Photos from Ha Long- December 28, 2014

Better luck with the WiFi here at this workshop for the disabled, halfway between Ha Long and Ha Noi. Although these are mostly young people, many are suffering the effects of Agent Orange, which apparently go through to the third generation, theirs.

Postcard from Ha Long Bay- Trouble in Paradise- December 27, 2014

If you’ve seen “Indochine,” you’ve seen Ha Long Bay, filled with limestone karst islands (1969 of them) and caves. The bay is part of the Gulf of Tonkin, which is part of what Vietnamese call the East Sea, as opposed to the South China Sea. Ha Long Bay has twice been named a UNESCO World Heritage site, first time for natural beauty, second time for its geomorphology. It is also one of the more recently named Seven Natural Wonders of the World.

Our itinerary had us spending close to 24 hours poking around the bay on a “sailing” vessel called a junk. After a 4-5 hour drive from Hanoi, we arrived at the dock in Ha Long City, and boarded a tender that took us to our junk, a boat remarkably similar to the dahabiya in which we “sailed” up the Nile. Like the dahabiya, the junk was Instant paradise. We admired the cabins we would be assigned to after lunch, opened a beer, snapped a couple of photos, and enjoyed a late and fabulous lunch.

After lunch, Hank said, “I have good news and bad news.” The bad news was a hurricane warning meant the harbor master (or his Vietnamese equivalent) was ordering all boats off the bay. The good news was OAT had found us a place to stay in Ha Long City. After a quick visit to Surprise Cave, which was being visited at that exact same moment by dozens of junks which had also been ordered off the bay, we returned to port, and checked in to our generic hotel. Today will be spent slowly working our way back to the Hanoi Airport to catch our 6 p.m. flight to Hue.

Ha Long Bay is uniquely beautiful, and invites leisurely exploration. Most important for me, after four or five days of traffic, crowds and fumes, the wind, water, air and wide open spaces were exactly what I craved. As Tatti (Great Aunt Toni) often said, “Nature recharges my batteries.”

I’ll leave you with a digression on the for-me impenetrable Vietnamese language. As Westerners, most of us don’t realize every syllable is crawling with diacritics, accent marks heading in various directions, both above and below the vowels. As I understand it, the diacritics determine tone, and tone determines meaning. To make matters worse, there are 29 letters, including 11 vowels. Depending on the inflection (or tone), a syllable can have six different meanings, leaving lots of room for misunderstanding. For example “xin chow” is the universal “hello.” But chow with a backward accent over the o is the word for “porridge.” I leave you with my favorite Vietnamese phrase, phonetically “Oy choy oy!”, meaning “Oh my God!”

Sorry, no photos. Although I took a few before the front rolled in, the wireless here isn’t up to the task. Maybe tomorrow.

Love, Toni

Postcard from Hanoi- December 26, 2014

So much to tell. So little time to tell it.

We have visited the Ha Noi home of Mr. Liem and learned the ancient Viet art of water puppetry, and visited the Tho Ha home of Mr. Viet, and learned the art of making rice paper, in which we were trained by Mr. Viet’s wife. Not that anyone is about to hire me on as a skilled worker. Lucky Mary was pronounced “qualified” by a market woman who taught her the proper way to peel a potato. Better yet, she got to play music with Mr. Viet, who has quite a collection of traditional Vietnamese instruments.

We learned the rice paper trade in Tho Ha Village, reached by a very short ferry ride, where most homes are also rice paper workshops. This is relatively new craft for the village, which until some decades ago was in the clay coffin business. Fifty years ago, Tho Ha ran out of clay, and the government suggested they switch to rice paper. This is the edible rice paper used to wrap those delicious spring rolls.

When a village doesn’t have agricultural land, it is apparently common tor it to specialize in some craft. Today we visited Bat Trang Village, whose 240 families have made ceramics from white clay for over a thousand years. Unlike Tho Ha, when Bat Trang ran out of clay, they kept on with the ceramics, and started importing the clay. After learning the ceramic making business, we visited the home of Mr. Duc, and learned about his family’s experience during land reform from 1954-57.

In all our home visits, we see large family altars. Although 90% of the people have no religion, from the Vietnamese perspective, ancestor worship is tradition, not religion. Pretty serious stuff, though. In addition to the home altars, each village has a pagoda to honor Buddha, and two temples- one to honor the village ancestor and one to honor Confucius.

