To Asia...and Beyond!

Happy Thanksgiving!  We are thankful that you have been so patient as we've been off the grid.  We covered lots of ground in the last few weeks and will break the journey into a few entries to make it more manageable for the reader (and writer).

When we said goodbye to Europe, we entered that time warp that comes with flying through the night and across many time zones.  We landed in Hong Kong with our bodies telling us it was bedtime and our watches telling us it was early morning.  Disembarking the plane, we were greeted by legions of local residents in surgical face masks passing out swine flu warning literature and using the latest technology to scan our bodies for fever.  For Ben, it was eerily like the sterile welcome he got on his last visit to Hong Kong during the height of the SARS outbreak.

With six hours to burn before our next flight, we hopped on a bus to explore Lantau Island.  Embracing the fact that we traded the continent of old cathedrals for the land of Buddha, we rode a gondola through the lush mountains to the top of the Ngong Ping plateau.  Here we cavorted with the world's tallest outdoor seated bronze Buddha statue and lapped up the sunshine.  We also visited the Po Lin Monastery amidst a sea of pesky tourists.  Our quiet time for the day came at the Wisdom Path, a set of giant wooden pillars containing a carved prayer.

Brains muddy from 48 sleepless hours of travel, we finally reached the charming chaos of Kathmandu.  Our cab ride to the hotel quickly impressed on us that we had left the first world behind.  The jalopy itself was a battered wreck that must have been on its last legs a decade ago.  The car's engine died anytime the car stopped moving, so the driver just flashed his lights as we approached intersections, while we closed our eyes and held on tightly.  Many of Kathmandu's residents were wearing surgical masks too, but this was to protect their lungs from the choking clouds of smog and exhaust in the streets.
 

We booked a trek the following day and then wandered the city's bustling streets.  Walking the maze of dusty alleys is energizing, heartbreaking, gut wrenching, and draining all at once.  The streets are quite narrow and cabs, mopeds, rickshaws, and bicycles buzz past with horns blaring and immense faith in their ability to navigate at top speed with only inches to spare.  Raw meat hangs in the open air of "butcher shops," which are shanties open to the street.  Vendors call out from all sides in an attempt to snag the business of passersby.  Ancient, wizened women sell marigolds for the faithful to offer on the Hindu shrines checkering the city.  Touts incessantly approach the gora (Nepali for "gringo") with offers of trekking guides, hash, tiger balm, and anything else they think might earn them a buck.  We pass mounds of fresh vegetables for sale, squashed rats on the road, beggars, and fancy restaurants with white linen.  It is an invigorating day of exploration that leaves us exhausted and overstimulated.  It ends abruptly when the nightly blackout rolls through town - the Nepali answer to the city's overwhelming demand for electricity after darkness falls.  We picked out our expedition sleeping bags and down coats by flashlight and then got back to work on resetting our sleep schedules.

The first day of our trek looked on paper like a simple transport day, moving from the city to the countryside.  In reality, we got eight hours of true immersion on a local bus with all the sights, sounds, and smells that entails.  The first two hours were spent just escaping the sprawl of the Kathmandu Valley, with stops every few minutes to pick up anyone who waved at the bus.  We started off as two of the five passengers on an empty bus, but quickly found it bursting at the seams.  Each Nepali bus has a team of three employees who work together to pack it to the brim.  One drives, while the other two hang out the open door calling out the bus's destination to all within earshot.  When they acquire a passenger, the "hangers" put the luggage (and sometimes the passengers) on the bus's roof and do their best to jump in as the driver takes off again.  The winding gravel road into the mountains is barely wide enough for two vehicles, so the hangers also walk along the side of the bus and beat a rhythm on the outside that tells the driver how much space he has whenever there is a bus or truck going in the opposite direction.  Whoever thought Croatia's roads were unsafe has never been to Nepal, where each bus driver has a shrine on the dashboard with an idol of his favorite god in hope that this provides safe passage.    

