation, given the royal treatment, and getting visiting my first resort.

If everything went as planned, we wouldn’t have adventures.

A sim card that works in Europe, Check. Camera lenses, Check. Journal, Check. A timelapse of my suitcase packing itself, Check.

I was ready to go to Europe weeks in advance. This would be my big trip ending with the milestones and the age “30 by 30”. My 30 countries by 30 years old.

There were rumblings through the news of some strange virus spreading into and through Europe, Covid-19. Two weeks before my trip Venice is quarantined. We received the notification that it would be affecting the trip for all Americans. Then Italy was a “no-go”. Ok, I would travel with the group as far as Solvenia and then make my own way around Italy going north. I’ve soloed over 10 years, one week on my own is really easy to manage.

I catch my flight to London, as my flights are not cancelled and the UK is still considered open for travel.

Having Just arrived, I was recommended to take the tube, that almost anything can be accessible by tube. There was even a stop just a bock from my hotel. Jet lagged and adventurous I make my way to Piccadilly, and going by ‘when in Rome do as Romans do’, minded my own as I rode in silence. Then a very welcome interruption got my attention. One of the fellow passengers had gone to the University of Colorado, and had seen my CU patch that I had put on my bag with my world flags that has become a ‘souvenir’ while simultaneously decorating my luggage. We chat presently to the station, got a few tips of things I must see. Small world making for fond travel memories.

Once at my hotel and checked in I hit the town running. The British museum and its virtually empty exhibits. I stood in front of the Rosetta Stone unobstructed by any other visitor. Saw Cleopatra, and the Greek marbles that were the subject of so many of my museology classes. A segment of the Egyptian book of the dead, and viking chess pieces. Even a Merman, (which was claimed to be caught in Japan, but was later revealed to be the top half of a monkey sewn onto the bottom half of a fish. This ‘curiosity’ is still in the museum and is part of a great narrative about the collection of specimen.)  This museum has been a dream of mine to visit. The stories of splendors, the treasure looted during the British empire, gifted during explorations for the knowledge of the world, making way for the idea of the ‘other’. Rooms having free tours hourly, and very specific curated tours and talks for an additional ticket.

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The Maya Stelae that captured my love of archaeology, that I had translated in undergrad with who I considered my mentor in the field (shout out to Dr. Inga Calvin) sat before me, adhered to the walls under angled lights to show the texture in their carved surface. The grey stone I started to imagine in the colours that Inga had us apply to the different parts of the text. I was reading the hieroglyphs in front of me. Dates, rulers, and intricate images of the bloodletting. The sculpture of the ruler Waxaklajuun Ub’aah K’awiil, or “18 rabbit” whom was the basis of much amusement in my Mayan classes, sat just outside the room with the Mayan figures.

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I retreated back toward the hotel to call it a night and the whole world changed.

The next morning my phone was blowing up with new alerts, the US was closing down travel with Europe. There was no warning for Americans abroad and no way to contact the American consulate, as their phone was in a constant state of ‘busy signal’. (Later I heard that the announcement resulted in a wave of American tourists fleeing to the airports in fear that they would not be allowed back home unless they left immediately.)

I am very much a “if its out of your control, don’t worry about it, plan for it” traveler, I figured I would give it a few hours, come up with plans, and then act accordingly.

I went on my previously scheduled tour of the Harry Potter Studios, reliving my childhood and hopes of receiving my owl as I was re-reading the first book as I turned 11. Much like the British Museum, the studio wasn’t crowded, though there were plenty of other Potter nerds like myself to bask in the glory of both the books and the films, and this wonderful place where those worlds merged. The goblet of fire shot out a piece of paper the tour guide put in, and as it rolled away the small group just watched. After her demonstration was over I walk over and pick up the paper to hand back, which she then tells me I can keep. I unroll it and it has the messy hand writing “Harry Potter”. Tour guides keep these papers for the demonstration, and all those that thought it was just a scrap piece of paper missed out on a really cool souvenir. I flew over the streets of London on a broomstick, Washed down lunch with a butter beer, then boarded the bus back to reality. My advice for anyone that goes, the tours are about 5 hours. Take your time! and don’t forget your Harry Potter passport to get stamped in the different areas around the tour.

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When I walk into the hotel room, a new suitcase is laid out on the bed, and I meet my assigned roomate for the night. We do a quick greeting and then I’m asked “have you heard the news?” This was a phrase that is now burned into my brain. They had cancelled ALL tours that day at lunch time. I quickly make my way towards the tour desk, on my way seeing another traveler smoking on the picknic table outside. I know the gist of whats happening, this confirms it. “That bad?” She replied between puffs of smoke “Worse.”

While on the bus back to the hotel, I had a inkling this could happen. I tried to come up with plan B. And C…. And D

Plan B: Make my way through Europe on my own. My flights were in and out of London, my roommate and new friend was equally as adventurous to the idea of making our way.

Plan C: going to my 30 countries, calling the trip a little early, and see about changing return flight home.

I went to see Tower Bridge, walking a good portion of London.

Overnight the announcement was made that the UK would join the list of Europe to be cut off from the US.

Plan D… My Month long Europe trip was reduced to a 4 day weekend. I changed my flights and was able to get one leaving Monday morning direct from London to Denver.

While wondering around with an Australian and Canadian, we stopped for some fish and chips at Ben’s Traditional FIsh and Chips, where the shop runners were pleasant men, originally from Turkey. I started to be told about an amazing church structure that was in their hometown that is from 10,000 BC. Gobekli Tepe. My go-to travel list just got longer, and over all, it was a very pleasant short trip to a big city that, while I have visited before, Now had more time to explore. I was going to make the most of my couple of days in London, and went to explore a few places that had been on my “if I’m ever in London again” list, and discovered a magnificent chain of coffee shops. Pret A Manger. French for ‘ready to eat’. This became my staple coffee place, and where I would take the Australians I met along the way.  We did the hop-on-hop-off bus tours, went up the Shard to look out over London, and had drinks at the rooftop of the Tate Modern (a museum nerd checklist item).

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The next day, I met up with my Aussies and we continued to make London ‘magical’ with Parts 1 & 2 of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child at the Palace Theater. The effects, the cast, and the atmosphere of the theater experience added an aspect to my trip that I didn’t realize I was missing.  If you’re a fan of Harry Potter, you may not have seen yourself cheering for a Slitheryn any time in the near future, but alas, J.K. Rowling made it happen.

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Monday morning I was packed and made my way to the airport, this time much more familiar with the Tube. This turned out to be the LAST flight that was being allowed to go into Denver from London. Everything else was going to have to go through a CDC approved airport. The flight attendants had already had their flights home cancelled. The previous panic had resulted in this flight being empty enough that everyone had their own row. The overarching sense of fear, the questioning about had any of us been to anywhere else in Europe, gave way to the pleasure of having a full row to lay down in while I watched my inflight movie with a complementary glass of wine.

In the words of Dumbledore “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Waterfalls, Cliff jumping, and the GoPro “Hero”

Down on the Gold Coast, away from the high-rises of Surfers paridise and off the path of public transportation, is Killarney Glen. The area is winding roads and farmland, and we would have probably missed the trail head if not for the line of cars parked hundreds of meters on either side of the local attraction. A swimming hole, known as the Killarney Glen waterfall, is a heart-shaped pool fed by a 6 meter waterfall, lined with spectators on a warm summer Saturday afternoon.


Spectators gathered as timid individuals gathered courage for their leap, while those who frequent the pools tried their hand at flips, all aiming for the deep water. Just off of the “jumping area” is a small grotto, which accumulated jumpers to spectate from a view they achieved from their jump. Families, twenty-somethings, teens on easter break, lined the top of the cliff faces either to watch, or when waved forward from the other side of the canyon, to jump.

I’m afraid of heights. I’ve never been graceful, and feel that standing on something tall makes me ‘kinetic energy’. In high school I would jump with my friends in Colorado into the Arkansas river. Not high, still terrifying. I would swing from our boat into the water in the Bahamas. It took me about 5 minutes of looking out 2 meters below me before I could make the jump. And to this day, as silly as it feels, I hold my nose.

