I Could Not Figure It Out.......

I arrived home on 2/8.  Today is 2/26, so I have been home 18 days.  I think the pneumonia is licked.  I was discharged from the hospital in Chiang Rai 1/11.  Have felt good enough to ride my bicycle 3 times.  No more coughing.

However, another malady surfaced and manifested itself much quicker than the pneumonia.  Instantaneously, just when I felt I was getting better, my feet started itching uncontrollably on Sunday 2/23.  It was terrible.

I was watching parts of the over 6 hour rain delayed Daytona 500.  It was just 6 hours of babbling and showing clips of races - even last year's 500 race!!!  They made all kind of WAG's about who was a favorite for the race next Sunday in Phoenix.  It was unbelievable to me!!!!  They were talking about the second race of the season in Phoenix, AZ and  they had not finished the Daytona 500- or even the first 50 miles of the 500!!!!

Thank goodness some really smart engineers figured out how to design and build a DVR.   With one, I could skip all the garbage - and there was 6 hours of it  - because it was pouring rain in Daytona for 3 hours.

So I went back to thinking about that itching.  At first I thought it was because of my  socks, so I changed them.  The itching was worse with the fresh socks.  OK, I thought, I will take the socks off.  That was tried with no improvement.   I put on some leather moccasins  - no noticeable change.   Then I tried my cold weather slippers with the sheepskin lining.  They were much warmer than the pair of leather moccasins.

There was no racing and it looked like at least 2 more hours of rain in Daytona on weather.com, so since it was nice out, I thought I would go for a walk on the levee and see if that helped my itchy feet.  

I took the sheep skin slippers off then put on another pair of fresh socks.    Then I pulled out of the closet my travel  shoes that I wore while on walkabout.  (All I wore for 7 weeks was a pair of sandals or my travel shoes)

As soon as I put those travel shoes on, instantly my feet stopped itching.  I thought for a moment and I thought - yes,  I wore these shoes for 7 weeks almost every day recently, no wonder my feet feel better.  Then I thought about how LONG it has been since I had worn those shoes.  It was like.....15 days!!!

I sat in the lounge chair for 10 minutes and sure enough, the itching had stopped.

 

Laying in the lounge chair, I looked at my blog on the iPad and suddenly realized I was just laying in my lounge chair.   And have been for 15 days.

• Walkabout: A spontaneous journey through the wilderness of one's choosing in an effort to satisfy one's itchy feet, a need to be elsewhere, the craving for the open road, that space over the horizon...yes... something like that... you can't quite touch it so you have to go find it because it's you just know it's there.   Or maybe it just feels good to go walking around ...  

Within several hours the outline of the plan was complete.
 

Depart PDX at 6:00 AM tomorrow for PHX to watch the NASCAR race there on Sunday.   Layover in DEN for several hours, then arrive PHX at 3:45 PM.

Will stay 5 nights and check PHX out.  A rental car was over $400.00 since it was the race weekend.  Light rail should be a few bucks.   A public transportation walkabout in PHX!!!.

Frontier wanted $25.00 to take a single carry on bag larger than 18" X 14" X 8".  $20 if it was the first piece of checked luggage.  And the costs of baggage just went up from there.

I thought "I can fit everything I need for 5 days in PHX in a bag 18" X 14" X 8"." I did that in  Myanmar.    

Everything fits in one 18" X 14" X 8" bag.

Hasta la vista.

Home

I departed on 12/17.  Home on 2/6 .    22 degrees F.   Snow, wind.  Unusual weather in Portland.

A good walkabout. 

Never bored but often sick.  Could not taste or smell anything the last 5 weeks.  

Saw lots of native culture, took as few tours as possible (you MUST have a tour guide on The Plain of Jars because of all the UXO everywhere).......and made as few advance reservations as was necessary......but saw many times more than those that did take tours and made reservations.

Took a few risks, but never had a negative outcome.  There is always a certain amount of risk in foreign travel.......

Had many, many memorable moments.

Walked alone many times and in many places.....with hundreds or thousands of locals and not another westener in sight for hours on end.

Threats, intimidation, pressure - never.

Someone short changing me - never.

Best food - Chicken curry at the Bamboo Nest.

