Logistics and Land Mines

We took a side trip back to Bangkok to meet up with our diving gear that an army of Steve's friends were involved in, doing various logistics somersaults, to get a box out to us. We've met up with said baggage and can't thank everyone that was involved enough, especially the Daves. You know who you are and seriously...we can only imagine the trouble you guys went through to make this happen and can't figure out why you guys were willing to do it, but wholly glad that you were. :)

So now we're going to be on a bus to Cambodia on Christmas day. Doing research on the country you see the typical warnings like scams, malaria, and monkeys. But it's a little disconcerting to get to the part of the world where land mines is added nonchalantly to that list. It's a real threat apparently and the suggestions are to 'stay on the beaten path'. Well, as far as I can figure there are only 2 paved roads in the country outside the cities and everything else is dirt. Needless to say we'll be thinking twice before we follow a jungle path to a less visited temple. But what if twice isn't enough?

Planning is Hard Work

We had returned to Thailand after almost a month home in California. It was a last minute decision but a much needed break. When we returned to Bangkok we had the future legs of our travels to figure out. So we went out to beachy Koh Chang and Koh Kood to stay amongst the comforts of aircon, salami, and wifi for 2 weeks. For breaks we explored the island on a motorbike and played with some elephants including a napping baby Dumbo, drove through rubber plantations, and did some puzzles. At one point Steve had to get a monkey off his back that was trying to go through his pockets and bite his ear. We were reluctant to leave but we had planned out the next six months of adventure so it was time to move on. A quick return to Bangkok to pick up a delivery and we would be on our way to Cambodia.

Bangkok's Soft Squishy Tourist Side

Religion is a big part of Thai life. There are always small standing shrines in front of houses and inside businesses. When this pious energy is focused into erecting temples the result is massive ornate structures of color explosion and gold leaf, always topped with pointed roofs. Or sure there's colored glass, painted cement and terracotta flowers to fill in the spaces. You can't miss the rows of brass buddhas smirking down at you with their heavy lidded eyes. The statues of various mythic creatures are always interesting. The half girl-half rooster is something to pause at. So is this guy but I'm not sure what it is.

The old capitol Ayutthaya is a bearable 2hr train ride from Bangkok. It was a glorious temple ridden city, the center of the Thai nation for four centuries until 1767 when the Burmese sacked it. The place was left it in a ruin of rubble so the capitol was relocated to Bangkok. The locals opted to leave the battered remains as they stood as a reminder of the atrocity. So now tourists ride around from temple to temple looking at the mostly red brick remains and beheaded buddhas. It's a nice day trip and some good exercise if you go around by bicycle.

Colorful row boats of fruit, souvenirs and other tourists drift past at thefloating market; another popular day trip. Sure the people living amongst the canals may have once conducted their daily lives afloat but now it's as authentic as the gandola ride at the Venetian.

The traditional Thai massage is done on a stuffed mattress on the floor. The masseuse cleanses your feet with lime water and does a quick prayer before starting. They rub with rocking motions, elbowing your other cheeks, kneeing your back, stepping on your shoulder. They stretch you out, often in ways that you don't normally bend. The result neither relieves nor relaxes but loosens.

Putting on the Pounds

Coming out of Nepal our stomaches were still shriveled from our Himalaya experience. Bangkok was there to fill it back to its bloated form. There were fresh fruit juices galore. Our favorite being mango and passion fruit. There were also refreshingly fresh young coconuts, vinegary tom yum soup, the perennial favorite pad thai, succulent grilled jumbo prawns by the kilo, savory oyster omelets, and crispy chocolate banana crepes. Of course frequent trips to Swensen's ice cream and Subway sandwiches helped too. We also found Isreali places that served good falafel and hummus when we needed a change. There is no shortage of food options here and I found myself counting down the minutes to the next meal.

Thai food in Thailand is completely different than what you'd get outside the country. The taste is fresher, more distinct and flavorful. Each bite hijacks your taste buds for a thrill ride. The food carts and gutter side eateries are often the most tantalizing. And there's no shortage of ambience on the streets.

John got to get some good bites in before heading back to the States. The jumbo prawns never had a chance.