Fastforward, I am standing in a dried up wash-out that juts out over the ‘deep water’, 4-5 meters below me. GoPro strapped to my wrist, though my hands were flat on the rock on either side of me for stability. The girl behind me, no more than 10 years old, comments on my shaking. Her older sister, about 12, wants to help me out by giving me a count down. At first I didn’t notice, since all I could think was ‘S#!t, this is high.’ I try to get in the zone during the second countdown, but psych myself out somewhere between “…3…” and “…2…”. Seconds later I pull myself together, ask her for one last count, and at “…1”, step off the cliff.

 


(Taken with a Nikon and Sigma Wide-angle lens, uploaded with eye-fi.)

I felt the rush of wind then cold water, then the feel of the strap of my GoPro slide over my small wrist. I surface and accept that the camera may have been claimed by the river gods, and briefly remember a youtube video of a GoPro that fell in a river and was found a couple years later. Oh, well.

I swim to the mermaid grotto, and attempt to slide onto the surrounding rocks, helped by a new friend, and mentioned that the camera went the way of the waterfall. The next jumper, a young blond guy was about to swim past when we asked “is there any chance of finding a GoPro over there where I jumped?” “GoPro?” The kid smiled, turned around, and dove. He surfaced seconds later to applause, with my camera in hand.

I tried to find him after to thank him, and couldn’t. He had one green eye, and one blue eye, and was kind enough to fetch a strangers camera. To you sir, if you are reading, THANK YOU!

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(Screenshot from the GoPro of the good samaritan)

Update: added video March 27. Keep an eye out at ~2:30.

SE Asia in a Nutshell: Part 2

Ho Chi Minh City / Saigon

Saigon snapped me back into the mode of car dodging. The bustling city and flash night life was starting to draw on me, and the more active days with calm nights was a relief. Our first day of exploring took us into the Mekong Delta where we saw islands that were dedicated to different productions. One for coconut, one for honey, another for crafts. We were able to try fresh coconut candy, and were offered snake wine.

Snake wine, as some may know, is a harsh liquor that resembles cheap whisky. The triangular bottle houses bits of ginger root and a snake with a scorpion in its mouth. And it tastes exactly like what it sounds like. Sharp, spicy and strong.

Continuing on, we went to another island where we were paddled down a river in the small traditional wooden Can Tho small boats. We were making our way through the bamboo lined river when we noticed that all of the boats that were passing us in the opposite direction were waving at us and pointing to folded dong (the currency) in their hand. It took us a few boats to realise that they were signalling that we were supposed to tip our driver. If there is one thing I learned in Vietnam, nothing is free. Thankfully it’s all very cheap.

Cambodia – Phnom Penh

 

 We drove for about 8 hours the next day, which included the boarder crossing into Cambodia. The crossing was new for me, since we were coming in by coach and everyone on the bus had to give their passports to the bus driver who would give them to the customs official when we stopped. We had to take our valuable items off the bus and went into a large concrete ware-house looking building with the customs desks at the far end. We waited patiently as the customs official handed our passports back to our tour guide, who would call us forward and direct us to the bus that had moved forward to the buildings’ exit. I was nervous, as would anyone would be who has grown up knowing that it’s not the safest to part with your passport, especially in another country. Tom Tom, our guide, did a great job of reassuring us and definitely made the border crossing experience a quick and easy one. In Phnom Penh, we spent a day at the S21 prison and Killing fields.

 

Warning: the following may not be suitable for children to read. It was tough to visit. It was tough to write.

 

The bloody history of the Kumar Rouge regime is an unpublicised holocaust. The regime had gone around to the neighbouring areas and ‘recruited’ anyone who had a skill other than farming, knowing they would be a threat to the power of the Kumar Rouge. Trades people, and especially doctors and teachers, all brought to the prison under false pretence of jobs and a better life. Extending their reach, they decided to take whole families. After all a child could grow up to seek revenge. After being relocated to the S21 prison that was converted out of an old high school when the city of Phnom Penh had been deserted, the few remaining locals were resettled in neighbourhoods away from the school, and the screams. Millions of people were killed in that era. There were only eleven survivors; seven prisoners of the S21 prison, and four additional children who were smuggled and hiding in the kitchen. The others that were in the prison were executed quickly once the Kumar Rouge realised they were going to loose power, and took many of their prisoners the ten minute drive to the killing fields. The prison is renovated in some areas to show what it looked like before. Another area was converted to a museum area. And the last was left just as it was found, down to the occasional bloodstain. If the holocaust museum was built at Auschwitz, I imagine the tone would be close.

