50 Days

That's how long this trip has been. I really can't believe that today we'll all return to the US. Because the last 50 days have been particularly full/totally insane, for my final posting from abroad I wanted to give a little statistical version of what exactly has gone down on this seven week voyage around these awesome parts of the world.

We have visited Los Angeles, Nadi, Yasawa Islands, South Fiji, Auckland, Waiheke, Wellington, Picton, Christchurch, Queenstown, Sydney, Blue Mountains, Manly Beach, Balmoral, Bondi, Melbourne, Kuala Lumpur, Saigon, Danang, Hoi An, Hanoi, Halong Bay, Bangkok, Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, Hong Kong, Kowloon, Beijing and Mongolia.

Number of beds slept in (including overnight train and boat rides): 32

Number of flights (including those home today): 19

Number of ferries and/or boats taken: 21

Number of trains and/or trams taken (not including the train I got off of in Vietnam): 14

Buses taken: 36

Number of cabs taken (including 22 in Beijing alone so far): 56

Number of tuk tuks ridden: 6

Number of bikes ridden: 3

Number of times laundry has been done: 4

Number of meals together: Approximately 150

Number of photos taken: Approximately 4,000

Steps walked: I think over a billion probably.

French fries eaten: Countless

Times I've pulled Rosie's photo out of my wallet to show to total strangers: Remarkably enough, less than 10.

Beds Laura and I have shared: 6
Number of those that weren't quite doubles and were just box springs: 2
Number of those that had no air conditioning in the room: 1
(However, I cannot complain as two nights ago Everett and Laura were forced to share a twin bed with Everett in his sleeping bag after his cot collapsed)

Water bottles consumed: I actually think 700 is not an unreasonable estimate.

Number of public toilets used: More than I've used in the rest of my life combined.

Amount of times Everett has threatened to slap Laura or me in the face: At least 27.
Amount of times Everett has been slapped in the face: 1

Number of Asians Laura has made angry: What is the population of Vietnam?

Number of people who have actually finished reading this ridiculous entry: Probably just Everett and Laura. Actually, probably just Laura as Everett tells me on a daily basis that he doesn't read my blog. So, if you have read this and/or any of my other random ramblings over the last several weeks, thanks for reading- I really appreciate it. This blog is about to return to fairly dull postings about my dachshund, but I hope you've enjoyed this documentation of what has truly been, as they say, the trip of a lifetime.

Laffy Taffy

After I returned to our room last night after completing the last blog entry Everett and Laura reminded me of an incident that occured yesterday that I'd completely forgotten to write about. They insisted that it needed to be documented and I think they're right.

So, for the trip that we took to the Great Wall you're hiking for four hours in the middle of the day. This means that not only is it a good idea to bring ALOT of water along, but you should also pack a lunch. Not ones to miss meals, we planned far in advance for this lunch. We actually had Everett's friend Grace take us to the most Americanized grocery store I've seen in Asia where we went crazy as if we hadn't seen things like peanut butter and Nacho Cheese doritoes in years. We purchased plenty of water, a few small snacks and the makings for peanut butter and jelly tortillas for the trip.

When we got back to our room very late in the evening/early in the morning the night before the hike, Laura insisted that we needed to pack our food bag. And then she went crazy. I was already in bed. Everett was in the bathroom. And Laura was grabbing everything she could find in the room to put in the bag. At one point she started rummaging through some snacks I'd purchased a few days before, tossing them in as well.

Somewhere in the midst of this packing frenzy, she decided to "sprinkle in" (her words) about 65 small candy cubes that look like Starbursts, but taste like laffy taffy. She had purchased them a few days before and hadn't even liked them when she bought them. But for some reason she thought they'd be perfect for our trip to the Great Wall. Actually, not just perfect, she apparently thought we'd be eating them for the entire trip, from the time we woke up in the morning until we climbed in bed at night because there was no other way you could ever eat all of that laffy taffy.

The best part of this though was that Everett and I had no idea about the laffy taffy until it was time to break for lunch. At this point Everett had been carrying the pack the entire time and at one point his water bottle had begun to leak inside. The leak plus the laffy taffy was a disaster. When we pulled out lunch there was a thin film of laffy taffy on EVERYTHING - including Everett's bag. Exasperated, Everett dumped his entire bag right in the middle of the Great Wall of China. This prompted an old lady with a broom to come up and offer to sweep it up. All in all, it was a disaster. However, the debris was eventually cleaned up, lunch was eaten, and Laura was disappointed in her apparent goal to make the "Great Wall trip" the "Let's eat laffy taffy all day trip."

撒阿鹅叫快

(That doesn't mean anything. I just wanted a title in Chinese characters.)

China has been intense.

Several things have made it this way. First and foremost, there is a major language barrier here. For the first time in my life I can appreciate what it feels like not to speak the language everyone else around me does. Also, I have a newfound appreciation for Chinese people who learn to speak English because I'm pretty sure if I worked at it the rest of my life I couldn't speak Chinese. I keep trying to say "thank you" and it comes out sounding like a sneeze. However, we have been very lucky here in China to have Grace, my brother's college friend and possibly the world's best hostess/tour guide, to show us around and be our full time translator. (Last night, Grace left us on our own for the first time since the tragic train station arrival day. She told the taxi driver exactly where to go and sent us home. Within five minutes we were lost and certain we'd be sleeping on the streets of Beijing. So how do three clueless Americans find their way home with no Chinese? Laura recognized a KFC and of course we knew our way home from there. I think this pretty much makes us the ultimate Americans. We might as well have asked him to pull over and let us get some fried chicken.)

However, while Grace has seriously been, well, extremely gracious, she is also probably the most hard core tour guide I've ever met. I don't think there's anything left in the city or surrounding area of Beijing that I have not seen and/or learned about in the last few days. We have had early morning tours of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, late afternoon pedal boat rides around the summer palace, a quick stop by the new Olympic Stadium, nights out at popular expat bars, and more food than even I could manage to eat. It's been amazing. It's also worth noting that all of Grace's friends here are graduates of schools like Harvard or Princeton, they're all working on some version of a PhD or MBA and they all speak fluent Chinese. So I feel like a complete idiot pretty much all the time.

Today was an especially intense day. After getting back from random Beijing bars in the wee hours of the morning (including one that we accessed by crawling over a fence into a closed, dark park- something I never anticipated doing in a communist country) we had to be up at 5:15 a.m. to head to the Great Wall for a four hour hike. I almost died on that hike. I blame this partially on the pollution here in China. It's out of control. My eyes have been bloodshot, my lungs have been congested and my throat has hurt since we crossed the border. Beijing is so hazy it's hard to see more than a few buildings away at times. I will be very interested come August to see how Olympic athletes handle it. (Do you like how I just compared myself to an Olympic athlete? I mean, if you'd seen me on this hike today, I think you'd understand.) Anyway, it was a hard hike. 11 kilometers felt like about 111111 miles as it involved some serious stair climbing. But it was cool. And at the end we got to go on a zip line across a river so I liked that part.

Tonight is our final night of the trip. As a treat after our hike, Grace took us to a massage place where we got Chinese massages. Grace warned us before we went that occasionally traditional Chinese massages can be a little painful as they are all about pressure points. I said I could handle it. Grace, Laura and I were in the same room and somehow, of all of the masseuses in all of China, I got one who looked like she was a linebacker. Seriously, I don't know how it happened. My entire time in Asia I've felt freakishly large until this woman walked in tonight. I'm pretty sure she thought the point of the massage was to actually massage my internal organs through my back. At one point I thought I felt her rip my kidney out, but it was hard to tell. Anyway, hopefully it will keep me from being sore tomorrow.

Ah, tomorrow. The final day. Everett is flying out in the late afternoon and Laura and I leave in the evening. Laura is in a state of depression and while I'm sad that this trip is ending, the thought of squeezing Rosie in 48 hours makes me want to cry with joy. Ok, I'm ending this entry. Tomorrow I'll be writing the final one for the trip, but for now I have to go pack all my fake handbags and pirated DVDs.

Beijing

I don't really like taking responsibility for my mistakes. If it's ever possible, I will try my best to slyly push them off to someone else. And if my brother is around, it's almost certain that he is the one who will get blamed. And if I'm hungry when I'm doing the blaming, then chances are, it won't be so much "sly" as "overtly yelling that this is definitely the other person's fault."

However, when I began making a series of mistakes yesterday that culminated in Laura, Everett and I standing today in a crowd of about 5,000 Chinese people, not having eaten in 24 hours, having only had half a bottle of water during that time, and not having a single penny of accepted currency to our name, I didn't even have the strength or desire to blame someone else. I just wanted a Big Mac, a Diet Coke and a shower more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

You see, after all my big talk on this blog yesterday about our going to get snacks etc, we ran out of time. Also, it didn't really occur to us to get Chinese money before we left Hong Kong. Also, it didn't occur to us to make reservations at a hotel or hostel in Beijing before we got here. Also, it didn't occur to us to find the address of a hotel or hostel before we got here. So, you see, we have only ourselves to blame.