Vietnam so far is like one endless farmers market. On every street it seems you can buy fresh produce, eggs of many varieties, and cooked foods to satisfy every hunger. These are prepared on little charcoal cookers. Some are snack foods, like green rice wrapped in a taro leaf or a sweet cake of sweet potato, coconut and sesame. Others, like pho and bia )2% fresh draft beer that costs $0.25 a glass), are served at the ubiquitous low red and blue plastic tables and chairs. With fresh food so easily available, Vietnamese shop every day, and big refrigerators are not important.

Yesterday we visited Hoa Lo Prison, also known as the “Hanoi Hilton,” where John McCain spent the better part of six years after being shot down doing a bombing run over Hanoi. Although this era of the prison’s history is presented, the major focus is on Hoa Lo Prison’s earlier history as a place of incarceration and execution for Viet Minh fighting the French. The men and women were kept under pretty barbarous conditions, with one foot locked in stocks. Execution was by guillotine, with the severed heads displayed in baskets.

Of course we’ve been eating lots of good food. Tonight was the best. Fried snake-head fish at Cha Ca La Vong, Vietnam’s oldest restaurant, serving one dish (and one dish only) since 1871. The fish is fried at the table. You add greens and herbs, peanuts, and fish oil and serve over rice noodles.

Wish I could go back to Cha Ca La Vong tomorrow night. Instead we leave Ha Noi for a night on Ha Long Bay. Sunday evening we fly to Hue.

Until next time.

Love, Toni

Postcard from Hanoi- December 25, 2014

This is our first trip to Southeast Asia, and our first flight further west than Hawaii. Twelve hours and three movies into our flight from L.A. we were passing over Japan, with Taipei still over two hours away. From Taipei, a three hour flight to Hanoi.

We arrived in Hanoi at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday (8:30 p.m. Tuesday MST), and are now ensconced at the Golden Lotus Hotel in the Old Quarter of Hanoi. After a shower, Mary and I were refreshed enough to wander out in search of bottled water and Vietnamese coffee. We found a whole street of coffee houses, then a street of shoes, a street of engraving, a street of sunglasses, etc. Sidewalks are crowded with street food and produce vendors, plus parked (and occasionally moving) motor scooters, which are the primary means of transportation in Hanoi. As we had been warned, crossing streets is an adventure. You step out into the endless stream of scooters, bikes and cars, and walk across at a slow and deliberate pace. So far, so good.

Our morning routine has us out at 6 to pass through the sidewalk markets and walk around Hoan Kiem Lake, where every few yards, a different club is doing morning exercise- from tai-chi to aerobics to badminton and Latin dance. Every club has it’s own music coming from boom boxes. This morning, the big aerobics groups is still moving to “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Our favorite club is laughing yoga- ho, ho, ha, ha, ha (seriously!). Believe it or not, scripted belly laughs and smiles leave you feeling exhilarated.

Wednesday morning , we had beef noodle soup (pho bo) for breakfast, then a cyclo-rickshaw ride through the Old Quarter and the French Quarter. This turned out to be a surprisingly satisfying way to see the hectic activity of the Old Quarter, without having to negotiate crowded sidewalks and rush hour street crossings. We passed through streets of Santa Claus outfits, bamboo, tarps, hardware, welding, and more. Although each street is named for the wares historically sold there (like silk), the current product may be something else entirely (like funeral banners).

The cyclo-rickshaw ride finished at the Ho Chi MInh Mausoleum, a place of reverence for Vietnamese, for whom Ho Chi Minh is, as Mary put it, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one. No cameras and no talking as you file by the embalmed body of Uncle Ho, newly returned from its’ annual refresh visit to Moscow. Later, as Hank told us the story of Ho Chi Minh and the liberation of Viet Nam from the Chinese and the U.S., we saw a group of decorated veterans posing for a photo in front of the mausoleum.

Two digressions here-

(1) The Vietnam War- Half the population of Viet Nam was born after the end of the American War, as it is called here. This includes our 30-year-old guide Nguyen Duc Hanh (call me Hank). Not only is the war in the past, it is not their first or last war. Just before us, the French. Just after, the Cambodians, followed by the Chinese. Although men are age fought in the American War, whether in the Viet Minh or the Viet Cong, they seem to have forgiven, if not forgotten.

(2) Christmas- Big deal here, but more like New Year’s revelries with lots of Santa Claus costumes (even little boys and girls), reindeer head gear, and the like. Although Christmas Day is not a holiday, Christmas Eve is a huge party. All Hanoi, paricularly young Hanoi, is out and about, and streaming in to the area where we are staying, often with the whole family on one 100cc motor scooter.

So much more to tell, as in I’ve barely begun, and it’s time to head off for Bat Trang village, a ceramic-making village near Hanoi.

Love, Toni

Postcard from Baja

We arrived home Saturday, as the full moon rose. As with real postcards, this blog post arrives long after bags are unpacked and clothes are washed.
On the return trip, we took more side trips, camped in more remote locations, relaxed, saw more birds (Mary), spoke more Spanish (Toni), and lived off-leash (Toby). All good.
Birds:

Campsites:

Sights:

Toby:

Until the next trip . . .
Toni

Postcard from Todos Santos

It’s been a quiet week here in Baja California Sur. To make a short story shorter, we arrived in Todos Santos Sunday afternoon, and have been relaxing ever since. Walking, eating, talking, reading, all in perfect edge-of-the-tropics temperatures. All the trappings of a lovely week, complete with a few too many Toby-on-the-beach photos. Speaking of Toby, he’s in seventh heaven. No leash laws, new dog friends around every corner, and Jane DeLozier just down the street. The big white guy is Jane’s Palomo.

Beaches here are long and empty. Perhaps because, as everyone reminds us, they’re not safe for swimming.

There were a few days of driving between Loreto and Todos Santos, and soon after leaving Loreto for La Paz, we encountered a major road construction delay. Guys we couldn’t see were pushing boulders off the cliff, presumably to prevent same boulders from falling on unsuspecting VW Eurovans. After a night on the outskirts of La Paz, we camped near the truly charming village of San Bartolo, in a campground called Rancho Verde. The place was great for hiking, birding (Mary saw two endemic species, the Xantu’s Hummingbird and the Grey Thrasher), and peace and quiet in the Sierra La Laguna foothills. Great vegetation too!

On to Cabo Pulmo, on the Eastern Cape. This fishing village became a UNESCO World Heritage Site to protect the coral reef, the only surviving coral reefs in the Sea of Cortez. Fishing has been replaced by snorkeling and diving. We camped free in the ruins of an RV park, right on the Tropic of Cancer, and enjoyed a spectacular sunrise on our morning walk.

The bird life was pretty good too!

We arrived in Todos Santos shortly after the start of the annual film festival, and have watched two so-so movies (Quebranto and Un Mundo Secreto) from particularly uncomfortable seats. Other hardships include arriving at a lovely restaurant in the middle of an organic farm, only to discover it is closed Tuesdays. The mood improved when we returned Thursday and ate amazing roasted carrot and ricotta ravioli, drenched in pesto.

Tomorrow we leave our little casita, spend a night at Jane’s, then start the return trip, catching a few spots we missed on the way down, and revisiting others we enjoyed. Travelling companions Mabelle and Carolyn left Wednesday, so it’s down to us in the van.

Love to all, Toni

Postcard from Loreto

Mary and I are off on another van adventure, this time to the tip of Baja (southwestern-most point of North America?) and back. We left Prescott on February 3, spent a week camping with friends at Cibola and Imperial Dam, resupplied in Yuma, and crossed the border with travelling companions Carolyn and Mabelle on February 10.
Since then I’ve been on a digital diet. Other than a couple “splurges” on 5 pesos ($0.37)/15 minutes Wi-Fi, the little RV park here in Loreto is our first internet access since crossing the border at Tecate. So far it’s been a grand Baja road trip, my first this far south since 1975, one year after completion of the Transpeninsular Highway. As you might imagine, much has changed. Other than general growth, most noticeable to me is the development of agriculture, from the vineyards in Valle de Guadalupe to the organic farms around Mulege.   I’m guessing this is due to some combination of access to transportation (the paved highway to U.S. markets) and NAFTA, and imagine the agribusiness we see comes at a cost of depleted ground water.
Our fist night in Baja was on the grounds of LA Cetto, a vineyard in the Valle de Guadalupe, source of 85% of wines produced in Mexico. Although there are many small production wineries in the valley, LA Cetto is more of a wine factory, with trucks and machinery rumbling 24/7. We loved the few wines we tasted, and hope to return for a more extended exploration.
From Valle de Guadalupe, we passed through Ensenada and San Quintin, then on to Catavina, land of cirios and elephant trees, followed by Bahia de Los Angeles, on the Sea of Cortez.