Best room view - Vang Vieng, Lao.

Best local market - Keng Tung, Myanmar.

Worst Room view - Vientiane, Lao.

Best lodging -  "The Bamboo Nest" in Chaing Rai, Thailand.

Most colorful arts and crafts - Thailand.

The Hospital - Chaing Rai, Thailand.

Friendliest people - a tie - Lao, Cambodia, Thailand.

Poorest country - Myanmar.

Best arts, crafts and souviners - Luang Prabang, Lao.

Most enjoyable people I met - Robin (the Brit at The Bamboo Nest in Chiang Rai that I met again in Louang Prabang), Andy and Rondi (the couple from Portland that I met in Chiang Rai and traveled to Louang Prabang with by long boat down the Mekong), Mr. Sarann (my personal tuktuk driver that took me all over Angkor, to the rural Cambodian fishing spot and to the Cambodian birthday party), Mr. Yang (my guide on The Plain of Jars, around Phonsavan and over to Ban Ban, Lao), Francois and Latitetia (The French couple that I seemed to run into everywhere), The "Boys" (who played traditional Lao music just for me and were so unbelievably hospitable and friendly in Phonsavan), Waew and her son Jiab (that cared for me when I had pneumonia in Chiang Rai and took me to the hospital 3 times), the Thai Nurses when I was hospitalized in Chiang Rai.........and the list could go on and on....enjoyed everyone I met.

Most relaxing - the 2 days by long boat down the Mekong from Ban Houayxay to Luang Prabang.

Most scared - a tie- 

     *  the "Oh Shit" van ride from Louang Prabang to Phonsavan.

     *  the midnight tuktuk ride from the airport in Siem Reap to my hotel through all the unlit streets with Mr. Sarann.

Most surprisingly enjoyable afternoon - "The Boys" in Phonsavan, Lao.

Best pizza - Vang Vieng, Lao.

Most cosmopolitan, western - Luang Prabang, Lao.

Worst alcohol - either the plain or the flavored rice wine anywhere in Myanmar.

The most inexpensive country - Thailand.

Worst roads - Myanmar

Hottest - Cambodia.

Coldest - Thailand, Myanmar, LAO.  It was cold......as low as 40 degrees many nights.

Fishing, Cambodia Style......

Mr. Sarann took me to the big morning market.  Fruits, vegies, fish, pork, chicken.  An interesting market...much like others where everyone in town is buying their food.  There are no "supermarkets" in the places I traveled, maybe with the exception of Thailand.

Fish and rice are the staples of Cambodian food.  

After an hour or so at the market, I asked Mr. Sarann to take me to the Cambodian Cultural Village, an major tourist trap in Siem Reap, where traditional Cambodian villages are recreated.  Interesting, but not more than recreations.  I was bored.

Mr. Sarann was yaking on his cell phone...then he turned and asked me something about going somewhere....I did not understand what he said, but instinctively said "sure, lets go."

just like that we were heading out of Siem Reap and in 20 minutes we were in rural Cambodia.    We drove nearly for an hour - maybe 20 miles outside town.  I took off my shoes, put on sandals, kicked back in the tuktuk and watched rural Cambodia pass.  We ended up in real country.  there was nothing but rice fields and terribly rutted roads.  

Eventually, we had to disconnect the tuktuk from the motorcycle and I rode on the back of the motorcycle for another mile or two.  We ended up at his mother in law's house in the rice fields.  It was rural Cambodia.

Again,he got on his cell phone and started yacking.  He said "We go."

Back on the back of the motorcycle and down a rural, farm road 1/2 mile from his mother in law's house we finally stopped.  the road was so rough i had to get off the back of the motorcycle every 100 yards or so, walk, get back on, etc.  eventually we got to this big hole in the middle of the rice field.  there were maybe 25 Cambodians at the hole.  Several families were dredging this little lake that was full of fish.

The road was unbelievably rough, rutted and riding in the back of the tuktuk was like riding an amusement park ride.  It shook me to the core of my inner being.  False teeth, if I had them, would have been on the floor of the tuktuk..

After the monsoon, all the fields dry up and fish end up in one of these small holes that have been dug.  They pump out the water and gather up the fish.