It's a Sherpa's Life

The narrow trails through the Himalayas are made of rocks and dirt, often covered in rain or snow depending on the elevation. There are no motorized transportation, except for the plane to Lukla and the emergency helicopter for the medical evacutees. That means the only way to get supplies throughout the network of villages is on the back of a yak or sherpa. Sherpas out number yaks about 50 to 1. Most people that show up here are on package tours that they arranged ahead of time back where it was warm. An incredibly few number of people attempt the trek without. We were weak and we knew it so when we arrived at Lukla we immediately found a sherpa. Nima, a 5'2" small framed Nepalese, hauled our overstuffed XL duffel bag (about 50lbs) through the mountains while we only carried small day packs. He was always ahead of us, waiting for our slow bums to catch up. Nima came from a long family line of sherpas and started when he was 12 years old. He says that's why he's so short. He was deft and creative at tying bags with knots. His english was decent and doubled as our guide. Sherpas here make on average $8 a day here and during the high tourist months of Oct. and Nov. will traverse these trails 5 times. That made it kind of hard to complain too much about our single trip. During the off seasons the snow pours down on the Himalayas unrelentingly, and without a break so all the shops and guesthouses in the snow zone lock up and head lower. When I asked him what happens if you stay he replied, ''You die." The money they make in the 4 months of tourisms pays for life the rest of the year and it was getting increasingly harder to find independent travelers looking for local sherpas. Nima was literally the back bone of our trip and an ideal companion for these rugged mountains. I was sad that there was no way to recommend him to others as he had no email and no phone.

Teasers from Nepal

As if we're not proud enough of ourselves for finally writing some new blogs (thanks, Mary), I've posted photo albums from Tibet and hopeully will have the Nepal photos up before you read this. I promise they'll be done well before xmas. Here's a couple scenic shots to wet your appetite and make me feel like I did something useful this week.

In a near hallucinatory and frozen state, I started seeing snowmen. OK, that's a stretch, but my fingers were nearly frostbitten when I finished with yetiboy here.

Incredible vista from the 17,000+ foot top of Gokyo Ri, looking over the Gokyo glacier and back down the valley.

And here's what it was all about. One of about 5 photos we took above 18,000 feet on top of Kala Patthar before the freezing winds forced us back down. That would be Everest and Nupste (or Lhotse, I forget) in the background. Everest being the lower peak to the left.

The Nitty Gritty

Not showering for 2 weeks wasn't as bad as I had thought. Sure there were showers available but they were outdoor and the stream fed water would've snapped my hair off. The occasional wet wipe was good enough. For the entire 14 days we were constantly freezing so we never took off our base layer except to quickly change once at the half way point. Well, some of us did. I think the socks probably took the hardest hit. You know it's been a rough hike when you can see the smell wafting off your feet. Really.

It wasn't until we were back in the warmth of Kathmandu that we showered and for the first week our skin slowly sloughed off several layers. It was like we were shedding two weeks worth of skin and dirt all at once.




We stumbled upon just a couple nice bathrooms. Indoor, porcelain and with a door!






Here's one of the most beautiful outhouses in the world, but you really did not want to get stuck going out to it in the middle of the night. Although somebody "smart" propped their tent right next to it.

Wallowing in Dung

Yak dung is brown, but it's gold. It's lovingly hand shaped into convenient patties for drying.Their uses are universal; from making walls, to indoor carpeting, to beds, and most importantly stove fuel. Ah, the smell of yak dung meant warmth.Of course we tried desperately not to notice that the same hands handling the patties then went directly into the kitchen to take care of our dinner. That was one of those taboo subjects.

Yak Sizzler that really sizzles

If only we could've eaten that well the entire 2 week trek. But the culinary offerings of Namche Bazaar is far and away the exception in this the largest and lowest town on the beaten path. Our Himalayan vacation was largely powered by egg and toast in the morning, instant Rara noodles for lunch, and the local lentil soup called dahl bat for dinner. All this was washed down by hot tea, hot lemon, or boiled water. Every guesthouse had the same bland items. After the first few days we started eating as a chore. Though we'd be starving after a six hour hike uphill we'd pick at our food just enough to stave off hunger yet another night. At the base of Mt. Everest we were treated to a left over bag of chili mix from a previous expedition. Of course the local Nepalese cooks hadn't the faintest idea of what to do with it so I squandered my way into a kitchen, not that I knew how to make RV food but atleast I could read the instructions. We had brought a weighty bag of snacks to offset our limited diet. The snickers bars, skittles, sour lemon drops and sausages were all highlights in our daily regiment.We semi-unfortunagtely learned that skittles, lemon drops and happy cola combined under heat and pressure mutate into a single gelatenous brick of pure sugar. Of course, that didn't stop us from gnawing on the brick as Mary demonstrates here.
Oh sure, along the road up snacks like crackers, canned fruit, and chocolate could be found but at $5 per snickers we were glad we bought our own. Even with this gold mine of snacks our daily intake of calories were well under the amount spent traversing the mountains. Over the 14 days we lost at least 10lbs each, with Steve being the most drastic with his 20lb loss. We were all swimming under layers of wool and goretex. So even with our gorgings on Yak sizzler and gorgeous chocolate cake during our two stops at Namche Bazaar our 2 week circuit that took us above Everest Base Camp was an awesome weight loss program. The bonus was walking away with legs of steel.