We returned to the Pacific and camped at Ojo de Liebre (Scammon’s Lagoon), where we spent a morning among more whales, mostly mother/calf pairs, than you can imagine. No great photos. Not only did I not bring the smartphone, I was a bit overwhelmed by all the action.   On to San Ignacio, then Mulege, where Mary and I were able to visit the cave paintings at Rancho Trinidad. We had to swim (me) or boat (Mary) a very short distance to reach them. Our tour included an introduction to native uses of local plants. It seems every part of every desert plant we see in the desert can be used to cure something. Lots to learn, and I already forgot most of it.

After a night on the beach at El Requeson, we find ourselves in Loreto. A long day of driving should bring us to La Paz tomorrow. From there we’ll circle through the Cabos and up the Pacific to Todos Santos, where we will spend a week.
The van is doing well, and I am loving our portable 80 watt solar panel. Toby is having a great time.
Apologies for the rushed report. It’s late and we’re planning an early start.

Love to all, Toni

Postcard from South Africa- Part 2

In South Africa, the Western Cape is about as far as you can get from Zululand. Both provinces were easing into the summer season. In KwaZulu-Natal, winter is the dry season. Summer is wet. In Cape Town, winter is the wet season. Summer is dry. Everywhere it was early spring, i.e. weather was changeable, temperatures variable, and there was plenty of wind. On the plus side, in KwaZulu-Natal we saw baby rhinos, elephants, giraffes, etc. In the Western Cape, everything was in bloom.
Plants like Bird of Paradise grow wild in the Western Cape, home to a particular plant community called Fynbos.The pink-ish King Protea is the national flower of South Africa.

While in the Cape Town area, we visited nine of the “top 10” sites- the Company’s Garden, the V&A Waterfront, the District Six Museum,Table Mountain, Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden, Groot Constantia Wine Estate, Simon’s Town and Boulders Beach, Stellenbosch, and the Cape of Good Hope. Also Robben Island (where Mandela was imprisoned for 18 of the 27 years he served behind bars), the Cape Flats Townships, the colorful Bo-Kaap (Cape Malay) community and Hermanus (best place in the world for land-based viewing of the southern right whale).

Thanks to travelling companions Ski and Dicy, we stayed in a beach-town time-share. As it was a self-catering unit, we quickly developed a routine of elegant lunches out, with breakfast and dinner at “home” in Strand. This worked particularly well in the Western Cape, home to what might well be the best food and wine I’ve ever enjoyed, in the most spectacular settings, and for the most reasonable prices. Too bad it’s not an easy weekend getaway!

Of course we saw birds. Endemic to the Western Cape are many lovely sunbirds, including the Orange-breasted Sunbird and the Southern Double-collared Sunbird.
Also African Penguins and Blue Cranes, the national bird of South Africa.

It wasn’t all gorgeous scenery and birds. Apartheid ended less than 25 years ago. While there is much to admire in this “rainbow nation,” South Africa still has a long road to walk. Income and opportunity disparities are huge, and fall largely along racial lines. For more on this topic, try this recent New York Times Room for Debate feature. We were lucky to visit the Cape Flats Townships and the city of Soweto, including the pre-prison home of Nelson Mandela (for black South Africans, think Mount Vernon).

If you would like to see movies set in post-apartheid South Africa, I would recommend three very different films: ”Invictus,” “Searching for Sugar Man” and “Material.” On the book front, I’ve read two series of thrillers- Deon Meyer’s Benny Greissel novels (first is “Devil’s Peak”) and Jassy Mackenzie’s Jade de Jong investigations (first is “Random Violence”). Despite translation (rom Afrikaans), Deon Meyers is the better writer and gives readers more of a window into the dynamics of 21st century South Africa. Alan Paton’s “Cry the Beloved Country,” first published in 1948, is still a beautiful and insightful read.

