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Siem Reap, Cambodia: Monkeys, Superheroes and Dr. Fish

Siem Reap is an odd duck. Its tourism sector has grown quickly, and so in some ways, like its dense section of shops, bars and restaurants–including a “Pub Street”–it is a bit like Las Vegas, Southeast Asia-style. It isn’t until you get out of Siem Reap that you start to get a real feel for the culture. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed our visit, and the nearby Angkor temple complex is spectacular, but the two do make very strange neighbors.

We spent five nights there in late Nov- early Dec 2014. I was glad to have the extra time because I was wrecked by a sinus infection so it allowed us to slow our “templing” pace (yes, it’s used as a verb there). I think our timing was perfect: temperatures start to climb in December, peaking in May, and I could not even imagine being out at the temples–which are far from all amenities, even toilets–during the most intense of Cambodia’s weather cycle. It was punishing enough as it was!

Here are a handful of snapshots from Siem Reap, the Angkor temples and the stilt-supported fishing villages that lie along the Tonlé Sap, a combined lake and river system that is the largest freshwater body in Southeast Asia.

Dr. Fish Massage - Siem Reap — Free beverage included!

It's nice to be special — It’s nice to be special

Hope you enjoyed these, and I’d love to hear what you think in the comments below! xo

Hello to Hanoi and Halong Bay

By Laura Zera 12 Comments

Hoàn Kiếm Lake, Hanoi's Old Quarter — Hoàn Kiếm Lake, Hanoi’s Old Quarter

When we visited Vietnam in November, we never expected we’d make it all the way up north (we really weren’t relishing the idea of too many flights, no matter how short). But from Ho Chi Minh to Hue to Hoi An, everyone we met who’d been around for a while said, “my favorite place on this trip was Halong Bay.” So we went. And as much as I like to be the purple sheep, this time, I can’t disagree.

It cost $37.53 each to fly from Da Nang to Hanoi on Jetstar. Once in Hanoi, we stayed in the Old Quarter for a night on either side of our three days in and around Halong Bay.

Just for a bit of fun, the population of Hanoi is 7 million. Guess how many motorcycles and scooters are in the city?

With the way things roll, visiting Halong and Cat Ba Island is one of the times when it makes sense — and is probably cheaper in the long run — to book a tour. We did ours with Vega Travel.

For $160 each, we had hotel pick-up and drop-off in Hanoi, a night on a lovely boat, a night in the beautiful Hung Long Hotel (I’m not even joking) on Cat Ba Island, fantastic six- or seven- or eight-course meals aboard the boat, park entrance fees covered, kayaks provided, and hikes, swims, cycle trips and paddles with the extraordinarily patient and gracious Chuk, our guide. Our group was 16 on the first day, and only 6 on the second, so very manageable, and no fists flew to get the last prawn off the serving plate.

Here are a few shots from this memorable part of our Vietnam travels.

They don't much like to paint all four sides — They don’t much like to paint all four sides

Halong Bay 1d — See the little man at the bottom?

Halong Bay 1c — A quiet bay, accessible only by kayak

Year-end Fun: Updates on Past Posts – Travel & More

By Laura Zera 16 Comments

I’m going to put a slight twist on the “year in review” concept and instead give some updates and add-ons to previous posts that have appeared on my blog.

First, an update on the Heladería Coromoto ice cream shop in Mérida, Venezuela. I first called out this shop in the post Ten Whackadoo Travel Facts, highlighting its Viagra ice cream. Just a couple of days ago, I read that it has shut down until at least mid-January due to a milk shortage. Now the question is: do we blame the socialists or the cows?

I’ve spent a pretty good amount of time talking about edible things from animals’ bums on this blog – Say, Did That Strawberry Flavor Come From Beaver Butt? and My Cup of Wild Civet Coffee are two such occasions. Now my good pal Jo-Anne Teal (seriously good flash fiction author over at Going For Coffee) has brought it to my attention that elephants are now being touted as the next coffee-bean-pooping rock stars. So basically, any animal who shits out a bean is now a market commodity.

One of my favorite stories on this blog was the post Trinidad and Old Friends, which told of a 74-year-old gentleman that I met on a bus in Port of Spain. There was just something about him and his story that stuck with me, and despite asking the bus driver of that particular route to look out for him, and passing notes through the marketing manager for the bus line, sadly, I was never able to locate the dapper gentleman again. So, the mystery of his friend in New Westminster, B.C. remains unsolved.

I also lost touch with the fellow I wrote about in my post Let Me Give You a Quarter for the Shoes. He no longer occupies the corner by the KFC, nor any other nearby intersection, so has probably moved on to another city. There have been plenty of others filling those spots around town, however, as the number for people living in poverty in Washington state has topped 14 percent. Add a severe mental illness into that equation and the odds are stacked against you.

Now to the friends I can still find! I’ve had a number of great people come and guest blog for me over the last three years. Where are they now? Well, here are some updates on a few of them.

Author and blog coach Molly Greene visited in May 2012. At the time, she’d just released her first book; now Molly has five books out and is about to release the sixth. This woman works hard!

There was also Kendall Hunter, my old chum from when we lived in South Africa, and both author and photographer. Kendall was working on a book about female photojournalists around the world. From what she’s told me, it’s morphing quite a lot – oh, how books change shape, hey? In the meantime, she’s creating a really cool website and mobile app called CultureDock, where young people can find and post information about cross-cultural information and experiences.

Then there was Jeri Walker-Bickett, who contributed a moving essay that continues to be one of the most popular on my site. She was writing her novel then, and still is – oh, how books can take a long time to birth, hey? She’s got a couple of short travel memoirs out, set in Yosemite National Park, and has built a solid freelance editing business. If you have a manuscript (or other) in need of some love, drop Jeri a line.

Next, author Nadine Christian (of the Fletcher Christians) came to hang out, and shared all about life on the remote and remarkable Pitcairn Island. Nadine has since staged her own mutiny – okay, maybe that’s a bit extreme – and moved to New Zealand earlier this year. Her Twitter feed photos of her five kids experiencing life in a big city for the first time is a riot.

Chickybus’s Lisa Egle spun through my site about a year ago to talk about one of our favorite things: female solo travel. In 2014, Lisa spent time in Colombia and has put up some fantastic photos and posts about her visit. If that’s a country that interests you, you’ll find more here.

In the travel post Vacation Clothing Essentials, I shared my love for merino wool in all temperatures, freezing cold and blazing hot. An add-on for any of you who are bothered by the itchy factor (which is usually minimal already in a good merino piece): I/O Merino has gathered a bunch of sheep and conditioned the hell out of their sheepy hair – bottle after bottle of Pantene – and as a result, their clothes are beyond soft. I road-tested a t-shirt that was sent to me right before my recent SE Asia trip, and man, it was like wearing jammies. P.S. They’re having a HUGE end-of-year sale right now. HUGE.

It might be stupid to give away intel on my finds of amazing and relatively deserted spots around the globe, but that’s just what I did with Gilligan’s Island in Belize. I’m sad to report that Tobacco Caye has now been approved for a supermall, and construction is due to start in 2015. Noooooo, that’s not true. Actually, it has been completely submerged by rising water levels, a fatality of global warming. Nooooo, that’s not true either. It’s in fine shape, and I’d still advise that if you’re going to Belize and don’t like the vibe of Ambergris Caye (where most people go), head a little further south and you will be richly rewarded.

Finally, it was back in 2011 when I first published a post called Love in the Time of Saran Wrap, all about how the only thing that survived my long-term relationship with a guy named Hank was a 2500-foot roll of plastic wrap. At the time of writing, that roll was 15 years old. A year later, my husband Francis emphatically stated that he wanted to start his own roll of plastic wrap with me, and gifted me with 2000 feet for Christmas. It took until August of 2014 for the christening of that one, meaning that the old Hank roll lived to be nearly 18 years. Respectable for any relationship, I’d say, but my instinct tells me that the new roll will go further.

Stay tuned for another spin of this format in a couple of weeks, where I’ll do updates that are focused on mental health news follow-ups.

Thank you for being here, and I wish you a divine and prosperous 2015, in the way that’s most meaningful to you.

Photo of Asian elephant: By Yathin S Krishnappa (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

The Neediest Tissue Box in Ho Chi Minh City (and other photos)

By Laura Zera 14 Comments

Another selection of photos from my recent trip to Vietnam; this time, some of my favorites of Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon). With a population of about 8 million, there is almost one motorbike for every second person, and the “moto life” is a culture all unto itself. Also interesting was the Reunification Palace, where visitors step into a time machine and travel back to see exactly what this perfectly preserved place looked like on the day Saigon fell, back in 1975.

So hard to choose... — So hard to choose…

A Comms Room at the Reunification Palace

A rather delusional view of the relationship

Like a motorcycle gang, but not — Like a gang, but not

And motos breed the need for this — Motos breed the need for this

Determined not to get sun damage: mask, hoodie, gloves, apron and... stilettos — Determined not to get sun damage: mask, hoodie, gloves, apron and… stilettos

Explaining why American soldiers didn't fit in the tunnels — Explaining why American soldiers didn’t fit into the wee tunnels

Things to See Between Hue and Hoi An, Vietnam

By Laura Zera 8 Comments

I’ve got some new visuals from Vietnam this week, having juts spent the last two there. While the long-and-skinny-ness of the country forced a few more flights than I like to normally utilize for getting from A to B, my husband and I decided to take advantage of the scenic drive between Hue and Hoi An (in central Vietnam).

Our hotel in Hue, the spiffy clean Serene Palace, provided two options: public bus, or a $65 private car. A backpacker at heart, I wandered into a hostel around the corner, knowing they’d have less expensive tour itineraries. For $11 each, Francis and I booked a mini-bus tour with Tannhat Travel to take us (and one other guy from Korea) the 140 kilometers, but with an English-speaking guide and four stops en route.

First up was the village of Thanh Toan, just outside Hue. Highlights there included the local market, the carved-wood Japanese-style covered bridge, and the teeny tiny woman in the museum, who turned the tutorial on traditional rice farming into a memorable five-act play.

Next we made a pit stop at Lang Co Bay. Given that the resort hotel was dead quiet and there wasn’t another soul on the beach, it seems like the public toilet in the souvenir shop is what sees the most action these days.

Our diesel mini-bus chugged up some serious switchbacks to deliver us to Hải Vân Pass, which means “ocean cloud” in Vietnamese, and sits at an elevation of 500 meters (1627 feet). The trickiness of the road has led to the construction of a tunnel for regular commuters, but the views keep the tourists coming. Notable was an old brick structure that was pock-marked with war wounds.

The final destination was the Marble Mountains, which lie just outside the city of Da Nang. After climbing the main staircase to the top of one of the five mountains, caves, tunnels, buddhist sanctuaries and an Australian high school rappelling expedition all came into view.

That’s all for now. Hope you enjoyed these. My current location is Siem Reap so stay tuned for some Cambodia posts, too!

p.s. I will end with a small cat on a chair.

Carving shops at the foot of the mountains

Travel: What About a Gap Year?

By Laura Zera 16 Comments

It’s funny how even simple concepts evolve to have different practical applications, depending on which part of the world you’re in. Take the idea of a gap year, for instance. The term originated in the U.K. in the 1960s, and it has basically always meant to go on a relatively unstructured overseas trip after high school. You might work (in a bar or a restaurant or a youth hostel), but just enough to earn the dough required to get to the next town or country.

In the traditional sense of the term “gap year,” it’s not what you do that’s important, it’s the overall life experience that matters. Meeting people from different cultures. Trying new things. Soaking it all up. Because let’s face it, when you’re 18, you’re either staring at a two- to four-year study program, or you’re starting a job, part-time or full-time. Either way, you’re about to become somebody else’s bitch.