In the rural areas, you often see these traditional water buffalo carts.

Everyone had a job.  The little girls sorted the little fish.  The little boys helped pull the baskets of fish up form the depression or hole then wash all the mud off them.  The women were sorted the fish and emptied them from the baskets nto the tarp.  the women would also periodically move all the fish around the tarp so they would stay alive.  The men were down in the hole.  

I depart Siem Reap in 13 hours.  Then 27.5 hours of travel.  Home in about 42 long travel hours.

I am going to miss being on walkabout.  

It must be the water.......

Or else it is the culture...or maybe it is me....

BUT, some how, some way, I get drawn into these party events.....

I was up at 6 AM to watch the Super Bowl game.  After an hour of attempting to stream the game on the iPad in the hotel room, I gave up and headed to Pub Street in a tuktuk.

Watched the game, walked around the market then came back to the hotel in another tuktuk.

Watching the Super Bowl game on Pub Street in Siem Reap.

Met my driver, Mr. Sarann at 2 PM.  I went to the Siem Reap National Museum and spent several hours there, to avoid the midday heat and humidity.  Then we were off in the tuktuk to Angkor Wat to watch the sunset over the towers.  

Met a young Norweigian solo traveler, talked for 1/2 hour and shared taking pics of each other.

Earlier in the day, Mr Sarann mentioned inviting me to a birthday party for a 3 year old girl.  I said sure.......I always enjoy a party.......even a party for a 3 year old.  I thought it might be interesting.

Mr. Sarann took me back to my hotel to shower and put on long pants and then we were off to the party. 

Through dusty, potholed backroads.  It was dark......and we were in the hinterlands of Siem Reap.  There were few lights other than oncoming motorcycle headlights. I had no worries, I trusted Mr. Sarann with all I had in my possession.  I was confident that he could be trusted.   He has been a faithful driver so far, but I had not a clue to where we were or where we we headed.  I just sat back in the tuktuk and soaked it all in.  

Travel.  An addiction.

After a 20 minute ride through the outskirts of Siem Reap we finally arrived.  

It was a big party.  Maybe 300-400 people, about 50 tables with 6 or 8 Cambodians per table.  

Women in sequined dresses and nice shoes. This was an event.  Loud, booming music.  Balloons.  Several big tents.  Nothing like a birthday party for any 3 year old girl that I have ever been to....  

I was the only westerner there...out of 300-400 people.  

But there were many smiles and welcomes.  And stares......

The party was definitely on.  Did not seem like a party for a 3 year old girl......felt more like a mafia party disguised as a party for a 3 year old girl....

There were gracious welcomes from everyone......glasses were raised...and toast after toast after toast.  Glasses clinked, smiles exchanged. 

These were all young Cambodians.  Every 15 minutes more beer, ice and food was brought to every table.

In addition to being the ONLY westerner at the party, I was doubtlessly the oldest person there. My popularity was helped with bringing a 1/2 bottle of Jack Daniels.  That broke the ice very quickly and was gone in 15-20 minutes.   Most people were in their 20's, 30's or 40's.  No old farts like me.  

I was stared at often, but I have become accustomed to being stared at.  Everyone stared at the big, lone, westerner with the ponytail.........

Booming music, strobe lights and of course.....food.  There were 8 courses served to every table over several hours.  Seafood, pork, chicken, rice, vegetables, you name it...they served it.   

l left the party table and went to see where all the food was being prepared.  There were about 20 people in the "kitchen".

The largest woks I have ever seen.  36" in diameter....

My food bowl and my beer glass were constantly being filled....

Raising your glass and clinking glasses appears to be a cultural norm.  If I clinked my glass once, I did it......say.......100+ times with about 8 people each time during the 2 hours I was at the party.

It never ended.  Every 2 minutes, everyone at our table stood up, raised their glass and toasted each other.  As I was the novelty at the party, I was in constant demand to share a toast and a picture..  Everyone toasted me...even the cook (that was cooking everything in the woks) stopped me as I was walking around his kitchen and he offered up a toast!

My cheeks are sore from smiling and my arm is tired from raising it to toast.....

What a hoot!!  It was an unbelievable experience.  The host of the party was working the crowd and stopped and shook hands with me several times and to thank me for attending.  