Dhanyabaad Mr. Roboto

Cold weather causes tremendous shrinkage in the life of a battery leaving it with only 10% of its normal usage. We confirmed this during our trip to the Harbin Ice Festival 2yrs ago. Thus the livelihoods of our combined 3 cameras were at risk. 'Isn't there electricity in the Himalayas?' you ask. The answer is sort of. The 'fancier' guesthouses have a single 15watt bulb in the common eating room that they light from 6-9pm. Outlets? Never saw one. But some entrepreneurial spirits have brought a handful of solar panels to supply tourists with their precious juice. So anyone wanting a charge could pay $5/hr. Just hope your battery recharges quickly. Even then people were only getting half charges due to questionable wiring. But that's why we bring someone along with too much time and no sensible fear of electrical fire hazard. When John first walked off the airport bus way back in Beijing my first question to him was 'What's that on your back?" He looked like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle living in the Matrix. But that's how solar panels on your back are going to change your image. Oh sure there were the common enough glares by locals and tourists alike. They spat out questions like 'What is that?', 'Does it work?', and 'Is that what I think it is?'. And yes, it worked like a charm. Even came with a built in flashlight. We put in a request that next time he jerry rig a heater, or air conditioner as befits the environ.

The Regiment

Up at 6am, not rested but awake. It's 15F, inside the room. There's a painful dryness deep in your throat, maybe as far as your lung. Your breath crystalizes in front of you. You brush with whatever water didn't freeze in the bottle. Force down toast, again. If you thought it was cold indoor, outside there's a considerable windchill factor. Then you hit the road one uphill step at a time. Your fingers and toes are the first to freeze, the kind that hurt your bones. Every morning the first 300ft always seem to be the hardest. Breathing is like sucking dry ice through a straw with a leak in it. It's easiest to stare a few steps ahead, but you can't forget to look up and around at the scenery. That's what you're there for after all. Surely this torment must be for some reason. You scan ahead of you to see where the sherpa is leading, and somehow it's almost always up. Sometimes the worst is down because that just means there's even more up ahead. Now and then there is no worn path so you just have to make your own through the boulder fields hopping from one to the next. The icy spots are the worst. Squeezing past the Yaks takes a bit of finesse and when they're behind you it feels like special olympics version of running of the bulls. Yak's horns are just as sharp and long, and they really don't care where they point them. Lunch is an opportunity to warm up with hot lemon or tea. But you don't want to stop too long because the icy winds pick up after noon and the there's a lot more mountain to climb before you can settle for the night. And your muscles tighten up in this cold if you stop moving. To make matters worst it's the high season so you have to get to the next village early enough to get a bed. The afternoon hike is much like the morning. The chill from being in the sun's shadows is replaced by the bony chilling gusts that penetrates through your fleece. Usually the face gets hit the hardest. Your nose is red and raw from wiping, your ears act as conduits for a perpetual brain freeze, and your eyeballs feel like ice cubes rolling around in your head. Finally you see your destination. At about 4pm you reach the guesthouse and change out of your hiking shoes and socks to give them a chance to dry. Now's the time a shower so grab a wet wipe and you're done in a minute. Grab your book and head into the common room. There's a single stove in the middle of the room and that only gets lit from 6-9pm, same as the sole light bulb. Dinner is usually served around 6pm so you're in bed by 8pm. You're exhausted so even though the elevation won't let you sleep it's still good just to lay down. Hopefully there's extra blankets because your 15F sleeping bag doesn't cut it even with 3 layers of clothes on. Hours later sleep finally arrives and you wake up the next morning to do it all over again. And though it's grueling, physically torturous, and each day is a journey into the unknown the experience is magnificient and you wouldn't trade it for all the comforts of home.

