Category Archives: Asia

The Feeling Of Cold: May 4th – May 11th

A lot of the time, people ask me if I am homesick. Of course, I miss things about home, my family, friends and city, but there are some more abstract things that come to mind when asked if I miss things. Laying in a hot bath, South American food, and cold air rise to the top of that list. After the crazy heat of Rishikesh, I fled to the cold of the Himalayas. First, I had to finish up things in town.

Inhala, Exhala

Early morning Spanish/Yoga lesson combo in the other ashram

A friend from the three hundred hour course invited a few of us to attend her required teaching course. The three hundred hour course was made up of girls from Russia, who didn’t speak too much English and the most patient Chilean girl I have ever met. The group had a translator, so she spent the month hearing information in English, followed by a translation in Russian, all day for a month. As I said before, I spent a lot of time at the ashram hearing and attempting to speak Spanish. As there would be no translator for the class anyways, she opted to teach in Spanish. Up at 6am, I went to the class, fully prepared for my tired brain to fail me. A good flow class actually requires little instruction. The movements should go with your breath and a quick peek to the front can confirm yopu are in the right pose. As the class went on, I realized that regardless of how good my Spanish was, I don’t know the names of body parts, and most of yoga instruction refers to body movement. I also realized I forgot the word for breathe. Oh well, an hour later, I had completed my first yoga class in Spanish. We all said our goodbyes and then I made a visit to the place that helped encourage me to do my training in Rishikesh.

All You Need Is Transcendental Meditation

It’s like they knew I needed a featured image for the post

About fifty years ago, the Beatles lived in an ashram in Rishikesh, India to learn Transcendental Meditation with Maharishi. Since this occurrence, Transcendental Meditation and Rishikesh gained popularity. The ashram in which they lived still stands today, but almost as ruins. The ashram is a tourist attraction, costing about a American dollar for locals or eight dollars for foreigners. This ashram is more of a complex than an ashram though.

A very small fraction of the little domes

Currently run by the same people who run the Rajaji Tiger Reserve, the profits are used for upkeep. Upon entering the ashram, you go up a long winding walkway which end up upon the area of dome shaped meditation buildings. The bottom floor of each of these appear to be living quarters and a bathroom, with the upstairs being an open area with an opening facing the river. Some of these are filled with graffiti, a common occurrence here. Most of the ashram is covered in graffiti, outside of areas clearly marked “No Graffiti”. The domes are small and peacefull, the stairs had a minimalistic design, and some of them have held the test of time better than others.

Not a small place, by any means
Pictures from the complex’s former popularity fill these rooms

Past the meditation quarters, there is the post office and some other buildings before reaching a building containing a cafe, and some photo galleries. The galleries cover wildlife, Maharishi, The Beatles and Transcendental Meditation. A year or so ago, I had looked into Transcendental Meditation, even going so far as to sign up for a session in Cleveland. Upon hearing that you had to pay a fee before you could receive your mantra and certain things were not to be discussed, I opted out. In the future, I will probably attend one just to check it out, but I usually keep away from those kinds of scenarios, although a lot of my favorite celebrities are TM supporters. After this building, the complex gets expansive.

This artist must have been in town for a while, as his detailed paintings were all over the complex
These paintings are all huge. Here’s me next to one of the smallest ones

There are tons of buildings in the complex, many of them were housing quarters or kitchens or who knows what. I checked out most of these, as the graffiti was quite impressive. I will sprinkle some of my favorites throughout this post, but the yoga hall deserves a special mention, as it held some very large portraits of The Beatles and Maharishi, as well as some word art.

One of the multiple housing quarters from a distance
For scale, that doorway is almost as tall as me
Of course, the artist from before had to have their own dome

Next was the very large housing complexes. There were two of them, with many levels of rooms. I made a quick run through both but mostly the ground floor and roofs contained the only good art I found. Both roofs housed more of the meditation domes, but these ones had their externals beautifully decorated. Here is a cool view from the one whose ladder was still intact enough to climb (Sorry, Mom), enjoy.

Behind these buildings, overlooking the river, was Maharishi’s home. I didn’t get many pictures of this, but it was much more ornate than the other simple buildings of the complex, even having a marble looking porch. A small path from the home led to the eighty four caves used for meditation and yoga. I didn’t venture into these as it was dark, and they were lined with river rocks, which just looked like tiny skulls. This was a no graffiti zone, besides the main yoga hall where they all converged and this had some cool graffiti. Throughout the caves were also small areas dedicated to specific asanas. After these caves, I found the home The Beatles actually lived in. This was actually the least interesting part, as it was not graffiti’d but had been mostly stripped, so was just a small building.

Maharishi and The Beatles

An interesting look at the past, some beautiful grounds and a nice walk later and I headed back to get everything together in my room.

Back To The Backpack

I grabbed lunch with the remainder of the yoga group. There were probably five farewell lunch/dinners, as everyone left at different times. I left mine to get everything together and head to my bus. After being dropped off by the ever helpful Mukesh, the man at the desk informed me that my 4:00pm bus would not be there until 7:30pm and that I could sit there and wait. Doubtful. I left my bags and walked back to the ashram. A quick shower and some tea with Antonia seemed much more enjoyable than sitting in a hot building. When I returned, the office was filled with a group from the Spanish Yoga course housed near my school and a group of Israeli girls we had met in a restaurant.

When the bus arrived, we all got on. When I handed the man my ticket, he pulled out his phone and started yelling to someone. Never a good sign. My ticket said seat twenty eight, but he put me in twenty nine. Good enough for me. After a couple sat in twenty seven and twenty eight, he asked me to move behind twenty seven. I agreed before getting into said seat. The girl in seat twenty seven immediately put her seat all the way back, which let me find out the seat was broken. Not only was the fully reclined seat almost touching me, but the left side was broken, so it was so low my leg didn’t fit. When I made mentioned, she replied, “Well, I am going to have to sleep.”…and everyone thinks Canadians are so nice. After everyone got on the bus, half of the seats were open, meaning we would be picking up others, but twenty nine was still open and I paid the same price as everyone else, so I returned. Other people took the broken seats.

The bus was uncomfortable and the furthest back I could put my seat without physically crushing the guy behind me was not comfortable enough to sleep. I dozed in and out over the course of the thirteen hour ride. Entering the mountainous area of Dharamshala, the views were incredible and the roads were horrifying. Each lane was about one and a half cars wide, with the bus whipping around the corners. Every curve, you could feel the bus teeter on its center of gravity. I wish I was asleep to avoid this knowledge. I arrived and got my stuff. I contacted Ana, who had been my city guide in Rishikesh, and asked if I should walk or taxi to the hostel. She told me it was a thirty minute walk, but it was straight uphill, so I opted for the taxi.

A Hunger For Knowledge

The hostel

I actually stayed in Dharamkot, which is a bit higher up than Dharamshala, McLeodanj (where the Dalai Lama lives) and Bhagsu (where everyone goes for yoga), so it gave me a beautiful view. It was pretty awesome to do yoga in the fresh, mountain area overlooking the cities. My first day, I did a walk through each of the cities, which are about twenty minutes from each other. Bhagsu is similar to Rishikesh, mostly yoga and cafes and shops. McLeodanj is more of the busy, tourist streets you expect in main Indian cities. Dharamshala was the more commercialized area. Over trails and through rocks, I had to try the local dessert, Bhagsu cake. I also picked up some Thai fisherman pants, as I never got a chance to buy any in Thailand, and a yoga mat with accompanying bag so I could continue practicing.

The mountain views are always beautiful

The hostel I stayed in was brand new and also functioned as a coworking space, so it was perfect to get some coding practice in and write that big long post about my month of yoga. I had the whole dorm to myself for the first three nights, which was awesome. I slept with a comforter and was still uncomfortably cold, a feeling I had forgotten. I still opted to wear tanktops and shorts for the first two days, as I truly missed the feeling of being cold.

Apparently how you know there’s an area of Israelis

As I have mentioned in other blogs, I am constantly mistaken as Israeli, Spanish, Greek and, on rare occasion, Italian. Due to this, I have learned to say “I don’t speak Hebrew” in Hebrew, thanks to the frequency with which people come up to me in full blown Hebrew conversation. Dharamkot is literally brimming with Israelis. My aesthetic isn’t helped by the fact that my travel footwear of choice is a pair of Tevas, which seems to be the calling card of an Israeli traveler. I fall short on just the sheer amount they all smoke, but otherwise, I fit right in.

The very basic starting design
My patience for painting is limited
Little Tikes My First Mandala

he second day, I felt like learning something new, as yoga had been the only thing I really had time for in Rishikesh. I roamed around Bhagsu looking at different things. Music lessons, Reiki, Sound Healing, Hindi, nope, nope, nope. Although, keep an eye out for me learning harmonica in the future, just not for the prices they wanted. I finally decided on Mandala drawing, cool local art that you will see everywhere in India. I discussed prices and content and the man was a bit vague. Anyone who knows my family knows that my father and middle sister have a god given talent for art, and all that was left for me was math and science. I have always been able to memorize lines and angles to replicate art, but never outright create, so time to change that. I showed up the next day and he told me the four dollars per hour. Starting from a blank page, we went through drawing the design in pencil, how and why we made each design and what they symbolized. After the first two hours, I had a fully outlined design. Then he taught me about painting the design, and why certain colors were chosen for certain places. Painting takes forever, and I am not a patient man. As I colored in each intricate part, all I could think was how long this was taking and how much it was costing me. A friend who had also done the class told me it took her one and a half hours. Halfway through painting, I was at three hours. For the duration of the painting portion, I was sitting alone painting because there wasn’t much to tell me, so I was paying for someone to sit next to me. Oh well, still less than it would have been in America. I took my finish design and went home to relax. My legs were dead from sitting cross legged for four hours.

A Sam with food is a happy Sam

The first two nights, I spent relaxing, writing the blog and checking out the local cafes to hang out with dogs and drink chai. The third day, I headed into McLeodanj to register for a teaching with the Dalai Lama that would be happening while I was in town. I was actually supposd to go to Agra the night before, but I figured seeing the Dalai Lama was a better experience than seeing the Taj Mahal, so I decided to stay. Later that night, Ana and I took a cooking class, where I took the reins on what we would be cooking. I chose my three favorite dishes since I have been here: Malai Kofta, Dal Makhani and Bhagsu cake. Malai Kofta is a creamy, lighter sauce covering kofta, which is grated potato, carrot and paneer fried into cigar shapes. Dal Makhani is a similar sauce but not as creamy, which is filled with dal, which is black beans and lentils. Bhagsu cake is just butter. It’s actually a base of crushed cookies mixed with butter, a layer of condensed milk (MilkMaid) mixed with butter, and melted dark chocolate…mixed with butter. We were able to make all three things in under an hour and then eat ourselves into a state that one should not walk up a mountain to get home in. Add one more qualification for World Chef Sam Massari.

I Just Need Some Fresh Air

I am really going to miss random dogs guiding me on hikes

Following this, we hit some cafes to hang out and work on things. I say some cafes, because power outages are so common in India that every time we would get settled in one, they would lose power and we would hop to the next one that had internet. Due to this hopping around, and probably vegetarian food being the devil, I got a bit of food poisoning. This is also a common occurrence in India, no one even bats an eye when you tell them. I woke up and my stomach disagreed with the day’s plan of hiking, but I am the boss and my body listens, or it stops getting ice cream, so the hike continued.

Not my idea of a big waterfall

It was Ana’s last full day, so she opted to go to the big, local waterfall over the more popular Triund hike to the Himalayas. The hike was through a trail that was mostly rocks and was very up and down. After over an hour of hiking, we reached a waterfall that I wouldn’t call big, even by Cleveland standards. The water was directly from the Himalayas, so it was crystal clear and ice cold, which was refreshing. A local dog guided us back and we decided to do the Triund hike even though it was about 1pm. Google stated it was only a two hour hike. When we got to the head of the trail, a man told us we had to come tomorrow, that he was with the police and that the hike takes three to four hours each way. Oh, well.

I woke up the next day sick again, but this time and a very loud snoring roommate. He was snoring when I fell asleep, and snoring when I woke up six hours later. If you snore this loud, probably don’t stay in hostels. If nothing else though, it was a good motivator to get up and go hike.

I did some research and everything said the hike took three to four hours. With my background, researching hikes while travel is always a bit useless, as you have no idea what someone’s physical ability is when they tell you how long a hike took them, even if they state they are “an experience trekker”. Ana agreed to wake up at 8am and attempt the hike, agreeing to go back on her own if we were not close after two hours.

Goats don’t even hike up mountains as well as me

The trail was at an incline the entire time, wrapping around the mountains. It was actually a pleasant trail for the first three kilometers, which took under an hour. The remaining two kilometers were a bit more treacherous, but I told Ana the best secret Spartans taught me. You’re going to be tired and sore either way, if you take a break, you get to experience that several times. If you push through, you just have to be tired and sore one time, and somewhere that you can actually relax. We came up over the ridge in under an hour and a half to a beautiful view of the Himalayas.

Which one is the better view?

After the hike, laying in the cool, mountain air was the most peaceful thing I could think of. Alone, besides some campers and the shop owners. I grabbed some Oreos to snack on while enjoying the view, because duh. The other side of the ridge gave a view of what looked like the entirety of India. It is standard to enjoy some instant noodles at the top of the hike, so we made sure to do that before heading down. We spent two hours at the top, so it was definitely worth the hike. The way down took about as long as the way up, as the rocks made it difficult to head down quickly.

Ana left, so I helped carry her stuff to the bus station. Since I was in town anyways, I checked some shops for a radio, because I had been told that I would need one to listen to translations at the Dalai Lama. The first shop I entered offered me one for thirty American dollars. I left out loud. I wouldn’t have paid thirty dollars for a radio when radios were useful. I shopped around a bit and ended up finding one for six dollars. Two other friends would be in town for the teaching, so I told them they could use my headphone splitters and share my radio. After this, I hid in a cafe and drank Chai and wrote code like the good little travel nerd I am.

Just hanging out in the Himalayas, no big deal

The Main Attraction

I returned home to find I had another roommate. Snoring roommate was awake when I got home, but asleep by the time I got out of the shower. Today, his snoring was so loud that I couldn’t hear the Netflix show I was watching. I assumed new roommate would have something to say, but fell asleep immediately. I waited about an hour, in hopes that the snoring would reduce or stop, but it didn’t, so I had to get up and shake the guy to get him to stop. It worked. After about fifteen minutes, the snoring continued, but this time, new roommate was also snoring. The absolute worst. I had had zero loud snoring roommates this whole trip, and now I had two, one being the worst I had ever heard. As if someone checked the stats and saw that life forgot to give me snoring roommates and needed to even things out. I practiced some meditaton techniques and fell asleep. I woke up to even more loud snoring. Full of rage, I looked up to see it was not loud snoring roommate, it was new roommate. Just the worst, I grabbed all of my stuff and headed off to see the Dalai Lama.

No cameras allowed, but here’s my pass

There were a couple thousand people in attendance for the teaching, which was requested by Russian monks. Due to this, the Dalai Lama spoke in Tibetan, and then it was translated to Russian before being translated to other languages. I should have spent more time learning Russian. Using a radio was a brutal experience, between feedback and the signal cutting in and out, I remembered why we don’t use radios anymore. Not to mention that he would speak, then it would be translated, then translated again, so there were about five minute windows between when you would receive information in the language you actually understood. Regardless, it was cool to have seen the Dalai Lama. His voice was so calm and steady that it was almost like guided meditation. He only spoke for the first hour and a half of the scheduled four hours, so we left shortly after the next Lama began speaking.

From Peace To Chaos

I hung out around the city and got things together. The hostel asked me to do a small Instagram commercial for them, which I agreed to, even though I look a bit homeless as a mountain yogi. After that, I grabbed my things and headed to another bus, this time from Dharamshala to Delhi. This bus was significantly nicer. Usually, transportation in Asia states it will have power outlets and wifi, but they never do. This one wasn’t lying. The seats were also semi sleepers, meaning the legs reclined up as well. I had no neighbor, so I was able to spread out and get comfortable.

Some people have seen from my snapchat, but I sleep four to six hours a night, with three to four of those hours being deep sleep. On transportation, I can sleep for an hour at most. On this bus, I slept for eight hours of the twelve hour ride. It was amazing. I read for a bit and a listened to a podcast before falling asleep. A bit more reading after waking up and I was there. It was as great as I always suspected.

Upon entering Delhi, I expected to get blasted by a tuk tuk driver. Luckily, I was using Google Maps to make sure he was going the right way and was able to say something when he headed the wrong direction. We established that he was confused about where I was going. He took me to the right place and then tried to get me to pay him more because he drove the wrong way. We both laughed and I left.

The hostel stated it was in an upscale cafe district of Delhi, but I never found that area. The hostel was definitely geared towards Indian locals, which is impossible to tell from the HostelWorld posting, but I just needed to sleep there before my flight. I had no interest in doing any tourist things in Delhi, as it was over one hundred degrees and I am a bit over tourist things. It’s unfortunate that this is my final full day in Asia and I am in a hot, big city, but oh well.

I arrived five hours before the hostel check in, so I put my bags down and did some yoga on the rooftop before doing some yoga and eating some breakfast. After this, I roamed around to find an ATM. ATMs in India seem to be pretty hit or miss, so it usually takes about three before finding a working one. It was 10am and already too hot to be walking around.

Same Person, Different Timezone

I went back to figure out my taxi situation and see if there was a movie theater close. I agreed to wait to see Endgame until I got home to see it with my dad, so I haven’t seen one recently since India doesn’t play as many English movies as Thailand and Vietnam did. I found a fancy nearby mall playing the new Detective Pikachu movie, so I decided to venture there and get a ticket. The movie wasn’t for seven hours but most things in India require an Indian phone number to book, so I decided to do it in person. Upon arriving at the mall, I found it was way fancier than I expected.

The contrast is harsh between this mall and the streets outside
A few blocks from the mall looks a bit different

By this, I mean it was the fanciest mall I have ever seen. This is a harsh contrast to the fact that just outside on all sides are standard Indian streets. Random street stalls, garbage and stray dogs included. The mall was exclusively stores like Rolex and high tier fashion stores. I figured I could grab a ticket and sit in an air conditioned cafe for the next six hours, but the place was too fancy to just have a cafe and all of the surrounding places were open air restaurants. My plans were hosed.

I walked around for a bit before finding a small restaurant for lunch. I grabbed some chicken chowmein, which I was mad about paying too much for. When it came out, it was the size of my head and delicious, so I took back my anger. After the food, I sat around for a bit before venturing around to see if I could find a cafe. No luck, I headed into the mall to check out the restaurant that covered the whole first floor. It was a bit more open than I cared for but I figured I could just sit there and read. I got the menu and the regular cup of coffee was five dollars, ten times what a cup of coffee costs anywhere in India. I walked downstairs and found a giant food hall that had every type of cuisine imaginable, sweets and groceries. I sat down, ordered a scoop of ice cream(which was five times the price of ice cream anywhere else) and read for a bit before getting bored of how crowded the place was.

Again, I ventured out and found a small bakery. No wifi, no AC, but they were charging prices like they were still in the upscale mall. I grabbed a donut and wrote the majority of this post (oh, meta), before taking a walk around the park just north of the mall. The park didn’t have anywhere shaded to hide so I found another small restaurant with a fan and read a book while I waited for my movie time.

I entered the fancy movie theater and chuckled at the fact that my movie ticket was four dollars and a regular drink and popcorn was almost ten. Oh well, I grabbed some and headed for my movie. I have seen hundreds of movies over the years, so I have a pretty good grasp on how many trailers a place will play based on how nice the theater is and where it is. India threw me for a loop, they didn’t even let anyone in before the start time. Then they played about twenty minutes of trailers, standard for a big movie theater. Similar to Thailand, prior to the movie, everyone stood for the national anthem. At the start of the movie, a message came across stating that they was a point planned when it seemed best for an intermission. An intermission…in a movie that was less than two hours. I thought maybe they would plan it for the end of a scene but they must have just picked the very center part of the film. The movie stopped while a character was in the middle of a word. The lights came on and everyone rushed out for more snacks, even though you could order snacks inside the theater and it was only two hours. Twenty minutes later, the movie begun. If you’re keeping track, that’s forty minutes of non movie time for a movie that is less than two hours. Good movie, time to grab a tuk tuk home.

Following the movie, I contemplated heading to a night market, but decided to just go home and make sure everything was in order before leaving Asia for Europe in the morning. No tuk tuks outside of the theater, I realized it was my last night in Asia. My favorite thing to do is walk around cities at night, so I decided to walk home. Delhi is much cooler at night anyways, so I enjoyed my walk home. I got everything together and went to sleep in my bed that the air conditioning barely touched. I woke up hours before I needed to so I did some more yoga on the roof.

The city views in India don’t really hold a candle to the mountain views

It feels good to only write a post covering a week again, so this is the end. Expect weekly posts again with me making my way through Europe over the next month before hitting New York for the AVP NYC Open!

My Soul On Fire: Yoga, Vegetarianism, Meditation in India

The last travel post left off with me arriving at Akshi Yogashala in Rishikesh, India after some treacherous travel days. This post was postponed due to a weekly update off my life in the ashram not being very interesting, so I figured a big post covering the whole thing would be more worthwhile. Unfortunatly, that means this post will likely be four times as long as a usual one, and due to the fact that I wasn’t with my phone much, it will have significantly less pictures. That just means I will have to keep your interest with information.

Posted up with my favorite view

To start, “My Soul On Fire” is the name of two of my favorite episodes of Scrubs from its final season (the best show in existence, if you didn’t know) and ever since hearing the title, I have been obsessed with this phrase. Throughout this trip, I have had this constant feeling of my soul being on fire. Travel more, read more, learn more languages, write more code, make more friends, more more more. I was excited to finally write a post titled “My Soul On Fire” and saw yoga, meditation, and pranayama as the perfect chance to do so. My original thinking was that maybe all of this stuff would set my soul ablaze, and I could aptly name it, but after a month of slowing down, I realized that my soul has been on fire for a while now.