Yesterday afternoon, after we'd settled into our rooms on the train, Laura and I were hungry. We hadn't eaten anything since having muffins for breakfast and it was 3 o'clock. Laura went down to check out the food car and was met with a lot of yelling in Chinese and forcing her to go back to our room. Luckily Everett had purchased some random almond flavored cookies at the duty free shop at the train station, so we ate those.

Dinner time arrived and some guy yelling in Chinese came down the hall. We offered to buy something from him in Hong Kong dollars, he shook his head and kept walking. So, Laura and I ventured down to the food car again. This time we sat down at a table and began checking out a menu with photos of food on it. The only problem was that no one spoke English and we couldn't tell if they'd take our money. We also had very limited Hong Kong dollars so we didn't even know if we had enough money for dinner. After a lot of yelling, dirty looks shot our way, and some very exasperated Chinese people, Laura and I spread out our combined wealth of 50 Hong Kong dollars (that's about 7 USD)on the table, trying to explain that was all we had and hoping they would give us some food for it. Our "waitress," who pretty much hated us, scooped up the money and disappeared. Eventually, she reappeared with one dish that we could split between the two of us. Apparently that was all we could afford. We ate as if we'd never seen food.

Back in the room, we all had about half a water bottle left. We rationed them as the night wore on. Due to a severe lack of entertainment and Laura's addiction to ambien, the night was fairly short. We played a few rounds of 20 questions and one game of Ghost, which Laura was a asleep by the end of. We were all asleep before 10:30. And we all slept until around 10:30 a.m. The amazing thing was, the train was still moving when we woke up. I mean, there are long trips, and then there are 25 hour train rides. I feel like I'm still moving and we got off the train 5 hours ago.

By noon, our water was almost completely gone. I just kept mumbling about Big Macs. Everett pointed out that I was past the "angry" stage of hunger and had just moved on to depression. It's true. I felt like I wasn't sure life was worth living anymore. I think my stomach had started swelling from starvation. We all kept falling asleep because that's what happens when you're on a train for hours on end and haven't eaten or drank anything in what feels like eternity.

When we pulled into the Beijing train station, I've never been happier for fresh air. Of course, going through customs in communist China in a train station isn't as simple as one might think. Basically I kept getting moved around to different lines by different people. Like, one lady moved me to one line and then a man came up and told me that line was just for diplomats and yelled at me to get in another line. By the end, when another lady was trying to move me back into the diplomat line I just kept looking around like I didn't hear her, hoping I wasn't going to get thrown into prison before even making it through customs.

Finally, we were out of the train station. Except, not really. Because we had to get money and apparently finding an ATM in the Beijing West train station is like the exact opposite of trying to find a massage on the streets of Bangkok (it's impossible, in case that little reference was too much of a stretch). After lugging our insane amount of accumulated baggage around for about half an hour, I'd had enough. I was weak from thirst and tired of having the thousands of people lounging around the stations stare at me like I was crazy. I insisted that we deposit our luggage in one place where two of us could gaurd it and then the third would go in search of an ATM. I was nominated as that third person.

So, I went on the great search for an ATM. I would equivocate this to how Columbus must have felt going to the New World: discouraged, not sure if he'd ever find anything and weak from long hours on a moving vessel. Also, I understand that I don't look Chinese. I'm 5'9" with blond hair and blue eyes, but seriously, there is a major cultural difference in the amount of staring allowed by social norms here. I walked around for about 20 minutes looking for an ATM and I'm pretty sure I've never been stared at that much in the rest of my life combined.

I never did find an ATM. Well, actually, that's a lie. I did. But it wouldn't take my card. I also had to pass a KFC on my way to it which almost made me cry. I returned back to our spot and sent Everett out. 20 minutes later he returned with money and apple flavored water, which we all gulped down like we'd been in the dessert for days. I also hugged Everett long enough for him to get uncomfortable in the basement of the train station.

The thing is, you'd think this would be the end of the story. But that means that you've forgotten about our lack of hotel and/or hotel address planning. From the train station we ended up in a cab with an extremely friendly driver who spoke no English, but listened to a lot of Bob Marley as we drove through Beijing. It's odd to think that the next time I hear Bob Marley, I'll probably think of Beijing. We stopped at several hotels, drove around in circles and made a lot of gestures before ending up at a random hostel down an alley, which actually seems quite nice. It was 6:30 p.m. before we got to the hostel. I am pretty sure that it is purely through God's good grace we're here and not sleeping on the floor of Beijing West train station tonight.

And, don't worry, after chowing down at KFC (I insisted that we were strictly eating American food tonight) we stopped at a convenience store for snacks. There's a famous scene in Gone with the Wind when the main character, Scarlett, after a rather harrowing day during the Civil War era, starts pulling up dirt at sunset and screaming "I'll never be hungry again." That's kind of what I felt like in the convenience store. I am now armed with enough random food to make it through the four days. Maybe longer. I'll never be hungry again.

Headed to Beijing

Ok, so this is a very brief post because we're about to catch a train to Beijing. A 24 hour train to Beijing. That's a long train ride. So, I don't actually have to make this a short post due to catching the train, but rather because I have to purchase some snacks prior to 24 hours without constant availability of any kind of Pringles I want.

I had big plans to write about our time here in Hong Kong (a city that is basically London masquerading around as an Asian city - it has foggy weather, Marks & Spencer, Pret a Manger, pubs on every corner and thousands of British accents), however, my blogging time was cut short due to neccessary responses to several emails including a very serious one from my father regarding the risks of various diseases due to tattoos in Thailand. I have now explained to him that we didn't actually get tattoos so if anyone else was under the same misconception (mostly due to my blatant lying on my photo captions), don't worry. It was just henna. Everett and I don't have Hep B. At least not from seaside tatoos. Maybe from swimming in water where we kept seeing syringes washed up on the beach though. Who's to say?

Ok, I'll update when I get to Beijing - our final stop on this trip. (I can't say "final" in front of Laura anymore because she starts crying every time. She claims she's going to miss traveling, but I suspect she's really just going to miss sleeping in the same miniature double bed with me every other night.)

Thailand in Photos... Hong Kong in Words

I'm now just organizing my albums by country... something I probably should have been smart enough to do from the start, but the previous manner will have to do for now. Thailand was, unfortunately, a rather short stop on our trip. I say unfortunately because really all of us would have preferred that it was one of the longer ones, but due to timing we were a bit locked in.

We've spent the day in Hong Kong - the city where they say "East meets West." If that means that there are just as many Starbucks and McDonalds as there are any kind of Chinese restaurants, then yeah, it's where East meets West.

I had my first chai tea latte in weeks. I also experienced something else I haven't enjoyed in weeks: a day without sweat pouring out of every pore of my body. It was refreshing.

We did dim sum for lunch because, well, that's what you do in Hong Kong apparently. And, in our efforts to really embrace the culture, we ate some kind of crispy peking duck dish that took them forever to prepare and cost more than our beds last night. When it came, it was accompanied by some odd looking tortillas, some sauce and a few unidentifiable veggies. We looked at it for a long time. We had no idea what to do with it.

I hesitantly pulled one piece off with my chop sticks and put a little sauce on it, tasting it. Laura pulled a piece off and stared at it. Everett started to make a burrito out of it. About this time one of the waitresses walked by the table and looked at us as if we had smeared the sauce on each others arms and started gnawing on those. She started laughing and then came over to our table and prepared every last tortilla - she wasn't leaving anything to chance and clearly she thought it was obvious that we continued it would be a disaster. We were all grateful though as the duck tasted significantly better the way she did it.

We've tried to embrace the culture a few other ways as well. Today we went to a museum that taught me more about Hong Kong than I've ever known about the US. We also watched the nightly light show on the harbor. And we followed a random guy through a maze of smoky halls that smelled like bacon to see fake watches and handbags. So cultural.

Now I'm going to bed- luckily for our last night in this particular hotel. I learned today that where we're staying is the most densely populated area in the world. I think our building might be the most densely populated building in the area. Mostly by rats.

Enjoy the photos.

Hong Kong Night One

I didn't want to leave Thailand. I don't think any of us did really. Laura actually confessed to crying a little on the plane. It was just such a beautiful country where just about every person we met was kind and, perhaps best of all, everything was quite cheap - including some amazing food. (I know you've been wondering and you'll be pleased to know that not only did I meet my goal of Pad Thai every day - I exceeded it. Some days I ate it twice. I am now the size of a house.)

However, all good things must come to an end as they say and so at 6 a.m. this morning one of the guys from our hotel banged on the door of our ten dollar room and told us the taxi was there to take us to the airport. I did almost cry at that point, but that was much more to do with the exhaustion of only 6 hours of sleep after having none the night before.