Airport insecurity

To get from the warm, comfortable lower lands of Kathmandu to the epic ranges of the Himalayas we would need to take a 40min roller coaster of a double prop plane ride. Surviving the aerial acrobatics would prove to be the easy part, after all there was nothing we could do about that. The tough part is actually getting on the plane. October is supposed to be the good predictable weather season so planes can take off and land from the parking lot sized tarmac in Lukla, the base of trekking. Trouble was the weather the week before was unseasonably cloudy so no one was flying. When we got to the airport just after 5am the place was a zoo. Locals and tourists were all huddled along the walls, counters, and floors; any available space to lean, sit or lay on. But then this was Nepal so maybe that's what it looks like on any day. One by one the flights were being delayed, then cancelled. Other travellers were sharing their grief as this was their 3rd day waiting at the airport for the chance of getting a flight. Finally at 4pm they cancelled our flight so we headed back to the hotel. Imagine the stupidest ticketing system that is the antithesis of sensibility and efficiency and that's what we battled to get tickets for another flight. With a week of back up securing a seat was like digging for gold. Luckily we found one two days later. Less fortunate individuals didn't even have the flexibility in their limited trip dates to make another try. Well, our 2nd day there was even more ridiculous. We camped out on an unused luggage rack as the hoards of people and their excess baggage cramped the small, stuffy building. No information was being given about whether or not any tickets were going to be usable that day so everyone was in a state of mutual exasperation. It was the Wild West of airports. There were no such thing as lines, rules, or security. Somehow I found myself with the task of pestering the head honcho of the airline we were supposed to fly with. Oh sure he tried to wave me off the first few times with waiting times grabbed out of thin air but then I stuck with him like a bad haircut until he gave me something concrete. By noon there was confirmation from Lukla airport that the clouds were clearing so their airport would open up. That made my resolve to annoy him until he got us on a flight grow. At one point the stress was so much for the guy standing next to me that he went into a grand mal seisure and had to be taken away. When push came to shove I squeezed myself to the front of the line and climbed over the counter to make sure our names were written on the passenger manifest. What was at risk was the entire 2 week trek to Everest itself. It was such a relief make it up to the mountain and not have to resort to Plan B because we didn't have one. We honestly had settled ourselves on having to give up Everest and didn't think we'd make it. Having conquered that trial we had a bounce in our step, but it wouldn't last long. There was still the flight back to consider.

Follow the yellow brick road

It's evening in Kathmandu and I just got a helpful phonecall from our travel guy (I guess?) to let me know that all the flights for the last two days to our Himalayan destination Lukla had been cancelled due to weather. But I shouldn't worry, our 7:30am flight tomorrow will be ok. Whatever.
So either we'll be on a crack of dawn flight to the hills for a 16 day hike up near Everest... or I'll be back here slowly posting pictures. But assuming all goes well, we'll be on the trail until the 27th with nothing but our sleeping bags, 8 layers of clothing, cup-o-noodles and thoughts of you to keep us warm.

Run for the Border, the Hard Way

The route from Everest to the border first followed a dusty frontier trail through rolling hills with Himalayan backdrop. Finally hitting the "Tibet/Nepal Friendship Highway", we had road for 4 more hours before hitting a little outpost town just a couple hours off the border. The remaining road is under simultaneous con/de-struction and only open at night. Our plan was to circumvent this by sneaking in early in the morning before sunrise. It's a good plan and we're cruising on this one lane dirt/rock/rubble cliffside "road" by 7am.We slowly work our way through several sheep herds before sunrise (about 8:30 here) and then come across our first serious obstacle of the day, a cargo truck hanging precariously over 1000 foot drop - and blocking our passage. After a couple hours of discussion between the parties not involved, a bulldozer and backhoe work in harmony to simulateously upright and pull the truck to safety.A few more goatherds, several backhoes blocking the road and we make it to the actual border town. Unfortunately, this town is a one lane road that winds down a very steep hill. The cargo trucks waiting to cross block the single lane and makes passage to the immigration check and then across the 4 mile "no-man's land" to Nepal an incredibly time consuming act. Nepal immigration was a snap. We were practically dragged by border guards through the throngs of Chinese and Tibetan travellers massed around the entry gate and into Nepal before we even knew it.Then there's the 5 hour ride into Kathmandu. After a head-on bus accident, a flat tire, a couple goat herds and 4 hours we hit the thickest, grossest smog we'd ever seen. It's like there's a ring of soot around Kathmandu. Ugg. From there, it was an hour of horrible non-stop-honking traffic to get to the center of town and our hotel. All told, 12 long hours on the road for the day I chose to have food poisoning.

