all those years ago seem like days and months now. yet so many facets of life have evolved here, there and everywhere. relationships were certainly tested, and those that mattered still do, and those that didn't, well, never did.

what a feeling it was to be back in the motherland!!! the mixed emotions, the friendly smiles, the familial hugs and the strangers stares. disembarking in los angeles was quite a treat of cultural diversity. mandarin and spanish blaring from the speakers in the terminal, and skin colors that were nonexistent in kiwiland were abundant in LA. the commercial aspect of the states surprisingly didn't faze me. the strip malls and silly adverts seem to be ubiquitous in every urban/suburban area around the globe. in the states atleast i have the opportunity to practice some espanol while glancing at the billboards.....

large portions and a plethora of mexican cuisine were gastronomic successes out west. enchiladas, burritos, tostadas, quesadillas.............aren't they all the same in the end? fried, grilled, sauteed, braised..... the cheesecake factory was probably the victor in the largest portion competition, and sad as it is to say, in-and-out burger disappointed. two words put together: cookout.

a job, a career, a future loom on the horizon. how near is the job? how distant is the career? how soon is the future? when will i answer these questions? an inquiry of the author.

an antiquated internet search yielded a few potential job prospects, but the traditional 'connection' seems to work best. it has me somewhat employed and i believe i may even find a good job in these trying times of economic worry.

returning to america at his juncture in history is also quite fascinating. the belly of the beast and the fuel of the fire wrapped into one country. the world waits for america's answer; for its prosperity is linked to the states. perhaps they shouldn't have lent us all our credit....or maybe we shouldn't have have borrowed so much....or maybe we should just forge forward and forget the past, but won't we repeat all those mistakes again, and again? i ask for transparency and accountability, but who am i kidding, i'm an american citizen.

the facade of blankness has retreated yet the veil of uncertainty remains.

pictures below are in chronological order, beginning with the north of the south island, and ending in mt. penn, pennsylvania. stories are attached to many of the photographs, maybe you can ask me sometime?

SPLIT APPLE ROCK

MARLBOUROUGH SOUNDS

WELLINGTON

MAORI MARAE

MAORI CHURCH

WHANGANUI RIVER & MATEMATEAGONA TRAMP

TAUPO & SURROUNDS

NGAURUHOE & TONGARIRO

MT. DOOM NGAURUHOE

DOOM'S PEAK

THE END OF AN ERA

COROMANDEL

BUDDHIST STUPA

PINNACLES

FLORA

KAURI

OPONONI

90-MILE BEACH

CAPE REINGA

WAITANGI TREATY HOUSE

AUCKLAND

MAORI WOODWORK

FIJI-TIME

THE KING OF FRUITS

SLEEPING BABY

PARADISE

THE LAST HURRAH?

AMERICA......THE RETURN

CALIFORNIAN IDEOLOGY?

THE TOYOHASHI CONNECTION - >CODY, KANA and ME

CITY OF DREAMS

HOME SWEET HOME

northern migration, repatriation remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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WITH THE FOLLOWING:

four wheels and an atlas.

YOU, TOO CAN:

fly in bird land.
tramp around the anchor.
hop on the spine.
chat with a parrot.

i'm living proof it's possible, and i'll even give you a brief account what it's like to travel around an absurd land.

stunning scenery is the standard description of new zealand and it is well-deserved. a kaleidoscope of colors and jaw-dropping pictorial moments make one pulse with energy in an atmosphere devoid of bass beats and synthesizers. this one comes from the heart of nature. the beast in the woods. the man in the clouds. the boat that helped maui catch the fish. the maori lore brings the land closer to you. you are connected to it and it's power can control you.

my feeling in the bush when i saw two people and four kiwis in nine days. speaking to yourself and questioning your own thoughts, feelings and morals. signs of personal triumph.

back to the grand land. northern reaches with rocky beaches and snowy mountains with warm fountains. that's the story these days.

pictures say a few words, so read these for now :-)

THE KING ITSELF

AFTER THE LONG-DESERVED SHAVE

WHERE LAND MEETS SEA

IN THE ELEMENT

te wai pounomu remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Months comprised of constant travel
Days spent under foreign gavel

Time asleep at the wheel,
I took advantage, copped a feel

Masjids, Buddhas, holy mountains,
Tuk-tuk’s, rickshaws, electric fountains

Beaches, leeches cars and boats,
Incense, yoga, I hit the note

Surfing, swirling in the zone,
Lacking possessions, even a phone

A dragon, a manta, a buffalo
Where am I? Don’t you know?

Western ways and culture shock
A wary stranger, part of the flock?

Adventure found and good times had,
Pennies left, not all that bad

A genki gaijin through the door,
Pacific answered, the rest is lore

City of Jesus you gave me shelter
But weather a mess, helter skelter

Manchester mistress, an Avon punt,
I just want a beer, where should I hunt?