Postcard from South Africa- Part 1

Although we’ve been home for a couple of weeks, South Africa still looms large in my thoughts and dreams. We spent a week or so in the northeast (KwaZulu-Natal Province), a week or so in the southwest (Western Cape Province), and (after missing our flight from O.R. Tambo to JFK) a bonus day in Johannesburg (Gauteng Province). Along the way, we viewed game of all sorts, dipped into South African history and politics, and sampled some amazing food and wine. Trip highlight- Mary saw 122 new bird species!
We began with a stay at Zulu Nyala, a private game reserve not far from the town of Hluhluwe. Our accommodations included early morning and late afternoon game drives, during which we saw cheetah
,
rhino,
elephant, buffalo, hippo,

giraffe, nyala, zebra, impala and more.

Seeing game at Zulu Nyala is not quite the same as seeing game “in the wild.” That we were more able to do on day trips to the St. Lucia Estuary (iSimangaliso Wetland Park) and Hluhluwe/iMfolozi Park, established in the 1890’s.Thanks to a massive conservation effort, Hluhluwe/iMfolozi has the largest concentration of white rhino in the world.
This monitor lizard was bigger and faster than a gila monster.

During our week in KwaZulu Natal, we saw the Southern Red-billed Hornbill, a very wet African Fish Eagle,
,
the Lilac-breasted Roller,the Marico Sunbird, the Brown-hooded Kingfisher,

and a four-foot tall Secretary Bird.
The Western Cape will be a separate post.

Postcard from Aspen

When last we spoke (August 2), we were in Oliver B.C., getting ready to cross over into Washington. Seems like eons ago. Before crossing the border, we visited a couple of wineries on west bank of the Okanogan River, and learned the differences between the Black Sage Bench and the Golden Mile Bench. One is better for reds, one for German-style whites. Many wineries have vineyards on both benches. Although theoretically we were only allowed two bottles each, U.S. Customs was not at all interested in the seven bottles we declared.
From the border, it’s a bit of a blur, and I took less photos to jog my memory, figuring you’ve all tired of forests, lakes and waterfalls. Lucky for me, no details are lost. Mary has been keeping a trip log that’s turned into a bit of a novella.
We headed east on Highway 20 and eventually ended up at a lovely campsite between Beaver Lake and Lake Beth. In the waning light, saw beaver (Mary) and muskrat (Toni & Mary) in Beaver Lake. Thanks to an informational sign in the Cranberry Marsh in Valemont B.C., we know our beavers and muskrats. Beavers get along well in their well-designed lodges. Muskrat lodges are haphazard, and the muskrats get cranky in close quarters. If you see one or the other, the fact you need is ten muskrats = one beaver.
We continued on Highway 20 to Kettle Falls, where we encountered one of those helpful National Park rangers who get get excited about planning your next few days, in or out of their park.   This one sent us to St. Paul’s Mission, near the original Kettle Falls, now under Lake Roosevelt, which holds water from all those rivers we visited in the Kootenay Rockies. Good vibe from the sharpening stone on the bluff, an amphibolite left by the last glacier. Before the Grand Coulee Dam of Woody Guthrie fame, this was the second largest salmon fishery on the Columbia River. A good day could produce over 2000 salmon weighing 16 pounds or more. Now it’s Lake Roosevelt.
We headed north to Sullivan Lake, and were practically back in B.C. We toyed briefly with the tempting idea of revisiting the Kootenays. Interesting area, developed in the early 1900’s as a source of hydro power for the town of Metaline Falls.   Logs were floated downstream, used to build a dam and a flume. When the flume was boarded over, folks in Metaline Falls would walk the flume to Mill Pond, then hike on to Sullivan Lake for a picnic. One of many impressive labor-intensive construction projects we have encountered on this trip, all relatively short-lived.