In Bangkok we caught an Ethiopian Air flight to Hong Kong. This was my first time on Ethiopian Air. This could be because it only flies into Dulles in the US and from there it only flies to one place. So, the chances of me hopping on one of their flights in the past was fairly slim. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my airline food (Laura disagrees vehemently with this opinion), however, what was a bit of a struggle was the stench on the plane. The flight we got on had just arrived in Bangkok from Ethiopia so most of the people on the plane had been sitting there for about 14 hours. And as far as I could tell, they'd been sweating the entire time. At least that's what it smelled like. I mean, I'll give them the fact that the flight departed from Africa at 12:15 a.m. so that means they probably didn't shower just before and from what I hear, Africa is hot, but seriously, I've not been on a plane that smelled that bad in some time.

Arriving in Hong Kong we were pretty much clueless. I learned how to say a certain area of town I'd read was the tourist area and I ended up being shoved in front of Everett and Laura like 6 times as they tried to explain where we wanted to go. We eventually caught a train and then a bus to take us to the Holiday Inn in that section of town as I thought maybe that would be a decent enough area to find a room.

On the bus we met an American who was like a walking Lonely Planet guide to Hong Kong. He could not have been more helpful and as we were getting off he pointed us to a hostel around the corner from the Holiday Inn. Apparently in Hong Kong you're either staying in expensive spots or total dumps. I longingly looked at the Holiday Inn which Everett, before even walking inside, pronounced was WAY out of our price range - first time I've ever had to deal with that knowledge regarding a Holiday Inn- and made the executive decision we were going to the hostel.

I feel like I've probably complained about hostels a lot on this trip so I'm not going to go into detail here. In fact, I'll just list three things about it and then you can make your own decisions when you see the photos. 1) There are random stray cats wandering the halls and signs posted on the walls about permits from the city to have rat poison in a public place. 2) There is a sweat shop on our floor that we pass every time we walk from the "lobby" (see reason for quotes in number 3) to the room. 3) The lobby doubles as a Tae Kwon Do fighting area.

However, Hong Kong looks awesome thus far. We had dinner at a sushi spot (incidentally at a table next to a prostitute and her American man who we flew from Bangkok with) and drinks at an Irish pub (at my insistence). Now, Laura's pulling out her bed bug ridden sleeping bag and Everett's using the hostel's assigned toilet paper (we were given one roll at check in and told we pay extra if we want another- sorry, that is technically four, but I really couldn't help myself).

Full Moon

Before I came here I was told that the Full Moon party in Thailand was supposed to be one of the craziest and most fun parties in the entire world. With a reputation like that, I planned our entire trip to ensure that we would be here for this supposedly amazing party. As the time drew closer to it, I began to get nervous that maybe this would kind of be a 'New Years Eve kind of scenario' where there's just too much build up and the night ends up being kind of a dud. However, as it turns out, the party more than lived up to its rep. I'm going on somewhere close to 40 hours with no sleep so bear with me in this description. Some events of the evening have been edited due to a)it was a long night and there was just too much going on and b) certain viewership on this site prohibits much above a G rating.

8:00 p.m. - Laura, Everett and I board a small bus that will take us to a speed boat to cross from our island to Koh Phangan, the island where the party is held.

8:10 p.m. - We convince the bus driver to put in his 50 Cent CD. And turn it up. Everett keeps yelling "7 a.m.!" because thats when he says we're staying at the party until. He'd been saying this for days.

8:45 p.m. - After driving in circles for the last 45 minutes and making random convenience store stops for drinks, our driver finally locates another group he was supposed to pick up. It's three crazy Scottish backpackers and they're taking swigs from a fifth of liquor that they pass around the bus. While 50 Cent blares.

9:00 p.m. - We board the speed boat to the island with about 50 other very excited partiers.

9:20 p.m. - Laura and I were sitting in the front of the boat on the same side as the driver. I had a bottle of Sprite I'd decided I didn't want so I began to pour it out of the boat. Unfortunately, due to the fact that we were traveling at about 60 miles an hour and the angle of the bottle, I didn't take into consideration that the Sprite would go flying in the face of our boat driver. I didn't actually realize it had happened until the boat suddenly came to a total stop in the middle of the ocean. Laura turned to me and said "oh no, you think it's a shark?" (I don't know why we would stop for a shark). Then I hear Everett from below deck asking why in the world our driver had come to the bottom part of the boat and was pouring water bottles all over his face. Then I realized what had happened. I told Laura to act casual. As she still didn't know what had happened, that wasn't too hard. Then I explained and we both looked back to see the spray of Sprite across the windshield. Luckily, the rest of the people on the boat were really too drunk to know or care what happened. Except our now blind captain. I felt kind of bad about him.

9:40 p.m. - We arrive at Koh Phangan. And it is insane. The streets are packed with people making their way to the beach where the party is held. About every five feet another vendor is selling these buckets that basically include one can of soda, one can of red bull and about 12 shots of liquor as far as I can tell. We jump right in with the crowd and are soon carrying our multi colored buckets to the beach where we can hear techno pumping.

10:30ish p.m. - Everett has declared that we all need glow in the dark body paint. Just about every other person on the beach has it so we begin walking, looking for a place that will paint us. Walking down the packed beach involves stepping over about 35 passed out people just to go about 20 yards. We pause briefly to ask if we can help with one girl who looks like her friend just drug her out of the ocean.

11ish p.m. - Everett now has SAME SAME painted in blue across his chest. I have stars down my arm. Laura, who has flames down her arm, has turned the paintbrush on the painter and is painting stuff on his face.

11:30ish p.m. - A man who looks like Weird Al, but weirder, is dancing in front of a crowd of people wearing a leopard print speedo bathing suit. He then pulls down the bathing suit. Laura cheers and he comes off the stage to dance with her.

12ish a.m. - Everett and I lose Laura in a crowd. I stand up on a stool to find her, but then decide dancing on the stool is more fun than the sand and I end up staying there for a good half hour. Everett claims I began dancing like John Travolta 70's style as soon as my feet hit the stool. That's up for debate, but there are some photos that make it seem like it could be true.

12:45ish a.m. - Laura and I have lost Everett. We finally relocate him. Laura yells at Everett to quit disappearing. Everett yells at Laura that if she keeps talking to him like that he will slap her in the face. I take this as my cue to slap him in the face. He then shoves me across several Thai people and into the sand. Then he walks away while Laura yells after him "you're crazy! you're crazy!" That was the last time we saw Everett on Koh Phangan.

1ish a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the beach near the water watching about 85 guys lined up and down the beach peeing into the water. Laura is bawling crying saying that she is very angry at Everett and then alternatively profusely apologizing for complaining to me about my brother.

1:20ish a.m. - I literally pull Laura off the beach up to one of the bars, insisting that we only get to come to the Full Moon party once and we're going to make the most of it. We end up sitting on stools near the bar where eventually a British guy finds us and starts spouting off wise words of only living once and there is no pouting at the Full Moon Party... or something to that effect.

2ish a.m. - I am offered ectasy for about the 73rd time that night.

3ish a.m. - I am dancing and Laura is a few feet away. Suddenly, I feel water gushing onto my feet. I reach down and realize that the water is coming from a water bottle that I had in my purse. And it's not just leaking. Someone has slashed open the bottom of my new fake North Face bag in which I'm carrying both Laura and I's passports and money. In the process of cutting the bag in an attempt to steal my stuff, the guy has also cut open my water bottle. Thank goodness, or I probably wouldn't have even noticed it. Then I look behind me and realize the guy is still standing there with the razor in his hand. I was pretty angry. Partially because stealing from me makes me angry. And partially because I paid good dong for that North Face bag- fake or not. I turned around and shoved the guy over backwards and into the sand. While he was heavier than me, he was also shorter. And I was very angry. I also think I had some element of suprise because for the most part people don't expect blond American girls to be shoving them over. He was not happy. He jumped out of the sand and started coming at me again, this time angry and still holding his razor. The thing was, I was still angry too. So I rushed at him and shoved him backwards into the sand again. Seriously. I don't know what got into me. But I don't like robbers. After his second landing in the sand, the crowd kind of realized something was going on and we were both pushed off in separate directions. I never saw him again.

4 a.m. - Laura has been dancing on the same short stool for the last three hours. I have sweat about 17 water bottles out of my body. She says she'd like to take a break so we head back down to the water to watch more people pee and people engage in other illicit activies waterside.

5 a.m. - We walk back through town to catch the boat back.

6:15ish a.m. - Our boat arrives back on Koh Samui. I have drifted to sleep on the life jacket of the random Australian guy next to me. The sun is starting to come up.

6:30 a.m. - Laura and I are tossed into some random pick up truck that takes us around the entire island and finally back to our hotel.

7 a.m. - Laura and I collapse in beach chairs in front of the hotel (we hadn't rented a room yet) as the sun is rising we drift to sleep.

7:20 a.m. - I wake up because the sun has risen and I feel like I'm on fire. I walk across the beach to a shady area and sit, trying not to fall asleep and wishing check in time at 11:30 would hurry up and come.

8 a.m. - I am getting very nervous as I haven't seen Everett in hours. We had agreed to meet back at the hotel as a last resort if we got lost. The last boat left from the island at 7 a.m. so even if he'd caught that, he should have been back.

8:30 a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the road now, waiting for Everett.

9:30 a.m. - Laura is eating a McDonalds cheeseburger and I feel like I'm dying. Everett still isn't there. I'm trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to start looking for him. And how in the world I'm going to explain this to my parents.

10 a.m. - Laura goes back to the hotel to check with the owner to see when our room will be ready. The owner tells her that our friend is in the room where we left our bags. He'd been there since 2 a.m. "You didn't know?" Apparently Mr. "We're Gonna Party ALL Night Long" hadn't even stayed on the island past 1 a.m. I've been making fun of him ever since I heard this news.

10:05 a.m. - I'm so relieved to see Everett that I'm not even mad about the fact that he has disappeared for the last 10 hours. We all three climb into the king sized bed and Everett and I laugh for an hour straight looking at the night's photos. I've never been happier for a bed and air conditioning in my life.

4 p.m. - Everett and Laura make up.

Laura v. Jet Ski

This morning we decided to go jet skiing. It was a beautiful day, the water was calm and it only cost $50 for 40 minutes for three people. So, after strapping on our life jackets and having a little bit of trouble getting the jet ski started, we were off.

Until today I thought Everett was the worst jet ski driver I'd ever ridden with. As he has been my brother for some 24 odd years now, I've had the opportunity to ride with him driving a jet ski a fair amount of time. And 90% of those times I've been pretty certain that he was trying to kill me.

Today was no exception. Once we got on, I sat in the middle and Laura sat behind me. We both hung on for dear life as Everett screamed like a mad man and we flew through the air hitting wave after wave. It was fun though and we were going up and down the coast checking out the various beach areas and hotels.

Then, Everett offered to let one of us drive. I declined as the idea of basically giving two adults piggy back rides while you hang on for dear life sounded kind of painful. I've driven a three person jet ski before and it left my arms and back sore for days. That was on a fairly calm lake. I didn't want to do it in the middle of the ocean.

Laura however jumped at the chance. I told her it was going to be hard- especially considering that Everett and I are collectively about a foot and a half taller than her. I warned her that I wasn't so sure this was a good idea. She said that if it got too hard she would switch with Everett. I shrugged.

The minute and a half that Laura drove the jet ski was one of the more insane of my life. Her basic method for driving was to gun it and go at full speed, but then us pulling her would be too much so she would immediately take all the gas off so that we would then slam into her. However, all of this came to an abrupt stop very quickly.

I'm really not even sure that we lasted a full minute and a half before I heard Everett scream (I couldn't see over him to the front) and we all went flying about 7 feet in the air off the jet ski into the middle of the ocean.

As soon as we landed I don't even think I took the time to make sure everyone was ok before I was sprinting for the jet ski which was floating about 15 feet away. While I will swim all day on the shore, I become extremely paranoid in the middle of the ocean. In my mind that is where the big fish live. In my mind they are also following any floating craft, just waiting for someone to, say, go catapulting off of it at 30 miles an hour.

I was about 3 feet away from the jet ski when Everett suddenly screamed and took off swimming. Laura then screamed "what?!" to which Everett responded "shark!"

This is the stuff of my nightmares.

I was on the jet ski in record time and hurriedly pulled Everett up behind me. Laura seemed to be swimming in slow motion. And she looked very panicky. I was trying to figure out just exactly what I was going to do if a shark attacked Laura. At that point, just as Laura was able to get back on board, the guy who had rented us the jet skis sped over to make sure we were ok. I've never been happier to have three people out of the water in my life.

The sharks existence was never totally confirmed. But Everett swears he saw it just underneath him. And, as the water was crystal clear and Everett generally tells the truth, I believe him. So, I blame Laura a little for trying to kill me. But, we all lived- and all still have all of our limbs - so I'm glad about that.

Hopefully I'll be able to say the same after tonight's party.

Finally!

So, as it turns out, uploading photos is a little bit trickier in Asia than in, say, Australia. However, after trying to upload on like 85 computers between here and Saigon, I was thrilled this evening to find an internet cafe in Koh Samui, Thailand where I could finally upload. (Of course, it wasn't simple. There are three computers in this "internet cafe" and I am on the third one I tried... so third one's the charm and all that.) It's also worth noting that this computer is somehow set to German so every word I type it says I've mispelled. Which I have. If I was typing in German.

Ok, so the pics from Vietnam are there. I'm going to add Thailand soon. And I actually have a few more to add to the "From Sydney" album, but, while this computer may be actually uploading the photos, it's not doing it at what one might call a rapid pace. Or really even an acceptable pace. Luckily, it's raining in Koh Samui today so this isn't cutting into beach time so much as 'watching old Stephen Baldwin movies with Thai subtitles' time.

Enjoy the pics - unfortunately I haven't been able to add any from my nice camera yet so you'll just have to make do with these mediocre random shots taken in a much lower resolution (read: resolution that doesn't actually make all of Thailand's power crash due to me trying to upload them).

And in case you're wondering what we're doing now (since Vietnam was like 4 days ago), I will share. We're currently on an island in southern Thailand at a VERY nice hotel (a little gift from my awesome parents!) and soaking up the life of luxury that includes a private swimming pool, ocean view and lots of cheesy American movies on TV. I have stuck to my plans of eating pad thai every day and have every intention of fulfilling that goal. I have also found that Thailand holds just as much of a problem as far as my weakness for purchasing fake goods as Vietnam. Maybe more. Everett and Laura have given up on me and typically just walk out of shops sighing once they realize I am about to begin bargaining for some fake Burberry, Mulberry or other random berry good.

Tomorrow is the night of the Full Moon Party. This party, which happens once a month on a smaller island called Koh Phangan just off the coast of Koh Samui, usually draws between 7 and 10 thousand people. And apparently its only rival in the world of backpacking debauchery is the insane street in Bangkok I mentioned before. We still don't know how we're going to get there or where we will sleep tomorrow night. But I guess that's half the glory of it. Personally though I'm just hoping desperately that it rains because as far as I can figure in this country the only chance for me not sweating my skin off is rain. I've never loved getting rained on more than I do in Thailand.

Ok, time for dinner. Hopefully more pad thai.

Prostitutes and Tuk Tuks

Bangkok is crazy. I mean, even the name of the city sounds a little crazy. I think that half of what makes Bangkok feel so crazy is its heat. In fact, that might account for more than half.

Now, I am a person who becomes both hot and cold fairly easily. If we're going to be honest, I'd prefer 75 sunny and breezy all of the time because really I can get a little worked up over the weather. I'd say it's the most high maintenance part about me. Bangkok makes every other time I've complained of heat look like a cool day. This city is so steamy, still and excrutiatingly hot that it's actually hard to focus on much else. So, at the end of the day everything kind of feels like a painful dream that involved sweat dripping in your eyes and you desperately seeking an air conditioned 7 Eleven. That makes Bangkok seem crazy.

But that's not it completely. There is an area - and actually even just one road- in this city that pretty much epitomizes what I imagined for backpacker culture in southeast asia. There, you can purchase tatoos, women, drugs and drink. All at relatively cheap prices apparently. And it is PACKED with westerners - most of them looking like they've been there a few weeks to long and all of them sweating. For those who want to fit in, but aren't keen on drugs and odd STDs, there is plenty of henna, hair braiding and hippie looking apparel for sale.

The first time we went to the street I actually really liked it. I don't know why. It was about a million degrees and it was that kind of heat that makes breathing feel a little painful. But it was cool. It was what I had imagined. And it was so amazing people watching.

But then we went back last night and frankly, prostitution makes me a little depressed. We had actually just been at a night market in the red light district before that and there, while it was bothersome, it still seemed illicit. In the neon lights and crowds of the backpacker district, watching normal looking American guys my age walk around touting their young prostitutes, I got a little down about it.

On a happier note though, Bangkok has these awesome little contraptions they call tuk tuks. They're like a glorified moped with a spot that can fit three small people in the back. The three of us fit, but not well. We rode in four of them yesterday and each driver seemed a little crazier than the last - this included drivers offering us "ping pong show" (this is a sex show. or sex. The derivation of this name is more than a little disturbing.), taking us to random jewelry shops we didn't ask for in hopes we'd buy stuff, and then finally, at the end of the night, driving around curves at about 80 miles an hour while laughing this crazy laugh and shaking his head like a maniac. I like the tuk tuks. I may be alone in our group in this sentiment.