Rugby rituals on Saturday night,
Look, there’s an Aussie, let’s start a fight!!!

Up the hill to take in the view,
Down in Lyttleton, we’ll have a few

Round the bend, the end is here,
Glaciers, fiords all so near!

Winter be gone, spring come forth,
I’m heading out yonder, and then up north

Road to nowhere cradle me gently,
I’m taking my time, and there is a plenty.

open road remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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christ's city doesn't seem to embrace religion with any enthusiasm, but rugby may well take its place. saturday evening gospels with ritual dances and bloodshed. a few gory episodes and a victor emerges, usually wounded. enought drama to captivate a nation, and a fairly bored american.

a few excursions to nearby destinations have dotted the calendar, but have been few and far between. miserable weather, high petrol prices and apathy are the main reasons. sounds like domestic life's nuisances are bothering me again.

dutch, french and british explorers all landed in nz with adequate seafaring vessels. place names are varied accordingly, with haast, a personal favorite, port louis-philipe, now known as akaroa, and britain's christchurch representing some european flavor. add maori into the mix and you have a pretty standard colony. ahem, former colony.

akaroa's french street names and views of the banks peninsula make for a pleasant day trip from the city of god. pleasant is an apt adjective. nothing tingles the senses. a lighthouse made for a nice photo though.

akaroa

the queen's birthday and easter, both indicitive holidays for a secular and sovereign nation, gave me two excuses to spend some time in the party-mountain town, queenstown. inventive name, eh?

i cannot slight the scenery in this country though. simply superb. a three-day circular walk around the greenstone and caples tracks was a welcome break from the monotony of gridded streets and grey days.

sleeping under the stars, beneath a thin layer of feathers, was also a satisfying experience. roaming through the paddocks and valleys was quintessential new zealand. what i will be doing in about two months time, when temperatures rise and petrol prices fall.

greenstone

spider webs

setting sun

i've met more than a few friendly souls down here, and it can be said the people you meet shape your experience. i've been fortunate enough to have an awesome job with wonderful people coming and going every few weeks. the students at the language school are sometimes wide-eyed and gullible, but definitely keen to have fun. and although languages seem to separate human beings into groups, there has been a great mix of culture, skin color and laughter in my brief existence in christchurch. without mates, all i have is a guitar a full backpack.

sign of the kiwi

queenstown/tekapo/mt. cook

domesticated, briefly remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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standing still and watching days flutter by

christchurch was my destination and is now my home. fortuitous events unfolded as luck intertwined with effort. or that's how i'll spin this yarn. forty-eight hours of job-searching yielded my current position here and i'm all the better for it. a short week after arriving in kiwi land i had lined up a teaching job and was on the road with a little brother of sorts.

MY TENT :-)

THE VAN

we embarked from christchurch heading west over arthur's pass. my first glimpse of the mountains didn't drop my jaw, but a dip in the icy cold water of a cave numbed some body parts that like to be warm. the pain subsided within a few minutes in the glaring sun, and a trio of backpackers were happily tossing a frisbee to and fro.

MT. COOK

we stayed nearly every night by water, enduring the hideous flies for a morning dip in crystal clear waters. the days i spent marveling at rugged country with snow-capped mountains. we hiked up to a glacier and drank its melting remains. the crisp, smooth liquid lined my throat with refreshment. a taste unrivaled by any corporate engineer.

moving waters and still lakes primed us for a trip down the left coast, full of nothing and everything at the same time. colossal glaciers with snap-happy tourists and desolate beaches with seals. a combination of landscapes so close in distance yet so distant in mind. we made our way past haast to jacksons bay, the end of the road on the west coast. little towns became signposts for beaches and nature walks. the end of the road proved to be nothing miraculous, but something so simple and so kiwi. a fishing village with smiling faces and views of the mountains.

crossing back over the s. alps and we were greeted by looming mountains and freezing-cold rivers. a hearty fire with s'mores galore warmed us up for a morning of rain. luckily we darted ahead of the rain clouds and into wanaka, a lake town surrounded by hills. a day hike afforded gorgeous views of the pristine lake, and as always, our couchsurfing hosts were gracious.

rounding out the mini-tour was a stop at mt. cook national park. camping in the bush outside the park was a treat, as we could see the top of mt. cook over a mountain and hear a stream trickle through the briar patches. a day walk up to ball glacier and its hut provided a bit of exercise, while crashing glaciers in the valley provided treacherous noise. the final day was muddled with mist and rain, leaving us running down the path in search of cover. the yha was kind enough to offer free hot showers to us in exchange for nothing, and we gladly accepted.

making my way back to christchurch via lake tekapo was also a nice journey, albeit from the seat of a car and later on the seat of a bus. living in one place for two weeks now has me thinking, maybe i can do the domestic thing again. i'll have to as funds for future travels are not in place yet. the city offers cultural, social and natural pursuits aplenty, so i shouldn't be complaining. life is awesome.

kiwi land remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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landing in sydney town was the first time my traveling emotions featured any second-guesses. leaving asia was a tough decision, and i even avoided talking with caucasions at the bali airport. my indonesian was sufficient for a few conversations, and i was lucky enough to meet a group of japanese that provided me with another half an hour before i plunged back into the proper english.

my initial impression of sydney was highly positive, due in great part to the abundance of green in the city and its cleanliness compared to american cities. the harbor area and botanical gardens were absolutely gorgeous, and the british colonial mark is comparable to parts of boston. the bustling city center featured a good number of asians, but it seemed a little too segregated for my liking. subversion also seemed lacking, but maybe there are just too many punks and winos in new york. either way, i like seeing graffiti and civil acts of disobediance. the laid-back atmosphere in such a large city left me thinking that life down under could be a possibility.

my walk along the coast was definitely the highlight of sydney, and the sculputures were an added bonus. a few odd ones are featured below, but there were plenty more that tickled my fancy.

after a week in sydney i made my way to the fruitshack, located in leeton, nsw. it's a backpacker house full of euro's and a me. everyday we work hard in the fields and relax at night. the sunsets are long and dramatic and the boxes of wine are large and go quickly. the simple life is a wonderful respite from traveling somewhere new every week, and the backpackers i've met all rock. i'll probably be heading out with a vehicle in another few weeks to a destination unknown, but still in aus.

opposites abound remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Evening Prayer

my time on pulau weh, just north of banda aceh, was a bit disappointing due to low visibility under the sea, but nonetheless, the seaside bungalows were a treat. the cheeky macaques that jumped on my roof were a complimentary offering from Mama Mia, the gentile owner of the bungalows.

jungle time came in halves - the first being a trek to scalding hot springs and the second an hour with tame orangutans in the Bukit Lawang Rehabilitation Center.

my guide on the trek was not too enthusiastic, although he was addicted to grass. we were unable to see wild orangutans, or at least nothing more than orange fuzz in the treetops. the camping spot by the hot springs, however, was ideal for relaxing, smoking and pondering what action to take if a sumatran tiger were to come for a session.

the tame orangutans came around for a bite to eat just under the treetops, in a scenic spot devoid of cages. the mother and child were quite amusing, walking between tourists and even posing for a profile picture. after walking down the hill we passed a few empty cages, which is a good sign for the rehabilitation center. the hostels along the river in Bukit Lawang were nearly empty, as it seemed most places were in Sumatra.

HOT SPRINGS

a dubious encounter with a taxi driver in medan led me to a bus terminal, and then to lake toba, the numero uno tourist destination in northern sumatra. the main town was full of hostels, eateries, book shops and hundreds of people who called me "friend" from their stores. surprisingly, i wasn't itching to leave after a few days. the batak people, followers of Jesus Christ, had some rocking concerts at night and the empty town made for eerie, yet intriguing walks. also, the island in the middle of the lake is the size of singapore, and the views were sublime from my balcony.

a couple days in berastagi reminded my of india, sans live animals defecating in the street. i can't admit i miss that delightful sight. the town offered little, but an active volcano was within walking distance of the stench-riddled markets. perhaps the highlight of the town was the $.40 pancake - large enough for two adult males and packed with peanuts, bananas and gooey chocolate. it was breakfast and dinner for three consecutive days.

Volcano Crater Rock Signatures

Kids.....

at the tail-end of my malaysian trip i visited bako national park, a seaside jungle only accessible by boat. the allure grows..... the proboscis monkeys and macaques were visible near the beach, and a few heavenly sunsets gave me the chance to contemplate life on mars, or maybe that was just bowie on the ipod. the national park was actually run for avid travelers, unlike the natural amusement parks up in sabah. i hope to return to sarawak for a more in-depth investigation, but bako and malaysian independence day were a great start.

Merdeka Day Boat Race -> Go Yellow Team!!!

Proboscis Monkey Outline

whose prose knows
where the story goes?

Equatorial Vagrancies remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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My first stop heading east from the elongated strip-mall, otherwise known as Kota Kinabalu, was the Mt. Kinabalu National park. A single goal was upstairs upon arrival - summit the highest peak in Borneo. Gnarly, nasty, disgusting right? The sheer cost of the hike is enormous, roughly $70, but I was prepared to shell out ringgit to ascend into Sabah's clouds with a guide I didn't need or want. The park ranger turned me down for a day climb since I arrived too late, but he said the following day would be acceptable. Perhaps it was a fortuitous denial, because my exploration of the mountains' surrounds was a grand experience, and begged the question -> Why would I pay $70 for a view from a mountain? To most tourists I've met this is a pittance, the cost of fun here in Sabah, but after contemplating paying for nature, I realized that I would rather save the cash for something else. So, the avid hiker in me was disappointed, but the penny-pincher and rigid moralist in me were grinning with glee. My camera was still put to good use in my two days roaming the outer trails of the park.