Smiling for the camera

This is us at the official Everest Base Camp sign in Tibet. John and I were already feeling the onslaught of AMS so just after this picture we got carted back to the tent and slumped down for the rest of the day. Even the next morning we were dosing in and out of consciousness so we drove down post haste. It wasn't until noon, and 7000ft lower that we started to recover.

Everest, the Easy Way

After Lhasa, we hopped into a 4x4 with our driver and government mandated and utterly useless "guide" for a 6 day trip through the countryside, out to Everest and on to the Nepal border. The landscape is so much more diverse than I imagined, and we saw only a small part. We started with the brilliant blue high mountain lake of Yadrok set against green hills and distant snowcapped peaks. We passed through sand dunes on our way to our first remote monastery. Unfortunately, remote here just means the hordes of tourists come together in big buses.Next stop, a monastery next to a fortress with a great dungeon. And there's no rules here, just a ladder into the darkness. Even better, -nobody- visits the fortress so we're all alone in the dark! Well, we hope we're alone...After a few quality frontier 'hotels' we won't talk about ever again, we closed in on Everest. The peak straddles the Tibet / China border and there is a "base camp" for climbing the on either side. The dubious 'beauty' of the Tibetan side is that you can drive a 4x4 right up to base camp and find a village of semi-permanent tent hotels and restaurants. And of course, the mountain jumps right out of the valley in front of you.Quomalangma as it is known here is a truly spectacular sight, but none of us see the sanity of risking your life to climb it.We had a little fun here when our guide and driver insisted we could not walk any further beyond the camp, even though we were pretty sure we could. So we did. A couple hour hike out, they meet up with us (in the 4x4) at a frontier police checkpoint and - call the cops on us! Seriously, other people are crossing a checkpoint without any interaction, but our wonderful guide actually gets us pulled into a guard shack where we argue over the validity of our permits and then they hold our passports to make sure we return! Actually, they finished by saying our permits were invalid and we needed to leave the country immediately. Good times. We continue on just a bit to a viewpoint and then return to catch our breath and our passports before heading down the hill to find a tent to spend a freezing night at 17,000 feet in.

Tibet, the New China

Tibet is not an easy place to get to. It is part of China, although China requires multiple "permits" in addition to the standard Chinese visa to get aroud. Of course, you can't get the permits anywhere other than Tibet (which you can't get to legally without a permit), so you have to work with a travel agent or similar intermediary who will do the legwork for you. The point is that they want you to be on a guided tour at all times where your actions and interactions with Tibetans can be controlled. We followed a pretty common western tourist route from Lhasa to the foot of Everest and then on to the Nepal border and it required two or three separate permits. Apparently venturing out into the untouristed northern or eastern parts of the country is incredibly difficult.It all seems a bit pointless to me as the Chinafication of Tibet since absorption in 1957 seems utterly complete. Lhasa itself is something like 80% Chinese. The countryside is claimed as largely Tibetan, but that just means the Chinese run the shops while the Tibetans farm or sell sourvenirs to tourists. The serious pilgrims at the monasteries are entirely Tibetan, but the monks are all Chinese! Road and store signs are always written in Chinese and sometimes in Tibetan. It is sad to see a culture slowly erased, but I suppose that happens. The Chinese people who have moved here and taken over are just like any other people looking for better opportunities. It's hard to blame anyone but a government trying to extend it's borders. It just means if you travel to Tibet go in expecting China.

The Ballad of Denise and Dave's Postcard

Writing postcards is fun when you find just the right one for someone. You write the note, address later when you have the address book handy and off it goes when you're lucky enough to find a stamp and postbox.So goes it with this uncanny visage of what could be Dave's Han forefather, a Xi'an terracotta warrior general. Quite unfortunately, I made the oh-so-simple mistake of misaddressing the card (to ourselves!) when doing that job a couple days later. Ok, no problem. It'll just wait until we get to Lhasa and I borrow some available double-sticky-sided tape, a slice of white paper and make my new address label. I grab a good pen to ensure legibility when writing out the new address.Then -BOOM, POW, KERSPLAT-. Ever open a rollerball pen that has seen a 17,000 foot change in altitude? So now the card is covered in ink; my hand is covered in ink; my FOOT is covered in ink. There's a bit of ink on the bed and floor where my body, shirt and pants couldn't protect. It's carnage and Mary and John can only look and laugh. Within the hour, I'm cleaned up and the work is finished. Denise, Dave - I don't know if this card will survive the Chinese postal inspectors, but know that truly unreasonable efforts were put into getting it to you.