Bangkok

We've arrived in Bangkok! And, even though I've barely stepped out of our hotel thus far, I love it. Mostly that's because we're staying at a seriously nice Sheraton on the river. I have a feeling once I'm hit with the wave of steamy heat I can see coming off this city of 7.5 million people I may be a little overwhelmed. However, I am really excited to be here.

The hour and a half plane ride here may as well have been a sixty year plane ride into the future as far as the difference between Hanoi and Bangkok. Decades of war, years of embargo and their current communist regime have really done a number on Vietnam. I'd almost forgotten that most cities don't have cows on the highways, motorbikes cramming every inch of street space and consider air conditioning an unheard of luxury. While Vietnam has its charm, so do the Starbucks on every corner here in Bangkok.

Today we're headed out to explore since we didn't get to our hotel until around 11 last night. We all stayed up until 1:30 watching American Idol and The O.C. This was probably pretty close to the latest I've stayed up the entire trip. Everett and Laura keep referring to me as Grandma and some hints have been dropped that I may be narcoleptic. I don't know what my problem is, but I can't seem to stay awake to save my life these days. If I'm in any kind of sitting/laying position for long, chances are I will follow asleep (and snore, apparently) almost immediately. It's kind of embarassing. And it's going to create a real problem in a few days when we go to the Full Moon party in south Thailand where I'm supposed to stay up all night because we're not even booking a hotel. I suspect someone is going to be pretty grumpy come sunrise.

Ok, we're off to see what the 14th most populous city in the world has to offer to a couple of American tourists.

Vietnam

Four years ago I traveled to Vietnam for the first time. At that time I stayed here for a little over two weeks. This time I've stayed here a week. It's kind of strange for me to realize that I've spent three weeks of my life in this country.

Mostly it's strange because I can still only speak about half a word of Vietnamese. It's not from lack of trying to understand, but Asian languages are, well, so foreign to me. The accents, the spellings, all of it. When Vietnamese people start speaking I just stand there looking very confused. Most of the time I assume they're saying "Look at that freakishly large American girl yelling at that tall guy." Because, that's what I'd be saying if I were them.

This trip has been very different from my last one in several ways. First and foremost because this trip didn't involve me spending an afternoon in a hospital bed thinking I was going to die. However, it's also been interesting to tackle Vietnam minus a tour guide. Not that Everett hasn't been a great guide with the help of his Lonely Planet book. It's just that I think he adds some stuff that might not actually be in the book. Like when we went to visit the Imperial Palace and he tried to tell me that Ho Chi Minh had been reincarnated into a peacock they had in a cage there. Or when he explained to me that Ho Chi Minh liked Pepsi so that was why they sold it there.

I do feel like I've gotten the hang of a few things in Vietnam though. Like, I can cross the street now without almost dying from a heart attack in fear that someone is going to run over my leg. And I've come to respect that "the Vietnamese will eat anything that sustains life" (-Lonely Planet). I appreciate people who eat random food. However, I will not eat a dog. This is something Everett and I differ on greatly. He wants to eat a dog. I feel like I couldn't look Rosie in the eye ever again if I did that. Plus, that sounds gross.

I also appreciate the ability to replicate just about anything here in Vietnam. Books, designer jeans, CDs, DVDs, handbags, belts, wallets... nothing is safe from duplication in this country. I am now the proud owner of two fake North Face bags and a Lacoste shirt. And I have big plans to purchase full sets of both LOST and Sex and the City before I'm out of Asia. Of course, occasionally things are lost in translation. Like the Armany shirt I saw last night and the Dolce and Gabanno bag a few days ago. It's tricky I suppose.

I like the people in Vietnam. That has remained the same for me since my last trip. With the exception of a few including the cab driver mentioned in a previous entry and a couple of crazy shop keepers, people in Vietnam always seem very friendly. At least they smile alot. Because, let's be honest, I have no idea what they're saying. But, those who do speak English are always very kind and we've made random connections along the way in this trip with people who have made us laugh and who have taught us a little bit about their culture beyond the cost of a fake handbag. I think those were the kind of people who made me want to come back here again.

So, this particular entry has been a lot of rambling, but we're finishing up in Hanoi today and are headed to Bangkok tonight. I have plans to eat Pad Thai for 8 days straight while we're there. We'll see if I can make it happen.

My First Haiku

Around the time we were leaving Australia Laura began to notice odd red bumps that looked like bug bites on her body. Then she and I shared a bed. Now, I have bites all over me. And she has them all over her. This morning, when Ev arrived at the hotel, I got out of the double bed Laura and I were sharing so he could get in. Now he has the bumps. We think Laura is spreading bed bugs.

And so, in honor of the first time I've officially been infested with bed bugs, I'm writing a haiku. This one is for you Jenn. And for you, bed bugs.

Laura gave me bugs
Red bumps all over my bod
Quit biting my face

Hanoi Day One

I have two pieces of good news. 1) At 7:45 this morning Everett crawled into the double bed Laura and I shared last night and is currently resting peacefully upstairs after his 18 hour train ride. 2) I can see my blog again. Apparently computers in Hanoi allow this.

Yesterday was easily the weirdest day of this entire trip thus far. After narrowly avoiding the train ride and catching our flight to Hanoi, Laura and I went in search of a taxi to take us to the hotel in the Old Quarter that Everett had told us to go to as he pushed his copy of Lonely Planet into my bag as we jumped off the train.

Luckily I had made use of my flight time to do a little reading in Lonely Planet because as soon as we got in the cab, he began to "do the hustle" as Lonley Planet referred to it. I told him where we wanted to go and after barely looking at it, he continued driving. Then, five minutes later he asked where we were from. I said America. Two minutes after that he makes a call and hands Laura the phone, saying that it is our hotel. A guy on the other end says that the hotel is full, but he would like to send us to his "second hotel." This was pretty much word for word what Lonely Planet decribed as "hustling." Apparently, it happens all the time where cab drivers try to get tourists to go to other hotels and the other hotels pay them some kind of commission. The other hotels also rip off tourists in various ways including extra charges, bad rooms, etc. So, after Laura handed me the phone, I told the guy we didn't want to go to his "second hotel," hung up and handed the phone back to our cab driver, who I was pretty irritated with by this point.

He continued driving, smoking a cigarette and throwing trash out of his window as we made our way to the Old Quarter. Luckily, with the book, I had maps so I could see exactly where we were. As soon as we got to this area of town, he pulled up to another hotel (not the one I'd told him to go to) and put on his blinkers, saying "this is your hotel." I said, "no, it's not." He persisted. Then a woman came out and told me to come to her hotel. I said no. Then she asked what hotel we were staying in. I told her. She tried to tell me it was small hotel and if we didn't have reservations, we wouldn't be able to get a room, but she had a nice room for me. I told her I didn't care, that I was going to the other hotel. By this point, I was angry and getting pretty tired of our cab driver's antics. The woman gave up and stepped back from the car. I slammed the door shut and we finally started to go the right direction to our hotel. Once we got here, our driver, who by this point was about one fake hotel away from having me punch him in the face, tried to make us pay more money than originally agreed. Laura was paying and I told her not to give him any more. She handed him the agreed upon amount, he abruptly turned around, got in the car and sped off. I only regret that the language barrier made it so that I could not fully explain to him how little I thought of him.

The people at this hotel were friendly, helpful and we were quickly checked into a nice room. One reason Everett had picked the hotel, and something that was noted in Lonely Planet was that the hotel offered a jacuzzi, sauna and spa. Before we headed out to wander around and grab some dinner, Laura went to check on those facilities. She came back very excited that they offered manicures, pedicures and massages until late in the evening. Midnight, in fact. I think probably I should have thought something was suspicious about a place offering massages until midnight. I think I probably should have been more suspicious when I saw the neon flashing sign for "massage" outside of our hotel, but it had been a long day. I just figured the "spa" stayed open late.

So, after a late dinner, Laura and I returned and went to the second floor of the hotel, ready for some cheap relaxation. Oh, what naive little tourists we were.

Walking in, there were three men sitting around in the main room. Laura asked to have a manicure, pedicure and foot massage. I wanted manicure, pedicure and body massage. After some serious language struggles, a lot of yelling and phone calls, we were eventually ushered into a random room with several large, black leather chairs and a few massage tables. The decorations included, but were not limited to, many fake flowers on the walls and a sparkly large mouse sticker on the door. They indicated Laura should get in a chair and I should get on the table.

We did and, as I lay down on the massage table, less than two feet from Laura's chair, we started to wonder what exactly was going on. I had to go to the bathroom and when I was directed there, I quickly realized that our plans for jacuzzi and sauna were definitely not going to happen. The jacuzzi actually looked much more like a giant bowl full of mildew than anything else and the entire bathroom area looked kind of like how I would imagine bathrooms looking in prison, complete with florescent lighting, stains on the walls and horrible steamy odors.