Hiking with the kiddies

Saving a few bucks came in handy for my current activity, scuba diving. Semporna, the gateway to some world-class dives, has been my home for the last week or so. Its' dive shops offer extremely reasonable deals on courses, and I was glad I waited to begin my diving life in eastern Sabah.

The fish and coral certainly use every shade in the spectrum, and the sensation of breathing underwater is still so foreign to me that I get that gleeful childhood smile. It is lovely to know that there are activities and adventures that can make you feel like a kid again, especially with scary words like mortgages and marriages floating around. A water-proof camera could make the budget list for the next trip, but for now everything is above the saltwater. Our boat rides featured sublime islands and some locals fishing in the Celebes Sea.

Rainbow

Scuba spot

Zissou's creation station

Sabah remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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after basking in the sun of the gorgeous perhentian islands, i took a frigid overnight bus to penang. known in the states as the comfortable abode of fiery cuisine and in britain as a cultural melting pot created by the colonial forces, its' capital georgetown blends both details with a modern flair. the indian, chinese and malay food stalls were ubiquitous, cheap and served delicious meals. the mixture of mosques, buddhist and hindu temples and a few churches served as the architectural support for a culturally diverse city. after a few walks and countless conversations i found that the citizens still retain heritage from their native lands, and are even able to study chinese and tamil at government schools. the chinese restaurant menus offered me an opportunity to read a few characters i can recognize, and also learn a few new ones with the help of the gracious staff. the visual highlights were most certainly the religious buildings, as you can see below.

a few kilometers outside of town, a massive, chinese-built buddhist temple dominates the landscape. eschewing tradition, its' maze of gift shops, restaurants and lifts do not bode well for anyone attempting to achieve spiritual peace. undoubtedly a tourist trap, the kek lok si temple is visited by those from far and wide, and for a large donation they will even write your name on a roof shingle.

leaving georgetown, i was close to flipping a coin to determine my next destination. in the end, though, i took the next bus which departed to the cameron highlands. it turned out to be quite a fortunate event because the sweaty humidity from penang was leveled by a serious drop in temperature up in the highlands. the tea plantations spanning across rolling jungle proved to be wonderful scenery for my day walks. the locals were extremely friendly and a few rides were certainly hitched during my stay.

my 48 hours in kuala lumpur was unfortunately uneventful, although a bunch of people tried to convince me to go gambling with them. that is usually a tell-tale sign that someone is offering to steal your money. if i was completely bored out of my skull i may have ventured with them, but i like my moola in my pocket. ascending to the 41st floor of the 2nd tallest building in the world was certainly the highlight, and surprisingly, it was free.

i rounded out my tour of the peninsula with a grand stay in melaka. upon arrival at the hostel i was greeted by a lovely mother who saw my guitar and remarked that her son was a musician. within 6 hours i was sitting in his studio listening to his band jamming. my amateur guitar skills were displayed with much enthusiasm from the malays, and after smoking the shisha, everything sounded far-fucking out.

i also toured the portuguese and dutch settlements, which were well-preserved and thankfully free of vehicles. a night at the bowling alley finished my stay in melaka, but a return trip to the music casa may be in order.

malaysian peninsula remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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after negotiating a cheap price for a used guitar, i boarded a bus to kanchanaburi, a green spot on the kwai river. known mostly for its "death railway", which was built during WWII by a myriad of prisoners "working" for the Imperial Japanese army, kanchanaburi was a pleasant way to spend a weekend. i guess that statement contains the same hidden meaning that "she's nice" does. to continue with the history lesson, the railway never made it to its intended destination of yangon, but it still runs from bangkok through kanchanaburi.

after listening to floating river karaoke for a few nights, i realized that maybe kanchanaburi should be left to the tourists. not too much of a concession from the gritty backpacking contingent.

alas, i was off to an area more densely populated with wealthy scandinavian tourists than any other in SE asia. phuket. an infamous name since the tsunami, and a place that needs no introduction to anyone in thailand. the beaches are long, the waves are big and the views are awesome.

sharing it with a few thousand people is a downer, but atleast budget accommodation still exists, barely. a few vendors also roamed the highway running by the beach. this guy sold fish balls that smelled like fish and tasted like rubber.

i also spent a few nights on the "world-class" island of ko phi phi. to say i was unimpressed is an understatement. the beaches were covered with chairs and the water full of boats. maybe it was the wrong season to be there, but after 2 nights i was sick of being stuck on an island with too many people. the hike up to the viewpoint was perhaps its only highlight.

i continued my beach theme after entering malaysia on the east side and taking an extremely fast and dangerous boat to the perhentian islands. powered by generators and lacking roads, cars and for the most part alcohol, the islands offer something thai beaches lacked - peace and quiet. it also had heaps of rain, but swimming with rainbow color fish is a fantastic way to spend a rainy day. the snorkelling 30m from the shore was absolutely sublime. i think scuba diving will have to happen somewhere in indonesia.

back to the land of smiles remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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my desert experience began in rajasthan, and continued himalayan style in
zanskar and ladakh, the northeastern most section of the country. riddled with buddhist gompas and neverending smiles, the town of leh and its surrounds gave me a bit of hope for humanity. kind, genuine people do exist. now the mission is preventing tourists from ruining their culture. i tried to do my part by yelling at bengalis who carelessly threw rubbish on pristine ground. i also showed a little ladakhi girl that bags of empty chips reside in rubbish bins, not next to streams. i wonder where she got her idea from?

LEH

AH, NICE MARMOT

through a great organization, i had the lovely opportunity to spend four days trekking through the ladakhi wilderness, while staying with ladakhi families in mud-and-wood homes. the food was hearty, and the families were so full of love the seams were cracking on the homes. the language barrier, once again, proved to be insignificant. it seems the linguistic differences between ladakhi and english washed away in the tide of warmth and kindness. a glance at a picture or a full-blown dance gesture - the means of communication are multiplying with every interaction.

LADHAKI MAN

DONNIE DARKO?

after 2 weeks soaking up the sun in the desert, i moved on to infamous kashimir. my experience there was distinctly different from leh, but the natural beauty never ceased to amaze. i spent a few days lounging around on a houseboat in srinagar. reading, jamming on guitar and finding lunch were the most pertinent tasks. a very similar situation also presented itself outside of dharamsala, the residence of the dalai lama in exile. an israeli village about 3km from the temple served as a wonderful place to relax, listen to drum circles and overhear yogaheads chatting about the day's positions.

SRINAGAR

KASHMIR VALLEY

DALAI LAMA'S PAD

HINDU BATHING SPOT

tomorrow ill be back in bangkok, ready for more SEAsian fun. a return trip to laos may be in order, but the southern swoop through thailand, malaysia and indonesia is certainly on the docket. nothing there, however, will compare to the absolute mayhem of new delhi streets; rocking with rickshaws, people, cars and cows, or the snow-capped himalayas; both the desert and green kind. india! a place that gets inside you and grows. hopefully the food finds its way out.

departing the subcontinent remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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what started off as a rain-filled first day turned into an epic, yes epic, journey across the mighty thorang la pass (5,416m, 17,770ft.), and then back down to a more earthly elevation of 1000m. in total the roughly 215km trek took 14 days, 35 iodine tablets and countless breaks to look at the natural weeds growing by the trail. my horticulture skills have vastly improved.

as an eager hiker, i started off the first few days powering up hills and cruising down valleys. the elevation gain didn't effect me until we crossed the 4000m barrier. at that point i could tell my SE asian lifestyle didn't prepare me for a walk in the alpine. atleast not with 12 kg strapped to my back. so along i went, with encouragement from fellow hikers in similar predicaments. i reached high camp, situated at 4800m., watched true romance, killer flick by the way, and attempted to fall asleep before the "big day".

the morning came all too quickly and i opened my eyes to a cloudy horizon. not the best reason to hop out of bed and walk 600 vertical meters up a mountain, but i wasn't about to look down at what i had already done.

the most demanding day cleared up and my view of a glacier and desert in the background was stunning. none of the pictures taken by the professional guys will do the scenery justice, nor will my words, but if you can believe a sincere statement, you'll know that this was the most beautiful place i've ever been.

during my descent from heaven i came across a few yaks, mountain sheep and gnarly water buffalo. as enticing as yak steak sounds, i never devoured the chewy meet. my diet consisted mainly of "wild" mountain vegetables, lentil soup and anything with peanut butter. always a heady treat for the hungry hiker.

i will upload the pictures at some point, but not here in pokhara, atleast thats what the internet dude is telling me. "no upload, sir".

and so it goes, and so it goes.

hiking (trekking) in nepal remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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monkey child sucking some milk

eyes of the world

spin the wheel

monks playing

prayer candles

pictures, pictures, pictures remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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darjeeling was the first stop on my himalayan tour, not too memorable a place given the fog which blanketed the town for the duration of my stay. its famous tea did not delight, but the combination of beer and the world cup of cricket was pleasant.

making my way north, i entered into sikkim, which is technically part of india, though should be its own country if my questionnaire was valid. it consisted of the following:

Q: where is your family from? usual answer: "nepal" or "tibet"
Q: do you like india? why or why not? usual answer: smirk, head shake and an audible "no, india bad country"

if my efforts were indeed objective and thorough, and i obviously think they were, then "democracy" is failing once again. the virgin territory in the far north of this Buddhist area is still heavily protected, but the southern half of sikkim, the area which i visited, is prone to indian and western tourists tossing trash anywhere but the proper receptacle. despite much effort from the sikkim tourist office, the number of tourists is still relatively low so the rubbish issue hasn't gone too far, yet.

on the flip side, the views of the snow-capped himalayas, which form part of the border with nepal, are absolutely breathtaking. the first morning i awoke for sunset i was greeted with more clouds, but later, during a spectacular jeep ride, i was able to see the white crystals in the distance. a bit of a tease, but still grand. after a few days mulling around sikkim's capital, gangkok, i spent a few hours (20) on various different buses and arrived in kathmandu. the city is full of friendly people, hindus and buddhists alike, some monkeys, and heaps of japanese restaurants. i still can't bring myself to order sushi outside of the motherland, nihon. more trekking stories will follow in the coming weeks, in addition to (hopefully) more photos depending on the internet connections in the mighty kingdom (people's republic) of nepal.

relief remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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ind!a pictures remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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two weeks after crossing into the subcontinent, my views on travel have significantly shifted. after a few months roaming urban cement, rice paddies and mountain passes in SE Asia i became accustomed to the relatively easy-going aura of the trip. on arrival in the backpacker piss-and-shit hole in new delhi i was a bit shaken, but still intrigued at what refreshingly raw india may offer.
delhi itself has a shopping cart full of all the goodies, ranging from posh restaurants and nightclubs to dirt-poor indians living in garbage dumps. i relished taking in both sides- the new and the old, the rich and the poor, the clean and the dirty, and any two antonyms you'd like to toss in here ( and ).
after only 2 days in the capital my head was swirling, my body was aching and my cough was so horrid that i bolted to the desert. it wasn't planned, but rather decided at the ticket counter when a nice indian railway employee told me that the taj mahal was closed on fridays and that the journey out to rajasthan was beautiful. so be it. i took the 19-hour overnight train to jaisalmer, arriving at 2pm in the absolutely baking heat. the forts and castles in rajasthan have been without a doubt the highlight, and the first one i set eyes on has kept me in this province since. the sandstone fort shadowing the winding alleys of jaisalmer was taken directly from my childhood fantasies of the middle-east. but this was western india, in the land of the kings.
i also ventured out into the desert on a camel for three uncomfortable days. the dunes we slept on were magnificent, and the sunrise/sunset combo each day almost changed my sleep schedule. but alas, the pictures were lost to a faulty memory card and an internet cafe clerk who deleted all the pictures.
there are more wonderful pictures that will appear below from jaipur, udaipur, chittor and bundi, the other wonderful places ive visited on my tour of western india. the cities of blue havelis are abundant, as are colorful costumes donned by women. my attire has been quite a fashion hit as well-one black and one white sandal. it seems that indians don't understand the concept of being different. i explain to each kind indian-and it's been roughly 100 so far-who tells me my sandals are two different colors that "i chose them because they were different" "but why, sir?" is their retort.
another example of scary conformity came on a train ride with a long-haired scotsman. it appears his locks were a bit funny-looking to a couple indian men and they inquired why he would choose such a hairstyle. his answer, plain and simple was, "because i like it". again the indian response, "but why, sir?". as odd as the interactions are, i keep answering the wandering questions, "sir, your country?" and "sir, your good name?". it's been a fantastic two weeks, and there are months to come

ind!a remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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without a doubt the ultimate highlight of myanmar is the colorful group of ethnicities that make up the burmese population. roaming the streets of yangon gave me a sense of the bengali and indian influence in the former british colony. after travelling to the shan state bordering thailand i realized this vastly undeveloped land was full of diversity.

my travel itinerary in myanmar was fairly standard, as i only spent two weeks there. my first experience with myanmar transit was an overnight bus up to mandalay, an unfortunately hideous town. the 600km trip took roughly 16 hours, including stops in the middle of the road so the bus driver could chat with other buses coming down to yangon. i came to realize that these journeys included some of the best stories during my stay.

after a few days gazing at gold temples and walking across the longest teak bridge in the world (or so the bible says) i made my way to bagan via boat. the local boat cruised down the ayeyarwady river with only 4 foreigners on board. i was able to sample some of the local treats with generous burmese who opened their plentiful lunch sacks. the peanuts with mystery veggies and rice kept me full for the day-long cruise.