On the road to Everest Base Camp, Tibet

We are packed, with way too much clothes and food, on this the eve of our Everest Base Camp attempt on the Tibet side. Okay, so all we're going to do tomorrow is sit in a car for 7hrs but that doesn't sound nearly as exciting. Over the next few days we'll be seeing the Tibetan mountainside, staying in villages, trying yak butter tea, gaining altitude and trying to acclimate. Our goal is to spend the night at the tents in base camp at 17,000ft with Mount Everest looming over head.

Given our earlier encounter with altitude sickness we're trying to take every precaution to make each step a success. This is testing ground for us as next we will be making the 15 day hike on the Nepal side to their Everest Base Camp. That will be much more challenging and physically demanding.

He's Alive!

Although I recovered from Acute Mountain Sickness, more commonly known as altitude sickness, after a day of sleeping, headaches, and throwing up... John was not so lucky. He stayed in bed for 2.5 days. Each day he was awake for maybe an hour total, coherent for much less than that. Finally on the 3rd day we threatened to have an IV shoved into him because he wasn't keeping any food down. I know Lhasa is technically China but none of us were in a rush to try out the needle inventory here. I think that did the trick because on the next day he was able to get out of bed and, more importantly, eat.

Now we're all back to mostly ourselves. The lower oxygen here at 11,000ft is making us out of breath just from walking around town. Another problem with the altitude is that all our shampoos, lotions, and pens are bursting but that's much more manageable.

When it rains, it pours

I've had a lot of free time the last couple days, so there's been some good progress on photos. Albums from Malaysia, including our scuba adventures with Peter and John are up.

More exciting if you have plenty of bandwidth to steal from the boss, the video collection has quadrupled in size and is caught up through diving in Malaysia.

Enjoy!

Live from the train to the roof of the world

September 27th, depart Xining in Western China
10:15pm The "hard sleeper" cars on this train are crazy. Six bunks stacked 3 high in a narrow compartment with no door.

September 28th, somewhere on the rails to Lhasa
6:30am A thin band of sky sandwiched between the endless horizon and the low clouds is glowing a radiant yellow as sun rises over Tibet.

7am The cabin lights come on and the overhead speakers shout something at us before playing Chinese opera music. I guess it's time to get up.

10am We're running through snowcapped peaks. I'm sure our photos will show nothing but the intense white of the snow fading into the soft white of the clouds that blanket us.
12:15pm Mary and John can no longer handle the beauty. They retreat to their bunks to hide out for a while and see if they can shake the altitude sickness.

2:30pm Some people absolutely love riding trains. I'm finding it totally frustrating. Every time I pick up a book or startup the laptop, some amazing scenery shows up and I have to run and get the camera. It's really distracting. Worst part is that the only windows that open are in the bathrooms. Yech.

3pm John is still sleeping and Mary feels a bit queasy. I had a little shortness of breath quite a while ago, but it's been ok for a couple hours. I think we've already hit the 17,000 foot pass and should be heading back down, so hopefully they start feeling better soon.

3:20pm I just finished a whole package of wasabi peas. I've already finished catching up on our China photos and there's nothing left to do but eat and sleep!

4:30pm The plains just go on and on. Mary and John are still feeling a bit unwell and are back into bed. It's truly beautiful here, but it just keeps going! I'm almost bored with the constant beauty.
6pm Mary is feeling worse and John is still asleep. I just put her on oxygen to fight the altitude sickness. I'll go wake John up in a few minutes and get him on O2, too.

8:30pm The sun has gone down and left a brilliant royal blue background to the black mountains around us. It's a beautiful sight. Mary hasn't gotten any better with the O2 and both of them are still asleep. It's been a lonely day for me!

September 29th - Lhasa
12:15am Finally in bed! The train arrived by 11, but it took us half an hour to gather our gear (and Mary and John) and get out of the station. Luckily, the frantic hostel owner waited for us even though all other passengers and the train crew were already gone.