I returned and filled Laura in. Then I climbed back on my massage table, fully clothed. A few moments later about seven women dressed in very tight, tiny silk white shirts and the shortest lavender skirts I've ever seen, came into the room. One insisted that I strip down. Luckily, in preparation for our jacuzzi experience that was not to be, Laura and I were both wearing bathing suits. I kept on my bathing suit and hopped on the table where they'd tossed one of the red cushions from the back chairs for me to put my head on.

Then, the actual treatment experience began for both of us. As a woman who I'm pretty sure has never given a legitimate massage in her life slapped some baby oil on my back and began vigorously rubbing, another woman brought Laura a bucket of brown water to put her feet in. Laura screamed laughing at the water. The women all began laughing. Laura said she wasn't putting her feet in that. I told her just to do it. She did.

My "massage" continued as Laura and I laughed hysterically as random women came in and out of the room, I had a rubdown on my bum the likes of which I've never experienced and Laura was eventually allowed to take her feet out of the dirty water. At one point my "masseuse" told me to turn over. When I insisted on rebuckling the top to my bathing suit before doing that she practically collasped in laughter, yelling for the other girls, and then grabbed my bathing suit top, looking in. Then she began comparing breasts in Vietnam versus those in America- using lots of sign language. After that she massaged my stomach for a good 10 minutes. Something I've definitely never had done before. Laura was crying she was laughing so hard. Meanwhile, for her manicure and pedicure they had basically pulled out what looked an awful lot like a Caboodle and offered to let Laura pick between three nail polish colors that they had: yellow, green and light pink. Then they unwrapped the nail clippers from their original, unopened packaging. I'm pretty sure we might have been their first manicure and pedicure customers ever.

After my massage was over, I was quickly trying to get dressed as my masseuse threw a conical rice hat on my head, pulled my skirt away from me, grabbed her cell phone and started taking pictures. Laura was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, her "foot massage" was going all the way up her leg way past any foot region.

Finally, I had my clothes on and the rice hat off. Laura's foot massager stood up and as Laura, who had been trying to converse throughout the entire experience, asked her if she was married, she answered that she was divorced. Then Laura asked if she had a boyfriend. She told Laura she liked girls. I think Laura felt pretty awkward about the high reaching foot massage at that point.

Of course, as the woman was laughing about liking girls and Laura's reaction, she sat on the end of my massage table that I was already off. The table tipped, flew into the air and she went crashing into a cabinet full of nail stuff that went everywhere. Suddenly everyone in the room was screaming laughing and pointing at her- including Laura and I. It was mass chaos. And it was hilarious.

Then something happened.

Suddenly the room cleared, the lights went down and it got very quiet. The only women left were two working on my pedicure. Outside, of the room we could hear a man yelling at a woman. Then we heard a slap, followed by a yelp. A few moments later the women slowly trickled back into the room. One was red and had clearly been crying. It was very uncomfortable. I've never wanted to leave a place so badly. I noticed that one of the women had horrible bruises all over her arms and back. Most of them were very young.

Eventually, what can only be described as a manicure and pedicure my dachshund could have done a better job with, was finished. There was no waiting for things to dry. It was 11 p.m. by this point and we were very ready to go. We said our good byes and quickly headed to our room upstairs, just happy that yesterday was finally over.

Train v. Plane

I still can't see my blog. But I'll keep posting in hopes that the rest of the world can and that it's just Da Nang, Vietnam that is missing out on my random ramblings about my travels.

Right now I'm writing this entry from a (free!) internet connection in the Da Nang airport's Business Class lounge. That's right. This trip just got a little bit more high class. At least for Laura and me. Unfortunately, last I saw Everett he was sitting in the middle of a train car brimming with Vietnamese people, smelling of dead fish and headed for Hanoi.

Let me explain.

As I've said, I gave Everett Vietnam. And I've tried very hard to let it be his. We've walked through intense heat to view random pagodas, we've eaten at restuarants I probably would have passed by and we've stayed at hotels that wouldn't have been at the top of my list. But I've had a great time and Everett has been a natural leader.

Unfortunately, things changed a little today. Last night Everett purchased us three tickets for $30 a piece to take an 18 hour train ride to Hanoi from Da Nang. The train left at 1 p.m. today and would arrive at 6 a.m. tomorrow. At the time, I briefly mentioned that maybe we should look at flights. Everett said that flights were very expensive. I beleieved him.

It wasn't until this morning though that I really began to consider what an 18 hour train ride was going to be like. I also started to consider that the distance between the two cities shouldn't merit that much time on a train. I asked Everett how long a flight took. He told me "over three hours." I said that didn't seem right. He said "have you ever looked at a map?" I said "yes."

After my shower this morning, I decided to do some checking online regarding flights to Hanoi. I had to do this in secret due to the fact that Vietnam is Everett's country and any planning outside "the plan" does not go over well. What I discovered was a bit of a surprise. Tickets to Hanoi, according to expedia cost $140 and the flight was one hour.

I hesitantly went to Everett, saying that it wasn't that I wanted to deviate from the plan, but I was growing increasingly suspicious of this train ride. He persisted in saying we should take the train. I said it was his country and agreed.

As our taxi pulled into the train station I glared at Everett and he began laughing. It was PACKED with people. All of them were Vietnamese and all of them were staring at us like we'd lost our minds. Or at least our way.

Walking in to the small room, there were stalls where you could buy food - obviously there would be no food on the train. Laura and I hurriedly purchased such healthy snacks as Pringles, Ritz Crackers and Oreos as that was all that was available other than raw eggs, random unfamiliar meats and some nut concoctions that I had never seen anything quite like.

I glared at Everett again. He laughed again.

When the train arrived, I seriously felt like I was in a movie. It's impossible to describe the entire experience. I have two photos of the outside of the train that I will post eventually, but they won't do it.

It was old. Obviously. The windows were almost impossible to see through due to smeared dirt and grime. Random people were yelling, trying to sell everything from bracelets to small pigs as you boarded the train. The people on the train looked like they'd moved in. There were colorful, dirty dish towels hanging everywhere and trash scattered along the floor and among the seats. We had paid extra for "soft seats" (something that in retrospect should have said a lot about the conditions we were in for) and as we boarded the hot train, which smelled like the inside of a trashcan in a women's bathroom in a hot public place, I realized that my "soft seat" would be facing backwards for the entire 18 hours. That is a recipe for disaster for someone with my unfortunate motion sickness tendencies. I also realized that there wasn't an empty seat on the train and that I would be sitting two seats up from a toothless man who had some serious staring issues. I may have started to use some bad language at this point. Everett kept laughing.

We sat down, I pulled out my dramamine, thinking that I would pay $100 for a nose clamp if anyone was selling those, and I began to beg Everett to take the plane. At one point, I offered to buy the plane tickets for all three of us. He told me that if I wanted to take the plane, he could split from Laura and me. I told him I didn't want to split up in a third world communist country. He told me then I had to stay on the train. He said it would be "an experience he'd remember forever." I agreed, because vomiting all over a train car full of people who don't speak English would probably remain in my memory for some time.

I sat for a moment longer and asked Laura what she wanted to do. She turned to Everett and begged him to let us get off the train. He said no. I was definitely angry at this point, but I had resigned myself to staying on the train.

Then, a woman carrying a bag of dead fish walked by me and had to pause at my seat to let another woman, selling small, jade trinkets walk by her. The fish did it. I stood up, announcing that I was getting off the train. Laura begged Everett one last time. I grabbed my bags, strapped on my pack and walked off while a lot of train officials looked very perplexed. Laura followed me.

We walked past about 50 people trying to ask us "why?" but as I don't speak Vietnamese, it was going to be pretty difficult to explain my reasoning in any sort of unoffensive way.

Walking out of the train station, we caught a taxi for 4 dollars to the airport where at the Vietnam Airlines counter they told us there were only two seats left on the next flight to Hanoi. The seats were $90 each and they were Business Class.

So now, 45 minutes after our narrow escape, we're happily enjoying complimentary Diet Pepsi in the Business Class lounge. Unfortunately, I'm a little worried about Everett. However, we'll be meeting him tomorrow in Hanoi and I'm sure he'll have plenty of good stories from his "experience he'll remember forever." I'm just glad I don't have to remember it forever.

Hoi An

So I can no longer see my blog. I don't really understand how this works, but let's be honest, there are a lot of things about computers I don't understand. In fact, pretty much everything. However, it is a real mystery to me how the internet in the town of Hoi An, in the middle of Vietnam, makes it so that I can post new blog entries, see that people have commented on old ones (but not see the comments) and see that my blog exists. But not see my blog. That's a fun little game. I've tried on about 8 different computers here and decided that probably my blog has just been blocked from all computers in communist Vietnam. I can only assume this is due to the intense political and social commentary I'm throwing around on here.