The killing fields, which are still not fully excavated, reveal bone and clothes after forty years. While walking along the raised boardwalk that winds through the fields, bones and bullets can be found within a foot on either side. In the middle of the field is a large memorial, where the skulls are displayed on shelves that create an encased pillar in the middle of the room, about 10X10 feet (3X3 meters).

I studied physical anthropology in my undergrad and we were able to work with bones of mummies that had been donated to the university. We learned how to determine gender, age, and certain causes of death that could be seen in bones. By the second panel of bones in the killing fields, I didn’t need to read the plaque. Adult, 25- 30, female, shot in the middle of her forehead. The next side of the pillar – children and under 20’s, some with their skulls not completely fused. After all, that only happens if you get the chance to grow up.

The history is dark, and for a few hours you feel any happiness sucked from you. Because of this repetition of history, I think if you are passing through Cambodia, you need to visit. Not because I want you to feel helpless to the carnage of the past, but because I really want people to remember, and not do insane atrocities again. At the least, the museum area has photos that the Kumar rouge had taken for records, which were the last many of the people had while they were alive. Personally, I like to learn about them so that they are not forgotten.

 Me with one of the 7 survivors of S21, Chum Mey, selling autographed copies of his book “survivor”.

Siem Reap

 

Right. Back to the fun, not-so-depressing stuff!

 

We drove in a small private bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, stopping for a brief break at a roadside stand that specialized in a wide selection of deep fried creepy-crawlies. Of course, this is where my adventurous palette and I stepped up to the plate and ordered a tarantula and a few crickets. I have to say it – the tarantula tasted like chicken. It’s true. Like over fried, a little dry, crispy-breaded chicken. The crickets? Well, they just tasted like cricket. Not exciting in flavour other than the spices that it was cooked with. Just remember to take off the legs and wings, or you might find yourself with a cricket getting caught in your throat half-way down.


The next two days were spent at the Angkor Wat temple complex.

The first day we left the hotel at 4 am, clambering into the bus to go get our ticket and venture to the temple to watch the sunrise. As we made our way through the dark, I couldn’t even see the faint outline of any buildings. The new moon left the sky pitch black, with only a blanket of stars and plants to tell where – approximately – the sky ended and the horizon began. As the sun came up, the sky turned a faint pink, and the reflection created a magnificent silhouette of temple and palm trees against the dark plum of the cool morning sky.

Inside the temple walls we watched the sun rise, reflected in the small ponds that were originally built as water throughs for elephants. (Transport for the elite.)


The main temple was originally constructed with a mixture of Hindu and Buddhist architecture, and was meant as a communal worshiping place for both religions. There are monks that still practice here too.


The next temple we went to was the Bayon, also known as the face a temple. Each of the many rooftops has one face per a side, built to face the four directions. In the temple you can explore the maze of ruins, taking photos in the windows and has fewer visitors. The faces in the tops of the towers are kind of fun too.


We next visited the “Tomb Raider” temple, where the film was mainly shot, but between the heat and fighting a large crowd of people to get any photos, within an hour we were ready to move on.

 


The last temple we visited was “the hospital”, which was on an island that could only be reached by walking along a narrow wooden boardwalk above a bog. In Ancient times, they believed that the body ran off the four elements; fire, earth, wind, and water. The ‘hospital’ was five intricately carved stone pools, four on the outside and one large one in the middle. When you were sick, a medicine man would determine which of your elements was ‘missing’ and you would be ritually bathed in the coordinating pool to make you healthy again. If you were really close to death, you would be considered missing most of your elements and would be bathed in the large pool in the canter.


Our last night in Siem Reap, as part of our tour, we were taken to dinner at the New Hope restaurant. The New Hope Restaurant was created to give women working in sex work the opportunity to learn new skills and create a new life for themselves. The foundation grew and built a school that teaches English, a required skill for all the hospitality jobs. This was something that was organised as part of our GAdventures trip, and was amazing to be able to support.