The bus ride was a grueling and entertaining affair, as we rocketed down the pockmarked road.  The antique woman in the front of the bus sent a constant barrage of mucus laden spit out the window.  Old men carrying straw baskets laughed loudly.  Each bus has a distinct and circus-like horn, used liberally at every bend in the road to alert traffic from the other direction, so this carnival blare was a constant serenade.  We stopped at the last gas station on the road to top off the tank and acquired our final cargo - four mammoth gas cans that bounced on the floor next to us for the rest of the trip.  High on the noxious gasoline fumes, we listened to Bollywood hits in Hindi pouring out of the crackly speakers and prayed that no one would light a cigarette in our rolling Molotov cocktail.



(see youtube video of our bus ride at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIVomw_yZXY)

That night we went to bed giddy to be out of the city and anxious to see what adventures were lurking in the snow capped peaks we could see in the distance.  See you soon for a synopsis of our trek! 

European Swan Song

It turns out that England really is as jolley, olde, and liberal with their vouwels as people say.  We spent five relaxing days in London, taking in the sights and inserting "bloody" into as many sentences a possible for no good reason.  London's tube (aka subway) system is incredibly efficient and we spent the days cruising the bowels of the city and popping up for a look from time to time.

Interspersed amongst the rows of classy buildings, one of London's highlights is its incredible park system.  Most of the large parks are the remnants of royal estates and still owned by the monarchy.  We took a peaceful run one morning through Hyde Park, which was once the preferred deer hunting ground of Henry VIII.  We didn't see any deer stands, but there were some empty beer cans on the ground, so it was easy to visualize.

Besides running, we also found that we could get our heart rates up simply by crossing the street.  With the cars driving on the opposite side of the road from the States, there was always a good shot of adreniline to be had as we swiveled to and fro before taking the plunge in any crossing.  We both came away intact, but not with out some close calls.  Taking the wheel in Australia should be quite a treat...

Another of London's most endearing qualities is the fact that most of its amazing museums are free of charge.  We spent a few marvelous days exploring the British Museum and the Natural History Museum.  The British Museum was especially poignant for us, as it gave us the chance to see many of the items the Brits have looted.....errr, "protected", over the years.  Many of these antiquities are Egyptian, Greek, and Roman, and filled in the gaps witnessed on our visits to the sites themselves.

We felt like we should see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.  So we did it and took the requisite photo.  Sweeeeeet.     

On top of the adventures that London offers everyone, it had two treats specifically for us.  First, we got to reconnect with Carolyn's high school friend, Amy, who just moved to the city.  She was a welcome friendly face and kind enough to introduce us to the renowned pub scene.  Second, with the help of many parties (thanks all!) and despite a postal strike, we successfully imported an American computer.  This will be invaluable in staying on top of our blog, backing up pics, planning ahead (from time to time), and generally staying in touch.

When we landed in Istanbul on September 12th, we knew that we had seven weeks to get to London, but little idea of the path we would take to get there.  It's amazing to look back at all the adventures we've had in that span and a reminder that with some time and the right attitude (not to mention some cash), you can figure out just about anything.

Leaving London, we took the first flight on the around-the-world ticket that we bought this spring.  Our first leg was a short one to the Netherlands, where we spent three days exploring Amsterdam.  We rented a great apartment that quickly became home, especially since most of our exploration the first day consisted of what we could see through our rain-streaked windows.  Things cleared up considerably the second day and we enjoyed walking down the bicycle-choked streets of this laid back city.  Plus, Amsterdam has more canals than Venice, giving pedestrians ample opportunity to get away from busy avenues.  Despite its seedy reputation for coffee houses (where you can smoke anything but tobacco) and the working girls of the Red Light District, we would be more apt to describe the city as charming.

We got a taste of the town's serious side too, visiting the house where Anne Frank and seven other Jews hid during the Nazi occupation in WWII.  To get a more complete picture of the era, we also spent an afternoon in the Dutch Resistance Museum, which chronicles the trials of the Dutch people during the war.

Finally, we realize we just set a new record for the timeliness of this blog post, but would like to warn everyone not to get used to it as we are leaving for Nepal in a couple of days.  We are both excited to leave the city scape for mountain vistas, but are not overly confident that wi-fi will be prevalent throughout the country.  If that is the case, our next post will be to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving!