The Taj Mahal

How do you describe a shot of tequila? It burns as it first enters your system. Then, you feel the warmth coming from within. You beg for more. It’s funny how the same words can be used to describe India. At first we were overwhelmed by a city of more than 15 million. At first we were disheartened by all of the people pushing their products – often lying to make a sale. At first, the crowds of men huddled outside a restaurant like a pack of starving dogs waiting for scraps was appalling. Then, suddenly the warmth comes through. We see past the bad and into the good. The people are warm and friendly, the culture is well preserved, and the chaos has become quite comfortable after only a few days.

After wandering for a day through Delhi, the most overwhelming city in the world, we headed south by train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. This is possibly the most photogenic structure ever erected by man. Its perfect symmetry and raised foundation give it a surreal appearance, not to mention the white marble that shines as bright as the day it was completed. We spent four hours looking at the Taj from every possible angle.
We are now in the small town of Khajuraho. We spent the morning strolling through the ancient Jain temples here that feature thousands of Kama Sutra carvings. It’s hot , it’s crazy, it’s India.

We've Been Published part 2

In today's Tucson daily newspaper, the Arizona Daily Star, we had another article published! click on this link to read it. http://www.azstarnet.com/accent/240463

Kaup Chai Laos

After Luang Probang we spent a few nights in the backpacker city of Vang Vieng. Imagine a city set in the midst of beautiful limestone karsts and rivers. Fishermen cast their nets from their long river boats. Locals cross bamboo bridges to their island homes. Dozens of restaurants blast every season of “Friends” from multiple TVs all hours of the day. Every hangout is packed with tourists who waste their day sipping “happy” shakes and watching Joey and Rachel and the rest of their Friends get out of some crazy situations. It was not exactly our idea of paradise. We then bussed it to Vientiane, the Laos capital. Here we rented a 1967 Vespa to cruise the town. It was a fitting end to this peaceful country.
It is said that Laos is the most bombed country in the world. Between 1971 and 1973, it became helplessly involved in the largest bombing raid in US history as the North Vietnames sheltered their soldiers across the border in Laos. In these 2 years, more bombs fell in Laos than were dropped during all of WWII.

Yet, in spite of all this destruction, today they are a wonderful people who have begun to embrace capitalism and open their borders to investment and tourism. We loved Laos and give it an enthusiastic two thumbs up.

Laos

It’s quite humorous that I find Laos to be such an amazing country. After all life has not gone so smoothly for me since our small plane barely landed on the tarmac of the dark airport. The trouble began as I sat in the head customs agent’s office. After paying an extra dollar for my Visa because our plane landed after hours, it was pointed out to me that my passport has less than 6 months of validity left on it. Apparently I am the only world traveler that did not get this memo. I should never have a passport in this state of existence. It is nearly worthless in most countries. Lucky for us a little cash will do the trick - $120 and my meaningless identification had yet another entry stamp emblazoned in its tattered pages.

Luang Probang, in Northern Laos is referred to in our Lonely Planet guide book as the “prettiest city in Asia” This might be true. However, it has also fallen ill to the “Lonely Planet” curse. All of us loyal followers adhere to its words with the voracity to descend like the swarm of adventure-hungry independent traveling locusts that we are, destroying every town, hotel, and restaurant whose name is so fortunate to find it’s way onto the pages of the tattered Lonely Planet bible that rests clutched in the hand of every other tourist who passes. With one finger stuck in the page where a small map of the town resides, we hand over our hard earned cash in abundance, raising prices and crowding the streets with our own kind. Unfortunately, this is the exact thing we have traveled around the globe to avoid. Ahh but not all is lost. Luang Probang is simply too wonderful to be destroyed by the $800 scarves that sit on the shelves of boutique stores and the $40 French restaurants nestled between two $1 noodle soup shops. It is a town teeming with young monks who reside at its more than thirty temples. They march through the streets at 6 am collecting alms for the day from shop owners. Their mere existence is a constant reminder of the country we are visiting, - as if the beautifully colorful tuk-tuks weren’t evidence enough that this was indeed not Kansas.

It’s not so much that 23 people were crammed into the back of a truck on a journey north that bothered me. It was not the sweltering heat. The frequent and jolting stops and uncomfortable seat did not rattle me. It was not even the motorcycle that leaned on its kickstand mid-ship in the truck dripping gasoline on my foot that simply has no other spot the rest but beneath its engine. None of these things disturbed me. What nearly brought me to tears was having not a clue how long the journey would last, and that the guy next to me was smoking. Eventually we reached our destination. The beautiful city of Nong Khiaw’s small write- up in our “Lonely Planet” has spared it. A town must have a map in the guide book before the curse sets in. The swarm must know where to sleep. We lulled the day away reading from the hammocks in our private Sunrise Guesthouse bungalow ($5/night) perched high above the Nam Ou River. Massive Limestone cliffs dripping in lush jungle rose on all sides. Kids played soccer on a small island that surfaces only when the water is low. Ridiculously long river boats motored locals and tourists alike up and down stream.

So far it sounds pretty good doesn’t it? There’s just one hiccup in this story. That’s true. Then there was the fall. We had been hiking through the thick jungle, around freshly scorched rice fields, between thatch houses on stilts, and among the amiable water buffalo for three hours. We stopped every five minutes to pick leaches from our ankles. I had been telling the German in front of me about the amazing durability and usefulness of bamboo. “Did you know that pound for pound, bamboo has twice the tensile strength of steel? It is the fastest growing plant in the world – ten cm a month! It is used in Chinese scaffolding Michael! It is used in concrete as a cheap alternative to rebar! It is a truly renewable building material. You can eat it! It is godlike!” Most of these words fell from my mouth in the moments leading up to the bridge.

I never expected to fall off a bridge in the thick Jungle of Laos. Then again I never expected three sticks of such a wonderful material to give way beneath my weight, depositing me into the river below. I was not scared. Mid-air, as my arms both attempted to roll up imaginary car windows I did not think about the fact that we were thousands of miles from a Western hospital. I did not wonder if I would be hurt. I did not worry that we were three hours by foot from the nearest road. In this moment of clarity, all that passed through my head was the fact that the bamboo had failed me. I felt used.

Of course I was fine. I sat in the muck in shock for 5 seconds while my five trekking partners, Amanda included, ran to my aid. I escaped with a small scratch and nothing more.
Strike two for Laos. But I still love it. The people are amazing. The food is wonderful and the terrain absolutely surreal. I keep expecting a red Jeep to drive by with a T-Rex in close pursuit. Our hike finally brought us to the small village of Phayong. As you stroll down its dirt paths and watch the children throw chickens at each other, it is difficult to know what century it is. Under one of the 40 stilted houses a woman crushes corn with a foot powered mill. Next door, a topless woman holds her new-born slung across her back as she watches her chickens eat from an old basket of feed. Down the street, a man tends to the ten beautiful pineapples growing inside his bamboo fence. Laos is wonderful. This particular village sees about 10 tourists every month. We slept in the home of the Village Chief. For dinner and lunch we chewed on rice and green beans. Breakfast mixed it up a bit with rice and bamboo. Amanda couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She became a vestige of her lens as it pulled her toward every corner of the village. The shutter never rested more the a few seconds.
And this has been Laos. We are headed towards Vientiane, the capital, so I can replace my passport. I’m hoping I don’t receive a third strike in this country because it is really great. No one wants to see Sammy Sosa strike out. It’s just not right.

Goodbye Vietnam

Like a fat kid with a fresh pizza, we have conquered Vietnam. Throughout the last three weeks we have traveled thousands of kilometers and left very few stones unturned. We went to the mountains, the beach and the cities. We traveled by boat, plain, bicycle, motorcycle, tuk-tuk, bus, train, taxi, van, and foot. We said “no” each day to approximately 6210 offers for a “moto” ride, 740 taxi rides, 590 post cards, 380 bowls of soup, 200 scarves, 120 wallets, and 60 offers for “hashish”. Vietnam is a country where you are never more than ten steps away from a hearty bowl of beef noodle soup or “Pho Bo” as long as you can handle squatting on the crowded sidewalk next to a massive boiling pot and thousands of motor bikes. It is a country where Amanda and I found ourselves ditching the hiking boots and renting motor scooters wherever we went. It is an incredible way to get past the tourist trail and truly see the country side. Vietnam is a country where, unfortunately you can trust very few. The meter on the taxi moves twice as fast as the car, the prices suddenly double after your tour is done, the “last train” is actually the first train and costs three times what the local ahead of you just paid. While this certainly wore our traveling souls thin, it was our only complaint throughout the extended visit. Only in Vietnam will twelve dollars get you a beautiful hotel room for the night and seven dollars will buy you three good meals with beer for dinner. And only in Vietnam will you find those amazing conical straw hats that turn every scene – whether city or country, into a beautiful photograph. Vietnam has been great. It is a bitter sweet ending indeed. Laos is next. Aside from streets filled with monks, we have no idea what to expect.

Halong Bay

The middle of Vietnam has become a great memory. We cruised the coast by motorbike in Nah Trang. We burned our tender skin on the beautiful beach in Hoi An. We wandered through ancient streets and alleys and shared rice wine and prawns with local families on vacation. We stood in awe at the chaos of local fish markets. We had clothes made to fit at the very touristy tailor shops. We wandered tombs of ancient rulers in the old capital city of Hue. We rode bicycles through the friendliest of neighborhoods. Amanda’s camera has been busy indeed. After a day in Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam, we headed to Halong Bay in the northeast of Vietnam.