Cambodian hospiltality at its finest. 

I had brought a blank envelope with me so that I could leave a gratuity at the end of the evening.  I was never expecting this lavish of a party.......for a 3 year old girl.  Mr. Sarann initially refused to let me pay for him but I was insistent.   He finally agreed to let me stuff an envelope with a couple of $20.00 bills and I insisted that he put only his name on the envelope.  As we left, we again shook hands with the young host and Mr. Sarann dropped the envelope in the box with the hundreds of other envelopes.  Just like a mafia party, I thought.

What a way to spend my next to the last night after 2 months of travel in SE Asia......

This why I travel....... 

Byron

Watched the game....

Another US Bombie victim.....both hands, one foot....... Lao was not the only place the US bombed and left countless UXOs laying around the countryside........

I bought a book about Pol Pot from this man.  Pol Pot murdered 25% of the Cambodian population flollowing the end of the war in Viet Nam. The human impact of the US bombing campaigns is so tragic.....it is hard to miss.

All of Siem Reap was sent to the countryside by Pol Pot to work on collectives.  All intellectuals and poeple of education and wealth were killed....over a million.....

Got to the bar on Pub Street about halftime......lots of Americans......not much rooting and hollering as the game was almost over by then.......had coffee, a bacon n egg sandwich and witnessed the one sided action......

Then off to the market...again....

Siem Reap is a nice place - safe, friendly and lots to see and do.  Thousand upon thousands of tourists.

Will leave SE Asia in 34 hours....

So Much to See, so much carved rock.

Sunrise at Angkor.

Before restoration - after restoration

My tuktuk driver, Mr. Sarann, patiently waiting for me at Bayon.

Some Of The Unusual ... and Less Memorable Things...

The "Fish Massage." You put your bare feet in a fish tank for 20 minutes and let the fish eat the dead skin off your feet.  $2.00.  Great for kids.  Often includes a free soda or beer.

Little BBQd snakes.  Small snakes, about a foot long, on a squewer.

Fried beetles, scorpions.  Yum.

The transvestive male singer/dancer and some rather obnoxious music.  The man had some moves.

The constant "Tuktuk, Mister" and Massage, Mister" offers.  Over and over and over.  Even after they just watched you decline the same offer from 4 others in the last 15 feet.  Have seen many T shirts that say "No Tuktuk....No Massage Today."

Sitting in a restaurant at 1:30 PM having lunch as I type this....and the music is - English - it sounds like Michael Jackson singing Merry Christmas.  It is February 1st and it is 85 degrees farenheight.  As I finish, "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" comes up next.  I am sure it is Michael Jackson singing....next up...Parumpumpum, Parumpumpum, pum.  Sleep in Heavenly Peace.  They played the entire album.  The obnoxious music ruined my lunch.

Up at 4:30, and off to Angkor in the tuktuk at 5 AM sharp to watch the sunrise.  Arrived 30 minutes early.  Went to get a coffee.  Again was greeted ("You buy me, mister") by the cute 8 year old girl, Dow, that spoke pretty good English and fanned me yesterday.  It was 6:00 AM, and she was out hawking refrigerator magnets and post cards.  She said she would leave her job "selling" and go to school at 7:00 AM.  She did not have any fans today, so she found one that another child was selling and returned and started fanning me.  I politely told her that it was 6 AM, 70 degrees, still dark, and I was not sweating yet. I did not pay her anything.  

I was approached by children touts as young as 4 years old.......about the same age as children in Oaxaca, MX at the Zocallo.....but they did not have the game down yet on how to grab the foreigner's dollar.

Images from Siem Reap and Angkor Wat

Buying an entrance ticket is like Disneyland.....

It was hot....so I paid this cute little 8 year old tout 1000 Real, or $0.25 to fan me. She spoke enough English to ask me for $1,000.00 to fan me.....  We both laughed...

The moat at Angkor is 250 yards wide and a mile long on each side.  Dug by hand.  Angkor is in the center.

The size of these monuments is unbelievable.  All cut from sandstone and intricately carved.

Off at 5:00 AM tomorrow to catch the sunrise at Bayon.

Many, many, many tourists here.