 

Fun fact: The elephant ponds at the main temple of the Angkor Wat complex were converted temporarily into a ‘fishing village’ in 2001 for the movie Tomb Raider. Restaurants in town still have their menus tagged with dishes that Angelina Jolie ordered when they were filming in Cambodia. The temple where they did most of the filming, the one with the trees growing into and around the buildings, is actually very small and very crowded. Be ready to have to fight your way through a crowd at any of the major temple sites.

 

The smaller “face temple”, or the Bayon, is massively underrated, and really worth a visit.

 

Thiland – Bangkok

Bangkok provided us with our amazing race experience to the Wat Pho, the 600 foot Buddha statue.


We thought it closed to the public at 5 pm. We arrived at our hotel by bus at 4, so four of us girls ran down and grabbed a tuk tuk. The guy said that he couldn’t get there because of construction and we would need to take a boat. He brought us to the ferry terminal and the boat man (who obviously knew him) waves us over and tries charging us $40 for a boat ride that we knew should have been $3 each at most. We talk him down to $7 each and then instead of taking the water bus, he flags down a “water taxi” which is one of the long skinny traditional boats. Note: It doesn’t do well on waves and every time we hit a wake I thought the boat was going to break in two. When we pull up to the dock and there is a lengthy line for the water bus that we had originally planed on. We realized that the little boat may have been the best option, as now it is 4:45 and Wat Pho closes at 5 PM, we had to hurry. There was a dock hand that was helping the long skinny boats dock then you had to pay a “docking fee” which was just another way to rip off tourists. We paid it just wanting to get out of there and get to the Wat before it closed and took off in the general direction. We made it to the main crossroads by a government building, and start to question our sense of direction. Thankfully many of the buildings in the cities are guarded by armed guards and we figured “Lets ask the men with the machine guns for directions”. They smiled and told us that it was just around the block “down and to the left”, so we took off in that direction. We reached the next corner where once again we couldn’t find Wat pho, so we ask another set of armed guards. They also tell us “Down and to the left”, so we continue on to the opposite corner of the complex from where we started, but arrived at 4:55. Frantic, we tried finding an entrance where we can get a couple pictures before getting kicked out, and I saw the open sign that displayed “hours 8am to 6pm”. We had a whole hour before it closed.


Inside the complex, there were several structures covered in a tile mosaics that made me think of something out of Willy Wonka. The big temple that houses the reclining Buddha is MASSIVE. The outside is stark white, while inside is reds and gold leaf decoration. The statue itself was gold, and hard to take in at any one location in the temple.


We wondered around the complex, and a group of the monks were just ending their prayers for the day and wondering around as well. When it was time to go we walked out the front door, and there was a tuk tuk that was able to bring us back to the door of our hotel… no construction to cause delays.

 

Chiang Mai

 

In Bangkok our groups parted ways. My ticket home was booked out of Chiang Mai, and I had no choice but to go look around. Still hesitant about traveling alone, I found that one of my fantastic new friends from the tour was also headed north to Chiang Mai, and we were going to meet a few days later.

While traveling through Cambodia, I discovered that Tom Tom, our guide, was from Chiang Mai and asked her for any advice about doing things and getting out on some adventures.  She told me about an Elephant riding outfit that she recommended because they take care of their elephants, saying there are cheaper programs, but she wont vouch for the treatment of the elephants. (Elephants are the SE Asian equivalent to work horses, there is still much debate about the ethics in riding them. Not to worry, there are a number of tour companies in Chiang Mai that offer elephant programs where you don’t ride the elephant, and still get to feed, bathe and pet it.) I was also advised that riding bareback is easiest on the elephants rather than riding with “saddles”, much easier for the elephants to handle and get used to, and can be trained through rewards. (FYI, They love bananas.) The program we went on took us hiking to a waterfall, where we were given samples of edible plants along the way. When the guide, had a large ant trying to bite his thumb, I pointed it out, and he shrugged casually and said “Its an ant.” And ate it. We stopped for a more substantial meal after the waterfall and had a local lunch of a yellow chicken curry on rice. Another part of the tour was to visit the Hilltribe people. They are part of the same overarching tribe as the long necks, though the practice of waring rings on their neck is dyeing out.