the temples of bagan were a stunning sight, and hopefully the pictures do them justice. situated on a flat field, the temples seem neverending and wonderfully unique. the nightlife there was also abundant for myanmar-two bars open after 10pm!!!!a few days at inle lake rounded out the trip for me. the sights were fairly modest there, but the dip in the center of the lake cleansed me of some of the dirt i picked up riding on top of a pick-up for a few hours.

back in bangkok, i have a few hours to contemplate my next move to delhi.

myanmar's hazy days remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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upon departing my hotel for the overnight in a tribal village, i knew we would encounter many hmong (tribe name) women selling goods. i did not, however, expect a band of them to follow us the entire day and ask us if we "buy from me" or "maybe later" (a deadly, deadly commitment to make). the group i walked with had reserves of patience, but after our lunch break we were just plain tired of the hassle. we were at the base of soaring mountains that nearly touched the clouds. the intricate network of streams that ran through the rice paddies were a natural marvel, but, alas, the aggressive hanoi disposition was unfortunately exported up to the mountains.

if there were a defining last trip to make to vietnam, the northwest was it. offering stunning beauty, unbelievable motorbiking and great food, it surpassed every place i had previously visited. i couldn't have asked for a better setting to enjoy my last few nights in vietnam. the constant assault of moto-drivers, hill tribe women and food vendors dampened my spirits a bit, but more than anything, that was the vietnam i remember most from saigon, dalat, nha trang etc. everywhere i went the people were trying to take as much money from your wallet as they possibly could. disguised under the mask of communism, these self-made capitalists weren't thinking of tomorrow- no no no-they were thinking of today. after lengthy discussions with several foreigners it seems this attitude, which is all to prevalent, keeps many backpackers out of vietnam, or prevents them from a return visit. i haven't made up my mind yet, but if i return, it will be with a good set of earplugs and a shirt that just reads "NO, THANKS!!"

on a pictural note here are some pictures of the beautiful scenery near SAPA, Vietnam.

WANTED: PEACE AND SERENITY IN VIET NAM remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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the old quarter in hanoi is a labyrinth of narrow streets that are filled with colorful characters selling everything from gravestones to silk suits. i arrived here at 5:30am on my birthday and found the nicest "budget" hotel, which included a bathtub and hot water, two amenities i haven't had thus far on the trip. the last few days i've been roaming the quarter and indulging in some tasty treats, especially the french pastries that cost a whopping $.40!!!

about 4 hrs from hanoi on the gulf of tonkin is halong bay, home to a natural wonder out at sea. literally thousands of limestone islands rise up from the waters to create a surreal setting. i cruised on a boat through the fog and spent a night onboard with some new friends. the light wasn't ideal for photography, but the clouds and fog made for an eerie night in the middle of the bay. the 2nd day i went for a "trek", which was a 4km walk up a mountain. our tour "guide" was chain-smoking and walking in flip-flops (thongs). as you can imagine it wasn't quite the warm-up for nepal that i was hoping for. the kayak trip through the islands was a wonderful way to end the trip, and also to earn a few beer hanoi's in the evening.

as for the trip between the major cities, hoi an and the DMZ have been the highlights. i was fortunate enough to stay in hoi an for tet, the vietnamese new year. for one week, the people of this beautiful country spend time with their family and celebrate the nation getting one year older. hoi an, an old trading post that was utilized by portuguese, japanese and chinese (to name a few), is supposedly the cultural heart of vietnam. the fading yellow facades of old houses and brick streets certainly add an aesthetic feel that is unique in vietnam, but the sheer number of tourists make modern vietnamese culture invisible.

before i embarked on the hellish overnight to hanoi, i enjoyed a day touring the DMZ. the 17th parallel was the Demilitarized Zone from 1954 until Saigon fell on April 30th, 1975. throughout vietnam, underground tunnels were built by the viet cong to avoid intense bombing campaigns undertaken by the US. i went 15m beneath the earth's surface and saw firsthand where hundreds of people lived and 17 children were born!!!! tiny areas of rock were beds and muddy hallways led the vietnamese from the shores of the pacific into the jungle. it was truly an elaborate and well-thought out plan. afterwards the bus pulled up to khe san, and several former US helicopters were in the foreground. a few vietnamese men were selling US and Vietnamese dog tags, and the thoughts of the war surfaced in a gut-wrenchging way.

i have met countless vietnamese men, women and children on this journey. nearly everyone who can speak english asks where i come from. the answer america has rarely had a negative response, and more often than not they smile and say they want to visit my home country. the past has not been forgotten, but the people i have met here are looking to the future, to improve their country and become a desirable place to live. my experience in vietnam has been as much about the beautiful sights as it has been about meeting the people and sharing some great memories. the bia hoi always makes for a great night out!

all my vietnam pics are under the link to the right, but here are a few that i have time to include. (gotta catch a night train to the mountains....)