Anyway, we're in Hoi An. I visited here on my first trip to Vietnam and decided that it was probably one of my favorite places in the world, so I was very happy to return.

It's a small town in the northern part of southern Vietnam with a lot of influence from other Asian cultures including Japan and China. Despite Vietnam's recent history of almost constant war in the last century, Hoi An has been greatly spared. And it is beautiful. It's on the beach, but honestly I haven't even seen the beach. We've spent most of our time in the old town area and once I go to a place where the internet doesn't hate me, I'll post photos that will make it obvious why we've all been so enchanted by this town we decided to stay an extra night.

However, I have to be honest. Our enchantment isn't totally due to the historical significance, the beautiful streets or the friendly people. Hoi An is fairly touristy and it's known for it's shopping. And wow, does it have some shopping.

Really though, I'm not sure if you can describe what I've done the last few days as shopping or just pure retail gluttony. Everett compared me to a coke addict tonight because of my total inability to walk by any shop with brightly colored scarves, purses or clothes without stopping in for two, three, four or so hours and walking out having ordered multiple tailor made dresses.

I can't explain it really. It's like, I sit down, they give me ice water, they show me a dress, show me some fabric and suddenly I don't just want one. And I can't stop myself. Before I know it there are Vietnamese women who come up to my waist measuring me and oohing and ahhing over the giant in their shop.

But how can you resist clothes that they tailor make to fit you perfectly and do it in just a couple of hours? And it's cheap? I definitely can't resist. So I've given up trying. Today I bought a long black evening gown. I don't even know why.

Everett and Laura have done their fair share of shopping as well. In fact, Everett has dropped quite a few more dong than me because he bought a lot of suits. Going into these stores with Everett is one of the funnier things I've ever seen. He is so much taller than the women here that he doesn't even look real. And they get exceedingly excited when they see him because they realize that he is going to take up a lot of fabric. And fabric equals dong.

A little while ago the three of us all rode our bicycles (something that is, by the way, one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life in this country of no traffic laws and millions of motor bikes) over to a shop to pick up some dresses Laura and I ordered. When we arrived the women assumed Everett was with me (I guess because we're both enormous to them) and started whispering loudly to me to get my boyfriend to buy something. The fact that every one here seems to think we're together disgusts Everett to no end so he loudly began announcing that I was his sister- something he's pretty much explained to everyone in Vietnam. I've never had to hear "we share the same parents and the same genes" so much in my life.

Ok, I'm off to pick up some more clothes. And then to buy a fake North Face bag to put them in. I have a problem.

Saigon

We've made it to Vietnam. As this is my second time traveling to this country, I like to keep saying that I'm back in 'nam. Everett likes to say this is my second tour. Whatever the case, it's good to be back.

Before we went on this seven week trip, I was getting some complaints from Everett regarding the fact that I had "taken over" the trip. Apparently, me scheduling every second of the trip bothered him a little. So, one day, I gave him Vietnam. That's right. I gave him a country. Pretty generous if I do say so myself.

So, you can only imagine Everett's frustration when a day was cut from our time here due to Malaysian Airlines - this is his only country, after all. However, upon arrival, he launched right in. Unfortunately, when I had given Everett Vietnam I had forgotten that Everett has the worst sense of direction of anyone I've ever known. Ever.

So, about 30 seconds after we set out from our hotel with a destination in mind, we were lost. About 30 minutes after that we were walking next to what can only be described as looking like a major crater in the middle of the city on a dirt road dodging motorbikes left and right. At that point Everett swore that the place we were trying to go was on the opposite side of the crater. Laura and I insisted we get a taxi. Interestingly enough, the taxi headed the absolute opposite direction of the crater... for about two miles. Laura kept whispering that she wanted me to take back Vietnam. It's like we're starting the civil war again just within our group.

The afternoon was amazing though. We found a spa recommended by Lonely Planet that was a secluded old mansion at the end of wooded road in the middle of the city. Easily one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. And best of all, we paid about 30 dollars total for manicures, pedicures and 90 minute massages. I would do that every day for the next 4 weeks and never get tired of it. Everett says we can't though. He also kept muttering that this was not on his plan. And he refused to join in the fun with the manis and pedis.

Probably the most entertaining part of Saigon though really is the traffic. The city is known for it's motorbikes. And it is CRAZY. I mean, you can't really understand it until you've seen it. Basically, it's just like constant large crowds of people, on anything with wheels (including street carts, bikes, motorbikes, vespas, cars, taxis, buses, trucks... all of it) and they're all going at random speeds with no apparent laws. There's barely even a particular direction they're supposed to be following.

Once you're in a taxi, you feel relatively safe. However, walking presents a challenge. Everett likes to compare it to video games. Because that's what it feels like. You just start going across streets and pray that no one is going to take your foot off. And trust me, they get close. Like literally brushing up against you. It's terrifying. However, I'm winning the game. Ev says I'm up 120 points because I crossed like five minutes before he and Laura one time with two buses blocking all views. It was death defying. I may have cheered myself on from the other side. Laura is definitely losing. On our way home from dinner she got stuck in the middle of the street long enough for me to pull out my camera and take a picture. Everett pointed out to her that in this particular game, losing probably means she's going to need a plastic hip before she goes home.

Unfortunately, tonight is our last night in Saigon because of the flight problems. Tomorrow we head north.

I'm hoping this means I'm the winner of the game for the trip.

The KL

I'm in Kuala Lumpur. In fact, I spent the night here. That was kind of an unexpected version of this trip, but Malaysian Airlines, which is quickly earning the title in my mind of 'biggest struggle of an airline I've dealt with in years,' has taken about 57 hours to complete our supposed 10 hour trip to Saigon. This has resulted in us being in Kuala Lumpur. Which has resulted in me calling it The KL. Which has resulted in Everett threatening to punch me.

So, yesterday we waited for three hours in line at the Melbourne airport. That is no exageration. In fact, by the time we'd stepped away from the counter, it'd been three and a half. Finally, after our flight had been "delayed" for 19 hours (some people call that cancelled and rescheduled, but Malaysian Airlines is really positive) we boarded flight 128.

As we walked onto the plane and to our seats in row 36, I noticed something. There were three people I'd seen in line that I didn't want to sit near and they were no where in sight. Until we got to row 36.

In our seats 36 d, e and f, Everett, Laura and I were literally sitting in the middle of the axis of insanity. Walking up to our seats we all busted out laughing because what else can you do when you know that you're about to sit for 8 hours right next to the most obnoxious people, possibly on the planet, but definitely on the plane?

To our left was a little girl who ran around like a crazy person, holding a stuffed bunny in her hand and then punching people in the face with it for most of the flight. At one point, I looked over and saw her mother sobbing crying. I could only assume this was because she bore this child. (I later discovered they were on their way to a funeral and felt kind of bad. But only kind of because that discovery came about 30 seconds after her kid punched me in the stomach.) The girl actually threw the bunny across the plane at one point. I've really never seen anything like it. In the states, I'm pretty sure the plane would have stopped and forced them to get off. I wanted to do that.

To our right was a woman who was best described by Laura as looking exactly like the manicurist in the movie Legally Blonde. She was blond, busty and extremely loud. She kept doing this exagerated yawning thing to the extent that at one point little, sweet Laura sat up in her seat, pulled her hot pink eye cover off, dropped an expletive and turned to me saying that she was going to kill her, "like literally kill her." It's also worth noting that the woman was wearing camo from head to toe, had insanely long french tipped nails and a husband the size of my pinkie finger.

In front of me was the best though. Sitting in front of us was a kid who the entire Melbourne Airport had wanted to kill. He'd been screaming for hours. And it didn't stop. My favorite part was when his mother, who was sitting in the seat in front of me picked him up, shook him and then lifted him over his shoulder so that his face was about 6 inches from mine as he screamed at the top of his lungs. I screamed back. I'm pretty sure I looked like the crazy person at that point.

But alas, we're here. We're alive. Miraculously, none of us killed anyone on the plane. And now we're about to catch a flight to Saigon. It's a short one. Hopefully we'll survive.

Life of Luxury

Tonight is probably the best night of my life.

Today, after several days in Melbourne, we took a cab to the airport (after a prolonged dispute with Everett involving his desire that we walk about 16 miles to catch a bus to the airport to save four dollars. I won. So we took a cab.) Our flight to Vietnam via Malaysia on Malaysian Airlines was supposed to leave at 12:15 a.m. When we arrived, there was a very long line and letters were being handed out explaining that something had gone wrong with electrical system on the plane and therefore there would be no flight to Malaysia tonight. At first, we were all slightly distressed. Then we realized something. Malaysian Airlines was putting us up in a hotel.

That's right, a hotel. Not a hostel. Not a dorm room. Not a communal shower with a floor that looks like a frat house. A hotel. One of those brilliant places with private bathrooms, clean sheets you don't have to strip in the morning and rooms with no sleep-talking Germans. While Everett seemed kind of bummed about not getting to Vietnam, I was pretty much beaming in the airport.