Halong Bay, with its beautiful limestone karsts, is an absolute must see for anyone traveling to this part of the world. Nearly two thousand islands rise from the sea in a truly stunning display of nature’s ability to produce the most beautiful scenes imaginable. Our boat slowly maneuvered through the maze of silent giants for hours on end. Our cameras snapped their way through memory cards and batteries. The islands rise from the sea in grand fashion with thick jungles looking like a full head of hair on handsome heads that stare into the crowded bay. We anchored the boat and explored further by kayak. As we navigated through multiple caves and marveled at the beauty from a closer perspective, the grandness of it all was truly humbling. We spent the first night in a bamboo bungalow on one of the secluded islands. The second night was spent among the karsts on our boat. We are now back in Hanoi awaiting an overnight train to the mountainous region of Vietnam’s northwest.

We've Been Published!!!

It all started with a phone call. Now I am on the cover of a magazine with Amanda as the photographer. The spring issue of Diabetes Forecast was released on May 1st to bookshelves and its 4.4 million subscribers. You can find our article online at http://www.diabetes.org/diabetes-forecast.jsp. Amanda is a professional photographer in Tucson, AZ specializing in Weddings and Portraits. To see more of her work visit www.AmandaPetran.com

To download our article click here

Just like Vietnam

Here we are. This is the controversial country. While many Americans our age strategized and struggled to stay out of Vietnam some 40 years ago, Amanda and I have now converted our hard earned dollars to Vietnamese Dong to see its sights and live its life. Despite many battles in many wars with many nations; in spite of the legacy of unexploded ordinance, Agent Orange birth defects, and a severely depleted population; even though the communists took control of a united Vietnam in 1975, it has transformed itself into a thriving and beautiful capitalist gem in the heart of Asia.

It is a small and leaky wooden boat. The barefoot man standing behind us has just ignited his 6.6 horsepower engine. Attached to the engine by way of a five ft long rod is a small propeller. It is 5 o’clock in the morning and we are motoring down one of the many rivers that connect with the mighty Mekong in the Mekong Delta region of southern Vietnam.

Skip ahead 2 hours to the floating markets of Phong Dien. This is interesting. Someone decided to place the produce section of Safeway in old wooden boats. To our left a woman in the typical Vietnamese garb of loose pajamas and a conical staw hat stands on her small craft filled with pineapples as she rows past a 30 ft long wooden vessel. This particular vessel, along with every other boat, appears to have looked old before construction was completed. It also is motivated by a propeller at the end of a long steel shaft with a hand controlled diesel motor guiding its load of lettuce deftly through this crowd of edibles. On our right a floating cold beverage stand motors by. An ice cold sweet melon tea quenches the thirst of a young Vietnamese man on his break. Shortly thereafter he resumes tossing hundreds of coconuts from his small boat up to the larger one he is tethered to. It is huge and crowded and it is beautiful.

Fast forward another 2 hours. After motoring through the small canals Amanda and I now wander by foot in confusion. Our driver has pulled over and begun to sing karaoke at one of the small houses facing this busy route of commerce. And we can’t help but wonder if the world might be a better place if we all took a ten minute break at 9 am every day to sing a few national hits.

Then we are in Ho Chi Minh City or Saigon as most of the world knows it. Thousands, no, millions of scooters buzz around us. Rather that run, we train ourselves to deftly maneuver through the swarms of Africanized Moto Bees crowding the narrow streets. The key is to keep one steady pace and like a finger in a fresh bowl of jello, they move around us. The War Remnants Museum is wonderful and devastating all at once. The American instruments of war are scattered about in the form of tanks, bombs and airplanes. None of which could stop the north. To be an American has never felt so confusing after staring at hundreds of war images and reading dozens of sad stories. We feel sorrow to know that history often repeats itself.

Yet, this is in the past and Saigon is a bustling metropolis. It also has a slow bus to Dalat where the weather is cool.

Now place Amanda on the back of a motorcycle, her arms raised at her side as she copilots her craft through the strawberry fields, flower farms, coffee plantations, rice fields, and forests of central Vietnam. The Easy Riders have become world famous for their English spoken tours of Vietnam on the back of a motorcycle. It was a beautiful ride indeed.

Fianlly, as though tearing off yesterday’s joke from my page-a-day calendar, we race down the mountains back to the coast in the city of Nha Trang; one of Vietnam’s many beach resorts. We couldn’t resist spending $4.5 dollars to rent a motorcycle for the day. Today was very hot and wonderful, just like Vietnam.