MEKONG DELTA


SAIGON (HO CHI MINH)

DALAT





NHA TRANG




HOI AN




DMZ


HANOI

rainy days in hanoi remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The French city design seems neverending in SE Asia. I guess the colonizers put the locals straight to work when they got here.

After cruising around Saigon I've come to the conclusion that traffic circles only add to the dangerous nature of urban motorbiking. Crossing the road between oncoming Hondas, driven by women covered from head-to-toe in a combination of silk and cotton, has become the norm here. I can't say my method is very complex. I look to the right or left, and just hope they don't hit me. Usually the men slow down to offer me a ride with the ubiquitous question "Where you go?". After a negative reply the driver cordially asks if I'd care for a prostitute or drugs. Apparently all white men are interested in only two things in life-getting laid and getting high. Ponder that thought and let me know its' validity.

Absolute chaos exists on all corners around my room, which is the 2nd floor of a silk shop. I can't go to bed until 3am, when the motorbikes and prostitutes dull down, and there are vendors hollering from 6 or 7 in the morning. Luckily I have Coltrane on the Ipod to put me back to sleep.

Yesterday I scoped out the city's attractions, which include a plethora of Ho Chin Minh statues and American War Museums. The pictures inside the main War Museum were absolutely striking-deformed babies, soldiers with limbs ripped off, forests destroyed by Agent Orange and of course, smiling portraits of the "culprits"-a succession of US Presidents, Robert McNamara and Henry Kissinger.

A propaganda stunt precedes the goods of the museum, in which the "Prelude to War" is summarized to make the reader believe that the imperialist Americans were the first to take the Vietnamese land. The imperialist French and Japanese were almost completely overlooked, but I guess the main emphasis of the museum was the American War. A French guillotine was situated inside a fake torture room, which paled in comparison to the real detention center that the Khmer Rouge used in Phnom Penh. Without the work of countless photojournalists, including one skillful Japanese man (jozu desu ne!), this museum would be severely lacking. The American war vessels outside provide some real-life flair, but I believe Howard Zinn's chapter on Vietnam was more insightful than any message provided at the War Museum.

Upon entering Nam I decided to rent a motorbike for a few days and venture into the Mekong Delta. The rice bowl of Vietnam was full of picturesque landscapes-floating morning markets, women in conical hats next to shades of green vegetable crops and rice baking on the pavement. Green Mekong water was never far from the dirt roads I bumped over, and the smells always enticed my appetite. The rice-paper wraps with fresh veggies, meats and peanut sauce are just divine. The friendly nature of the Southern Vietnamese was a wonderful way to start my trip, especially considering the Saigon hawks are setting prices 10 times what they should be. Bargaining has lost much of its' entertainment value here, but I'm still up for a good-natured argument over a quarter. It's all about the 4000 dong.

Tomorrow I'm off to Dalat, an old French outpost situated in the mountains. Hopefully the cool air will provide some respite from the sweaty nights I've spent underneath countless fans. Life never gets boring on the road. There's always a new town to go to.

Nam remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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after enjoying the fun ride through thailand and laos, i came to see some of the worst of se asia's history outside of phnom penh. about 10km from the cambodian capital are the S-21 killing fields, used by pol pot's regime to kill "subversives". these people were academics, women, children and anyone deemed to be against the maoist revolution that swept the country in 1975. in less than four years the powerful khmer rouge killed 2 million people, nearly one quarter of the population!!!!

when i walked around the craters in the ground, the images of innocent cambodians being beaten and killed was overwhelming. a temple with bones was erected in the center of the grounds, and it was a moving experience.

afterwards i visited the S-21 facility, used to detain and torture civilians. the cells were barely big enough to lay down in, and the weapons used were on display. the combination of the killing fields and detention center in a single day was a tough thing to grasp after cruising down the mekong and relaxing on the beach. im sure this will be one of the most meaningful experiences on my trip.

as i see the faces of the people in the street, i think about their family members that may have been killed by the khmer rouge. one day i hope the cambodians can achieve reconciliation. there have never been war trials and many khmer rouge leaders are still silent about the acts they committed. considering pol pot's regime lost power in 1979 and he died in 1998, justice will most likely never come. this country is certainly moving forward anyway, and they have no problem showing you their true hearts. i can understand why many ex-pats volunteer to help the children here. it's hard not to feel sympathetic towards the khmer people, but finding the correct way to help them is very difficult. many people beg for money, and children are used by men to sell their products, such as guidebooks and flowers. buying a child a plate of fried rice has felt good, and writing this down soothes some of the pain as well.

here is a picture of the fields. all of the depressions are where the bones were buried in mass graves. in some spots, old clothing was still visible underneath the grass and dirt.

the darker side remains copyright of the author ggithens, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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