Originally there was the belief that members of the tribe born during a full moon would be more likely to be attacked by a tiger, and since tigers will attack the throat, tribes people originally wrapped their necks in rattan. As rattan is easy for teeth to get through, the tribes people switched to copper rings, which would offer more protection against tiger attacks. The practice is fading out because of the dwindling tiger populations, and the fading of superstition that your chances of being attacked coordinate with the lunar cycle you were born under.

If you want to guarantee seeing the long neck tribes people, there are settlements that the Thai government established for tourism.

We continued into the forest to a farm where we rode elephants bareback for about an hour around the property. We walked down to the small creek where we were the elephants could swim, and then back to the farm.  Before leaving our elephants we spent some time just walking with them, feeding them bananas as treats. Finishing off the day, we did some bamboo rafting down a river that was cool, and quiet.


Another aspect of what I have found to be deemed “questionable tourism” is tiger photos. I have heard of the Tiger Temple, which is notorious for drugging and abusing its tigers. So I researched, did some asking around and homework, and found another outfit – Tiger Kingdom – which is more popular for its cub photos, because they have a lot of restrictions on who is allowed to take photos with the larger tigers. Given the size and nature, and the lack of information surrounding the larger tigers, there is speculation as to if the tigers are drugged.  The cubs however, were jumping and playing and each had 2 handlers on standby, with all of our moves guided by the handlers of what to do and when.  Since this was a bucket list item, I brought my camera and got to spend a bit of time playing with some tiger cubs. When my travel buddy and I left the enclosure, we just looked at each other and asked “did that really just happen?”

Singapore

When traveling to and to and from the field school/Chiang Mai I flew in and out of Singapore. With a 9-hour layover on the way to Vietnam, I had booked a hostel in the city, and decided I was going to use my time wisely sight-seeing.

I was sitting at my gate in the Brisbane airport when I hear a familiar voice call my name. It was one of my classmates that, I admit, I didn’t hang out with very much outside of class. She and I discover that we were on the same flights, and I invited her to join me at my hostel if she was up for the adventure. She agreed and we navigated out of customs, (thankfully for both US and Australian passports, you do not need to apply for a tourist visa,) grabbed some fast food, and caught the bus that was hostel bound.

We checked in, dropped our stuff, and hailed a taxi to the Gardens by the Bay. The gardens have large greenhouse pavilions and a walkway through the manmade industrial trees, but they both close at 8 pm. We ventured along the walkways, finding an outdoor aquarium, and vantage points of the clusters of large plant-like structures. Lit in a neon blue, the structures resembled giant trees that mushroomed at the top, greenery growing up the sides, and white spots of light doted the tops like stars. A few hours of wondering around the gardens and it was time to attempt a few hours sleep before our morning flight to Vietnam.


 
On the way back from Thailand, again I had a lengthy layover. This time seven hours. Singapore airport has won multiple awards as the “Best airport in the world”. I took the time to wonder around and find what the hype was about.

The airport has a hotel, public pool, two movie theatres, a game centre, free Internet, free massage chairs, and so much more. Gym? Yup. Butterfly garden with a waterfall? You bet. I find myself wondering if I can book an international flight back just to visit the airport.

 

 

Endless sunsets, rolling hills, blistering heat. Yup, its Christmas.

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the farm, everyone was busy with horses in the barn.
The toddler hung his paper snowflake with care, in hopes that chocolate biscuits were near.
Santa came early, with presents of joy! A flash green bike for a good little boy.
During the smoke’o, everyone gathered, enjoying shade and coffee, (or tea if they rather.)
There was a first gingerbread house for young and old. It was just like in the stories they had been told!

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And because I like ‘getting in the spirit’ archaeological style…

On the twelfth day of Christmas archaeology gave to me,
Twelve trowels sharpened
Eleven students digging
Ten test pits surveyed
Nine sifters sifting
Eight hours sitting
Seven days of digging
Six ice cold beers
FIVE ARTIFACTS!
Four wall collapses
Three sore asses
Two stressed grads
And an A in archaeology!
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