A gap year is about not being anybody’s bitch.

(Like I said, you may work, but do you care about that job? No. Do you care if you get fired from that job? No. Do you sleep with your boss? Maybe. That’s just the way it goes.)

Sounds great, doesn’t it? So then why, oh why, do some countries insist on smushing that notion of a gap year right between their thumb and forefinger?

In Japan, the practice of matching students with jobs before graduation cuts the gap year off at its knees. (This would explain why it is that when you actually encounter Japanese travelers, they are usually chain smoking and prematurely grey.) The United States–the only advanced economy in the world that doesn’t guarantee its workers paid vacation, it’s worth noting– has turned a gap year into something of a higher pursuit. This quote comes from Wikipedia:

“During this gap year, American students engage in advanced academic courses, extra-academic courses and non-academic courses, such as yearlong pre-college math courses, language studies, learning a trade, art studies, volunteer work, travel, internships, sports and more, all for the purpose of improving themselves in knowledge, maturity, decision-making, leadership, independence, self-sufficiency and more, thus improving their resumes before going to college.”

Hold on, does that say “yearlong pre-college math courses?” And “improving themselves?” What blasphemy! It’s the same mentality that has one-year-olds on waiting lists for the “right” kindergarten. How about just going overseas to open your eyes, your mind and your soul, whilst leaving the hidden agenda at home, okay, campers?

Here’s the thing. The post-high school gap year is an opportunity like no other to be a free individual. You don’t have to worry about repaying student loans. You don’t have to worry about serious relationships. You don’t have to worry about having identified the perfect career. You’re still a kid. Go out and play, for God’s sake. (And use a condom.) All that other stuff will be waiting for you when you get home. What’s more, you will have had an education of the most deliciously insidious kind, one that really teaches you to assess and question, and that will stick with you for a lifetime. Can you say that about a pre-college math course?

Parents, I know you’re probably thinking that you can’t imagine sending your freshly graduated son or daughter out into the world in an “unstructured” way. It’s too dangerous, and they’re not ready for it, and they might get robbed (yup, they might). But if you’ve got a cherub-cheeked 18-year-old who still forgets to lock the back door when they go out and who has never grocery shopped or managed a budget, then IT’S EVEN MORE IMPORTANT THEY GO. Let them go, and cry on the ride home from the airport.

Inarguably, the year that most shaped the rest of my life was my gap year, when I traveled to Israel with a school friend. We lived and “worked” on a kibbutz. I was 18. I packed all wrong. I had nothing wise to contribute to conversations with my peers. I didn’t speak or read Hebrew. I suntanned with baby oil. Nobody (wrongly) worried about AIDS. I hitchhiked. The intifada started that year.

I also heard firsthand stories of apartheid from my peers. I learned to take care of babies. I picked up some Hebrew, and a handful of Swedish swear words. I discovered I like schnitzel. I floated in an inner tube down the Jordan River. I grew to know the streets of Old Jerusalem like the back of my hand. I met a woman who taught me about unconditional love.

In 2006, Lonely Planet ran what I think was a brilliant ad campaign. The slogan said “Do Something Great For Your Country. Leave.” On a gap year, you don’t have to know where you’re going to end up, or how you’re going to get there. You don’t need to be a master grocery shopper (hint: keep to the outer edges of the store). And you definitely shouldn’t have to be anybody’s bitch.

Your turn. Did you take a gap year? Do you wish you did? Do you have kids who are? Love it when you guys chime in.

Travel: Marble Canyon, British Columbia

By Laura Zera 18 Comments

We often hear that the journey is as important as the destination. That adage proved itself truer than ever last week while driving from Calgary, Alberta to Fairmont Hot Springs, British Columbia and we killed the ignition for a spell at Marble Canyon. From the road, it’s as inauspicious as a regular rest stop, but walk a few feet down the path and it soon becomes clear there’s more to experience than a pit toilet.

