Back in Casablanca which means it’s time to fly home. Not much happened since last time except that my camera finally broke, thanks to that Sahara sandstorm. At least it broke at the end of my trip.
Thanks to everyone who read along! Shukran and au revoir.
Despite a slightly rocky start, it was a great trip. Here are a few random final thoughts:
I visted a travel doctor before my Morocco trip, who in addition to the usual advice, offered this excellent suggestion. She said to prevent diarrhea and other GI symptoms while travelling to other countries, take a Pepto Bismol dose four (4) times per day: once before each meal and once at bedtime. (In medical-speak, that’s Pepto Bismol 2 tabs qAC/qHS.)
I didn’t employ this from the start, as my stomach tends to be pretty strong on trips. But a few days in when things started to get a little…loose…I gave her suggestion a shot and it worked like a charm.
Beware: both stool and tongue may turn black temporarily. But it’s worth it.
There are several products I find myself using each time I travel. The following are some of those items, without which my trips would be much more difficult, uncomfortable, or just impossible.
It’s not that they returned, rather I did. For the first time in seven months I wasn’t on call during a Derby Dolls game, so you know I could be found in LA. Roller coaster of a night, however. On the one hand, the San Diego Swarm won in an anticlimactic fashion by squeezing out three points in the final jam to break the tie. On the better hand, I was still able to get this photo taken with the Fight Crew’s Judy Gloom!
Several residents and I took the plunge and went skydiving today. Aboard a tiny Cessna airplane that only fit four, it took us about ten minutes to climb to 10000 feet. Not too strange except that one side of the plane was completely open to the outside. Just as I was getting used to that, it was time to strap in to my guide/instructor. I dutifully followed his instructions (“sit in my lap”) and was strapped very securely to my new butt-buddy’s front side.
Ida was up first. She and her tandem partner sat on the edge for a few seconds as I stared at them wondering what would happen next. Then they fell out, and I panicked (see video for confirmation). It was a very unsettling feeling seeing a friend fall out of the side of a plane. I tried to rush to the ledge in a strange effort to save her, but I was too paralyzed by terror. Immediately I was pushed us to the same spot, and all of a sudden I had my own set of problems to deal with … namely sitting on the edge of an airplane two miles high in the air. Actually, he was sitting on the plane; I was simply hanging off the edge, connected to him only by a few cloth straps.
And then we rolled out. Free fall was unlike any feeling I’ve ever experienced, and it was exhilarating. The video conveys it all, so enough talking and more watching:
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGk_WlKJteg
Motherfucker, I’m awesome!
I had the opportunity to visit Chicago recently, and while I was there I decided to check out start of the famed Route 66. For those who don’t know, Route 66 is a historic road that starts in Chicago and ends in Los Angeles. Over the years most of it has been replaced by more modern roads and highways, and most maps don’t even note its presence any more. There are, however, many maps and signs and websites devoted to enthusiasts who are in search of it, whether to drive it or visit the countless restaurants or quirky stores along it.
Apparently the start of Route 66 has moved a few times. As you can see below, on the corner of Adams Street at Michigan Avenue, there is a sign marking the beginning of Route 66. However, this was not the original start of the highway.
The start of Route 66 apparently was moved from its original location, which is at Jackson Blvd and Michigan Avenue, pictured below (note the Sears Tower in the distance on the right). There is nothing mentioning Route 66 here…how sad.
Check out The Historic Route 66 website, which taught me everything I know and provides more details on this topic.
Where to go, where to go? This year’s travels will take me to Indonesia — a group of 17,000+ islands in the South Pacific that ranks as the world’s fourth most populace country and includes islands with such names as Java, Sumatra, Papua, and Bali.
Indonesia is an archipelago, which simply means that it’s a group or chain of islands. Think of it as the United States if every state were an island. Don’t worry if you didn’t know what that word meant … I only learned that after I bought my ticket. See kids, traveling makes you smarter.
Time to do some pre-trip homework and read Eat, Pray, Love (apparently Love takes place in Bali). Stay tuned for travel details and adventures.
Travel time means time to buy a new travel toy. I plan on doing a lot of water-based activities while in Indonesia including snorkeling, diving, rafting, and swimming. Unfortunately all these wet encounters would ruin my walking shoes and be difficult with flip-flops.
So say hello to my newest footwear: the Vibram FiveFingers. The Vibram FiveFingers Sprint to be precise. These innovative shoes may be funky and unattractive, but they’re as close to being barefoot as possible. The company claims one can run, hike, and go in the water with them … and I’m going to confirm each one.
Watch out Indonesia… there’s a new sheriff with ugly shoes in town.
People frequently ask how I am able to travel with only one backpack, so I’ve put together this detailed overview on what, why, and how I pack.
Jeans and shirt
Clothing. A pair of jeans, shorts, and three shirts. Swimming trunks and pajamas too.
Shoes
I take a pair to wear on a daily basis (being black, they double as shoes to wear out at night), flip-flops for the beach, and my new ugly five-toed shoes.
Socks and underwear
Three pair of each. You don’t need to see them.
Toiletry and health-related accessories
Toiletry bag (including Pepto Bismol), a well-packed first-aid kit (including new for this trip, suturing equipment in case things go wrong), and suntan lotion and mosquito repellent.
Reading material
A Lonely Planet book (travel bible) and two leisure books: 1) Eat, Pray, Love, which is a terrible book, but since I don’t like to leave books unfinished, I’m stuck with it, and 2) Dante’s Inferno … to remind me of the hell that is Thornton I will return to back at work. Oh and the GQ provides entertaining articles as well as cologne samples that can be rubbed on your face if you want to go out at night. Practical and really classy.
Diving mask and snorkel
Since this delicate face only tolerates my own equipment.
Toilet paper
Never leave for another country without it, unless you (and your hand) want to risk it.
Accessories
Small backpack, hat, sunglasses, super absorbent towel, etc.
Fancy electronics
Digital camera, LED flashlight, power outlet converters.
Eye shades, ear plugs, and Ativan
Turn a 14-hour plane ride into a sleepy, forgettable blur.
And that’s it. Now shove all this …
… into a backpack and you are ready to voyage almost anywhere in the world.
Hello from Indonesia! My trip starts out on the island of Bali, in the city of Ubud. (As I learned yesterday, the correct way to pronounce it is “oo-bood” … and not “you-bud”.) I am staying in the very peaceful Ubud Bungalows pictured below. Mine is the bungalow on top.
These bungalows are on the main strip called Monkey Forest road, which, like the rest of the roads in Bali, is very narrow, twisty, and noisy and packed with cars and taxis and buses and motorbikes. They also drive on the left side of the road, so on my first venture outside I thought traffic was completely clear after looking to my left … only to step out and have a minibus nearly crush me from my right.
I started off my first morning in Ubud with white water rafting. The drive picked up me and several other people at 9am, and we met up with a much larger group. After being outfitted with our gear, we walked down approximately 1000 steps down a steep gorge to reach the river.
After about an hour of exciting class 3 rapids, we stopped for a few minutes. Here is my rafting group: an Irish guy from Australia, me, and a couple from San Francisco.
Because we were completely drenched in water by the waves over and over again, I didn’t take out my camera during the rafting itself, but luckily someone from the company took this action photo. I’m in front, with the mean point.
After returning home, I decided to explore the famed Monkey Forest, for which the main street is named. It is a medium-sized forest with approximately 500 monkeys … monkeys who are not nice. I bought a few bananas just before going in, and I put them down for a split second to put the cash back in my pants. The moment I lay them down, a little hairy hand swiped them away. I yelled out an expletive loudy and chased after him, but all the guides were shouting “Don’t chase monkey!” so I stopped. This is me after a fight with yet another monkey, one that climbed up my body to try and grab my banana (banana fruit, you perverts). I’m about to throw that banana at him.
At the end of the day, one monkey had stolen from me, one had attacked me, and another had humped my leg. These guys are aggressive and they gang up. I’m actually a little afraid of them now. But here is a nice monkey baby and mom just to show that a few of them have the potential to be cute.
Next post: Bali naming culture.
There seems to be a shortage of names in this place. My hotel owner is named Wayan, so was my greedy and unhelpful taxi driver, as was our rafting guide, medicine woman, and countless others people here. God forbid anybody gets named Sam or Jenny.
It turns out that there are only four names in Bali. They are Wayan (pronounced “why-Ann”), Made, Nyoman, and Ketut, and they mean “first”, “second”, “third”, and “fourth”, respectively, to indicate which order you were born in. So the first born child is named Wayan, and so forth. Number five gets named Wayan and the cycle starts again. Now I’m tempted to yell “Wayan” on the street and see how many people turn their head. Anyway, please call me Wayan from now on.
I was woken up this morning not by my alarm or a friendly wake up call, but a rooster. A good old “cock a doodle doo”ing rooster … at 5am. Who knew these things existed outside of childrens’ cartoons? All of which reminds me I’m living in a zoo out here. I live up the street from a monkey forest where monkeys wander (and attack) freely. Anywhere I eat, pee, or use the internet I see a new lizard hanging out next to me. And, I swear there is a bird in my bathroom, though I just can’t get him to show his head. Here is the a-hole that woke me up. If I ever get close enough to grab him by his neck, he’s going into a cage and straight to the butcher.
Today was Day of Food. In the morning I attended a great cooking class taught by a local chef with decades of cooking and teaching practice here in Ubud. The class was made up of approximately 15 travellers who have an interest in cooking. We first learned about the various local ingredients and then prepared a traditional Balinese meal. Here are some of the people at the preparation table.
We used this large mortar and pestle (Balinese food processor) to crush peanuts into a fresh-made peanut sauce, which was much better than anything I’ve had in any restaurant.
Here I am stir-frying our meal, and looking over to make sure she wasn’t doing a better job than I was.
Immediately afterwards, despite the great feast we just ate, a few Australians and I decided to seek out Warung Ibu Oka, the famed local food vendor that prepares an amazing roast suckling pig. They cook that pig for over five hours and serve it from only 11am — 3pm. After a little walk we found it, and luckily it was only 1pm. For only $5 we each got a plate of tender, flavored pork with “crackling” (roasted pig skin) with tons of spices on top and rice on the side … and a big bottle of Bintang (local) beer.
After stopping by my bungalow to change shirts, I then immediately set out in search of a highly-recommended restaurant. It was a long walk — over 2.5 miles one way! — but I decided to commit to it. After a grueling uphill walk for several hours, discouraged at times since there wasn’t another white person in sight, I finally found it …
… and it was closed. Two hours of hiking the humid heat, and it was closed. Since when is anything closed here? So I made the return walk — also 2.5 miles — tail between my legs, and came across another place people speak well of, Naughty Nuri’s. I went inside, partly to honor a friend from home and mostly to have one of these:
Four hours, five miles, and one stiff martini later, I arrived home and jumped straight in the pool under a full moon.
I was woken up this morning by the following events in succession, starting at 2am:
Rain
I’m not talking about a gentle shower, I’m talking torrential downpour with thunder and lighting. As many people know, I am afraid of thunderstorms, mostly because I hate being startled unexpectedly, least of all in the middle of the night. This storm was so loud I half expected the raindrops to break through this thatch roof and pour directly on me.
Rumble
Less than an hour after the rain eased up, I felt subtle movements in my bed. Subtle, but definitely present. The movements got much stronger in amplitude over a few seconds, and I realized this was actually an earthquake. Normally I don’t mind earthquakes, being from California and all, however, here on this tiny island, I was concerned the quake would bring my bungalow crashing down. Also who knows, maybe this richter 3.0 earthquake (or whatever it was), was actually a 9.0 out in the middle of the Pacific, and a tsunami was on its way soon to drown Bali. I identified where I kept my diving mask and snorkel (just in case), and tried to get back to sleep.
Rumble again
The time has come. Shortly after the quake I thought I felt the start of an aftershock, but I was feeling movements only … down there. I tried to walk it off, but things only got more painful and crampy and violent, and I realized I was bathroom-bound very soon. These things felt like contractions, people. I have been slacking on my Pepto Bismol regimen since I arrived, so maybe I should starting being more compliant.
Rooster
This thing needs to die. Enough said.
Anyway, later in the day I was at a bar with a TV showing this:
Looks like I was right … unfortunately. And pretty spot-on with my predictions too. Those live shots of the massive destruction occuring in Japan are actually very frightening, and I hope the waves don’t make it anywhere near my little island chain. So as of now now, the list of things that are threatening me in Indonesia are as follows:
I guess I should add “tsunami” now.
Greetings from the island of Flores. This tiny island is east of Bali and is quite under-developed. Their main street is very similar to a back alley in America.
This morning a few of us rented a boat for a day trip to Komodo Island, home of Komodo National Park, itself home to the famed komodo dragon. These ugly beasts might appear slow, slothy, and boring in photos, but in reality … they’re exactly the same. They don’t move or do anything exciting. But they do have viciously sharp talons and very powerful tails that can snap goats in half. Unfortunately we didn’t see any of that action, and I wasn’t even allowed to get next to him for a photo.
On the way back we had our boat stop at one of the tiny islands for beach and snorkel time. Islands like these are abundant here, and nearly all have untouched white sand and luscious green flora. They are also completely uninhabited. The one we stopped at, pictured below, would have taken us at most 15 minutes to walk around its perimeter.
After a good snorkel we made our way home in our boat, which I should mention may possibly be the slowest thing ever to move on water; I think ducks were swimming faster. Not a problem, however, since we all sprawled out and fell asleep with ease. As we docked, we were greeted by an army of very young, very short, and very naked local children … all of whom enthusiastically rushed our boat, climbed aboard, and tried to impress us by jumping into the water. Definitely the most amusing part of the day!
One of the little guys showing us his skillz.
That evening, we recovered from this tiring day with lots of beer and cards.