When they told us they'd give us vouchers for cab fare to and from the airport to catch the next flight tomorrow, I almost jumped up and down in excitement. When they asked if we needed to make any international calls so that they could add that to our hotel room, I wondered aloud if it was possible to get my laundry done at the hotel too.

The entire ride here (we took a car service in some luxury car because the voucher would cover that!) I couldn't stop smiling. When the concierge told us we got breakfast in the morning and a room service snack tonight for free- and that fish and chips was on the snack menu- I nearly started crying. I hugged Laura for a good minute and half just out of sheer joy.

They gave us two rooms and when Laura and I got to our room, we literally jumped around for a good 10 minutes. Laura started blow drying her totally dry hair. Just because she could. She looked at the stereo and asked what it was. It's like we've been living pre industrial revolution. We just ordered room service. I got the cheese plate. I might be the happiest person alive right now.

Finally, as if the night could get any better, I am currently sitting in the "business center" of the hotel. When I asked if there was internet, the guy gave me a key to this room which is basically a private hotel room with a huge desk, computer and printer. Private. And free. Oh, the luxury.

It's worth noting that moments before our flight was cancelled, as we were walking through the airport, two British women walked past us, looked at me and said "she doesn't look like a backpacker." And I was pretty much crushed. I mean, for goodness sakes, I essentially bought out the Atlanta REI store in preparation for this trip, I now own a pair of khaki shorts for the first time in like 10 years, I was wearing my new bohemianish scarf, I've got like 30 pounds on my back and my hair looks like it hasn't seen a blow dryer in months, what more does it take to look like a backpacker? I was devastated.

However, in light of these recent developments and my obvious excitement over riding in a car with leather seats and using a computer in a room without people shouting in other languages around me, I think maybe those British women were on to something. Maybe I'm not meant to be a backpacker. At least not for tonight.

I guess I'll just go eat my cheese plate, watch my flat screen, take a bath and think about it.

New Photos

Sadly, we've left Sydney. However, we're in Melbourne now which is great. And tomorrow we have high hopes of viewing some more Australian wildlife, which is exciting.

To see some pics from our Australian exploits, I've uploaded them all now in the new folder "From Sydney On."

Prepare yourself for a lot of scenery shots. I think I'm a little trigger happy when it comes to cameras.

And, because I know it was disturbing you, dear reader, as much as me - you'll be happy to know I am now the proud owner of a functional Canon Elf again! Such a happy day.

My Thoughts Exactly

I just saw this quote on the wall at the airport in Melbourne, Australia. It was like someone had read my mind.

Tokyo, Australia

When we arrived in Sydney, we were exhausted, I had been coughing for 24 hours straight and we'd just spent the "night" (about 3 and a half hours) in the hostel room with the creepy German. That mindset might explain why we ended up moving into a place called Tokyo Village hostel when we didn't immediately find vacancy anywhere else. Our exhaustion from covering the entire country of New Zealand in 8 days might explain why we somehow ended up staying in Tokyo Village for 5 nights. But I'm not sure, because I don't know that there is really any explanation for why we stayed. This morning though, when one of the owners knocked on our door around 10 a.m. to see if we were staying another night, we all kind of looked around at each other, couldn't see any reason why we should stay another night, so we packed our bags and left. Probably the best decision we've made since our arrival in Sydney.

Tokyo Village is really impossible to explain. I actually told Laura last night that I wanted to go around with a hidden camera and catch images of it so that people could kind of understand. But I'm not sure even that would do it.

Basically, it is a commune. It's run by Asians and while when we told people where we were staying, they assumed we were the only people there who weren't Asian, that is actually incorrect. There were a lot of very odd people there, nationalities totally unknown.

All over the hostel (including the sign outside it) were pictures of a little dog, supposedly named Totoro. We never saw him. I don't believe he existed. They kept promising he'd show up the next day. I'm pretty suspicious.

Our room smelled like fertilizer. I mean, seriously, like just a big bag of grass fertilizer. Until the third day when Everett bought Coco Butter lotion and smeared it all over himself making the room smell very bad. I will not go into detail on the scents gained from mixing fertilizer and coco butter. Our room was also about 16 inches from a 6 lane road that had 18-wheeler trucks and massive buses going down it all hours of the night. And we were on an intersection with a walk sign that beeped like a video game everytime the light switched. Of course, we couldn't close the window due to the stench.

Every night around 5 or 6, tons of random people would congregate in the "courtyard" (a small brick space surrounded by barbed wire) behind the hostel. There was like an endless supply of rice in the kitchen and we were told we could help ourselves. So everyone sat out back, eating rice and listening to '70s music and smoking alot in really dim light. All wearing big baggy pants, long hair and bright colors. And staring at us as we walked by, looking really out of place. Seriously, a commune.

The best part though was the shower situation. The first day we got there, they indicated that there was an all girls shower adjacent to the courtyard, but up in the dorms where we were, there were just toilets and one shower. So, Laura went down to check out the showers and returned, telling me that the girls one looked good. When I went down carrying my shower stuff along, we walked in together and I immediately noted that the shower stalls were all see through. Laura "claims" she didn't notice this. So, for the last five days, Laura and I have showered with our towels thrown over the stall between us. Until last night when our towels were in the wash and we showered with nothing there. It's worth noting that until about a month ago Laura and I were just a few cubicles apart at work. Things, like modesty, change quickly when you're staying at Tokyo Village though.

Tokyo Village was also about 18 miles outside of town. At least, that's how it felt every time we tried to go somewhere. And one night I made the mistake of walking home on my own and thought that probably my chances of getting raped and pillaged on my way, or at the very least mugged, were about 90%.

So, although we'd resigned ourselves to staying there for the duration of our time in Sydney, when they knocked on our door this morning, there just didn't seem to be a point anymore. So, we walked down the block, caught a train to Bondi Beach (our favorite of the Sydney beaches) and now we're happily settled in a room with a view of the ocean that smells pleasantly like sunscreen.

I couldn't be happier.

Glen

Today I saw my first kangaroo in the wild. And she had a baby 'roo (called a "Joey") tucked in her pouch with his legs hanging out. How cool is that? The real beauty of the day though didn't lay in the kangaroo, or all of the fabulous outback scenery we saw, but rather in Glen, our tour guide, and possibly one of the more entertaining people I've ever met.

Glen is Australian and I'm pretty sure if there was ever a runner up for the Crocodile Hunter, he's the guy. He arrived to pick us up, phone attached to ear, full khaki gear and directed us just to jump in a van he kind of randomly gestured towards around the corner. This kind of laid back behavior is fairly typical in Australia from what I've seen.

As soon as Glen climbed into the van he began what I can only describe as the longest monologue from one human being I've ever heard. He began talking with no real direction and he never stopped. He would pause briefly in the middle of telling us the derivation of a word, or about a show he'd seen on Vikings and I'd think he was finished. But no, he would immediately launch back in, just as enthusiastically as before on a completely different subject.

At one point he mentioned reading the Guinness Book of World Records, which explained a lot because Glen was big on throwing out record holding details. His brain's capacity for numbers and plant life was beyond anything I've ever encountered. During the tour we drove to the Olympic park where the 2000 Olympics occured. Glen, for no apparent reason, suddenly threw on the brakes as we drove into the park, stopping across the street from a random tree that looked like any other.

He jumped out of the drivers seat, apparently thrilled to have seen something he could show us. He then proceeded to grab blossoms off the tree, return to the van and give us the most detailed anatomy lesson of a tree that I've ever had. Including actual biology classes.

He did get off track occasionally though. Like, when he suddenly stopped the entire group, mid hike and said "I've been doing this for years and I've NEVER seen that" in a voice that made me certain we were about to encounter a man eating crocodile. He kept dragging out his surprise to the extent that I thought for sure, whatever we were going to see, was insanely groundbreaking. It turned out Glen had just spotted a woman bringing a stroller down the mountain. Which, while impressive, brought him down a few notches in the competition for Crocodile Hunter.

Glen also liked to entertain himself throughout the day. His cell phone rang about every 15 minutes with the theme music from the Lone Ranger. And Glen would laugh every time. Later in the day, I was following close behind him on a hike when he suddenly sped off through a small cave and around the corner. By the time I came out of the cave, he'd disappeared. I paused, looking around, as everyone else caught up, asking where he was. Then, he suddenly appeared back at the back of the group again, laughing and slapping me on the shoulder as he went by, noting how funny his little trick was. The best part was that like 10 minutes later, he turned to me and was like "That'd be really funny though if I just disappeared right?"

I do feel though that Glen taught me more than I've ever been taught in a day. My mind is bursting with a wealth of knowledge about Sydney, male and female pine trees, and random flowers. I almost wish I could just bring him along on the rest of our trip.