Akshi Yogashala ended up being the perfect choice for me. Rishikesh is brimming with yoga schools and I just wanted one that was Yoga Alliance certified, and they all are. My engineer skills came in handy when going through and cross referencing all of the reviews, number of reviews and types of yoga/classes taught at each. I got it from over two hundred down to five and then class starting time and tuition cost ended up putting me at Akshi. It was away from the busy streets of Laxman Jhula, had a nice courtyard right when you walked in and due to me being the only guy, got me a private room. So now for what I did there.

The view from outside the yoga hall

Just to keep this post a little more organized, I am going to break down each of the areas that I was taught then cover some things about Rishikesh and India and then do my usual story telling style. Without further ado, let’s begin.

The Only Routine With Me Is No Routine At All

I was never shy about saying that I was scared about spending a month in the ashram. It is likely quite obvious that I am a busybody and am always doing a million things at once. The daily schedule for the ashram was as follows:
05:30am – Tea
06:00am – Hatha Yoga
07:45am – Pranayama
09:00am – Breakfast
10:30am – Anatomy/Philosophy/Teaching Methodology
11:45am – Mantras/Adjustments and Alignment
01:00pm – Lunch
02:00pm – Break
03:00pm – Anatomy/Philosophy/Ayurveda
04:15pm – Ashtanga Yoga
06:15pm – Relaxation/Meditation
07:30pm – Dinner

Everyday. For four weeks. On Sundays, our day ended after lunch and Wednesdays, we had off entirely besides a planned excursion (I will cover these), but otherwise this was my life for a month. Needless to say, this was a significant change of pace for me. After the first week, I stopped going down for morning tea and opted to use that time to listen to music in my room. I am not going to give you a lesson on each of these things, but here’s a rundown of what each generally is and what we did in them from day to day.

Forget What You Know

This entire post really needs to be preempted with the fact that I signed up for this certification for the same reason I sign up for anything, I wanted the information for myself. If I can use the information to help someone else, perfect, but otherwise, I saw the potential for yoga to help me increase flexibility and reduce to some common injury areas for me. Also, doing things slowly, taking time to meditate and generally just focus on being calm are outside of my usual comfort zone, so I wanted to see if I could do it. I was pretty certain daily meditation or being a vegetarian would kill me, and I was almost right, but we will get to that later.

Spiritual is not a way that I would ever describe myself, and I tend to think that a lot of that stuff is just ignorance of facts but the more I have learned about things I had originally written off, I have found that it is just different words for the same thing. The amount of things that the Western world considers spiritual voodoo, is actually backed by science, but they just aren’t using the medical terms for it. A lot of the stuff I learned, works and is based on actual science that we also learned. Some of it is a bit more out there, and likely won’t make it into my normal routine.

Namaste all day

For the entire month, I made an agreement with myself that I would go into everything wholeheartedly as if it were something I believed in my whole life and after the month I would pick and choose which I would continue. I recommend this approach, it let me learn and enjoy a lot that I would have likely blown off had I not been so open minded.

Handy Notes

Here’s some quick terms that I am going to get out of the way so that I don’t have to repeat a million times and you don’t have to be confused when I mention them. Shoot me a message or an email if there’s a word I use in this post that doesn’t get covered.

Prana – Sanskrit for a unit of universal energy. Breathing brings this in and out of our bodies.

Asana – Sanskrit for pose. Techniquely means stable and comfortable, so even if you are in the correct pose, you are not in the asana unless you are holding it comfortably and stable.

External Yoga

Hatha Yoga is one of the six main paths of yoga. It is known as external yoga, because it covers the physical portion of what yoga pertains to, with Raja Yoga covering the internal. Hatha is the slow stretching yoga, usually paired with Vinyasa to create the fitness style yoga that is so popular in the Western world, but not here. Every day at 6am, we would slowly stretch out our bodies. A slow, monotonous daily routine that my brain took weeks to cope with without feeling the need to fall asleep once we hit the laying poses. Different sanskrit names and asana sequences filled the normal Hatha routine compared to our more standard Ashtanga practice. Hatha could change day to day depending on what part of us the teacher felt like we should be stretching that day. Hatha is likely the style I will teach anyone who wants me to introduce them to yoga, as it is less intense than Ashtanga and can be customized to each person or for specific goals. This class gave me a much greater understanding of the role each muscle and tendon plays in sitting, stretching and laying down.

The Expansion of Energy

In Sanskrit, Prana means energy and Ayama means expansion, so pranayama is the expansion of energy. Mostly, this was different breathing techniques. We learned a new one every day for the first few days and we would do a few sets of each breathing technique before adding a new one. By the end, each day consisted of doing an increased number of repetitions of five sets of different pranayamas. Each pranayama is described as helping different things, as well as being advised against for people with different ailments, from anxiety to depression to high blood pressure. Some increased the flow of energy, some slowed the heart rate, others increased focus. Alongside their desired effects, learning these techniques also taught us how to do different types of breathing. Abdominal, thoracic, ujjayi (throat) and yogic (all three at once) were all taught over the course of the class.

Alongside the different breathing types, we also learned to apply locks. These are said to keep energy from leaking out. There is a throat lock, an abdominal lock and the pelvic lock. Certain pranayamas called for different combinations of locks in their more advanced forms. The abdominal locks were actually a very common bodybuilding trick in the Frank Zane era for showing off abdominal control, which was an interesting skill to be taught and already know from the past. All of these further just increased attention to and control of the breath.

This class also included the shat kriyas, or body cleansings. Of the different ones, we had to practice three of them. The three we learned included the neti pot, rubber neti, and a specific dhauti. The neti pot, you have likely seen for cleaning your sinuses. Lean forward, pour in one nostril and watch water come out the other nostril, easy. The rubber neti required you to put one end of a long piece of rubber up your nostril and put it in until it entered your throat, at which point you pulled it out of your mouth. This was a big point of tension for a lot of people, but was no worse than anything in a Spartan, so I did it like it was an every day occurence. The final dhauti required you to drink three cups of warm salt water and then to vomit all of the water out, cleaning your stomach and esophagus. As I mentioned with one of the posts about food poisoning, I taught myself to puke on command year ago, so this was super easy for me, but not such a pleasant experience for everyone else. Overall, a cool class with an awesome teacher covering strict control of your body.

The rubber neti shat kriya

I Am A Soul, I Have A Body

The anatomy classes were things I had already learned during school and my personal trainer certification. These focused mainly on how breathing worked in the body and the functions of the spine. Learning each section of the spine and the muscles/tendons controlling these areas helped us to learn why certain asanas required certain muscles to be engaged or why certain adjustments should be made. Important for me, it helped with correcting some lower back issues caused my tightness from weightlifting and sitting at a desk. Other portions of the class were dedicated to showing the relation between yogic teachings and actual medical realities. For example, yogic teachings state that breathing brings prana into the body, so essentially oxygen, and the prana moves through seventy two thousand nadis to carry the energy throughout the body, which correlates to the blood vessels where the oxygen is carried through. How correct it is, I didn’t bother to check, but it was close enough that I never bothered fact checking.

This class was a bit slow for me as I knew it all, and being one of the only native English speakers, essentially functioned as a class for me to translate Indian English to something the other classmates could understand. It’s one thing to be fluent in a language, but to be able to understand technical terms is another thing entirely, compounded by the fact that those terms are being said by another non native English speaker. Overall, a good class to keep my scientific brain from writing off the whole experience as witchcraft and conspiracy theories.

Why Though?

The Philosophy class covered all of the things taught in the yogic teachings, from the definitions of all of these sanskrit words, to how energy functioned in the body, to the different types of yoga. Some of the main things were the main principles of yoga, such as the rules and regulations, as well as the different types of yoga and their uses. A ton of information here that helped keep things clear in the other classes.

Those Who Can’t Do, Teach

For three days, we had a teaching methodology class. This mainly covered things like how to structure a class, how to approach different situations, how and when to speak. A lot of this information we learned by experiencing our two yoga teachers lead us through sequeneces every day, but this covered a lot more of the planning and situations that will arise. A good course to have before our required teaching.

One Om Together

The course I was least excited for, mantras, ended up being one of my favorites. The course teacher was the wife of the director of the school and she was originally from Russia. She was awesome and was very clear about the fact that although all of the mantras mention different gods and Hindi things, that it was not inherently religious. We discussed different versions of mantra chanting and had to memorize about ten mantras. After learning them, we heard them everywhere, as they are usually sung over a melody and played like normal music anywhere else. The most simple mantra was just “Om” (Aum) which is the universal sound. It technically means god, but it is more symbolic of universal energy. This chant begins and ends almost every other mantra. Once you got the hang of it, it came more from your chest than from your vocal cords, and frequently, after about a dozen chants, you were told to focus on the feeling that was created from the chant. Try it, it makes focusing so easy.

The other mantras we learned were all meant for different things. Many were to receive help clearing negative energy or the create a bond with a teacher. Ashtanga yoga has a set opening and closing mantra. There is also a mantra that was done before any time we ate. My personal favorite was one to Ganesha (maybe you’ve heard me mention him before), that is said to help remove obstacles. Overall, a great class but we only had it for the first two weeks.

Good, But Could Be Better

Adjustments and Alignments were a source of dread for me when they started. Bulky muscles are not something that seemed to be common in the yoga community of Rishikesh, so mine were a common point of criticism for the classes. They held me back from certain things, as my muscles were able to counter a lot of the adjustments done, especially since the girls in the course were about half of my size and I can only relax my muscles so much. Add on to this that I work on computers and my hips and hamstrings are even tighter from that, and my flexibility is shot. My flexibility is quite high for someone my size thanks to volleyball, but the leg muscle from volleyball decreases my flexibility in certain areas. Oh well, many painful classes later, some of those issues have been reduced.

Showing off my newfound hip flexibility

The class essentially ran us through some common poses and what you can do to help adjust a student to the correct version of the pose, or variations you can give them to strengthen their body for the correct pose. It also covered some great things to do to open up your hips, hamstrings, shoulders and chest, all of which I plan to add to my normal routine so maybe one day I can actually be flexible.

Just Add Turmeric

Ayurveda is basically Indian Life Science. It covers the idea that each person is made up of some variation of the three doshas and each person’s personality and health is diffferent based on this combination. It was kind of cool to learn about, as my main dosha, Pitta, explains my body type, eating habits and generally necessity for cold and sweets. It covers different foods for people to each depending on the weather, eating and sleeping tips and some other things. Most of it was interesting, and if nothing else just promoted a healthier lifestyle. Some of the things were counter to what I have learned and personally experienced with nutrition, but like everything else, I will take the useful parts and discard the things I find less useful. This was another three day course, but there are many course offerings on just Ayurveda, so maybe one day I will learn more.

The Eight Limbs of Yoga

Ashtanga Yoga means the eight limbs of yoga. This form of yoga covers internal and external yoga. Unlike Hatha Yoga, this form is unchanging. Their are six different series, with each needing to be mastered before you can move onto the next. We learned the first series, which we were told takes about five years of daily practice to master. There is a set sequence of poses (which takes about an hour and a half) and specific moves for each inhale and exhale. This course was done by tradition, so we did the class with doors and windows closed, no fan, and no water, even though it was over one hundred degrees. They believe the sweat is purifying, so maybe I overpurified.

Personally, this was my favorite. I will cover the teachers later, but our teacher had been practicing daily for three years, and he was a great teacher. He brought a strict following of tradition and his voice was powerful. This was an hour and a half of constant poses, which is an insane amount of work. While it didn’t satisfy my body’s necessity for powerful work, it did leave me feeling like I did something. Unfortunately, due to lack of exhausting me, a lot of times it had me ready for a more power related workout following.

This is likely the type of yoga I will (and have been) continue practicing daily to keep up with practicing. It is a bit harder to teach, as it requires a bit more dedication and teaching the sequence took us about ten days of daily class. Not really something you can teach a beginner, and much less likely to appeal to someone who would be a more casual yoga practictioner.

Relax Your Forehead

Here is where the issue with my body being trained for powerful work after intensive cardio or stretching comes in. Following Ashtanga, we had relaxation or meditation. The same teacher as pranayama, his voice was one of the most soothing things I have ever encountered. Regardless, my body is always ready to work, and when it’s primed to go, relaxing is not an option. Sometimes I could full on meditate for about fifty minutes before becoming restless, but if I was already hyped up from Ashtanga, I would spend the entire hour restless.

My ability to enter a meditative state is pretty good, but staying in one is pretty weak. This is pretty common for me, as I don’t tend to rest. A normal person gets seven to nine hours of sleep, and during that gets one to two hours of deep sleep. As a reference, I get four to six hours of sleep a night, and get three to four hours a deeps sleep during that. I am all about efficiency, and that stands true with resting as well. When I shut it down, I shut it all the way down, but not for long. This is something I will work on, but I think going back to harder exercises will remove some of my restless, so I will play it by ear.

The course covered different meditation techniques, including things like staring into the flame of a candle, and different relaxation techniques, like relaxation. A really interesting class and something I would like more experiencing leading, and I think it was helpful to experience.

The Cast

In past posts, I only mentioned someone outside of Ryan and myself if their introduction is pertinent to a particular story. With this situation, I think at least a short introduction is necessary just to cover the different personality types. I was the only guy in the course, which growing up with all sisters prepared me for. There were seven other students in the two hundred hour course with me and one girl finishing up her final week from the previous course. There were also five other girls completing their three hundred hour course, as well as a translator for them as most of them were Russian and spoke little English. There were five teachers and some other people working at the ashram.

My classmates consisted of girls from Russia (the one completing her final week), two from Taiwan, one from Germany, one from Ireland, two from Brazil, and one from Chile. The other group consisted of four Russians and another Chilean, with the Russian translator being from Ukraine. Most of my time not speaking English was spent speaking Russian and Spanish, so I was happy to have that knowledge going in. Each of them came from different backgrounds, professions and varying levels of yoga experience, from current teacher to limited experience. On top of this, I was the youngest person in the course by a good margin. I was a bit worried about my lack of flexibility and being the only guy, but they all immediately felt like family and it was a joy learning all of these things with them.

A fire ceremony kicked off our time together

I will go into a bit more detail with the teachers, as their unique personalities brought something different to the table, which I think allowed me to construct what I think my desired teaching style will be if I ever pick up teaching yoga. We had to teach a one hour class for our certification, so I already practiced this a bit, but experiencing the different classes daily let me experience different teaching types to pick and choose the parts I liked best.

The Hatha teacher, who also taught Adjustment and Alignments, was very intelligent and straight to the point. A lot of his instruction came off as a bit harsh as a result, but the information was always spot on with no time wasted. From him, I learned a ton of techniques for working on flexibility issues, as well as what to look for when adjusting myself and others.

The Pranayama teacher, who also led meditation and relaxation, was a class favorite. The energy in every interaction with him was always pure joy, regardless of the situation. Even when he taught us the uncomfortable shatkriyas, he was coaching mental strength to people and brought such a positive attitude. As was mentioned before, his voice and manner of speaking was extremely soothing. For my required meditation in my class, I definitely stole is speaking style and cadence, which the other classmates said worked alongside confidence to make the experience very calming.

This man exudes to positive energy

The Anatomy teacher, also taught Philosophy and was the director of the school, was wildly intelligent and had an insane confidence in teaching any information. We had less personal time with him, but the knowledge he taught us formed the backbone of the other teachings.

I tried to convince him that he was a perfect height for volleyball, but something about dedication to yoga

Our Ashtanga teacher likely did the most in forming my teaching style, as his strict following of tradition as well as pinpoint accuracy in his means of communicating adjustments and alignments made everything so simple. As every inhale and exhale has a corresponding movement in Ashtanga, there is limited time to give or receive information , so every word must be chosen careful. This combined with his confident way of speaking allowed you to follow his voice and let your body follow along almost unconsciously. An admirable skill in a teacher of anything, especially something as intricate as moving the human body in odd positions for over an hour.

He only taught me Ashtanga so I’d be stretched for badminton

The Mantra teacher taught me the use of mantras as a focusing technique amongst other things, while pointing out their usefulness. They also allow you to introduce the class to following instruction and bonding together before any asanas are performed. Prior to this class, I usually stayed silent during mantras, but hearing an entire class perform a mantra is a pretty amazing thing.

I didn’t even know she was Russian for the whole first week

There were many other people in the ashram, including the people from the other course, but I think two of them deserve a special mention. Mukesh was mentioned in the previous post as he was the one who picked me up on a scooter and drove me back to the ashram at night when I arrived. He handled seemingly everything at the ashram. He led pre meal mantras, he handled our payments and any forms we needed, he fixed any issues we had. All around, he was delightful and helped whenever we needed it. The other person was Vidarth, the son of the director and mantra teacher. He was two and a half, spoke some Russian, Hindi and English, and generally brought joy to all of us. I have missed my neices and nephews since I have been gone, but this was the first time I had any extended time to hang out with kids. He sang mantras with us, flirted with the girls and was generally just a funny kid.

My man, Vidart, already spreading his vast knowledge

Becoming My Polar Opposite

Regularly throughout the course, other classmates would expound on how calm I was, and how they hoped to approach situations with my level of calmness. This isn’t me bragging, this is to point out how different my life was last month. No one who knows me would describe me as calm. I am all fire, usually competitive and on the move.

Beyond this, I am an avid meat eater. As of this writing, it has been thirty two days without meat for me. I plan to eat meat when I get to Europe, but said I would stay vegetarian for my stay in India. The first couple of days I felt tired and weak, but this was also likely from the significant decrease in protein, fat and overall calories. The sattvic style meals mostly consist of vegetables, broth and chapati. Occasionally, there are lentils and chickpeas but the amount of protein and fat was definitely not what my body was used to. Once I rectified this difference with desserts and the occasional dish outside of the ashram, I felt a bit better. I still noticed a significant decrease in size, although only a slight decrease in actual weight, but this could also be due to lack of blood in my muscles from not working out and not having any creatine in my system. Either way, it has been fine, although the focus has been more on carbohydrates with protein being harder to get. I miss the texture of meat and can’t wait to get back to it, but it allowed me to try some dishes I likely would have never tried.

Sometimes the meals at school definitely didn’t satisfy my American appetite
The cafes held it down on Indian food though

Rishikesh as a city is known as one of the holiest cities in India and the birthplace of Yoga. The holy river Ganges runs through the city and the area near where I took my course was literally filled with yoga, ayurveda and similar things. There were no other options, there was no meat sold anywhere, no books to buy outside of these topics, no alcohol. Living in Rishikesh almost forced you to live this lifestyle. I think the lack of choice made the reality easier to stomach.

Realistically, I sucked at keeping my focus purely to the practice. I spent eight hours a day meditating, doing yoga and learning similar topics. Never in my life have I had to study for things, my brain excels at holding information. Instead of studying the material we learned every day, I spent my minimal free time learning German, practicing web development, watching movies and reading books. So standard Sam stuff. I also spent some of the time practicing volleyball on the roof by myself, because I took our ball from Thailand, which helped keep me from being restless and helped me work on some stuff I learned from my olympic friends. Only so much can be changed at once I guess.

After the initial weakness from diet change, everything flowed pretty easily. With temperatures topping out at over one hundred and my general disdain for routine, there was a bit in the middle where I dreaded going to the lectures. A day or two where I spent sick in my room gave me a necessary break. Beyond this, the entire experience was amazing and allowed me to clear some things out of my head. It also allowed me to make some decisions that have been mildly haunting me about my future, as I couldn’t reconcile what I actually want and what I think I should do. Meditation definitely has its place in the busy mind.

All Work And No Play

On our full days off, we had one scheduled excursion. The first one was a mountain sunrise “hike”. I was pumped, I woke up at 4:30am excited to hike. What we really did was take a truck over an hour around the horrible, winding roads to a big staircase leading to a temple to view the sunset. A beautiful view, but not the hiking I was looking forward to. The second one was a Ganga Aarti performance. A nightly sunset ritual with mantra chanting and people moving varying sizes of handles set ablaze. Concluded with the standard blessing and forehead painting, this was a nice experience to see something more traditional on the river. The third excursion was rafting down the Ganges. I love rafting, and in the heat, the ice cold Ganges was perfect. Most of the girls had never been rafting, and the stronger rapids led to all of them screaming at the top of their lungs. This trip also included some jumps off of rocks into the water, which is always a fun way to increase your heart rate. The final excursion was an hour hike to a sacred cave which housed a Baba, a man whose life was entirely dedicated to meditation. He meditated in the cave for twelve years. After meeting him, we were brought into the cave. After the initial opening, we were asked to go further into the cave, which was a smaller opening used for meditation. One of the girls didn’t want to enter due to claustrophobia, and I wasn’t able to enter due to being too big for the narrow pathway leading to the second room. We meditated in the initial room with the Baba while the others meditated inside. Overall, each one exposed us to something new in Rishikesh.

Posing at the view where we saw the sunrise
The Ganga Aarti performance
Climbing back in the raft after leaping from that rock behind me
It’s really easy to grow your hair out when you just meditate in a cave all day

Outside of the excursions, we made many trips into town for dinner, dessert and to check out the shopping options. I found some new dishes that I will likely be ordering from Indian restaurants and desserts I will be making for events. I also got asked to play volleyball by some locals, which was a fun experience. The net was in the middle of a dirt field, and although some of the locals were good, they all insisted playing opposite me, so most of it was spent playing three versus eight or nine. They were also all hard court players, which isn’t exactly my favorite style of volleyball. Otherwise, I was hiding in my room or hanging out with my classmates.

The Holy City

Rishikesh was my first real exposure to India besides the ride from Delhi. There are a lot of similarities to Southeast Asia but tons of differences. The city is mostly silent, besides cars and scooters laying on their horns for almost no reason. Scooters and cars ride in both directions on the almost single lane roads. Trucks are filled to the brim with humans and drive with almost no logic. People ride scooters across bridges and down walkways that are too narrow for two people, yet they will lay on the horn behind you as you are blocked by another scooter or a cow. Patience is key here.

I guarantee both of this scooters were laying on their horn when I took this

Cows are sacred in India, and thus they pretty much do as they please. They block narrow walkways and lay in the middle of the street. The go to the bathroom wherever and whenever they want. Occasionally, an entire horde will block an area and you just have to sneak past them. They are nice enough though, so we pet them and fed them our flower necklaces every once in a while. They are absolutely everywhere in the city though.

There is at least one cow in Rishikesh
This cow got my respect and Thays’s flower necklace

Most of the month, Rishikesh was above forty degrees Celsius (over one hundred Fahrenheit), so sweating was constant. This made it almost impossible to have the energy to do anything outside of yoga. Luckily, the holy Ganges River was only about a ten minute walk and stays between ten and fifteen degrees Celsius ( fifty to sixty degrees Fahrenheit) and we headed there whenever we got the chance. The extreme temperature change gave us a chance to cool off, as well as time to work on some meditative breathing to be able to enter the water. Trips to the river also included locals approaching you to take selfies or facetime their friends video of you, with or without asking permission. Overall, a saving grace in the brutal heat.

I will never get sick of Ganges views

Other than that, the city is mostly yoga schools, ayurveda clinics, merchandise shops or cafes. Your options are limited on what to do outside of the yogic lifestyle, so we usually opted to just hang out in cafes or walk around. The girls spent a lot more time shopping than me, because I have no patience for this. There are some things I will miss about the peaceful city, but I was ready for a change when I left.

The Culmination

My meditation guiding skills are enough to put everyone to sleep

Our course came to an end with each of us having to teach a course. My course consisted of a beginning and ending mantra, five minutes of pranayama, one hours of asanas followed by ten minutes of guided meditation. It was interesting to see how everyone turned the same information into completely different classes. We also had to take a short multiple choice test on the information we learned, which we all passed.

The whole crew got their certificates
And then got real lazy after a long photo shoot

Our final day concluded with a ceremony where each of us got to talk about our experience, followed by the teachers telling us about their experience teaching us and then each of us getting our certificates. Following getting our certificates, we all ventured to cool off in the Ganges.

One day, I will grow up and get serious
But for now, I’m just an overgrown child

Now, with another certification, my soul is a little less aflame, I am a certified yoga teacher, and back to living out of a backpack. Before leaving Rishikesh, I visited the famous Beatles Ashram and then made my way to Dharamshala, home of the Dalai Lama, but that’s for the next post. As usual, let me know if there’s anything else you want me to expound on or especially bored you. Until next time, Namaste.

Goodnight, Rishikesh

The End of an Era: March 21st – April 6th

For starters, this post will be considerably longer than the past ones. This post will cover over two weeks, as opposed to the usual one week. The reasons for this are that the last two weeks have been extremely time consuming, I was trying to truely enjoy each moment I had left on Koh Phangan and with the yoga course being a routine, I will do a separate post for that all together. For the reason of enjoying each moment, my phone didn’t come out very often, so pictures will also be limited unfortunately. If I can find the time, I will continue to do weekly posts before the end of the yoga course, covering some topics I have been meaning to write on (and feel free to suggest some topics/questions you want to be enlightened on since I have been traveling so much). So let’s start where we left off.

Old Friends, New Levels

Ryan and I made our way back to our beloved Koh Phangan (the island from the second Thailand tournament), decidedly one of our favorite destinations from the whole trip. Our taxi to flight to flight to bus to ferry all went very smoothly and just about on time as we imagined. The ferry ride to Koh Phangan from Surat Thani took us into the night, so we got a really cool view of the blood moon, which looked gigantic over the island of Koh Phangan. One of my favorite things about how beautiful stars and the moon are is that it is difficult to get a picture to capture that, which I think just adds to the experience. We arrived to the island and received some inflated taxi prices, but we aren’t new here. We walked away and demanded a price we knew was far. The songthaew driver followed, because he has to drive far either way, so he might as well take any more money he can get. He quietly agreed to our lower price on the condition that we do not tell the other passengers what we paid. Score. We head to Haad Rin, back to SK Guesthouse where we stayed the previous month. A friend from the previous month grabbed us a three bed room for one thousand baht, or thirty three American dollars per night(Thanks, Martin!). Three beds, you ask? Surprise guest from Cleveland, Aaron Tenhuisen.

Aaron and I met playing each other at NEO and when Ryan got hurt, we played a bit together. During a tournament, I mentioned this trip and he mentioned that he was going to travel through Patagonia and India. We also discussed similar views on getting better at volleyball. So when we found training with Olympians in a cool destination, I naturally shot him a message to let him know the option was there if he had the vacation days. We arrived and greeted Aaron, who had already checked into the room. We hit up some favorite dinner spots and got some sleep.

The following day, we went and peppered on the beach and then headed over to Tommy’s, where the camp would take place. We got an early jump on meeting some other camp attendees and got back to moving in the sand after a month on the motorbikes. We had the luxury of knowing the island and some of the people already, so we gave Aaron the run down on where to go and what to watch out for.

How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall? Practice.

Players from all over the world showed up to learn

The camp started with an introduction to the team running BeachBox Camps. Amongst some other players from Latvia facilitating BeachBox Camps, the coaches were Latvian Olympian Aleksandr “The Lion King” Samoilovs, Canadian Olympian (and now attempting to represent America in 2020) Chaim Schalk, Latvian professional and brother of Samoilovs Olympic partner Toms Smedins, and Russian professional Elena Ponomarev. After a brief introduction, we were split into groups and set off to play sideout. Essentially, you are matched with another person, and you serve to the defending team. If the serving team gets the point, they move to the defending side. If the defending team gets the point, they get a point. Every time you were removed from the court, you would grab a new partner. Ryan and I were on the same net with Aaron on another. I felt fresh and played out of my mind, but not well enough to get moved up a group. The coaches were watching our games and adjusting the groups. At the end, we found we were placed in the second group, with group one being a bit higher level than us.

With about fifty attendees, the coaches did a pretty good job setting the groups from such a short sample size. The only blaring mistake was Aaron, he was placed in the last group. It could have been because it was his first experience with the international ball or the coaches just never saw him doing anything spectacular when they looked. Either way, we told him it would get sorted out. After the trials, we set out on a hike as a group.

The view from the first day camp hike

Normally, I avoid things like hiking when I know I am about to play a lot. Forcing the muscles I am going to require a lot of power from to show off their endurance skills beforehand is usually not the best combination. Either way, we hiked up one of the smaller mountain paths near Haad Rin and got a cool view of the coast. We even had some local dogs accompany us some of the way. After that, we headed through the city to the southern part to check out the sunset beach. After seeing the makeshift pier, we walked along a boardwalk to a small lighthouse. From there, we head up another large hill to a hotel bar, which included an infinity pool overlooking Haad Rin beach. A quick cool off in the pool (having a bunch of sweaty volleyball players around probably ruined some girl’s nice infinity pool Insta pic, sorry!) and then we headed down the rocks back to the beach. Some lunch and then off to the first day of practice.

Anyone who has played with me knows I prefer consistency. I always bump set to eliminate doubles and to keep things consistent. For training, I figured what better way to learn clean hand sets than to exclusively do them. The first practice was a lot of passing drills with Chaim Schalk. Luckily for me, Chaim’s coaching style is in line with my learning style. My hands had been pretty consistently clean, but hitting the desired location on weird passes was an issue. A few mental cues from Chaim and I was hitting all my hand sets. Day one of training over and we were off for some dinner and to relax.

I’m not very tall, but Toms and Chaim definitely tower over me

After the first day of training, the coaches realized they made a mistake putting Aaron in the last group, so we suggested he be put in ours. The second day of training started at 9:30am, which meant the sun was pounding down on us. Unfortunately, the motorbike trip didn’t keep my nutrition and hydration up to my usual standards. It was hot, I was dehydrated and we were running line to line defensive drills. This training was with Samoilovs and I had no intention of giving up during his training. A little over halfway through, we were doing defense drills followed by hitting. My energy was non existent and we were covering court and then having to jump into the air to hit hard. I tried to play it cool and do some roll shots, but was told to actually swing. Between each drill I would slowly trudge through the sand, saving my energy for the drill itself. Spartan training had taught me that I had much more in the tank when I felt like I had to stop, but that didn’t help things.

After I started to fade, sitting between each drill and running to the water whenever possible, Ryan and another member of the group decided to sit out. Now there were only enough of us participating to properly do the drill, meaning there was no sitting out time. My perserverance had damned me. Post practice, I grabbed my things and walked straight back to the hotel for a cold shower and air conditioning.

The second training later in the day went a lot better. It was still hot but I was more hydrated. My muscles were definitely beaten up by the first practice and now we were doing blocking drills with Toms, the most intense of the coaches. I am a defensive player, so I rarely block and when I do, it is wildly unorthodox. Repeated block jumps left me edging death again. Until I served a ball short on Ryan, causing him to dive and his also dehydrated calf muscle to cramp. He hit the ground in pain and began yelling that he pulled his muscle. Looking at it, I immediately told him it was a cramp and he said he didn’t know the difference so it was pulled. Science. Either way, it bought me some time to relax. Sorry, Ryan. On the bright side, Toms taught us some great footwork that really alleviated the weakest part of my blocking, pulling off the net. Day two of training done, off to Mexican for dinner.

The crew with the pros

We all ate a small pre-dinner, as we had had Mexican twice on this trip and both times had been underwhelming portion wise. The entire group loaded into songthaews and we road to a Mexican place in Thong Sala. Some decent food and decent portions and afterwards we got to hang out with Samoilovs and Renars, one of the people facilitating BeachBox Camps. Now that we had met people, it became more of training with friends which made it even better.

A Level Player, Olympic Level Smack Talker

Since the start of my volleyball career, I have been known to refer to myself as a “C level player, Open level smack talker”, but my skills have improved in the last two years, and I guess my smack talk had to to. We’ll get to that though.

Two more trainings on the third day and then there was a night tournament planned. We were told it would be fours, but when we arrived it was sixes. Sand sixes, my least favorite version of volleyball. It gets a little more fun when you add olympic players. I was put on a team with Chaim Schalk, Ryan had Elena Ponomarev and Aaron was on a team with Samoilovs.

The first game should have been easy for us. We made a ton of mistakes, hitting into the net and missing serves. I thought maybe Chaim would kill us all and just play by himself. Game two was a little better but still not a win. The next two games, we got it together and starting putting up some points. Chaim was having a blast running indoor calls with us. Dan did a lot better than I did, as he has played a lot of indoor. I was mostly just smiling and nodding and relying on my speed and unorthodox style to put some points down. Luckily, our losses were to the last place team and the undefeated team, so our victories against the other two teams put us in the position to go to finals. It was a mostly for fun tournament so it didn’t last very long and was just straight to finals. Our team had been making it work but we were facing the undefeated team in finals.

Finals was a blast. Matched against Aaron, our friend from the first time in Koh Phangan, Matias and Samoilovs, you know there was a lot of smack talk. Towards the middle of the game, I served a ball to Samoilovs outside shoulder and it went shooting into the ocean. Everyone began cheering but when they looked back, I was gone. I had started running and yelling “Book me a flight! I did it!”. After the dramatics, we played a close game that ended with us winning. We didn’t get a video of me acing Samoilovs but Ryan did grab a video of Samoilovs refusing to give me my medal because I aced him. The most fun night of sixes came to an end and we all went to sleep and had a free day following.

Beachbox Camp night tourney champs

Learn to Relax

For the free day, the camp offered a trip around the island to see some waterfalls and other sites, but we really needed the break after going straight from the Vietnam trip to training. Ryan and I grabbed breakfast and pretty much hid in the room while Aaron went on a hike and went to play. I got my India visa handled and later headed over to the courts to play. I got some good games in and after a few hours decided that my body needed rest. I went and grabbed two dinners and Dan and I decided to get them to go and go watch more pick up. Samoilovs had been traveling with his best friend and wanted to play some doubles, so we had to get back on the court.

Dan is a pretty good player, so to get points, my hand sets just had to be on point. Samoilovs didn’t jump to attack or serve, unfortunately, stating that he had to see my insurance first. Dan and I both got some aces on him but sadly lost our first game. We played him in the rematch and grabbed the win. We never had a chance for the rubber match, so I guess I can say I’m 1-1 against olympic players. Definitely an experience I likely will not get again.

Found my new partner for this season

Severely tired, I laid on the side of the court and said I was done playing. Sandra, one of the girls running the camp, offered me up to play and the other guy ran to change. I felt bad saying no after he went to change, so I played. Big mistake, I woke up the following morning with the tightest hamstring.

Everything is Better With Friends

The next two days were the standard two a days of training, but there was a half moon party on the island on that second day. Our final day of training. We all decided to skip it since it was a bit expensive for Thailand and we had the King of the Beach tournament the following day. The group decided to host some games of sand sixes with some special rules. Any time the ball hit the ground inside the court without being touched by that respective side’s team, that team had to drink. They also had to drink if they lost three consecutive points. Our team was at a slight disadvantage as Aaron and I both brought rum and Aaron is big on sharing. Team Rum definitely was not the most coordinated, but we had the most fun. Later in the night, we ended up playing much better and actually pulling out a win. A second time of actually having fun playing sand sixes. BeachBox has some magic skills. Everyone headed off for the Half Moon Party and we got some much needed sleep.

The following day was the King of the Beach tournament, my favorite tournament format. The tournament was split into groups 1 and 2 and groups 3, 4 and 5. Then everyone grabbed a number and the nets were made in numerical order. I got the unlucky draw and was the only one from group 2 on my net. Even worse, my first game was against the two players that everyone thought would win, my good buddies Matias and Dan. I played the worst I think I have ever played against some really good players and didn’t feel good about any of it.

After getting out, I just watched everyone else. Ryan also played poorly and didn’t make it through. Aaron tied for a spot in the next round but had to play a game of volley tennis to take the spot and didn’t end up winning. So we were all out. The BeachBox logo is a lion (because Samoilovs is “The Lion King”) so Sandra added some art to my lion tattoo. Finals ended up being three of the guys from my net, so I didn’t feel too bad. It was a good end to the camp. Following the finals, we were all given certificates for completing the camp and the winners of the tournament were given medals and actual game worn jerseys from the pros.

After that, we all went to a white party at the infinity pool bar mentioned earlier. I don’t travel with white clothes, so I went and picked up a white tanktop with a skull made of flowers on it. The drinks were wildly expensive even for America there, so I kept drinking to a minimum. We all swam and hung out and said goodbye one last time. On the walk there, Samoilovs mentioned that he had wanted the tanktop I had on when he saw it in the store, so I gave it to him, another cool experience I probably won’t get again. Party over, everyone said their goodbyes.

Ryan is a party animal…that animal just happens to be a cat

Time Flies

The following day was our last day with Aaron and some of the others from the camp. Woken up with demands of what was going on, I stepped in and planned the day. We would all rent scooters, go to Malibu beach (where the other volleyball nets were) and then head somewhere for sunset. We grabbed breakfast and figured out how many people we had. Eight people, so four scooters. Ryan and I were automatically drivers due to our Vietnam experience. I hadn’t missed driving after how much we did in Vietnam, and the lack of maintenance on the scooters there didn’t make me happy to get back on one.

We made out way to Malibu Beach and were all way too tired to do any serious playing, so we played some laid back fours. Honestly, a great way to say goodbye as we were all involved and just having fun. Some of the group left for the ferry and I found us a bar the watch the sunset.

One last day of play at Malibu Beach before people start leaving

We made the trek up to 360 bar in the northwest corner of Koh Phangan. The road up to the bar takes you up some pretty steep dirt roads, but we made it. When you park, there is a beautiful view of the ocean. Everyone started taking pictures and a member of the group, Paul, exclaimed how awesome it was. His girlfriend, Milla, pointed to some garbage and replied “Yes, look at this beautiful garbage.”. “And to think he was going to propose.”, I retorted. “Maybe later.”, he shot back. We entered the bar to see the even cooler view to the west that included to island of Koh Ma.

360 has a pretty good sunset view

Prices were reasonable, and a purchase was required, so we all grabbed dinner and I got an ice cream bar. While sitting there chatting, Paul pulled something out of his pocket while facing Milla. Confused, I thought “Paul is so dedicated to that joke from earlier, he even found what looks like a ring box.”. As he opened it, Dan and I both sat there with jaws open. Milla was equally dumbfounded. “You still haven’t said yes.”, Paul blurted out. An awesome day topped off with a marriage proposal. We grabbed a bunch of pictures and watched the sunset before taking off. This week will be a hard one to top.

The following day, we went to check out an insane hotel that we all thought was a temple. Ornate architecture and several pools were scattered along the staircases as the property went down to the beach. We checked everything out and went to sit on the beach for a bit. After that, we returned our scooters and grabbed a taxi to Thong Sala, where Aaron would grab the ferry. A stop to Phantip market for his last taste of authentic Thai food and then we took him to the ferry. Traveling so weird in that you spend all day for several days with someone and then they are just gone. Goodbye never quite covers it.

Aaron showed off his new shorts at the fancy temple hotel

Friendship Catalyst

I have often said that traveling creates my favorite types of friendships. In hostels, you instantly become best friends with people. Especially in a language with a different native language than your own, that person may be the only person you know in that country and maybe even who speaks your language. This creates bonds faster than any other common situation. Ryan was staying on the island after I planned to leave so I shared a hotel with Dan, our new French born American (we’re claiming him) friend from the camp. Dan and I negotiated prices for some scooters near the ferry so we could drop them off when we left. After that, we grabbed a bungalow in one of the western beach towns and headed off to play some volleyball. I played horribly again so I decided my brain needed a volleyball break.

These are a few of my favorite things

Following the play, we grabbed some dinner and decided to go check out some neighboring beaches. Unlike the always lively Haad Rin we were used to, all of these beaches seemed to die down at 9pm. We rode to several beaches and all of them were dark with no visitors. It was an interesting sight to see the stars with no light pollution and the ocean lit by nothing by boats and the moon. We had planned an early morning hike so we headed home.

Dan had been the one really pushing to wake up at 7am to do the big hike, so when I woke up at 8am, I assumed he wouldn’t be happy with me. When I sat up and saw him laying in his bed, I didn’t feel as bad. We grabbed free breakfast at our hotel and ate looking out onto the beach. In general, I do not appreciate things in the moment as much as I think I should so on this trip I have tried to be very conscious of appreciating things. Eating delicious food on one of the most beautiful beaches on the planet was definitely something I made sure to appreciate.

Life is definitely not bad

After breakfast, we met up with Ryan at a nearby waterfall. Due to it being dry season, there was pretty much no water, so it was just rocks. What was supposed to be a short hike turned into over two kilometers. The lack of water let us scramble up the rocks where the water usually runs, making it more of a climb than a hike. After over an hour of walking, we hit a viewpoint of the entire western coast of the island.

The view of the western half of the island
Ryan climbs up where a waterfall should be

I stopped up to the beach to watch Matias and Dan play, but resisted the urge to play to give my brain and body the much needed break. After they were done playing, Dan and I grabbed some Indonesian food that was recommended to us and checked out the night market. I had forgotten how much I missed getting a bunch of different foods for cheap at street markets. On the way bck from the night market, we passed what looked like a carnival at one of the wats. We checked out a bunch of local games, including a ring toss where you could win entire bottls of liquor. I saw soft serve and got a huge vanilla strawberry cone for less than a dollar. This is something I will be sad to leave behind when I leave Asia.

Bliss

Dan headed to Koh Samui for the day so I planned to take it easy that day. I remembered that Treva, my old neighbor from Ohio State, the one we randomly ran into in a tea shop in Chiang Rai, happened to be on the island that day so I messaged her and found out she was staying at the same hostel as me. She didn’t have a motorbike yet so I offered to scoot her around. Not feeling safe riding without her having a helmet, I stopped at some rental shops to get her a helmet. We stopped at three and all of them wanted more money to rent her a helmet than to give us another bike and a helmet included or just straight up told us no. We opted to get breakfast near where I rented the bike and just got her a helmet where I rented my bike.

After we rode around a bit, I decided I should do some snorkeling. I asked the hostel clerk where I could rent a snorkel and for how much, especially since I had been meaning to try out those new full face snorkel masks. He gave me a confused look and handed me an older style snorkel and separate mask and said I could just take them for free if I brought them back. Not exactly what I wanted but I always down for free. I rode to the nearby beaches that had been suggested for snorkeling. I walked into the water and began swimming through, passing all sorts of different fish and coral. I forgot how beautiful marine life is and was thankful it is so easy to float in salt water. I also remembered why they suggest not have a moustache when wearing a snorkeling mask. It makes it near impossible to form a seal between the mask and your face. Constantly, my mask was filling with water. I continued to breathe through the snorkel and ignored the burning as the salt water filled the nose area of the mask. I walked across the sandbar to Koh Ma and then road off to a few other beaches.

I’ll miss beach dogs a lot

I took the snorkel back and picked up Treva and back to Malibu beach we went. Ryan and I saw some of the people from the volleyball camp and played some sideout with them. After Ryan stopped playing, it was me and three Swedish players who were all better than me. They made a bet on the game in Swedish and then I was notified of the bet. We lost the game and somehow I ended up buying beers for everyone because of it. Thank god Thailand prices are cheap. Back home to take care of some things for India and finally get some sleep.

The End Approaches

It is always funny to me how motivated I become as a deadline approaches. I was fine to lay around the island and do nothing until we played volleyball for days and in the last few days, I had to do everything I could. I made some plans for us to go learn some archery on my second to last day. An older German man named Thomas ran an archery range near where we were staying. For five dollars per person, you got thirty minutes, which included the owner helping you calibrate the sights and teaching you the proper way to shoot an arrow. After each of our bows were calibrated, we went six rounds of shooting. After everyone finished shooting, we retrieved our arrows and Thomas taught us how to add up our scores. As a child, I loved shooting bows and it is still a very satisfying thing to do. Before I left, I had wanted to buy a bow and start that as a hobby but it was a decent investment when I knew I would be fleeing the country (bows don’t really fit in a forty liter backpack and airports probably don’t like them). Side note, there are some really cool places to go shoot in Cleveland if anyone has interest in starting it as a hobby. After the thirty minutes, we all had sore hands so it was the perfect amount of time.

We all went to play and I finally felt like I was back to playing better. Malibu beach is tucked in the Northern coast of Koh Phangan, so sitting in the water post game was a nice relaxation. I had wanted to hit my favorite Haad Rin restaurant, Mama Schnitzel, one last time but no one else wanted to, so I made the thirty minute ride alone. Afterwards, I stopped at the night market for one last sticky rice and mango. We made some plans to do the big hike to the highest viewpoint on Koh Phangan that we missed earlier in the week early in the morning. We were all set to meet there at 7:30am.

When I woke up at 8:15am, I was filled with a bit of regret. It was my last day on the island and everyone was hiking without me because I slept through my alarms. I dropped my bags off because Dan and I were again splitting a room for my last night and stopped off to grab water and snacks. The hike took an estimated one and a half to two hours. I sidelined my regret for missing the hike with everyone and remembered that most of my friends are humans. Lucky for me (and thanks to Jeff), I have that Spartan blood and my body is always ready to blast up mountains. I rode to the hiking trail, strapped my sandals tight, removed my shirt and put an audiobook on my headlines. One hour later, completely soaked from the hour of steep hiking, I arrived at the top to find my friends. They had only beaten me by thirty minutes. The viewpoint was honestly underwhelming, but the hour hike alone was something I had forgotten was such a calming experience for me. We grabbed some pictures and then headed back down the trail.

The view from the Khao Ra hike

We headed into town for lunch and then all met back up to play some volleyball. Ryan and I played our last game together and then we all headed to Zen beach so see why it was so popular for sunset. The beach was filled with yogis, people practicing poi, juggling and other skills, and a drum circle. I grabbed a big ear of grilled corn and we all sat and watched the sun creep down behind the ocean. I will never get sick of sunsets over water. We grabbed dinner and ice cream and I said some goodbyes. I headed home and made sure everything was packed and everything was in order for my journey in the morning.

I get why people go to Zen Beach every day

The Storm Before The Calm

I woke up and rode to return my bike. Ryan and Dan met me for breakfast and I finally tried Thai rice porridge. My day would consist of a ferry, a bus, a flight, a taxi ride, another flight, a layover, flight, layover, one last flight and then a taxi ride. It would be about twenty four hours from leaving Koh Phangan before hitting my ashram in Rishikesh, India. Ryan joked that something obviously bad would happen with all of those moving parts, mostly because I was involved. I let my anxiety about the situation subside and enjoyed our final breakfast together.

They walked with me over to the ferry and Ryan and I took a picture together in front of the port together. Over three months of being together every day and it came to an end just like that. My deep love for films and literature always leaves me feeling unsatisfied with goodbyes. I always feel like they should be grand or somehow notable. Three months of adventuring through three countries, countless new friends and a ton of new skills that most people never even think to learn in their lives. All of that has to end with something crazy, right? The action packed trip of a lifetime with your best friend doesn’t just abruptly end…in the movies. We hugged and said goodbye and I walked to the ferry. Hollywood leaves us with such high expectations.

After over three months, this is our final picture together

I sat on the ferry and the wave of emotion and anxiety overcame me. Either of us will be quick to tell you that I handled all of the planning and things for the trip, so I wasn’t worried about being stranded or having to handle anything for the remaining travels alone. Now, I was truly alone. My anxieties were not about dealing with the bad things alone, but not having someone with me to experience the good things. Had I appreciated the time as best I could? Three months is a lot of time to spend nonstop with a person, I am sure there are a ton of situations that I could have handled better or enjoyed more. Other than try to appreciate the insane amount of things that we did in the past three months, there was little I could do while sitting on the neverending ferry ride than reminisce.

The ferry that took me from paradise

My ferry finally arrived and I sat at the port and waited for my bus. I took my bus to the airport and made sure I made it to the correct gate. I watched Thai hard court volleyball nationals on a fuzzy television while I waited two hours for my flight. The plane arrived, but boarding didn’t begin. I had three and a half hours for my next layover, and the airport I would land at was thirty five minutes from the airport I had to leave from. Thirty minutes later, we still weren’t boarding. The women at the gate desk informed me it would leave any minute. Thirty more minutes and we took off. Over an hour delay for less than a one hour flight. Now I was down to just over two hours to get to my next flight. The delay also pushed my journey between airports into rush hour time.

I arrived at DMK and had to make to BKK. I acknowledge that the free shuttle would be too slow and headed to the taxi area. The airport taxi area had a queue system and I definitely had no time for that. I opened grab and called a cab and walked ten minutes from the airport for it to pick me up. When I told the cab driver my flight was in two and a half hours, his eyes got huge. I wouldn’t be at that airport for two hours. I told him I have to try. Google said it would take one and a half hours and Google hadn’t failed us yet.

The driver spent the first ten minutes of the ride telling me how I probably won’t make my flight. Great social intelligence from this guy. Google suggested hoping off the expressway and taking streets to avoid a blockage. When I mentioned it, he said no, Google is wrong and continued forward. Google’s predicted time shot up twenty minutes. My anxiety skyrocketed.

We continued forward and Google suggested another change of route that would knock off six minutes. I looked at his GPS and it suggested the same thing. I pointed out that it would save six minutes and he told me six minutes was nothing. I explained that when I am down to twenty five minutes, six minutes is huge. This started a huge argument that ended in me asking him to please take the route the GPS was suggesting. Angrily, he got off the highway…at the wrong exit. Now we sat at a red light while he yelled about me not trusting him and how I would definitely miss my flight now. I tried to explain that he got off at the wrong exit but he was too busy yelling. Cool, now I am late and am getting yelled at. Why didn’t I call a motorbike taxi? They don’t care about traffic and I don’t have to converse with them. My mistake for turning my back on motorbikes.

The driver continued and Google suggested he get back on the expressway. He passed it, exclaiming “Oh, now you want expressway? I thought you didn’t want to be on the expressway before. You make no sense.”. I started some breathing techniques, because I was clearly not going to explain to this man how GPS directions work and I really didn’t want to continue an argument and end up ejecting him from his own taxi. I called Citi to see my options, and they told me that because I was checked in, I had to deal with the airline. I called the airline and they failed to pull up my flight at all, so there was definitely nothing they could do. I hopelessly sat in the backseat watching my ETA approach my flight time.

As we neared the airport, I pulled out money to pay him. He looked at the money and said “What? No tip?”. My usual disdain for people expecting tips was compounded by the fact that this man had actively cost me time and added to my anxiety. I threw him an extra twenty baht and started putting my bags on. As soon as he pulled up, I hopped out and sprinted to the international departures security line. I asked them if I could still make the flight, they waved me through. Twenty five minutes until departure time. I got through security. My bag beeps. That damn screwdriver from Vietnam had made it through four flights, of course it would get stopped now. I reach in, throw out the screwdriver and run off with my bag. I hit passport control. I make it through. Fifteen minutes until departure time. I made it through security and passport control in ten minutes, I got this. I see my flight on the board. “Final Call”, it flashes. I am in C and the flight is in E. I start sprinting wit my almost thirty pounds of bags. It must have been about a kilometer. I began breathing heavy. My legs wanted to quit. I reach the gate, I see the plane. I arrive as a man is locking the gate. “I am on that flight, please let me in.”, I tell the man. “Closed, get another ticket.”, he replies. I plead, telling him I have three other flights. He again responds to get another ticket. I tell him the plane is still there. Another no. Two attendants come out and tell me they have to take me back to immigration. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I genuinely wanted to cry.

They take me the long walk I had sprinted back to immigration and cancel my departure stamp. I am defeated. I walk to an outlet to charge my phone and call my mom. I just want to talk to someone who is not involved to refrain from yelling. I have had Chase handle similar issues with ease, but now I have a Citi card. Not a mistake I will be making again. The flight I missed with a rewards flight booked through Citi. I had another flight in the morning through Citi rewards that had been booked within twenty four hours, and had been eligible for a full refund of points. The initial delayed flight that caused the whole ordeal was booked with my Citi card. I called them, and dealt with the horrendous mess that is their automated system. When I finally got a representative, they immediately transferred me to travel rewards. I never ended up figuring how to dispute the initial delayed flight. I discussed with travel rewards about options for the flight I missed. They explained that they couldn’t help and I had to discuss with the airline. I asked them to cancel my morning flight and refund my points and book me a later flight. Again, they told me that because I was checked in, they could not help. Great, I am doing a myriad of travel planning on poor airport wifi.

I call the missed flight. They tell me that for one hundred and sixty dollars I can have the morning version of the flight I had missed. That’s the best price I had seen. I took it. I checked the AirIndia site for any signs of being able to check out, but all of the reference codes I had been given, including the one to check in to the flight, did not find my flight. I called them and waited on hold for forty minutes without ever reaching a representative. It was now 10pm, I had a flight at 8am and still had to book a hotel. I figured I had done my due diligence, a Citi supervisor could override something. I dealt with their horrible automated interface again. The representative heard my story and apologized, putting me directly through to a supervisor. Immediately she told me she could not help me. I explained to her that none of the numbers they gave me worked and I was on hold for forty minutes with no reply. She told me to wait for longer. Never again will I get a Citi card.

I sat on hold for another hour with AirIndia while booking a hotel and waiting for the shuttle. I finally got a representative. The English was not the best. I explained that I needed to check out of the flight. She asked to cancel the flight. I said no, just check me out. She said she would do that I would receive a confirmation. I asked a second time about the confirmation, she replied yes, I never received one. I arrived at my hotel at midnight. I offered to carry in the bags of an older American couple. While I was carrying their stuff, they were arguing with the front desk about an accidental double booking they needed to cancel. I just wanted to sleep. They walked away to try to cancel while I checked in. Right after I paid, the woman said they couldn’t cancel their room so I could have it for free if I wanted it. Right after I was done paying, the cherry on top of my day. I went to my room and showered.

I called Citi and this time was not my usual polite self. I explained that it had been four hours, Citi had been the opposite of helpful and I just wanted my points refunded. The representative apologized and said he saw that things had been fixed (thanks to my calls earlier). I explained that I had a flight in eight hours and was done dealing with this stuff. He understood and put me on hold for twenty minutes. I resisted my urge to gain psychic abilities and kill him through the phone. Upon returning, he said he could cancel the flight if I gave him permission. I said of course. He replied that I was still checked in and he couldn’t. I almost snapped. I told him I had done more than my due diligence and it needed to be handled. He offered to call the airline for me. I was dumbfounded that the other three representatives couldn’t do that. He offered to call me back in twenty minutes with my options. I told him I would be asleep. I told him I wanted the points and wouldn’t be dealing with anymore phone calls. I still have to call Citi and handle the initial flight and inform them of the nightmare their customer service had been.

The Road to Peace

*Gently cries*

I woke up in the morning before my alarm. The earliest shuttle was full, so I grabbed a taxi. I got to the airport to find out that my second flight was unable to be checked in. I called the airline again and asked them to settle it. They told me that I had to wait until the layover airport to fix it. A supervisor at the Bangkok airport offered to fix it if I could show her all the necessary documents. Finally, a helpful person. Flights settled, I headed to my gate. It took me about forty five minutes to get through security and passport control this time. I spent the rest of my baht on two slices of pizza, a muffin and a coke zero. The simple comforts. SriLankan Airlines had a good selection of movies on the flight, so that occupied me. At the layover airport, I drank a milkshake while waiting for my two hour layover.

Upon arriving in Delhi, I needed to get the money out for my yoga tuition. The ATMs only let me take out one hundred and fifty dollars at a time and there was a line, so I grabbed a chunk to cover my taxi and some extra. The ashram had booked me a taxi and told me where to meet them so I headed there. Twenty minutes of waiting and no replies to my messages and I began to worry. Finally, they called. He would arrive in ten minutes. I thought the ride would be five hours but he informed me it would be seven. I planned to sleep in the backseat but as we got to the car, he opened the front seat for me. I felt bad telling him I wanted to go in the back so I sat in the front.

The roads in India are not the best maintained, there were limited lights and its similarly aggressive to Thailand, but with mostly cars as opposed to motorbikes. I pulled my buff over my eyes and put headphones on. Every time I woke up, it was to oncoming headlights, which was unsettling. Gas stations in India require you to fully get out of the car, so that didn’t help either. We made a pit stop at the driver’s home for me to meet his family and have some chai tea, which I appreciated but at this point, I had no interest in being social. We got back in the car.

Gas stations in India are wild

Two hours left, I fell back asleep. I woke up with around an hour left and the driver informed me how tired he was. Yikes. I did my best to hold an interesting conversation. Asking him about himself and asking him to teach me some Hindi. He got me to Rishikesh and informed me that cars can’t cros the bridges over the Ganga river so he would have to go around or the ashram could get me. He got me to the bridge and someone from the ashram picked me up on a motorbike. As he rode through narrow passages and over crushed bricks, I acknowledge that I am not the lightest person and hopped off or pushed off walls whenever we would get stuck. He got me to the ashram. It as 2am and he informed me I could check in in the morning. The days start at 5:30am but lucky for me, the orientation day started with breakfast at 9am. I had booked a shared room but he took me to a private room. I decided to deal with that in the morning and passed out.

That’s the end of the story of the journey to Rishikesh. For the next month, I will be living in an ashram, learning about yoga. This will include learning Hatha and Ashtanga Yoga, as well as meditation, mantras and other aspects relating to the topic. It also includes a yogic diet, much to my dismay. I can get meat in the town but am dedicated to trying to follow the experience as it is presented to me. I will write one big blog post about the whole experience, but intend to get back to the weekly schedule, so I will write some extraneous posts in the next two weeks. Feel free to message me if there is a topic you want discussed or I will write about some other travel related things that never make it in to these.

Goodbye, Vietnam: March 14th – March 20th

Ryan grabs breakfast without me, so I head up to the hostels free breakfast alone. I see one of the guys from our tour, so I join him. He is a young Ukrainian who grew up in Israel. He tells me he hits all the movie theaters when he travels, so we bond immediately. I mention we are going to the Crazy House, so he offers to join us.

Crazier Than The Crazy House

We decide to make the short fifteen minute walk to the famous Crazy House in Dalat instead of riding there. Kostya shows us a cheap spot to grab pizza and other things and we continue to the house. As we are all walking, we hear a cracking noise from the street and come to a stop in unison. A taxi van goes spinning into a concrete pole and bounces off of it back into the street as three bikes burst into plastic pieces and their riders go flying. This is not the first accident I have been feet from in my life and Kostya had just finished his Israeli military time, so the drill is pretty basic. Call for medical help and make sure no one moves anyone involved in the accident. This is easy if you know the emergency contact number and all of the people involved speak your language. Kostya tries to tell them not to move any of the people, but the crowd of Vietnamese ignore the English. We make sure no one needs help that we could provide and continue walking. The Vietnamese rarity of wearing a full helmet is on full display as we see some of the resulting aftermath of the accident. Talking to our hostel owner later, we find out that another car had been driven by someone high from marijuana and swerved into the wrong lane, causing the bikers to swerve in front of the van and causing the chaos. We also found out that high drivers have caused several traffic deaths in the past few months at red lights. Luckily, this post will go out once we are done riding in Vie

The concrete pole after the accident

We arrive at the Crazy House, made by the designer of the Maze Bar. The Vietnamese woman who created it traveled to Russia to learn about architecture and came back to design these crazy maze like buildings. This one is a hotel and rooms are spread out throughout the maze. The price is a bit exorbitant but it is only two dollars to walk through, so we check it out.

The roof of the crazy house

On the way back, we hit the pizza place and smash a ton of delicious food for the lowest prices we have seen in Dalat. Kostya and I hit the gym after and I am joyful to be sore. The three of us decide to hit a gaming cafe for a few hours since we are tired and pay twenty cents an hour to game. Life is good.

The Silver Lining

Our plan for the day is to eat breakfast, check out and take off to the coast at La Gi. We eat and check out. My bike refuses to start. The mechanic is about fifty meters from the hostel, so I walk it over. They unscrew the side plate and show me that the fuel valve is shut off and chastize me for it. I acknowledge that it was closed, but I don’t have a screwdriver and only rode the bike the fifty meters to the hostel, so I don’t know how that happened. We load up our bags and take off. A few minutes later, in the middle of an intersection, my bike dies again. I thank a higher power for powerful legs and push my way out of the intersection. Ignoring my current state of rage and still without a screwdriver, I pull the side plate open enough for my hand to squeeze through. I reach in, flip the fuel valve and pull my now bleeding hand out. I start the bike back up and take off back to the mechanic. It dies again in the middle of a busy roundabout. More cuts on my fingers, we arrive at the mechanic.

Conversing in a language you don’t speak is hard, but hand signals cover most of the things you say in basic interactions. Most things are universal. Google Translate does a decent job of covering things harder than that. Conveying complex thought is unfortunately still not easy. Trying to explain that this never happened before they touched my bike and now when I am riding it dies and I have to flip the fuel valve is not the easiest thing I have ever done. I regret not spending more time playing charades. Finally they get the idea and I ask them to fix what they broke. They explain that the fuel valve “has wear and tear” and wire the fuel valve open. Wiring things does not make me the most comfortable. I demand a screwdriver and we head off.

Ryan and I decide not to risk it and hit another mechanic to have it fixed correctly. I hit a Yamaha dealership and they tell me that the bike is too old for them to service. I just ask them to look, as that is a basic part of a bike. The mechanic sees the wire, laughs and immediately shuts the bike. They point me to another mechanic. I call Mr.Phung in Hanoi and have him talk to the mechanic who tells him that he is too busy. We hit four more mechanics, who are all either too busy or just wave me off without talking at all. At this point, my frustration is to the point where I just want to sell the bike on the spot and take a bus to Saigon. We stop and get some pizza and I do some research.

Mr.Phung says it should be good to ride, and worst case, my bike just dies and I just stay conscious not to aggressive pass anyone in case it dies out. I open the bike and secure the wiring job the young mechanics had done. They have a lot of experience, but I am sure a physics lesson would do them some good. We have burned a few hours now and won’t make the full ride, but we can at least knock out the two hours of horrible highway driving.

We ride for an hour and I stop to check the valve, it is slightly shut. I look and it has been wired to the air intake, which is not bolted into the bike and is just bouncing around. I contact Mr.Phung and he explains that that is fine and you could ride without an air intake. I explain that since it is wired to the valve, it would be better if it couldn’t move since the tension is what is keeping the valve open. He agrees to explain to a mechanic when we find one.

We finish another hour of riding and hit the town we will be staying in. I hit a mechanic and show him what I want done. He laughs and says it is okay, because he knows that it doesn’t matter if it bounces around. Then he points at the wires and shakes his head no. At this point, I’d just prefer a socket so I could do it myself but that doesn’t work. The next part is the most confusing and happened with a few mechanics earlier in Dalat. I called Mr.Phung and tried to hand the mechanic the phone. He repeatedly stared at the screen in confusion while I motioned to him for him to put it up to his ear while saying “Vietnamese” in Vietnamese. He hit the end call button and handed me back the phone, as if Vietnamese mechanics are scared to talk on the phone. I have Mr.Phung message me the sentence to show them and we head off.

We find another mechanic and show them the sentence. They immediately start unscrewing the air intake. The message must not have fully conveyed what needed to be done so I start showing them. They grab some wire (they all love wire) and secure part of air intake that had cracked, allowing it to be secured to the bike correctly. We ride down the street and find some dinner and a hotel.

Clear Mind, Happy Thoughts

The bike broke down one more time, but this time I had been expecting it. It died the same way it had been dying before, but now I knew the immediate solution. The bike was back up and running in a minute. So either the fuel line was dirty and the dirt was just barely keeping the fuel valve open or it wasn’t fully broken yet and closing it to clean the lines finally killed the valve. Now I knew the issue, we had eight hours left of riding total and I didn’t have to worry about if my bike would die for good. With this, I would be able to sell the bike to another backpacker with a clear conscience, which only made me sad because I knew a mechanic wouldn’t give me anything for it, so I was just going to push it into the ocean, because I thought that experience would be worth more to me than whatever a mechanic would give me. We head off through the mountains and the ride is smooth. Winding up and down mountainous curves is again fun with my bike working and we are surrounded by beautiful views.

Rows of dragonfruit trees
Suspension bridge to even more dragonfruit trees.

Two hours of mountains and we hit rows of dragonfruit trees and salt fields. We hit a cool suspension bridge and take off down the road. A short ride and we hit Coco Beach Camp, a beach bar where they have camp sites for travelers. One more hour and we hit Ho Tram Beach.

The sun setting over the dunes of Ho Tram beach

Part of Ho Tram each is covered in MGM Grand and Ramada, an attempt to make a mini Vegas strip. We find a hotel and head to the beach to pepper. The sand is nice but the sun goes down too fast and we end up peppering in front of a restaurant to use their light. We hit some restaurants where they stare at us like zoo animals before finding a small one. The waiter walks over with Google Translate out, the first time this has happened in the three weeks we have been in Vietnam. He takes our order and takes off on his motorbike to get ingredients. We tip him for the extra work and head home.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Personal space does not exist on the roads of Vietnam

We have a three hour ride to Saigon, our last destination of the trip. I have been growing a beard since the trip started, and decided I have had enough. I pull my bike into a little patch of woods and trim the beard down to my usual scruff. Two hours of riding and we hit the chaos that comes with the Cat Lai Ferry. The usual route people take is to hit the highway into Saigon, but we decide to make like locals and take a ferry across the river into the city. As we enter the city, we see what looks like a Vietnamese Chicago, not what either of us were expecting.

Goodbye, Battlecat

We had originally planned on selling our bikes for what we paid for them and then throwing in the nice helmets for free. Looking through the actual market for people selling their bikes, this looks like it would require some work on our part, which is why we gave ourselves a few days. I weigh the pros and cons of getting that extra money, and decide I would rather sell the bike for cheaper and get rid of it immediately. We post the bikes for forty percent less than we paid and throw in the helmet for free. Within a few hours, we have buyers. We wake up, take the bikes for an oil change and run the girls buying the bikes through everything with the bikes. My disdain for the bike has faded and I am sad to see it go. It broke down a lot, but it took me over fifteen hundred miles. We say goodbye and hit some sights.

One of many American vehicles at the Ho Chi Minh War Museum
A picture on the second floor of the war museum

The sights in Saigon are your normal toursit sites, besides the Ho Chi Minh War Museum. That thing where I said Vietnam was the first time I have felt awkward about being American? It got a whole lot worse in this museum. The museum is surrounded by US Military vehicles and the outside has a replication of the prison conditions the Vietnamese were kept it. The first floor is dedicated to other countries protesting America being in Vietnam. The second floor contained weapons and tactics used by Americans. Third was the facts and effects of Agent Orange and the fourth was just a floor of statistics. I would say my intelligence served me well and I learned a lot in school, having a good memory of most of the things that I was taught. Most of the things I learned in the museum, I definitely did not learn in American schools (and I was also conscious that there is a high chance of bias from both sides). A quick chat with my Dad about it, and I decide that is enough history for one day.

My dream gym

I head down the street from my hostel to a gym labeled “MMA Gym” with a rock climbing wall up the outside. I walk in, receiving the normal zoo animal stare. The day price is three American dollars and the gym is five floors of rock climbing walls, ninja warrior obstacles, heavy bags, and standard weight room equipment. My dream gym with a top balcony overlooking the city. A workout with no fans or air conditioning and I hit the hostel to shower.

Wanting to be more presentable for our volleyball camp, I hit up a place to get a back wax, my first professional one ever. It went well before I realized the hostel room’s air conditioning was broken and I would spend all night sweating. I woke up with my back completely broken out. The price of vanity is steep. I book a hotel room closer to the airport and spend the day watching movies in air conditioning before heading to a gaming cafe for a bit.

Our last day in Vietnam, but I am still caring for my back. Grabbed some breakfast and wrote this blog post(meta) while watching some Netflix. New content is released for Apex Legends, so Ryan and I plan to hit a gaming cafe and play that for a good amount of the day, since neither of us will be playing for the next few weeks.

Next, we will make our way back to Koh Phangan for the training camp and to meet up with Aaron. We will relax on the island before Ryan heads home and I head to India!

Using Up My Bad Luck: March 7th – March 13th

Ryan wakes up early for once and heads to volleyball. I decline to do some yoga but am woken back up telling me that there aren’t enough people to play and I have to go. I walk the ten minutes to play and it’s about as good as I imagined. I guess we could use the ball touches before we embarass ourselves in front of Olympians. We grab some breakfast at a place filled with ex pats working on laptops and the waitress is overly impressed at me knowing how to say “noodles with beef” in Vietnamese, which makes me sad about tourism. Off to Hoi An we go.

Fairy Tale Town

This blurry picture is all I got of the beautiful canals of Hoi An.

Hoi An resembles a town in an old fairy tale or a Zelda game. Filled with a ton of shops all identical to each other, like someone designed one and just copy and pasted. It’s all restaurants, souvenir shops and tailors. This is the town to get a suit made for under a hundred dollars and in twenty four hours. As enticing as that sounds, we opt out of lugging suits around on our bikes. We roam the streets and look at all of the tourist spots from the outside. Hoi An missed the memo on tourists wanting pictures of things. The good pictures of the outside are free, but the walk through the things costs money. Easy enough. We sign up for a cooking class and opt for some rest before getting up early for the class.

Ryan confirms he wants to stay vegetarian.
The ferry to the kitchen.

The course begins with a walk through a market and a talk through each of the ingredients, much like our class in Thailand. We take the ingredients on a ferry and ride forty five minutes to the kitchen. When we arrived, we were shown how to grind rice milk which would be used for the batter. Each of us get a burner and are run through making spring rolls, banh xeo (Vietnamese pancakes), beef noodle salad and Pho. Ryan got to learn the vegetarian versions of each and his soup broth was actually a bit tastier. At the end, we all received recipe books and chopsticks to take home. We were given Vietnamese straw hats to wear and put in boats to row back to the van. The woman in the other boat suggested a race, but Ryan and I were in the same boat, so that victory was guaranteed.

Presentation unfortunately does not add to taste.
We are rewarded with the fruits of our labor and passionfruit juice.

After the cooking class, we roamed the streets a bit and each grabbed a knockoff Nike DriFit tshirt for three dollars. I regret not grabbing another because it has proven perfect for the Vietnam heat. From there we took our bikes to a mechanic suggested to us by the man we bought the bikes from in Hanoi. When we arrived, he saw the sticker on our bikes and told us that was his brother. He tightened all of the things we needed and checked our bikes for free. When we offered to buy him food or beer, he hugged us and said goodbye.

From Bad to Worse

My bike was running well. After the cooking class, our next destination was Qui Nhon. This was about a eight hour ride, so we figured we could knock off two or three hours and finish the ride in the morning. Vietnam is filled with random hotels that all basically contain a double sized bed, a bathroom and a tv for about nine dollars a night, so finding a place to crash for the night is always easy. As usual, we took a route that kept us off of the highways and this time it took us down a picturesque dirt road. The bumps in this road were actually remniscent of our time riding in the mountains of Laos.

The roads in Vietnam pale in comparison to the treacherous roads we tackled in Laos. However, our motorbikes are also much less capable than the ones we had in Laos. Not to mention that my luck has been pretty much non existent since leaving the life of paradise that was my week on Koh Phangan. What all of this is basically preparing me to say is this: things kept getting worse. I found a line where the bumps seemed manageable and drove at a slow speed. Upon clearing a large hole, I felt my bag against my back. The bags are secured with three bungees, so their ability to move at all is pretty much non existent. I stopped my bike to see if my bungees had snapped and could feel that they were all in place. I lifted on the bag and the entire rack moved. The rack was bolted to the rack piece of the bike and that had snapped on both sides. I began to laugh out loud as I threw my bag where Ryan’s feet go on his bike and strapped my broken rack to the back of Ryan’s bike. I could see that my rack had previously been welded and the rack broke on the weld lines. Vietnamese children were pointing and laughing. Oh well, Ryan gets to carry my stuff until the next town so we can find someone to weld.

Ryan gets my rack and bag for free.

*WARNING : Mom’s please skip this paragraph *
Shortly after the bag breaking, we hit a narrow bridge over a wide river with people walking across it. Someone was slowly moving their motorbike down the bridge. Ryan and I agreed to push on. The bridge was about as wide as my shoulder, with some barrier poles every few feet. There was a gap between the poles and the bridge, which looked like enough for a motorbike to fall through on either side. As I began to move forward, I remembered how hard the motorbikes are to control at slow speed. The pieces of bridge were not all in line, so you had to navigate bumps as well. This anxiety inducing bridge went on for what seemed like forever. As I reached the part of the bridge that raises for boats, the barrier poles disappeared and there were some screw like poles rising up from the bridge about shoulder width apart. My handle bar clips one of the poles and I shoot a hand out to stop from shooting off into the river. I park the bike and walk back down the bridge to a visibly shaken Ryan. He also almost slipped off the bridge, but with both of our bags. I help pull his extra wide bike through the screw poles and we get off of that nightmare bridge.

If you look close, you can see Ryan on the other end of this horrifying bridge.

We roam the city looking for someone to weld my rack. Not only is finding someone who can weld a difficult task, but getting them to understand what I need is a second difficult task. We find someone who can weld but not until the morning. We hit a few more mechanics who wave us on. We find one that is actively welding and ask. They make a confused face at me and then shake their head yes,. The woman walks away and comes back with a new rack. Duh. We don’t need to weld it, we can just replace it. Making practical solutions under duress is not a strong suit. She motions that it does not have a rack like mine and I tell her it is okay. She puts a hole in the new rack and adds the full back rack. All of this for a few dollars. Easy peasy, we head another hour while the sun is up and find a hotel to sleep in.

We find a hotel on the highway and drop off our stuff. We walk down the highway in the dark to find some dinners and everyone looks at us like we’re zoo animals again. We decide we won’t find anywhere to serve us and hit a minimart. A twelve pack of ChocoPies, two bags of chips and two one point five liter bottles all for three American dollars. The hotel room has Netflix on the television, a rarity in Vietnamese hotels. We smash chocopies and binge watch movies for a few hours. All is right in the world.

Three dollars goes a lot further in rural Vietnam than anywhere USA.

The Myrtle Beach of Vietnam

The ride to Qui Nhon was supposed to take us fifteen hours of mountain roads from Hoi An, but we opted to do half mountain roads and half horrible highway to drop it down to eight hours. We finish the few hours of beautiful mountain roads and soaking in the views and hit the highway. The highway is hot and boring and trucks flight past as you ride the shoulder. This part of the highway was especially bad because the terrain was flat on either side with mountains surrounding. This caused the winding to come in hard across the highway. Driving down this highway required you to lean into the wind, the same way you would if you were turning. Not only is this terrifying as you feel your tires slide around, but when trucks pass you, they block the wind and create their own draft. This requires a lot of focus and induces a good amount of anxiety.

There is no argument about Vietnam’s beauty.

I usually ride in front because my bike is more likely to die and I don’t trust Ryan to pay attention and stop in a reasonable amount of time. I’m a little more neurotic so I check my mirrors all the time. Usually unnecessary but this day, I happened to be looking back at Ryan as the whole front cover of his bike popped off on the highway and exploded on the ground. He grabbed it and we taped it back on. Standard Ryan luck, everything still works but the headlight cover was broken. On we go.

We underestimated the riding time and ran into the night time. We raced the sun to get out of the mountains before it got too dark. By the time it got dark this time, we were in a somewhat civilized area. Shortly after, we hit a stretch of well lit highway and then brightly lit hotels and monuments. We turn off the main road and find our American Rock and Roll hostel. We are welcomed with a beer, which neither of us particularly want, but the gesture is nice enough. We grab some way too big burgers and head out.

We walk down the main road to check out the monuments and city square. We find a large carnival and walk past to find paths filled with small children riding bicycles with bluetooth speakers attached. As we continue, we find a large square filled to the brim with children and teenagers riding motorized vehicles. We keep walking to find that there are a myriad of riding options and they all seem to be free. We chuckle about the lawsuit that would ensue if something similar existed in the states and continued down the street. Outside of the hostel, we were the only Westerners. This was confirmed by the fact that every restaurant we passed, every head in the building whipped around to look at us. We have enough of being zoo animals and head to sleep.

This is only a fraction of what the children can use for free.

We head up a mountain for a beautiful view of the city and the coast and then head back to the hostel to escape the heat. We get oil changes and go looking for haircuts. We find a barbershop and they are ecstatic to have us.

Qui Nhon city and coast views from the mountain.

They offer us a price of fifty thousand dong as the woman in the shop runs up yelling “One hundred, Vietnam!”. We give them the “We know you’re overcharging us for being white” face and they agree to fifty. We sit down and then pretend to cut our hair while other people in the shop take pictures. The guy cutting my hair seems to be the owner and is doing a lot of flourishes, clipping the scissors and tapping things. Ryan’s guy gives him exactly what he wants, my guy basically ignores the picture I showed him. Following the haircut, he asks if I want my cheeks straight razored. I mistakenly agree. A female employee begins straight razoring my cheeks. She begins grabbing my biceps and saying “Massage?”. I laugh and say no. She continues to ask adding “Please”, “Boom boom” and “sucking boom boom” to the proposition. Nope. I am ready for this to be over. After about five minutes, the owner returns.

He returns with a handful of metal tools and a light. He turns my head and puts one of the tools in my ear. He begins pulling out earwax. This is likely the cleanest my ears will ever be. Afterwards, he razors inside. This is too close to my eardrum, I can hear it. Not a fan. Then one of the other employees begins using a deep massager from the eighties on my head, arms and legs. There is a reason they switched from hard plastic to rubber. It was brutal and he was going over the bones in my hands. Fearing that the language barrier would cause more issues, I just dealt with it instead of saying anything. After the haircut, the owner offered a massage from another female employee. Nope. He offers one to Ryan, Ryan loves massages. I say no for him and walk out.

We head to the beach to pepper. The wind is wild and we fly wildly around picking up the ball. We are the only Westerners on the beach so we have an audience. We run some diving drills. A local walks up and motions that he wants to play. We don’t know how to convey no to him, so he peppers with us. He can bump in a desired direction, so it’s good enough. He gets tired and leaves and we continue. Another younger local comes up and speaks decent English. He is in jeans and tells us he hasn’t played in a while. This is never a good sign. We begin and he has much less control than the first local. He was sending the ball wildly around, which makes good practice for diving after unpredictable balls. He alternates between getting tired and watching and sending us running for balls. After a bit, we decide it’s time for dinner and head home.

Easy entertainment.

Oh, The Places You’ll Go

Our ride from Qui Nhon to Nha Trang was some of my favorite riding we have done so far. The coastal road near Vung Ro Bay had ocean to one side and mountain on the other. I personally think it is much better than Hai Van Pass, but Top Gear didn’t go there so nobody knows about it. We grabbed some pictures and a snack near the lighthouse of the bay and took off. We rode all the way down the Hon Gom Peninsula to get some cool shots of the view and then finished the ride to Nha Trang. Otherwise, the riding was uneventful, but here’s some pictures.

The view from my favorite road in Vietnam. This spot overlooks Vung Ro Bay and its lighthouse.
Ryan snaps a picture of the view at Hon Gom Peninsula.

Nha Trang is just a touristy coast city with a beach. As with all the developed beach towns in the Southern part of Southeast Asia, it is filled with Russians. Again, all the signs are in Russian. Everything is expensive and touristy. We grab a ton of Indian food and Ryan heads home to do some work. I head to the mall to see Captain Marvel. Six dollars American for a movie ticket, cup of Coke Zero, bag of M&Ms and a small blizzard. Life is not bad.

The following day we hear about police traps confiscating foreigners motorbikes in tourist areas of Southern Vietnam and change our plan of going to Mui Ne, where the most famous trap is. As we learn this, we grab breakfast and see someone have their bike confiscated with our own eyes. Time to get out of dodge.

Stressed Out

The ride from Nha Trang to Dalat offers a pass more treacherous than Hai Van Pass and I am excited. My bike is not as excited. We have come to the conclusion that some part of my fuel system is dirty and that is what is causing the issues. It breaks down again. I begin the cycle of moving it and letting it sit and trying to get it started that has worked the previous few times it has broken down. We are sitting in the sun in the middle of the highway. A local comes and tries to get me to follow him to a shop, he is not grasping that the bike won’t start. Again, he uses his foot to transport me a few kilometers to a shop. I try to explain to him that the fuel system needs cleaned, but he runs the bike and exclaims that the spark plug needs replaced. I replaced it a while ago but he seems confident. He also replaces the spark plug cover that is cracked. He then takes us to another shop and adds transmission oil, which the bike had none of. We are still in the middle of nowhere, so at the end, he offers me some exorbitant prices and I haggled a bit. I knock off a small bit, but still end up paying way more than I would if I wasn’t stranded in the middle of nowhere. We see a gas station but decide to wait for the next one.

The treacherous mountain starts immediately and as we get into the clouds, the bike breaks down again. I am not pleased. Actually, I am the opposite of pleased. I get it going again and it is crawling. If we can make it to downhill, I am okay. The road continues uphill at a good incline for twenty nine kilometers. We are far above the clouds. I am very displeased.

The first set of mountains on the path to Dalat.

We finally make it to the downhill part and my bike runs out of gas, or dies, or both. I am not sure. We find some gas at a nearby shop and I get it going. We finish the ride to Dalat and grab some dinner.

We sign up for a tour at our hostel, which we haven’t done since probably Thailand, and I find a mechanic to take my bike before the tour. I wake up at 7am to take it to the mechanic and am waved off by three mechanics. I finally find one by the hostel that will do the fuel system cleaning for much cheaper than the guy who didn’t fix anything. I head back to go on the tour.

Tourist Time

I paid a bit more to rent one of their bikes while mine is in the shop and Ryan takes his. The bike I get has some weak brakes and no mirrors. I miss my broken bike. We head off in a group and the guides show us some cool views.

One of many cool views to start our tour.

We are taken to a small village called chicken village and see some locals working. I don’t take pictures of locals when I am traveling because it seems invasive. Tour guides always offer this, but it’s not for me. Some local kids come and playfully mock our English before we head off.

We got to see how mushrooms are grown in the villages, as well as how rice noodles are made. Then we headed to the famous waterfalls of Dalat. They are good for some pictures but you can’t go in the water so it’s not ideal.

The picturesque waterfalls of Dalat.
The early stages of a rice noodle.

Next stop, we see how incense are made. I am amazing by the precise work done by hand. Each bundle is made into a hexagon by hand, and it is oddly satisfying. One more and we see how silk is made. There are baskets filled with cocoons and machines for boiling them and pulling the silk threads. We are told each cocoon contains about a kilometer of silk thread.

Hand made sets of incense.
One of many baskets filled with cocoons.

The Elephant falls make our next stop. We walk down some paths that are surrounded by some wacky railings that almost make it more dangerous. Tourists make horrible decisions on when to pass others and when to stop and make it even more dangerous. The water is dirt brown, so swimming is definitely out. We grab pictures and head to the pagoda next door to check out some work they are doing on a very large statue.

The giant statue in progress. Those are full sized humans working all over it.

Rice wine and weasel coffee fill our next destination. We see the entire process of rice wine being made and get to try some. The liquid is almost hot, which really brings out the alcohol taste. We then see tons of containers of rice wine filled with snakes and other animals, which apparently can make it more potent. We try some weasel coffee, which is made by feeding weasels coffee beans and then using the beans they poop out. Gross, but supposedly it is very popular coffee. We try it, and I think it tastes like poop. In its defense, I think all coffee tastes like poop, but I wanted to be able to say I tried it. I toss a bunch of condensed milk in and then it’s perfect. Across the street, we find a restaurant serving cricket. We see the insane number of crickets they have and the guide orders two plates. With just toothpicks and vietnamese sweet and sour sauce, we make the crickets disappear and wash it down with rice wine.

Rice wine with cobra.
Drip weasel coffee, a delicacy, I guess.

It starts to rain, but we endure to hit a flower garden and see some more views. This concludes our day as tourists so we head home. The hostel holds a family dinner of Vietnamese noodle soup and I head to the gym next door. Vietnamese gyms are usually filled to the brim and there is a general sense of chaos with everyone just using things and leaving them wherever. Workout done, time to socialize.

Our final view of the tour.

We head to the Maze Bar, a five story bar that is filled with a maze. Each floor is filled with tunnels and stairs randomly leading you around. The front part of each floor contains a bar area, so we hop in and I lose Ryan almost immediately. We end up finding people from the hostel and hanging out with them. They tell us they are going to another bar to get a free shot for staying at our hostel and we agree to join. This bar is standard party backpacker haven. Drunk Westerners sucking Nitrous Oxide out of balloons. We ask a few and none of them seem to know why it makes them feel the way it does. For the uninformed, it is the same as Whip-Its in the states. None of them know they are inducing brain damage. Awesome. We head home.

The tiny corridors of Maze Bar.

We stay in Dalat two more days before heading to the coast and then Ho Chi Minh City to sell our bikes and head back to Thailand!

Two Wheels, No Luck : February 28th – March 6th

I wake up and notice my stuff is the level of damp that is usually attributed to something spilling. I climb down from my bunk, which I guess is closer to the height of a volleyball net than a normal bunk bed, and grab my bag. Damp, as well. I walk outside and notice the morning dew has covered everything in water, so the doors must have been open the room and let the water in. A necessity in the quick stopover type travel required for our time limited motorbike trip through Vietnam is that anything wet be dry before we leave for the next city, so this doesn’t help. I shrug it off as beyong my control and head outside for breakfast.

Back to Being Tourists

For the most part, the maximize the use of our time by shooting from place to place in a city to try to see as much as we can. In Trang An (the area of Ninh Binh where the cool stuff is), we find five or six suggested things and estimate we can do about three of them before we run out of sunlight. We start with a popular boat ride through some caves.

Skull Island Views

The problem with doing very touristy things lies in their objective. The experience needs to be simple enough that anyone can do it, so it essentially amounts to being herded through an experience for however long they decide it should take. That is not ideal for maximizing the use of your time. We are given a choice of four routes, two of which contain a filming area for the movie Kong: Skull Island, but we choose the route with the most caves.

The caves get pretty low

We hop in a boat with two British girls and a small Vietnamese woman rows us down the river. Normally, Ryan and I do not hesitate to do physical labor, but we are far past doing labor when we have paid tourist prices for things. We soak in the view of the limestone karsts as we head into caves. Each passage through the caves requires precise navigation from our guide and usually reminds me how grateful I am that yoga has made me flexible enough to fully fold forward as rocks narily miss me. As we weave in and out of caves, we stop off at small temples.

The downside of the ease provided by the touristy activities is that we are stuck in the boat long after we have fully taken in the views. We have no option to speed the trip up. Nevertheless, after we finish, we thank our guide and speed off to Bai Dinh Pagoda.

One of the view shots of our bikes

We arrive to the gate that Google has marked as Bai Dinh Pagoda and it is closed, but we see some nice views and decide to stop off to take some cool shots of our bikes. Afterwards, we roam around until we find a parking lot. Everywhere in Vietnam, you have to pay to park. The place to park is a decent walk from where we want to actually be. A short walk takes us to a ticket office where they offer to give us a ride in an electric car through the pagoda or to go down a road and just walk it. They say it is about three kilometers, so we opt to walk.

The pagoda was almost worth the walk

The initial walk is through a gauntlet of little shops selling the same stuff as you walk all the way down. We walk up a long, gradual slope until we reach the Bai Dinh Pagoda and grab some pictures. Honestly, we thought this was the only attraction in the complex until we looked over and saw a giant Budda statue over on the hill. We walked up some stairs and saw some signs for other things. We continued moving from attraction to attraction until we reached the area with signs that the electric car could drive us back. It was about a dollar to not have to walk the three kilometers back, and it went through a perimeter road that let us see some other things, including a beautiful garden area they had made around the perimeter. Just a bit more tourism and we could call it quits.

The dragon silhouetted against the sun

The next ride took us back past our homestay to a mountain called Hung Mua. After some touristy shops and restaurants, there is a set of stairs leading up to two viewpoints, one with a pretty cool dragon on top. The steps were all uneven and there were more than a few of them, but a little quad burning never killed anyone. As we reach the top, we see people in full wedding attire up there taking pictures. Kudos for not sweating through that stuff. As we reach the top, we see plenty of people have climbed up to the dragon. It doesn’t look particularly safe, but I climb up to get a view of the sunset. Other tourists are trying to push past each other near the dragon, where there is about enough room for one person on either side and a straight drop down if something happens. We head back down the mountain and go home.

I acknowledge that we have a timeline for the trip and want to see as much as we can, so I sit down with dinner to map out our desired route and figure out things like driving time and distance between cities. With this information, I figure out what days we should be arriving in each city, when we will need oil changes and how many days we can stay in each city. This takes significantly longer than I had planned and I realize our next day of driving will be about ten hours to our next destination, our longest day of riding. So to sleep I go.

Jumping in the Deep End

Our first big day of riding being the longest day was not particularly ideal. The route I had mapped was a scenic one that kept us off of the highway (QL1) because that’s boring and pretty dangerous with how wild the trucks are. About two hours in we stop to check out a UNESCO world heritage site and then continue through. A few more hours of riding and we stop for lunch. We get some delicious fried rice Vietnamese style and see some signs for “Happy Full Month” with what looks like a birthday cake. A Vietnamese man at the table tells us the party is for him and offers us some beer. We drink with the group before heading back onto the road. A few more hours of riding and we hit some beautiful mountains but it’s starting to get a bit dark.

We have about an hour left, so we decide to power through. We stop for gas and it gets darker faster than we anticipated. We continue and everything turns to black, the headlights don’t do too much. As we continue through the mountains, it starts to get colder. So now we can’t see and we are shivering. Going faster makes us colder, so we are torn at what speed to move at. Nearing one of the many sharp turns, I see a dark figure move from the left and realize it is a cow running into the road. I slam on my brakes and swerve around the cow at the last second. We go a little further before I motion Ryan to stop. The cold and darkness has significantly decreased our speed, so our estimated arrival is getting later and later. As we decided to find a hotel, a light turned on and a dog ran out of a house towards us. As we took off, I looked behind me to see the dog just barely missing the back of my bike.

We hadn’t seen any civilization in about thirty minutes, so the hope of a hotel felt slim. About two hundred feet after the decision was made, we see the sign for a hotel. We pull in, the owner locks up our bikes and offers us dinner. We put all of our stuff in the room while he prepares dinner. I head out of the room to get food and the owner is sitting with another man. The man reaches for a handshake and as I reach out my hand, the owner is typing into Google Translate. Out of his phone comes “This is a Vietnamese Police Officer”. Welp, this is the end of our journey, I guess. Technically, it is a little less than legal for us to be riding bikes through the country since it is close to impossible for a non Vietnamese citizen to get the necessary license. The owner then informed me that the officer was her to fill out temporary residence information, something we have to do everywhere, but never with an officer before.

We fill out the papers and are led inside for dinner. The owner pours us shots of alcohol and we take two as a group, including the officer, so we can check that off the bucket list. We eat the traditional meal of rice, morning glory, pork and tofu while the owner’s wife puts us on Facebook live. Enough of that and we finally get to sleep.

Time With Locals

We finish the ride to Phong Nha in the morning and arrive at the hostel just in time for the morning information speech. The hostel employee runs through pretty much everything to do in the area. We had already decided to check out some of the caves while we got oil changes because some of the best caves in the world are located in that area. It was going to be a pretty pricey day but the hostel offered a group trip to some of the less expensive caves for even cheaper, so we did that. The first cave was a boat ride through and then a walk out an impressive cave. We had sat on boats and seen smaller caves in Trang An, so although more impressive, it felt like more of the same.

Ryan chilling in the cool caves

For the second cave, we hiked up about four hundred steps. Catwalks led us through the cavern in a setting that looked like it was ripped out of Gears of War. We made our way back to town and grabbed our bikes from the shop and got lunch. The girls in our room had mentioned going to something called the Duck Stop so we decided to head there.

Google led us to a bumpy dirt road and we found the dirt road. The first sign as you enter reads “Donald Trump’s Office”. We parked our bikes and an eleven year old Vietnamese boy told us to sit down. He cracked open some peanuts, grabbed a few pepper pellets and a red powder and put it into my hand. Delicious. He handed us a menu and told us to pick an option. The available options were one free drink, one traditional vietnamese pancake, a garden tour with a view, a duck massage and riding a water buffalo through the rice fields. The choice was to do all of them, or to do everything except the water buffalo. For about two dollars difference, we chose the water buffalo.

The boy led us through the garden, explaining what everything was while we tried to guess at what vegetables he was trying to say when his impressive level of English happened to fail him. After that, he gave us some oddly feminine shoes and a straw hat and sent us into an area called “Duck Heaven”.

Duck Heaven

We entered and were greeted by at least twenty ducks. The man in the area had each of us stick out our hand with food in it and lower down to the ducks. As the ducks ferociously slammed their beaks into your hand, it created somewhat of a massage. Then he had us do a few more tricks before having us hide food under our feet while squeezing them together. The ducks again smashed their beaks towards the food creating an intense massage. As a finale, the owner showed us how to hold the ducks and got a cool slow motion video of us tossing them into some water. Now to meet our main man, Donald.

Just posing with my boy Donald

Donald Trump is a water buffalo who lives on the farm and does very little work. He worked on other farms for years before coming to the Duck Stop. I was a bit worried about riding him, after all we had learned about riding elephants, but as I hopped on and felt the amount of muscle, I realized he was unphased by me. I rode him through a bit of water and then did a little photoshoot with him before hopping off.

We looked for our original Vietnamese friend to say goodbye and were told he was at the viewpoint, which he didn’t take us to. So another Vietnamese boy, about eight, took us to the viewpoint to say goodbye. The younger boy was much more playful, so we raced up the hill and joked around as we got up to the viewpoint. He asked for my phone to take a picture, and as soon as I handed it to him, he found a game and started playing. Impressed, I taught him how to play the game. On the way down, Ryan offered him a piggyback ride, but he opted for my back instead. A quick farewell to our new friends and we were off.

We hopped in the pool at our hostel and searched around for food. The hostel had a pretty decent looking burger, so I chose that and we grabbed some drinks while making friends. It has been interesting throughout our trip that every country we have gone to, we see patterns of people from the same countries. Thailand was Dutch, German and Russian. So far Vietnam has been mostly Americans and British. While we ate and drink, our table slowly filled up with British people until it was the only accent you cold hear. After a bit, we decided to get some sleep for our ride the next day.

Adaptability

The coastal roads aren’t as paved

Our ride to Hue was to take about nine hours, plus we wanted to stop at the Vinh Moc tunnels, which would add about an hour and require some highway driving. After some research and finagling, I managed to find a route that took us through the beautiful Phong Nha area for a bit before shooting us down the coast to Vinh Moc and then further to Hue with minimal highway time.

The Vinh Moc tunnels were an amazing experience. Essentially an entire village lived in and out of the tunnels for about six years while Americans dropped seven hundred tons of bombs. Again, these sites are sort of an awkward situation to be American, but after learning our biased history of the war, it’s interesting to hear theirs. We have been saying it would be interesting to see what a non biased country teaches about the war. Regardless, the tunnel is made of clay, covers several kilometers and consists of three levels. The first level contained meetings and higher ups, it was only about ten meters deep. The second level was about seventeen meters deep and contained all of the living quarters, each of which consisted of less than a three square meter room for an entire family. Each level contained slides down to the next level in case of a bomb dropping, they could get deeper into the tunnels. The third level was used for storage and was over twenty meters deep. These numbers did not calm me.

Ryan in a tunnel stairwell

Descending into the tunnels was quite the experience. Vietnamese people are a bit shorter than me, so the ceiling of most of the tunnels was about five foot six inches, Crouching required. The bigger rooms were of a height that Ryan and I could both stand comfortably, but the through tunnels definitely left some clay marks on my shoulders. About an hour of being led through the tunnels by an English speaking guide and hearing about the not so nice things America did and we were headed back down the coast.

A Fool And His Money Are Soon Parted

Hue looks like any tourist city, a sharp contrast to most of Vietnam

We arrived in Hue and checked out the city. For the long rides through Vietnam, we see no other white people and get to see the real culture. Every city that we are suggested to stop in is filled with westerners brought in by the buses. Most of these people will likely never see the real Vietnamese culture. Hue reminds me of what it would look like if you just told someone what tourists like and they tried to recreate those ideas without ever seeing them. It works though, it was filled to the brim with tourists. We spent the first night checking out the city and making a plan for hitting the tourist spots the next day.

I woke up early and Ryan wanted to sleep, so I decided to hit some of the spots alone. My bike wouldn’t start, so I decided to kickstart it. Kickstarting wasn’t working. It was already hot, so I was already sweating. Vietnamese people are helpful, which is great most of the time, but some of the time, they are a bit pushy with their help and the language barrier limits a polite way to ask them to stop. The front desk girl at the hostel came out and proceeded to blast me with questions about the bike that I had already checked. She grabbed the ignition and repeatedly tried to start it, which sounded like it was just making things worse. I finally managed to get her to walk away and another man walked over, looked at my bike and immediately started it. I said thank you and he turned it off, then it refused to start for either of us. He offered to take me to a mechanic.

Frustrated and sweaty, I agree. He pushes my bike into the street, rides alongside it and tells me to get on. He then puts his foot on the bike and then pushes my dead bike through insane traffic with just his foot. A wild experience I won’t soon forget. He takes me to a mechanic and they diagnose a few problems. He tells me an exorbitant price, but at this point, I’m so frustrated with the bike that I just agree to pay it. They tell me it will take an hour. I come back in an hour, mind much clearer, and realize that I wildly overpaid. I ask for the man who spoke to me about the repairs, they say he is not there. I decide to just come back.

I ride about ten minutes, the bike sputters and dies in the street. Again in the sun, my bike will not start. I take it to another mechanic,and thanks to Google Translate, we diagnose a problem that will take a few hours to fix. Frustration increases as our plan to leave the city that day come to an end and I hop on Ryan’s bike to check out the tourist sites.

Three story dragon aquarium
The view from the dragon’s mouth

We ride to an abandoned waterpark and reminisce about Geauga Lake. A three story dragon that used to house an aquarium is now filled with broken glass and graffiti. We snap some pictures and see some more of the park before headng off.

The back half of the monk’s pagoda

We both decided we don’t want to spend money to walk through more temples so we skip some. We head to the pagoda dedicated to Thich Quang Duc who self immolated himself in Saigon to protest the persecution of Buddhists in South Vietnam. The pagoda is beautiful and contains the car he drive to Saigon, which can be seen in the famous picture of his immolation. We depart to grab some roadside lunch and have the locals laugh at our attempts at Vietnamese.

A quick stop to the Purple Forbidden City, which we decide to just drive around since we don’t really want to pay to see more tourist stuff. As we are leaving, we see an entire area filled with American military vehicles obtained during the Vietnam war. We stop to look through all of them and notice all of the signs refer to America as “US Imperialists”, awkward. Enough tourism, time to head home.

Egg coffee, so frothy

We head to a local coffee shop to grab some egg coffee, a Vietnamese treat which whips an egg into coffee. The first sips is a frothy, sweet custard and both of us quickly exclaim our joy at a coffee we both like. As I get about halfway through, I taste a sharp bitterness. Most things in Vietnam are brought to you in a visually pleasing way and then require you to mix them. The coffee was no difference. I had already consumed most of the sweet part, so I mixed the remainder and then suffered through the extreme bitterness of Vietnamese coffee. Lesson learned, time to go get my bike.

We head back to the shop, I pay even more money and grab my bike. It seems to be working, so I ride back to the original shop to get some money back for the lack of repair. As I have a back and forth with the two remaining guys at the shop, Google Translate fails us. A nearby Vietnamese man walks by and talks to the mechanics. Then he informs me that the original man that I dealt with had nothing to do with the shop, took all of that money he said the repairs cost and then paid the mechanic what they said the repairs cost. In all my travels, the first time I have been scammed. I am not happy, but the consequence is low when the buying power of the US dollar is so high here, so I take it as an expensive lesson.

Top Gear Style

The ride to Da Nang contains the Hai Van Pass, made famous by Top Gear as one of the best coastal roads in the world. We whip around sharp turns up the mountain, overlooking the ocean on all sides. We arrive at the top and find buses of tourits. We find a road that goes to an even higher vantage point. My usual downfall kicks in and I get overzealous about how well my bike has been working. We begin going up the steep incline and my bike is chugging along before coming to a complete stop and refusing to start again. We leave my bike and Ryan’s takes us both up the hill.

The view from the Hai Van Pass

The view is nice but it is just higher, not worth killing my bike. I make it back to the bike and ride it straight down the hill with no engine. I sit there and try to kickstart it before another traveller comes over and says he is a mechanic. He walks up and just starts the bike. I tell him he’s not the first person to do this and he runs me through a checklist of things that usually fix a bike not starting and then we take off down the hill to Da Nang.

ExPat Heaven

We get into Da Nang and hit Rom Casa, a two building shipping container hostel, complete with shipping container pool. As we explore around Da Nang, we find it is a city size similar to Cleveland. Ex Pats find it as a good mix of culture and metropolis, so there are quite a few. We grab out ball and hit the beach. We pepper in the extreme wind and finally get some touches in for the first time in weeks. The sand here is nice and volleyball is more fun than tourism.

I could watch precision pizza making all day

For dinner, we hit up a place called Pizza 4p’s, which looks very upscale. A japanese restaurant that makes pizzas with such precision that we sit at the bar and watch them make pizzas for almost two hours. Although it looks extremely fancy, three pizzas and a pot of tea cost us about twenty American dollars. A short ride from the pizza place we hit the dragon bridge, a beautiful center of the city. The bridge supports make a giant dragon that changes color every few minutes and on weekends and holidays, it shoots fire and water. We find a volleyball group and agree to play at 7am.

What else is new?

We go and play some volleyball, which isn’t the best we have played on the trip but it is better than nothing. After playing, we find a row of burger places and hit the highest rated one. Easily one of the best burgers I have had on the trip, but I am still hungry, so we hit the cheapest of the burger places and I grab another good one. Da Nang caters nicely to the western taste buds.

Ryan heads to a vegetarian restaurant while I make some friends at the hostel bar. One of the guys I meet is another American, and after a bit of conversation I found out that he had been traveling with one of the guys we had been hanging out with on Koh Phangan and had been in contact with to set things up for when we return at the end of the month. The world is oddly small.

I invite him to come with me to try some Mi Quang noodles, a local specialty. We eat and discuss similar career interests before the other people we met invite us to a live music bar. A half Colombian half Israeli duo plays covers on a guitar and saxophone while we hang out with the local ExPats. Getting away from the tourism is pretty relaxing.

The following day we will head to Hoi An, back into the tourism, and then further South.

A Long Way to the Bottom: February 21st – February 27th

The View From The Top

Malibu Beach

Due to some miscommunication (and definitely not Ryan leaving his computer on US time), we set our return to Bangkok a day earlier than we needed it. We had the perfect set up in Koh Phangan, and neither of us were fans of Bangkok, so we ate the cost of the non refundable ferry/bus/train tickets and booked for the next day. With our extra day, we grabbed scooters and headed to Malibu Beach. This is the location of the other group of volleyball players on the island. Far from the tourism of Haad Rin beach, a low key area held a beautiful landscape and a much quieter beach area. We checked out the two courts, one free near the water and one for reservations surrounded by trees near a restaurant. The sand was nice, but we didn’t have time to play. Our new friend Florian was about to play at a ping pong tournament nearby.

Ryan and Florian walk into Carpe Diem

We took off for the ping pong tournament, had to make an emergency stop for gas and a necessary 7/11 run, so we ended up arriving right as his game finished. The ping pong tournament took place at a little boutique homestay called Carpe Diem. As we walked up the finely manicured gravel path, we saw a small pool and bar and private rooms. As we turned the corner, we saw the ping pong table and a group of people, some familiar faces from volleyball. We wanted to just watch some points, but the level of play was so high that we ended up staying to watch through finals. Afterwards, Maria offered to show us a more private beach on the island.

The private beach provides a solid sunset view

A short ride and we walked down a long set of stairs to a private section of beach with open water, just in time for sunset. The view was insane and Maria and her family offered to teach us to play Kubb, a Swedish lawn game where you throw wooden rods to knock over other wooden pieces. We played two games (I won both, Ryan did not.) and enjoyed the sunset. Hunger kicked in, time to have Indian for the first time since it poisoned me. Last night of beach, so we grabbed some drinks on the beach and laid around under the moonlight until it was time to get up. Florian wanted us to come play doubles, so we had to get moving early.

In the morning, we took off to Malibu Beach and played some doubles while Maria grabbed some more cool shots. Then we took off and returned our scooters, checked out of our hotel and haggled a songthaew to take us to the ferry port. Two hours on a ferry boat and then we got into a mini bus to the train station. Like a fool, I made a comment about this being the first public transportation that went well and arrived on time. We had a few hours to burn before our train would come.
We were in an area entirely devoid of tourists. Local markets were strewn about. Somehow, Ryan found the nicest coffee shop I have ever seen and we posted up to use their electricity. While we charged, we took turns roaming the shops. We got entire packets of homemade snacks for ten baht, which is about thirty American cents. Ryan had been looking for a power bank, so he picked up a pink one with a dog on it for super cheap and I tried out a bunch of different food. An hour until our train, time to head to the station.

Around this point, I messaged Dani to tell her how great my week in Koh Phangan had been, and that I was genuinely worried that things were going to well and something had to go wrong. We arrived early to the train station, asked a worker where our train would come and began to wait. Our train arrived slightly behind schedule and we got to the door. People began unloading things so we continued to wait. A woman stood in the doorway. The train made some noise, so we decided it was time to get on. The woman shook her hand no. We showed her the ticket and she shook her hand no again. The train left. We asked a guard, he called over the walkie, the train slowed down and then continued moving. He took us to the ticket counter.

I explained the situation as best I could with the language barrier, but it wasn’t going well. They wanted us to buy another ticket and we just wanted them to let us on the next train due to the worker telling us no. All the while the next train is arriving. We are basically arguing at this point so I just asked to buy a ticket and will handle the money after. She tells us there is no second class (padded seat with fan/air con) for the next three trains. We tell her just to give us a ticket. We get on the bus with the locals. It is just benches in an open train car. Each seat is wide enough for my butt to dangle over the edge with my head against the wall. The sound of the train is so loud that I can’t hear music with noise cancelling headphones on. I chuckled as I message Dani that I was correct.

The Snowball Effect

We power through the train ride. I don’t necessarily know that I slept at all on the twelve hour night train ride, but I do know that I was unconscious. We arrive in Bangkok and feel a tinge of happiness. They opened a Taco Bell in Bangkok since last time we were there. We head there and get some food. It’s like a knockoff of American Taco Bell, but good enough. Thai people love spicy, so of course their Taco Bell comes standard with Fire sauce on everything. A coworker from Rockwell tells me she is staying a few minutes from where we are staying.

I walk over to see Robyn and check out where she is staying. She is in Southeast Asia doing some work for Rockwell. The points she’s accrued from all the travel have her in a two bedroom suite, a little different from where I am staying. We trade some Asia stories and I think about what I walked away from. She heads to the airport and I go get Ryan.

Ryan is pleased with the gaming cafe

We have seen Bangkok and the sand courts don’t have any play going on, so I suggest we find a gaming cafe. We search google results for a few hours, all to no avail, but we find one as we are about to give up. Fifty baht for three hours, less than two American dollars. We spend a few hours playing Apex Legends and then head home. I mention that the sleep on the train probably left my body all wonky, so I am worried about waking up for our 7:40am flight.

I wake up at 8:10am, I head over to Ryan’s bed, he’s asleep too. I tell him I slept through four alarms, he tells me he never even set one. We book another flight and I head out to get breakfast, call my dad and finish the blog post I was days late on. I come back in a better mood and we hit Taco Bell a second time. Then we head back to the gaming cafe. We come back early and get some sleep. A short flight and we arrive in Hanoi, Vietnam.

Good Morning, Vietnam

We make it through immigration and take a local bus to Old Quarter and throw our stuff at our hostel. Now we begin our search for our rides. We are looking for Honda Wins to take all the way down Vietnam, over two thousand kilometers. Like always, I do a ton of research. There are no real Honda Wins in Vietnam. You can find some reliable Vietnamese and Indonesian copies and some unreliable Chinese copies. We scour Facebook, Craigslist and local shops looking for the best deals. We find some bikes for under three hundred dollars and decide to grab them the next day. We check out the city a bit, but after becoming so comfortable on the islands, the city immediately makes me irritable.

Vietnam streets are wild

We head over to the shop that offered us the best deal. The woman working tells us the bikes are at her other shop and they will send someone to get us. Silly us, we thought they would send a scooter and we would each ride on the back of a scooter. This is Vietnam. We both got on the back of one scooter. No mirrors and the driver never turned his head. We whipped onto the highway and blew red lights. Arrived in one piece for the owner of the shop to tell us that the deal the woman offered us was insane. Tried to talk us into the real prices, but we were good. We did some more research. Most of the people posting blog posts about buying the Vietnamese bikes for low prices either got extremely lucky buying from other travelers or they were sold Chinese copies with Detech (Vietnamese company) engine covers. We meet up with the English guys who offer to sell us some scooters.

We learned to ride motorcycles in Laos, but we have gotten plenty of scooter experience on this trip. Motorcycles are way cooler. They look cooler, they feel cooler and changing gears feels cool. Realistically though, the scooters tend to be more reliable and we have much more experience on them and don’t have to worry about gears in the insanity that is Vietnam. The bikes the guys offer us have a few more issues than we care to deal with so I message dealers about the scooters.

Rooftop views of Hanoi

The mechanic we were going to take whatever bike we bought has some scooters for sale so we check them out. We look at the Nuovo 3, but for a little cheaper we grab the Nuovo 1 and an Attila. We grab them for a price that we should easily recuperate upon hitting Ho Chi Minh City. We ask that they be washed and have a few things added and looked at and we head back to the hostel. We head to check out the Old Quarter area and grab some dinner. Mostly travelers partying, but there are some cool hidden things. We head to the Skyline bar to check out the view from the rooftop bars and then head home.

On the Road Again

We wake up and check out of our hostel. Quick taxi to the shop and we grab our scooters. Ryan cracks a joke about how no matter what bikes we got, his would be fine and mine would have problems. That has been the theme since I met him. We leave the shop and go grab some gas. My blinkers are already not working. Oh well. We find some helmet shops and I go back and forth on the three quarter helmets I have been wearing or a full motorcycle helmet. After feeling around, we both decide on modular helmets, a full sized helmet with raising face shield, where the bigger place part covering the chin also raises. Heavier than the other options, but a good mix of safety and breathability.We head on our way to Ninh Binh.

Taking the highway, Hanoi to Ninh Binh is about two hours. The highway is where all the cars and trucks go wild. We stick to the other roads and it’s about four hours. Around the two hour mark, we stop to grab food. The area we are in doesn’t seem to use much English, which is where I usually just use a smile. Ryan doesn’t have that luck, he uses Google to tell them he is a vegetarian. They laugh at us a bit and bring him a large plate of vegetables and fried tofu, me a plates of fried eggs and what I assume is pork, and some rice to share. Ryan grabs a Red Bull and we devour the plate full of food. The whole thing ends up costing us about three American dollars. We head off the next two hours.

Vietnam looks like someone told designer to use all of the available landscapes to make the most beautiful thing they can imagine. It’s all rivers and mountains and rice paddies. I lead the way and every few seconds think “I wonder if Ryan wants a picture of that”. Even if we stopped every five minutes, we would still miss pictures. We stop once or twice and make our way to Trang An. Hidden among small mountainous hills similar to those found in Halong Bay, we find our homestay. Ryan informs me that my rear lights have not worked the entire time.

I head to a nearby mechanic and they fix my blinker and lights in under ten minutes for less than two dollars. We take off to find an ATM. About a kilometer later, I feel something give, my bike slows and my throttle has no resistance. Ryan is leading and continues to the ATM, I sit in the dark and text him what happened. I figure it is the throttle cable and start walking the bike back to the shop. This is standard, I just left a shop and this happens. I walk the bike back the kilometer in the dark. Ryan shows up and begins to crack jokes and ride behind me. As we arrive, the shop is closed. Ryan rides around to find another shop and the shop workers begin to leave the shop. They recognize me and fix my now busted throttle cable. In starting up the engine, it floods and kickstarting is required. He tells me the price and I just hand him a handful of money for working on it after they closed. My total for the two repairs is still under four American dollars.

We head home and decide to stop for dinner. Ryan sees a restaurant with a sign with the word that means vegetarian, so we stop. He orders what he thinks is vegetarian rice and I get goat with rice on recommendation for our waiter. The food arrives and Ryan gets what looks like rice crispies and some soup. I get a sizzling plate full of goat and garlic, and a big bowl of white rice. Ryan dips the rice into the soup and eats a bit before asking me to try the mushrooms. I have eaten a good amount of mushrooms in my life, and these mushrooms are definitely beef. The karma for teasing me about my bike has come quickly. I eat my food with a smile and Ryan tries to figure out what else to eat. We get up to pay and realize this restaurant is about six times more expensive than all of the other ones we have seen. A reminder not to follow Ryan places.

We head back to the hostel where Ryan gets more food and I get some Oreos. We make some plans for what to do in the Ninh Binh area the following day and what route to take to the next city the day after that and I head to bed to write this post. So meta.

Life’s a Beach: January 31st – February 6th

Hotter Than Hell

The irony of the dubbed “Real Sin City” being as hot as Hell (near the top, if you’ve read Dante’s Inferno) is almost poetic. When we arrived, Google warned us of the number of school closings due to extremely high pollution levels. They are trying many things to counteract it, but there are just so many cars, scooters and people in a small area, it begins to feel futile. We have spent days in the direct sunlight, but you can feel how the pollution traps the heat in the city. It’s like walking through jello, the humidity is overwhelming. Day two of Bangkok and we decide to do some sight seeing. We begin to walk around the city, checking out a highly rated bookstore that is closed when we arrive. We walk to the Grand Palace to check out the hype. A beautiful and massive complex with ornate buildings, but like most valued places in Thailand, knees and shoulders must be covered. We assumed this would be the case, but it’s so hot and we’ve seen so many similar places, we decide the outside views will suffice.

A detailed Wolverine
Two staples of my childhood (ignore the no pictures sign)

A further walk to Chinatown finds us in a big shopping mall filled with Chinese/Japanese culture items. Floor after floor of video game and character statue shop. Bad news for Ryan. He gets to spend about an hour listening to me exclaim all of my favorite characters cast in intricate details at shockingly low prices. A quick shoot around and we find many places that will likely contain meat or fish sauces and not know that it matters and kill Ryan, so he grabs some noodles from a place describing themselves as vegetarian and we begin to head back towards our hostel. I find a little touristy looking restaurant by the river and grab some Massaman and rice as Ryan yells at me for letting him buy the street side noodles. A quick lunch and we head next door to a kitty cafe so Ryan can get his cat fix and we can hide in the air conditioning.

Ryan’s heaven

We head back to the hostel and grab our stuff. We grab a night at a party hostel away from Khao San Road and closer to Nana Plaza. Party hostels in Europe/South America tend to be more of “Get to know all of these people over drinks and then go out together in the city and let anyone not going out enjoy the peace”, whereas our experience in Asia has been more of “Everyone here will awkwardly push drinks at you and yell all night and maybe you can overpay us to take you to some bars”. We arrive at the highly rated hostel and the beds are super comfy and the dorms are separate from the bar area. It’s been a long hot day so I start reading and Ryan takes a nap. The lights flip on and two girls are in our room offering to pour shots in our mouth and telling us that if you go to the bar without pants on, they will give you free vodka. Upon entering the hostel to check in, it was all guys at the hostel check in. Nothing sounds less inviting to me as an adult male than a group of men getting free alcohol for not wearing pants, so I can’t even imagine how offputting it would be if I was a female, especially solo traveling. We pass and they offer us some insane prices on going on a bar crawl later, double pass.

We decide to check out the other go to places for debauchery in Bangkok, Soi Cowboy and Nana Plaza. Luckily, Ryan and I have similar stances about these types of thing. I don’t want to take part, you can’t have my money but I do want to at least see what it’s all about, so we go people watching. Soi Cowboy is a brightly lit street lined with bars. Outside of the bars are scantily clad Thai women dancing and grabbing at your arms to bring you into their bar. Most tourist places in any city in Thailand are filled with white males in bars with young, pretty Thai girls, nothing new. We shoot over to Nana Plaza, a three story structure filled with what amounts to strip clubs. We walk through and evade the grabs into each bar. We pick one and hop inside for a drink. Girls dancing, interludes for solo/duo acts and more Thai girls sitting with white males, convincing them to by the exorbitantly priced drinks. That’s enough for us, there has to be something worthwhile around here.

A rooftop view of Bangkok

We see a sign for a rooftop bar and do some quick research. There’s a super high rated rooftop bar called Octave that is just a short train ride away. We’ve been wanting to take the rail line, so this is perfect. We shoot over and arrive to a Marriot hotel. One of my favorite travel tips is that acting like you belong somewhere will usually get you into most places. “Excuse me, I forgot my keycard in *insert place you want to be*, can you swipe me in?” will get you a lot of places. We head up to the forty fifth floor of the building, where we are greeted with “Dinner or bar?” to which we reply “Bar”. The women motions us to another elevator. Up to the forty eighth floor. The drink prices are insane, but so is the view. In all of Bangkok, we can see a small handful of buildings that are at the same height as us. A quick trot up some stairs and we are at the forty ninth floor, the top, filled with modern lighting and tables filled with nicely dressed patrons. We grab a table and snap some pics of the view. A waiter brings us a menu, no need. We hop to the other side for some more pics and to enjoy the breeze and then head back. One more day until the beach.

Day three, when a trip extends past a week or two, it requires you to live your life as normal. Things like laundry and haircuts have to be factored in. Days to relax and just lay around become treasured. Before I left, I learned to how to give myself the exact style of fade haircut I like, only problem being that there is nowhere in a hostel to cut hair without blasting hair all over everything. That being said, Ryan and I head to a Thai barbershop, show the barbers pictures of us with the haircuts we want and they go off. It ends up costing about four dollars and comes out pretty near perfect for there being no exchange of words. We find a big mall for Ryan to grab some clothing items and for me to check out the movie “Glass”.

Travel In Your Dreams

After the mall, we go on a search for some food, we end up taking a route that takes us the long way back to our hostel. Almost an hour of walking and we fail to find a Thai restaurant….in Thailand. Bangkok isn’t my favorite. We get back to the hostel and I check the route to the bus station. It is 5pm at this point and our bus is at 6:30pm. Google informs me that our thirty minute taxi to the bus station is now just under an hour. Oh no, no time for food. We walk down the street and deal with a few taxis offering us flat rates to the bus station. Word to the wise, don’t ever take those deals. We find one offering to use the meter. We are currently at 5:12pm and the ride has jumped to over an hour. We sit in the backseat as I watch Google slowly increase the trip time and watch our ETA slowly slip past 6:30pm. Online, this is shown as the last overnight bus down to Phuket.

We arrive at 6:40pm and throw the money to the taxi driver and begin frantically searching for the ticket booth for Phuket to exchange our confirmation for an actual ticket. As we walk up, a woman looks at us from a distance and yells “Phuket?”. We head to her and she keeps saying 6:50pm. We tell her “6:30pm” and show her the ticket. She laughs, tells us we are good looking and has the girl behind the counter print us two tickets for the 6:50pm bus. It is 6:50pm then, she tells us to run. We run to the bus. As we walk up to the upper deck of the bus and grab our seats in the front, we remember that we didn’t eat before our haircuts to save room for a good Thai meal after, which didn’t end up happening. We sit on the bus for twenty minutes waiting to leave when we could have grabbed snacks. No luck. The bus takes off. The overnight bus lets us recline and we are right against the front. Pretty terrifying to watch the bus swing around corners and too close to other vehicles in the night from that view.

The view in the day time is pretty cool

At midnight, we hit a rest stop. We hop off to use the restroom, grab drinks and an unhealthy amount of food. As we get back on, I find out I can fully recline my seat without being in the person behind me’s way. Straight to sleep. I wake up around 4am, watch an episode of the Punisher and fall back asleep. I wake up around 6am and realize we are supposed to arrive at 7am so I stay up. Nothing in Southeast Asia runs on time and we have been picking up and dropping off locals, so we arrive at the bus station around 10am. The bus terminal is nowhere near the downtown area, so we hop in the back of a songthaew (converted truck) and get to the downtown area for 15 baht (about $0.50). We hop out near some scooter rental places.

All of the scooter places in touristy areas charge crazy prices compared to the rest of Thailand, but we aren’t rookies anymore. We are staying a thirty minute ride away from the rental places but plan to come to that part of town before leaving the area. We rent two scooters for six days, so we have leverage as far as bargaining. We grab the scooters at 75% of their usual rate. Here comes the tricky part, we have our entire bags with us and the scooters have no storage. Time for those bike lessons to be worth it. We throw our bags on our back and whip through the traffic, weaving around cars stuck in traffic like some real locals. We arrive at our beachfront hostel and drop our stuff. We have noticed that the hotter an area, the less likely the common areas of the hostel have fans/air conditioning, and this is no exception. We head to the beach.

Remember: No Russian

The water is a blue that looks almost fake. The sun causes the sand to feel like hot coals and it stays about eighty five degrees. We hop in the water and it’s the perfect temperature. Just a little cool. The sand underneath is soft with seemingly no debris. I don’t think I have mentioned it in any of these posts, but after realizing that everyone else traveling is bilingual, we decided to pick up some Russian to have a second language to discuss things in when we need some privacy in public. As we walk down the beach, all we hear is Russian. It seems everyone we encounter is Russian. The restaurants and stores all have signs in Russian. We are on the southern coast of Thailand. We do a little research and find out Phuket has been less than affectionately nicknamed “Little Russia” due to the high number of Russian tourists.

As we got off the bus, my stomach felt like I might possibly die. Drink some water, eat some food, no luck. Food poisoning again? Perfect. We see on Facebook that there is volleyball in the afternoon on the beach we are staying at. I’ve been through worse for things I like less, I self induce some sickness relief and go swim in the ocean, body feels much better. Off to the beach we go. Some doubles but mostly games of threes, which is uncommon anywhere we have ever been. We sit around and wait for our chance to get on a court. With all the Russian we have learned, we haven’t gotten to “Can we play?” or “Does anyone have next?”, homework for later. We wait around like shy children. We finally get our chance to get on the court and realize that no one is going to warm up. We have next to no experience with the FIVB ball, haven’t played in the wind since the summer, haven’t played at all in almost a month and it is humid as hell. The first game does not go well. The court reverts back to the same six people playing. There are a slew of courts down the beach, and no one is letting new people in. A few failed attempts to buy our own ball with no luck. We go swim and head home.

We finally got our own

Day two, we check out a hotel we booked for later in the week that we heard doesn’t match its online pictures. Definitely not, very low quality, time to get a refund. We find a new one that is advertised for gamers, but has high quality amenities at an insanely cheap price. It matches its online persona, life is cool. We zip around on scooters and check out another beach and an awesome viewpoint of the beach we are staying. Back to the beach to track down a ball. We ask around and are told someone there sells balls. Just our luck, he has none with him. A little better luck, he offers to let us come play fours. Usually my selling point is endurance, I don’t get tired easily. Add in a lack of eating, subtle dehydration and an insane amount of humidity, and that all goes out the window. We play for five or six hours and Ryan and I are both unable to stand when they finally offer to let us play doubles. Back to the hostel for some food and rest.

It is hot and I am out of shape, but it is pretty

The player we met to sell us a ball finds me on Facebook. He sees we have a mutual friend in the tournament director for another island and we chat about the tournament. He is playing the same one as us in a few weeks and offers to let us join in on training. We meet up with him and buy a ball. Finally, we can get some unobstructed practice time with this new ball. We practice a bit and head home to take care of some stuff.

Most of the other cities we have been in have been super cheap. Like full portion meals for one dollar cheap. Phuket is insanely touristy, we are paying close to American prices for meals. I decide to track down a supermarket. A quick zip around the city and I find a miniature Sam’s Club. Similar prices to the local marts, but a much larger selection. As a reference, the “English breakfast set” at our hostel is about one hundred baht, or just over three dollars. This set is two pieces of toast, what looks like one egg, two pieces of bacon and tea or coffee. At the hostel, we have a kettle, a toaster and a microwave. I pick up a pack of noodle cups, a bag of Chinese carrots (as thick as my wrist), a loaf of wheat bread, two sticks of salted butter and eight hundred milliliters of chocolate milk for one hundred and seventy baht, or just under six dollars. I remember that I have to carry all of this back on my scooter, time for another learning experience.

This is not what it usually looks like when I sit down to write this stuff

Ryan and I make some dumb decisions but our favorite one is to wait until around noon to go outside and walk around. The sun is out in full force and we always regret. Today, we decide not to do this for likely the first time in over a month and hide at a cafe with a beach view to relax. I worked on this post (super meta) and Ryan worked on some stuff. Ryan decided to continue on his computer and I headed to volleyball.

Like Riding A Bike

It’s been a over a month since we have played with any consistency, the air here is super thick and the ball is completely different, so playing started as a bit disheartening. Plays I would normally make with relative ease had become impossible. My normal Spartan level of endurance had dwindled to a sickening frailty when you add the weeks of sitting on buses, humidity and direct sun. So training has been in order. After a few days, things start feeling like normal. Movements because muscle reactions instead of thought about choices. At this point, we’re playing four or five hours a day. We make some locals friends and feel a little more confident about the tournament coming up.,

Some of the friends we made from volleyball invite us out for barbeque. I am never one to turn down an invitation to get food. Mostly because I love food, but also because it’s always such a joyous occasion to be socializing in. We arrive at the location they sent us and they are sitting in front of table top girls with basins of buttery looking liquid around them. We immediately notice that it is all meat and seafood. Sorry, Ryan’s stomach, but they promise there are vegetables and eggs. The Asian people as a whole seem to have a very fast and loose approach to how they view vegetarianism, rarely seeming to understand that vegetarian dishes shouldn’t be cooked in animal fat or eating the broth of a soup containing meat is basically still eating meat. Ryan has done his best to be diligent about avoiding any meat or seafood, including regularly asking for no fish sauce or oyster sauce to be made with any of his meals (a very common base for Thai sauces). As the grill is loaded up with shrimp for me (even though I have already grabbed myself a plate of meat as I do not really take to seafood), Ryan adds vegetables, noodles and eggs to the surrounding basin. Our friends assure us this is vegetarian but Ryan and I whisper back and forth about his impending demise. He eats the delicious concoction as a eat plates of meat and we continue to socialize.

Like we both want food poisoning

Ryan throws some more food into the water as I begin to cook red meat. The others inform me that I need to add something to the grill to keep the meat from sticking. They begin swabbing it with a chunk of animal fat, double sorry, Ryan’s stomach. The fat begins to dribble off of the red meat I am cooking, cascading down into the liquid, triple sorry. Ryan and I discuss how it is worth it and how it is likely that he has slowly been microdosing meat and seafood this entire trip. A theory to be tested in the morning.

My happy place

We finish up and they bring us a handful food of these tiny colorful cones. Cold to the touch, popsicles, we assume. Rip them open and the consistency feels like that of tapioca bobas. Each flavor is better than the last. One of our friends walks over with a bowl full of ice cream. Sorry abs, we have found all you can eat ice cream. Two bowls of ice cream and about fifteen jelly popsicles later and we all pay and get ready to leave. After a short conversation, we realize we will likely not get a chance to play with our new friends. We exchange social medias and bid them farewell.

This Is Sam Luck

One of the first days in Phuket, a couple was leaving our hostel to go to the nearby party area. They were quoted five hundred baht for a taxi which would take them fiften minutes. This is equivalent to about seventeen American dollars. Their other option was to take a local bus for less than one hundred baht, but would take two hours. Them being two travelers with big bags, I couldn’t really help, but wasn’t pleased with the extortion of travelers.

A roommate of ours was heading to the area and I could hear him being quoted a similar price. An exorbitant amount for a long term traveler. He was just one guy with two smaller bags. Time to rack up some good karma points. We offered him to hop on the back of Ryan’s scooter with his smaller bag on his back while we strapped his bigger bag to the back of mine. My first experience with riding with a strapped down bag just to be ready for future travel. A quick fifteen minute ride to save him a handful of money and we checked out an area of the island that we didn’t see. He paid for our lunch and we parted ways to go play volleyball.

On the last day of the week, we moved to a nicer hotel. One geared towards gamers, which is funny given Ryan’s and my own penchant for wasting hours gaming, but with their amenities and competitive price, it was a no brainer. Three pools, big rooms, a rooftop terrace and a gaming room, luxuries we haven’t seen in a while. The top floor contained murals of Overwatch characters, a PS4 with new games, a Nintendo switch and rows of gaming rigs with peripherals, some even including streaming equipment. I guess gaming will be required at some point.

We went to pick up a friend from the harbour and Ryan met to bring the bag back and she got on the back of my scooter. As we started the thirty minute journey, a local stopped me, pointed at the exhaust on my scooter and made a concerned face. The exhaust and handle bars of my scooter shine with a case hardened paint job, so I thought he was referring to that. He began to point more furiously at the back and as the look of confusion on my face increased, he grabbed the back tire. I asked Ryan to take a look and he assured me everything was fine.

As we rode, I knew things like sharp turning would be difficult, as that requires a precise shifting of the body weight, and now there is another body at a different location on the bike. As we took the first sharp turn, I feel the back tire attempt to go straight. When turning, if you apply throttle, the back tire wants to go forward and the front tire is what makes it turn, so I assume the added weight to the back tire causes this scenario. From then on a begin to take the turns a little more carefully. Then I begin to feel the back tire sliding on small faults in the road. It’s okay, only fifteen more minutes to ride. Then the bike starts kicking like a wooden rollercoaster that is far past its maintenance point. I pull into a nearby parking lot and see that the tire is entirely flat. Ryan’s diagnosis has failed me.

Ryan comes to get our friend while I attempt to find a motorbike shop as several locals give me entirely separate directions. Without the added wait, the bike is basically hopping with each rotation of the wheel. I go a few minutes down the road to where Google says there is a local shop, closed down, damn. I stop in a nearby hotel and they inform me it is a ten minute ride to the closest place. Ten minutes on a functioning bike, I bet. I start riding and realize my little, hoppy, no tire scooter has to take me down this main road. Cars are stopping in front of me, scooters are whizzing around, and the normal dexterity allotted by riding a scooter is completely removed without the back tire. About ten minutes of white knuckling my handlebars and I get stuck behind a stopped car as everyone refuses to let me go around. I look at the woman next to me and point to my tire and ask where to get it fixed, she yells twenty baht at me. Damn you, language barrier. A nearby man comes over and points in the direction I was headed and says five minutes. Five more minutes? So I am half way. I go around the car and another block down I see the shop. I have never been happier for someone to give me false information.

I roll into the shop and point at my tire. The young Thai worker immediately throws the bike on the back stand and pops the tire off. I sit there sweating as he works, waiting to hear what my grand total will be for this little adventure. A quick fifteen minutes and my tire is fixed with nail removed. I pull out my wallet and he says one fifty, which is about five dollars. Awesome. I hand him his money and head back on my now functioning scooter.

Time to relax

A day or so of relaxation and I will be heading to Koh Samui on a bus a day or so before Ryan. I am a bit more neurotic about training stuff so want to get there early. Then the real training starts and we will be gearing up for our back to back tournaments.

The Banana Pancake Trail: January 17th – January 23rd

After a few days of seeing all the same people and hearing about the same travel route frequently, we found out it was affectionately named “The Banana Pancake Trail”. Still haven’t found out why, but I have had a lot of really good banana pancakes for free in the hostels. The past week started our actual traveling and the more two to three day stops in cities and then departing that is more common with backpacking.

Chiang Mai’s More Authentic Sibling

We departed Chiang Mai for Chiang Rai. We only had one day there, so we had to make it count. We woke up to the best breakfast I’ve had so far…for free in our hostel. Banana chocolate chip pancakes, score. We utilized our new scooter skills to make it work. There was a much lower population of tourists around Chiang Rai, so scooter rentals were not as frequent as we had seen in Chiang Mai.

The Singha Lion
One small part of Singha Park

First stop was heading to Singha Park. Singha is a Thai beer with a cool lion logo. We head off for their park and saw their giant golden lion. We grabbed some matcha ice cream and decided to ride through the park. It was acres of perfectly manicured grounds. This also included a cool viewpoint of the grounds, ziplining and rock climbing.

A close up of some of the art surrounding the White Temple
The main temple of the White Temple
The Ganesha building

Next up was the famous White Temple. This temple is the work of famous contemporary artist Chalermchai Kositpipat. The temple is surrounded by skulls hanging from trees and the initial bridge is surrounded by a lake of hands reaching up from the ground. The entire grounds was covered in some really well done dark art. Hidden throughout were some popculture references, like The Ninja Turtles and their master, Splinter. Arriving at the entrance, there is a bench with Iron Man armor made to look like a buddhist statue. A little further into the grounds is an entire building dedicated to my favorite god, Ganesha. Paintings, tapestries and jewelry adorned the inside of the picture-restricted building. Each year Chalermchai paints a new interpretation of Ganesha raising the Dharma. The room is filled with many coins and other artifacts decorated with the image of Ganesha. The golden building was topped with a giant Ganesha statue. On the way out, the gift shop was filled with more Kositpipat art filled with pop culture references, including George Bush and Saddam riding a rocket and Spiderman slinging near the World Trade Centers.

One of the buildings from the Black House

A quick shoot over to the Black House just before it closed to see some crazy architecture and art made out of dead animal parts. The architecture was Gothic style and was mostly made of bones. A lot of it had restricted access, but it could have been because we got there late.

After the long day of being a tourist, we shot over to the local hot spring and enjoyed some relaxation before we had to return the scooters. The ride back was through rural Chiang Mai which was a fun way to test out some finer scooter techniques. Unfortunately, we ended up driving back in the dark which proved more difficult than we expected with how aggressive Thai drivers are. Between us and the scooter rental place was a very crowded roundabout, which required more faith than driving skill but we made it.

The Golden Clocktower

Charlemchai Kositpipat also created a large golden clock tower in the center of Chiang Rai that has a pretty awesome light show at the top of the hour in the evening time. We returned the scooters at 7, so we hopped across the street to catch the show. Music started and the clock tower began changing colors and the Ganesha statue in the center began to raise as a lotus rose from beneath it. The lotus began rotating and then opened before the process reversed. Pretty cool for local art.

We have been jonesing for our own ginger tea since all of the hostels have free hot water but only offer Lipton tea bags and there happened to be a tea shop across from the clock tower so we decided to stop in. As we walked in, I noticed one of my best friend’s college roommate sitting at the table journeying. I haven’t seen her in 5 years and randomly run into her in a tea shop on the other side of the planet. Life is cool. We grabbed dinner and checked out the night market before heading home for some sleep before our big journey.

Slow Ride, Take It Easy

Our new favorite form of transportation

Somehow, I was never able to wake up on time for my 10am job, but I’ve been a very good alarm clock for Ryan throughout this trip. Up at 5am to start our journey, the owner of Grace Hostel was nice enough to also get up that early and make us breakfast and drive five of us to the bus station. A decently long bus ride to the Thai-Laos border and we checked out of our Thai visa and exchanged our Baht for US dollars. I had brought my own, so exchanged it for Laos Kip, but Ryan exchanged his for USD. A quick shuttle across a river and we had to fill out some forms for our Laos visas. They take our passports and I pay for mine. Ryan hands the visa officer the money he had just received from the Thai border exchange and they tell him no. Someone had written “Hawaii, USA” on one of the dollars and they refused to take it. I offered them some of mine, but there was an ink dot, no dice. We tried to exchange it at the exchange office there and same issue. I got out some emergency cash and we got his passport. Pay a big some for our ticket and we’re tossed into the back of a truck with a group and a dog and on our way to the slow boat.

River views

I did an okay amount of research for this, but was mostly going with the flow. They take you to a store beforehand and we got some snacks. At some point, everyone headed to the boat without us so we were one of the last to go. The long tail boat contained three aisles of two car seats each all the way back, with some stair tiered areas. No seats available, we head to the back. A dark engine room filled with supplies and locals and the other tourists unfortunate enough not to get a seat. As soon as the boat started, the room got loud and hot and we were cramped. We paid for a boat trip to be stuck with no view and no breeze. I was raised better. We grab our stuff and head to the front. We post up on the stairs and set my tablet on a stack of backpacks and begin watching movies. Beautiful breeze, astonishing views and we can stand up and move while traveling? Easy choice. Six or so hours later and we hit the halfway point of Pak Beng, Laos.

Morning view from Pak Beng

Pak Beng is an interesting, little town. By all accounts, it seems its only purpose is to stand as the halfway point for the slow boat trip between Chiang Kong, Thailand and Luang Prubang, Laos. A number of guest houses, restaurants and convenient stores line the single street up the hill. Our guest house suggested us a local bar that would serve Laos and Indian food. I am always down for Indian food, but don’t like heading to places suggested by tours/guest houses as they tend to be tourist traps. We checked out all of the restaurants on the street and noticed it was all the same stuff at the same prices. Oh yeah, Laos is a communist country. We head to the bar to eat with people we had met on the boat. The Indian food at the bar was delivered by the Indian restaurant we had seen on the street. We order enough food that they assume it’s for the whole table. Nope, just two Americans.

Making our own space

Day two of the boat trip and we arrive early enough to snag some good seats. This boat had a cargo hold for the bags and two aisles of seats, one three or four seats and one two seat aisle. Bags under and we have another seven hours to check out the views and enjoy the breeze. Our boat arrives about ten kilometers outside of Luang Prabang and a young kid climbs into the cargo hold and starts pulling the bags out alone. All of the tourists are just watching him lift their heavy bags out of the boat. I step up and start helping him move the bags. Passengers are pushing through to stand in the way as they wait to see their bag. This is why people don’t like tourists. They get the last bag up and we hop in a tuk tuk to the city. A short ride with some drunk Englishmen yelling about Baker Mayfield and we arrive at our hostel.

France in Laos

Your favorite adventurers getting some relaxation time

The French colonized areas of Laos, so baguettes and crepes are in abundance in Luang Prabang. The city is pretty light on things to do but we were just passing through. Our hostel was a good place to relax. The popular bar was about a hundred meters from our hostel and the internet said there were sand courts there, but no one updates these things and it’s been gone for over a year. There were some cushion beds on a cliff overlooking the river, so we enjoyed that at least. The following day, we took a tour to the bear sanctuary and Kuang Si waterfalls. The entrance is lined with areas for the bears to hang out. After the bears, you get a view of some pretty majestic blue water. As we hiked up the trail that ran along the waterfalls, we got glimpses of the different tiers of waterfalls. A harder path takes you to the top of the fifty meters of waterfalls. Danger signs can be seen behind the spiked fences from when tourists were able to walk all the way to the edge, but now you can’t even get a view of the falls from the top. We hop in a pool at the top and then make our way down. A little more swimming and we head back.

Bears hanging out in hammocks together
Kuang Si falls

The Canadians we met at the waterfalls wanted to check out a waterpark, so we went on a long walk to check it out. Again, things don’t get updated online, so the park was closed for improvements. Oh well, we had a freezing pool at our hostel. The only thing open in Luang Prabang after midnight is a bowling alley, so we decided to check that out. An interesting place to say the very least. There’s an archery range as you walk in and an assortment of alcohol is sold alongside laughing gas balloons. Two quick games (which I won and tied for first) and we headed back to the hostel.

Statues of monks praying
Laos has some good sunsets

The next day we decided to check out the Phou Si mountain in the center of town and the temple on top. We’re a bit burned out on temples, so a quick run through and a mountain sunset view and we were off to dinner. Everyone makes their way down to Vieng Vang after Luang Prabang and it was closer to our motorcycle lessons, so we booked a bus.

Party Town Revitalized

Our mini van took off at 7:30am, so we grabbed breakfast and got in. The driver was a bit of a mad man but that was nothing new for this trip. I managed to fall asleep for a minute before waking up to us heading towards a sharp turn on a gravel road on the side of a mountain while we were above the clouds. Needless to say, I didn’t get any more sleep on the trip. I was sitting far enough up to get a good view of the driver whizzing past trucks on sharp turns while answering his cell phone, no big deal. Three hours of horror and we arrived in Vieng Vang.

Street view from Vieng Vang

Vieng Vang used to be the place to party in Laos. Hundreds of people would drunkenly tube and cause general mayhem in the city. When death became pretty common due to the high consumption of alcohol and drugs, the local authorities shut down tubing altogether. In the past few years, it reopened with more regulation. The shutting down of tubing killed the tourism in Vieng Vang, and it has slightly recovered with higher quality tourist attractions. This seems pretty easy because the area is the most beautiful we’ve seen so far, so a bit confusing why that attribute seems to be annoyed.

Making friends in the river

We decided to check out the tubing. I have been tubing before in Texas down the San Marcos river and had a blast. It’s mostly just drinking while going down a river. That’s what I thought we signed up for. My stomach was upset from dinner the night before so I was just excitged to sit in a river. Most of this tubing was short stints in the river between long intervals of sitting at riverside bars. The tubing itself and the area were beautiful, but I didn’t come to Asia to be trapped in small areas with drunk white people. Lesson learned we made the most of it.

Patiently Waiting

That’s a week. It feels like months. Ryan and I are both getting antsy to play so will likely maneuver some things to head to the islands early. For now, we have a few more days until we head to Kasi to do our motorcycle lessons and do a short road trip.

The Adventure Begins: January 11th-January 16th

So we made it back from Pai, this time with seats that didn’t make any of us nauseous. This time a new hostel, with a pool and a volleyball net. The ball was the standard hard plastic ball you find in any recreational area. Upon arriving, the first thing we did was change and hop in the pool. Of course it had stone bezels on around the outside, the pool was narrow and the ground tiles were slick, so any movement was limited. People were sitting around the pool, so any time the ball hit the water, someone was mad at us. Oh well, I usually prioritize volleyball over stranger’s happiness. Enough of that and we set off to find some elephant tours. With three of us, we were able to haggle the price down 25% to go spend a few hours with elephants. Then we decided to get some sleep because we had to be up at 7am for elephants. Our 12 person dorm was directly over the bar, which usually isn’t an issue because hostel bars usually kick everyone out by 10 or 11pm. Apparently ours was only staffed by two twenty one year old travelers, so people were down there screaming until about 1am. Luckily, I sleep like a rock. Janey and Ryan aren’t so blessed.

Giant Puppies

Up at 7am, we hopped into a van to head to the Elephant Rescue Park. Thirty minutes later, we got to meet some puppies. Our host, Eak, gave us some more traditional Thai clothing to get muddy, a cotton shirt and the loose cotton tie off pants, a common outfit for Thai experiences. Always a good laugh as they hand Ryan and I extra large versions for our average American frames. A quick change and we throw all of our stuff in a locker besides phones and my waterproof camera. They introduced us to the four elephants, big brown creatures who you could tell saw us as play things and baskets of treats. We were given some treats and the elephants gracefully used their trunks to take them from us. Eak then showed us how to raise the treat so the elephant would open its mouth and you could put the treats directly in. I couldn’t help but feel like I was interacting with a creature from Star Wars, but accepted the otherworldly creature. Next, we were given a basket of sugarcane and a small cleaver. A few forceful taps against the table and the blunt cleaver slid straight through the cane. Ryan and I sped through our baskets and then split an extra basket sitting there, hoping to spoil our new giant friends. To feed the elephants, you had to hide the basket behind your back, take a handful of the split sugarcane and hold them out for the elephant. The elephants were so agile with their trunks that they could tell how many pieces you gave them and would hold out their trunk for more. If you staggered the pieces, they would turn the cane sideways and tap them on the ground to even out the bundle. Some fun pictures of us feeding them and then off to the mud.

Ryan and I feeding our new friend

Eak led us to a big mud pile and told us to take our shoes off. I stepped down into the pit of what looked like solid groud covered in mud. One step later and I’m up to my calves in mud. Thanks for the pants, Eak. Janey hops in and Eak summons two of the elephants. Us three are the only ones in the mud, everyone else in the tour group is just watching. We are standing downhill of the elephants stepping onto the slippery mud, so we’re ready to make moves if one of them loses their footing. Eak shows us how to rub the mud on the elephants and we start covering them. One of the elephants decides it needs to go to the bathroom and a flood ensues. Eak informs us that that is how Chang beer is made, and we’ve been told that before, so I’m not sure if it’s a joke. A quick detour and we’re uphill from the elephants, this time throwing the mud. The elephants start grabbing trunkfuls of mud and tossing it onto themselves. More mud and then off to the river.

It’s good to keep boundaries in a friendship

We grab some little buckets with handles and head into the river with the elephants. About ten minutes of chucking water and one of the elephants lays down so we can wash its back and head. All cleaned off, we head out of the water and are given some bananas. The elephants are eating one or two at a time like they are grains of rice. We say goodbye to our giant puppy friends and head to the showers. Back into our clothes, we sat down to eat some lunch with the puppies we met at the beginning. Back in the van and back to our hostel. Upon arriving, I realize I left my camera in the shower, my only evidence of my new alien friends. I head over to the where we booked the tour and ask them to contact the Elephant Rescue Park. No luck. I assumed they wouldn’t find the item that cost almost ten times what I paid for the tour, but I chalk it up to a donation to the park and one less expensive thing for me to worry about during the rest of the travels.

Fixed Fights

My love for combat sports goes back to as long as I can remember. When we get down to the islands, I plan to spend a week training in one of the many Muay Thai camps, but Ryan doesn’t share my appreciation for blood sports. Luckily with Janey wanting to experience the fights, Ryan agrees to go. I knew going in that Chiang Mai is touristy and the fights would likely be as well, but didn’t know exactly what to expect. We each paid a little over 10 American and headed into the stadium. We were sat in one of the seats in front of one of the many bars surrounding the ring. Fights didn’t start on time so Ryan and I played some billiards on the weirdest pool table I’ve ever seen. The fights begin and I explain a little about Muay Thai to Janey and Ryan. Some lackluster fights to start, then a match between a six foot something Australian and a very tiny Thai guy. With the Australian’s arms being longer than the Thai guy’s leg, it didn’t last long. Now we know the show is meant for farangs, or non Thais. The next fight was two Thai girls, much closer matchup and enjoyable to watch. Next was an Australian guy about my size against a chubbier Thai guy. We thought this was another fixed match until we saw the Thai guy stretching his leg up to his head.

Loi Kroh Muay Thai Stadium

Traditional Muay Thai fights are five rounds, the first round is usually slower and used to feel out the fighters. Rounds two through four are where most of the action happens. Round five is usually the fighters showing respect to each other, and if the other rounds are particularly one sided, they usually touch gloves and concede to much slower fighting. This fight followed that formula. The Thai guy was dodging all of the Australian’s attacks with seeming ease. By the end of round two, the Australian’s left thigh and shoulder werfe just blood red bruises. Rounds three and four were more of a beating, with round four containing some straight crosses that put the Australian on the ground. One even buckled him straight to the ground. After this one, the head strikes and kicks in general came less and less frequently from the Thai. Round five starts, the Australian rushes and throws a few punches that the Thai guy had dodged with ease earlier on and falls to the ground as if knocked out. A quick ten count and the fight is called. The Thai guy leaves the ring and is laughing and having a beer with a friend. Our initial guess of fixed fights was unfortunately correct. A final fight against two younger Thai guys and some joke rounds of blindfolded kickboxing and we were done.

A Shrine Fit For a King (And Queen)

The final thing we wanted to make sure we did before Janey left was check out Doi Inthanon National Park. We saw our hostel was going on Janey’s last day, but haggled around the city and found the same tour for 75% of the price again. Up again at 7am, we hop in a van to head to the park. First stop is a waterfall. A few good vantage points for pictures and a set of stairs that lead you onto the rocks to get closer to the water. A short drive and we are at the highest point in Thailand, 2,565 meters above sea level. Now the trek starts.

We signed up for the two hour trek through these mountains. Through the jungle we go, all the way up to some sub alpine meadows, a weird sight that high up. Some beautiful views and pictures and we walk along the ridge until we can see the Doi Inthanon Pagodas, two large shrines built for the a king and queen beloved by the Thai people. A little further trek and we’re back at the van to head to the pagodas.

Sub alpine meadows near the pegodas
The Enlightenment of Buddha

Upon arriving, you head up some stairs and can go left to the king’s pagoda or right to the queen’s. We started with the king’s, a large brown and bronze structure. Pop off our shoes for the standard prayer practice and head inside. Outside of the standard Buddha statues, the inside of the king’s pagoda contains stone murals of the Four Holy Places of Buddha, accompanied by descriptions of each places descriptions. Outside of the pagoda is a garden, overlooking more mountain ranges. Next, we head to the queen’s pagoda, a similar structure to the king’s but this time in purple. Similar Buddha statue inside, but no more Buddhist murals, bummer. Outside, a much more intricate garden than outside of the king’s pagoda. There’s a small pound with a wooden bridge crossing it. From the side of the bridge opposite the pagoda, you have a perfect view of anyone on the bridge with both pagodas behind them. So the perfect photo spot for us. Hunger kicks in, off to lunch.

Running into picture position before other tourists

We head to a lunch spot and a big buffet is waiting for us. We make some French Canadian friends and fill our stomachs. Next stop is a street market. Much more expensive than the other markets we have been to in the city, but the tour brought us here, so we know this trick, we’ve been on tours before. Next stop is a hill tribe village. We were a bit worried because there’s a lot of tourist options for visiting the long neck tribes, and we tried to keep all of our activites as ethical as possible. This was a more standard tribe and we stopped to try coffee. The tribe used to be overrun with an opium problem before the king did research on the area and found that the soil is perfect to grow coffee. Now the tribe grows coffee that is sold around Thailand. They offer us some of their things, but like most of our Thai experience, are not pushy. We try some of their coffee, some coffee drinkers say it’s good, I fill mine with sugar like the six year old I am. Tour over, time to go home.

The view over the village

I Think That’s a Guy

Thailand is well known for its “ladyboys”, so much so that it is one of the preferred places to get a sex change operation, as they do it so frequently. We discuss with our new French Canadian friends about going to see a show and head off. Another Canadian from our room asks to join us as it is his last night to see a show, important note for later. Surrounded by a night market with cheap eats, we find the show. Free entry with two drink minimum, fair enough. The show was ladyboys lipsyncing and doing choreographed dances, changing their outfits to mimic the singer of the original song. I explain how people at these things like to single me out and mess with me and tuck myself in the corner. The roommate grabs a seat between me and the stage. We grab some drinks and watch the show.

About an hour in, there is a goofier part with one of the entertainers holding a balloon under her dress and singing a song. She approaches our table staring at me, I know how this ends. As she reaches the table, she realizes the Canadian is in the way and begins pointing at her stomach and then him and repeating “Papa”. He gets dragged on stage where she pops the balloon and holds a sock monkey. She dances with him and requests a kiss on the cheek. As he goes to fulfill the request, she turns so her lips are in line with his, classic joke. A few more songs and we consider leaving.

One of the ladyboys walks out to an Ariana Grande song. We looked over, spot on looks like Ariana. Same mannerisms, same jaw movements while singing. Next song is Nikki Minaj, same thing. Spot on look and mannerisms. The next song I didn’t know, so I assume it was a similar thing and the song included Ariana Grande and Nikki Minaj, so all three were on stage at once. The show came to an end after over two hours, experience checked off the list.

Finding a Grand Piano in the Hotel Lobby

When I was employed, a man much more versed in life experience was generous enough to impart some wisdom on me. One of the things we often referenced was learning things that don’t have immediate value so you have the skills when they are valuable later. Anyone who knows me knows that this is one of my favorite ways to spend my time. Presumably in jest, he suggested I learn find a native Thai person to teach me Thai massage to score some brownie points with a future spouse. Always one to take a joke too far, I began looking through the Thai massage schools in Chiang Mai. In a comedic bonus, as I was about to book thirty hours of Thai massage courses in a classroom, I was suggested a Thai Massage school that was one woman who only did up to two students at a time, as I was originally proposed to learn. Promising to be a more intensive course with much more individual focus, much more my learning style, we jumped at the chance.

We met Miss Wanna on the street outside of where she would be teaching us. We wash our feet, a standard pre-Thai massage practice and are led to three mattress pads with pillows and notebooks on top. The notebooks contain pictures and blank spaces. Miss Wanna went through each step, showing us hold it is done and how it should feel while we jotted down notes next to the pictures.

We somehow refrained from injuring each other during class

After we finished a section, we would practice on each other while Miss Wanna gave tips or corrected mistakes. The first day we covered the feet, legs, hands and arms. The second covered the backs of legs, the upper and lower back and the head. Eight hours in total and we know how to do an hour long Thai massage. You’re welcome, future wife.

Living a Normal Life Out of a Backpack

After the ladyboy show, we said goodbye to Janey. She had dealt with us long enough and had to head back to the States. Most of our days have been laid back, counter to my usual style of travel. With the length of travel, we have to space things out and try to live our lives. We switched to a more lowkey hostel and spent a little less time attached at the hip. Back to regular workouts at the park and trying all the food spots. Figuring out the most effective way to handle necessities like getting laundry done and planning for further travel. We checked out a Thai movie theater (I had to see Spidey in theaters) and even found sand volleyball, so life as usual for me. With Janey gone, our speed of travel will increase as we don’t have to be anywhere for a planned flight. Next, we will move on to Chiang Rai and make our way to Laos to take the two day slow boat to Luang Prabang before our motorcycle lessons.