Part of Kootenay National Park, Marble Canyon once lay under a kilometer (that’s 0.6 of a mile) of glacial ice. Thousands of years of melting and erosion have carved a narrow channel between the dramatic rock walls, a pipeline for the turquoise water of Tokkum Creek to barrel through and meet the Vermillion River at the bottom.

Not too far away, a new fossil find has paleontologists excited, and rightfully so. After the initial excavation, they estimated that 22 percent of the observed species were new to science, while others had only previously been seen in China’s multi-million-year-old Lagerstätte (how’s that for a cool word?).

On my walk, tree skeletons served as reminders of forest fires past, while new growth, shrubs and wildflowers peppered the landscape, reassurance of Earth’s regenerative powers. Giant slabs of petrified wood lined the path, their layers perfect and even, and the Canadian Rockies loomed. I couldn’t help but feel very, very small.

Have you ever found an unexpected gem like this in your travels?

Travel: Leavenworth, Bavaria’s Cutesy American Cousin

By Laura Zera 15 Comments

When bored urban planning committees “seek to revitalize,” places like Leavenworth are born. What this means for the easily distracted is that all we have to do is drive two hours northeast of Seattle, and gesundheit, we’ve hit Bavaria-land, a place where beer and sausages reign supreme. It’s where even the banks, gas stations and fast food restaurants have to abide by the gingerbread-house building code. And where goats mow the grass (although they find the whole thing a bit much, too), and idiot tourists pet the goats (yes, that’s my hand in the photo; at least my fingers are tucked in).

Lamenting our historical lack of local road trips, I planned a two-night mid-week stay for the height of the hot in Leavenworth, when hiking, rafting and inner tubing are the activities du jour. In the week leading up to it, forest fires broke out in several surrounding areas, and a stretch of Highway 2 into town was closed. We took the alternate, equally easy, and beautiful route through Blewett Pass, and arrived just as the only storm front the area will probably see for the summer moved in.

Screw gingerbread house, how about gingerbread Academy Awards? — Screw gingerbread house, how about Academy Awards?

Unenthused by the rain, we didn’t hike, but the helpful woman in the tourist information office gave us a good map of the trail options, and knew enough about inclines and durations to help us pick what would have been an appropriate route for our criteria. Nor did we inner tube down the Wenatchee River; I was all ready to go had there not been thunder and lightning. The intel on tubing, however, is that some companies want you to drive 10 miles to Cashmere, then float to Leavenworth, at which point they’ll shuttle you back to Cashmere, but there are outfits who start by shuttling you upriver, so you float right into home base. We were going to go with Leavenworth Outdoor Center, who also seem to offer a longer float if you start before 2 pm than some of the other places.

We didn’t mind that our visit lost all structure as soon as the skies opened up; a sleep-in and slow breakfast are never a bad thing. In between rain showers, we walked the streets and supported the local economy by purchasing consumables (divine creations from Schocolat, and our new favorite soap from The Bubblery). If you’re a trinket collector, Leavenworth is loaded. It has a nutcracker shop, with the Nutcracker Museum upstairs, and between all the boutiques, you can easily find the words “man cave” on any object you desire: Mug? BBQ apron? Golf bag? Check, check, check. Vessel in which you put the blood of your best hunting buddy to hold sacred the time you shot your first squirrels together? I have no doubt it’s there on the shelves, too.

Leavenworth goat 1a — Which way to the Alps?

All in all, the town is novel and the setting scenic. It’s an accessible location for anyone coming from Seattle or B.C., and would make a fabulous spot for a family reunion or trip with the kids. (We heard it’s jam-packed on weekends, so were glad to be there mid-week. It also gets extremely busy for Oktoberfest, of course.) But for the same reasons I can’t stomach the Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas—or Vegas itself, to be honest—I found myself more drawn to the mountains around it than the town itself. In that sense, I guess, Leavenworth has something for everyone, whether made by man, or Mother Earth.

Have you ever been to a theme town? Or a place that was unique in its consistency of character? Please share!

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