What the -bleep-?

We've finally gotten off our butts and posted a few blogs for the last 6 weeks of travel that covers Malaysia, Hong Kong, Macau and a bit of China.

It wasn't bad enough that it took so long for us to get moving, but when we did we found that the blog is banned in China. Apparently the Chinese censors can't handle all the uncontrolled content at blogspot.com, so they just block everything. So that's our excuse for the poor formatting (and writing?) in all the posts below - because we can't see what we're posting!

That's right, the blogspot domain is blocked so we can't see our final posts, but the censors haven't figured out that it is through blogger.com that all the objectionable content get's put on the web. Yes, we have peeked at it through an anonymizer, but that's just too slow and I'm too lazy...


Better yet for you non-readers out there, the photo albums for Indonesia are posted. Just click on Indonesia in the itinerary list to the right.

It's well past my bedtime now, so go read the blogs. We wake up in a couple hours to fly east to Xining where we'll catch the highest train in the world to Lhasa. Yay!

Now Serving 115,495,330

Mary didn't believe me at first when I said we should go to Beijing on this trip just to have roast duck. But I was serious. I had Peking Duck for the first time when we were here 2 years ago and it was a life altering experience. I vowed then that whenever I returned to China, I would come back to Beijing for dinner. She quickly succumbed to my plan and so we find ourselves now in Beijing.

We returned today to the 150 year old restaurant near the Forbidden City where they actually track the number of ducks they've served during that time to emperors, kings, presidents and us. It's a magical place, from the duck to the atmosphere, to the giant LED sign on the wall that tells you that duck number 115 million just popped out of the oven. Yeah, maybe it was a little touristy, but mmmmmm.

As we passed Tiananmen Square today, focused on our impending happiness, we stumbled not across the gate that leads to our ducky wonderland, but a giant wall enclosing block after block of the Qianmen district.

In preparation for the upcoming Olympics, this historic area that was home to houses, shops and our dinner is being razed to make way for a Chinese Santana Row which will have none of the character or charm of the original. Since this blog is being censored here anyway, I'll just say that it stinks that China is tearing chunks of real history and culture out (not to mention displacing how many families and small businesses) just to give Olympic tourists a Disney-fied China.

Fortunately for our stomaches, the Quanjude restaurant does have a temporary location until the reconstruction is complete, so we did get our fix. But it just wasn't the same. So tomorrow we'll try our host's recommendation for the new best roast duck in Beijing, serving #15,621.

-Steve

My Achy Breaky Knees

Our last (only?) Everest base camp warm-up hike before the real thing was to Huashan, a group of five mountain peaks a 2 hour bus ride from Xi'an. Locals go in droves to take the cable car up to the lowest peak and walk around a bit. Younger locals start at the bottom around midnight and hike up to the 6000ft eastern peak to catch sunrise. We're not local and no longer young, so we took the middle ground and started up the windy path from the bottom at 8am, did a circuit of all 5 peaks and stopped for the night at a hotel on the eastern peak at 7pm so we could more leisurely catch the 6am sunrise the next day. That's 10 hours (1hr for breaks) on an unrelenting stairmaster.

The trail is typical Chinese mountain style: narrow and random height steps cut into the mountain, often with a precipitous drop on either side. At its best, the steps are cut vertically into the face with a chain to pull yourself up. Half of the steps were only deep enough to land a third of my foot so we had to climb the stairs by sidestepping.

Then there's the "Plank Path", a completely insane set of dilapidated wooden boards set onto spikes set along a sheer cliff face a good 3000 feet off the valley floor below. I'm guessing a bit at the height here because I tried my best to not spend too much time looking down.

Sunday morning, we were yanked out of bed at 5:30 by a bullhorn announcement in Chinese that it was time to get up and run to the peak. At the top were a couple hundred cold locals, many of whom slept on the hill or just outside our door in rented heavy Chinese army winter coats.

Sunrise was beautiful, but a bit sad to see the sun rise not over the horizon as much as over the layer of smog that blanketed the horizon.

--Steve

Letting our fingers do the ordering

We don't know how to speak or read mandarin so when it came to reading Chinese menus we were sadly useless. We found the best way to satisfy the stomach was to point at what other people were chowing down. This ended up working very well as we got to taste some great stuff that we otherwise wouldn't have known to order.

Bowl of crossing bridge noodles famous in Xian. It only comes in one size, enormous.

Hot pot with spicy goodness, a Sichuan specialty.

Grilled skewers of pork, eggplant, stuffed buns, quail eggs, lotus root, tofu, mushrooms and so much more . Street food at its best in Jiuzhaigou.

If only Ansel Adams had been to Jiuzhaigou

Jiuzhaigou is one of the premier Chinese tourism locations with tens of thousands of locals visiting from all over China each week. The beauty of this national park is astounding if you can only get around all the other tourists shouting into their cell phones while bumping you to take a picture of their spouse in a Tibetan fur hat. It's an absolute zoo at the popular sights. We did our best by starting as soon as the park opened and walking the back country paths instead of taking the bus. That allowed us to take photos that make it SEEM like there aren't a thousand people around, but there really are in most cases.

All good destinations start with a good meal.
Pearl Shoals waterfall

The amazing color of 5 Flower Lake. No photoshop here.

Crystal clear waters of Panda Lake

Grilled skewers to finish off the trip

The army that time forgot

In 1974 a farmer was digging a well for water after a 3 month drought. Five meters down he pulled up a clay head. He had hit a far corner of the pit that housed the now famous pit of terracotta warriors near Xian containing an estimated 6000 big life-sized statues. It's an estimated number because maybe a fifth of it has been excavated. The rest is still under layers of dirt and clay waiting to be released. Every night a team of archaeologists painstakingly brush away the debris then piece together the parts. All the soldiers were found in pieces so now it's a giant jigsaw puzzle of history.

The army was created by the first emperor of China. Before Emperor Qin China was made up of seven dynasties each with their own currency, spoken and written language. In 221BC he conquered all seven kingdoms under heaven and united them, the new nation named after him. Part of his lasting legacies is a common language and money. One mile to the west was his mausoleum, and here stood his army facing the east to protect him from invaders. After his unexpected death on the way to an inspection his eleven year old son became the second emperor and his stone army was placed inside the ground, covered with a timber and straw roof and sealed from the world. Peasant uprisings spread throughout the country and the inexperienced emperor lost his head. The new ruler broke into the pits smashing the statues and setting fire anything that would burn. For two thousand years the remnants of the soldiers laid buried under ash and dirt.

Since the first excavation two other pits had been discovered, with the first being the largest by far. The clay that was used to make the army and their tunnels were brought from 50km away and is attributed to the strength and resilience that allowed these terracotta time capsules to last through the ages. They were made hollow to minimize weight and lower the risk of explosion during firing. Each is unique and vary not only in the hair, shoe tread, clothes, height and girth but expressions and proportions. Two hours after exposure to air their color dries up and disappears leaving them the earthy yellowish brown of dirt. To see them stacked in their reconstructed formation is equally as impressive as seeing the partially exumed shards. There is decades if not centuries of work left to be done.

The Ow Dynasty

Our first stop in China was to visit the family in Guangzhou. This meant gut expanding dinners with some outrageously good food. The Ow clan is quite large as my dad was the oldest of 7 siblings. When you put their families and kids' families in one room to eat it's quite a party. There are a few really fun characters in the bunch to keep things lively. And they all know how to eat the best stuff. My cousin Amy took us to have snake porridge. It's a weird thing to say 'You've got snake skin in your teeth.' Third aunt made sure Steve got plenty of hot peppers. They found it entertaining that he could use chopsticks, and was left handed. One of the uncles said Steve was a white guy that looked asian because he was so dark.

Third Uncle took a day off to take us out to see my 86 year old grandmother, recovering from hip surgery. She was quick to show us her scar. She has no teeth and bad hearing but was feisty, talkative and smiley. This is only my 2nd time seeing her since we emigrated to the States 27 years ago. Our few days with them didn't seem long enough. But they were going so far out of their way to accommodate us that staying any longer would've been too much guilt to bear. Seeing them made me wish we weren't an ocean apart.

Short timers in Macau

Wish we had more to say about Macau, but we don't. We took the short ferry over from Hong Kong and spent just a short day here. The Portugese influence on Asian culture makes for some interesting architecture and food. We saw these sheets of processed pork all over. Sort of a melt in your mouth pork roll-up.

There was a bit of work going on in the main square to prepare for some kind of party. Lucky for us, they left the fruity props lying on the ground for us to play with.