We camped in lovely forest service campgrounds (our favorites!) on the banks of various creeks (loved Rock Creek and the small town of Phillipsburg), and eventually reached Missoula MT, home of friends Katie & Bill Klutchko. They had just moved into their not-quite-finished home, the 3rd or maybe 4th Bill has built, and we were their first house guests. Beautiful view through their windows to the Bitterroots.
On across Montana, through northern Yellowstone, where we were briefly stopped by bison crossing the road, then over stunning Beartooth Pass to Absaroke, where Deb and Bill Ford have a place, also still under construction. This one is totally off the grid. From the deck it feels like you are flying out over the forest into the valley below. Armed with bear spray and bear bell for Toby, we hiked with them to the headwaters of the Stillwater. Gorgeous!

Left for eastern Montana and the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument, site of Custer’s Last Stand, and spent two or three hours retracing the battle. To do this you drive five miles one way past increasing numbers of headstones marking where 7th Cavalry and Indian Scouts died, fighting Sioux and Cheyenne warriors. All this through rolling grasslands above the flat camping area along the Little Big Horn. The auto tour gives you a real feel for the progress of the battle, and was an unexpectedly engrossing and emotional experience.

Little Big Horn was the easternmost point of our big loop. We continued south and west through Buffalo and Thermopolis towards South Pass. Thermopolis bills itself as home to the world’s largest mineral hot spring. The springs are open to the public for free as part of an 1896 treaty signed with the Shoshone and Arapaho tribes! We visited the public baths, and treated ourselves to the allotted 20-minute soak followed by a hot shower and a walk with Toby along the Big Horn River. The hot springs water originates in the Owl Mountains south of town. As the water seeps down through layers of porous rock, it is heated due to geothermal gradient, i.e., the deeper you go, the hotter it gets. When the heated water reaches the rocks of the Thermopolis Anticline, it is forced back to the surface, where it emerges as hot springs.

We camped at the head of scenic Wind River Canyon, and learned the Wind River and the Big Horn River are actually the same river. This turned out to be our last night of camping. In the morning, we followed the route of the Oregon Trail over South Pass, then descended gradually towards Rock Springs, Wyoming. As we pulled into town to look for groceries and a growler fill, Van’s automatic transmission quickly lost the ability to go into any gear other than reverse.   It got worse before it got better. This was Tuesday, and no shop in Rock Springs would even take a look before the following week. Found a shop in Green River, Wyoming that would, so we had AAA tow us there, hoping it was something as simple as low transmission fluid. No such luck. After some investigation, mechanic Jesse decided we needed a new transmission. We cooked our dinner at nearby Expedition Island, where Powell launched his 1869 expedition, and after a restless motel room night were ready to spend big bucks and give it all time to unfold.
Not so fast. I had great hopes for GoWesty. Their website says they have rebuilt 1997-2003 transmissions on hand and ready for same day shipping. The devil is in the details. Turns out there are many styles and models of Eurovan transmissions. Not only did they not have a CWG 01P300055EX, it wasn’t clear they ever would. Neither Jesse nor I nor Jesse’s used part suppliers nor VW nor Prescott Import Auto back home could locate the right style and model of transmission. Stomachs sinking, we decided to rent a car and think the situation through on the road instead of in a motel room.

Beautiful drive south past Flaming Gorge Reservoir to Vernal, Utah. Next morning we booked a UHaul truck and tow dolly for next Wednesday, then headed on to Dinosaur National Monument. Wow! It is quite a rush to see and touch real dinosaur bones in place. And the rest of the monument is pretty spectacular too. While we were wandering around the Split Mountain takeout from the Ladore Canyon stretch of the Green, I got a call from Samantha at GoWesty. They were parting out a ‘97 Eurovan and found it had the CWG transmission. They expected to have it rebuilt in a month or so. Did I want it? Sold! With our issues mostly resolved, we decided to continue the trip as planned and headed on to Aspen, Colorado to visit my parents.

And Aspen is where we are now. Doing our typical Aspen visit things. Hike up Hunter Creek, Sunday morning rehearsal at the music tent, eat well, etc. Tomorrow is the start of the big USA Pro Challenge bike race, and my parents’ house is two blocks off the Aspen Snowmass circuit route. The racers make the circuit three times, so it should be fun. Toby is thrilled to have the family together, and voices his approval at every opportunity.
Tuesday we drive back to Green River. Wednesday we pick up the UHaul, hitch up the van, and head for home via a pretty much all-interstate route. Caution due to 10-foot moving truck towing 17-foot van. Hoping to avoid backing up, sharp turns, etc.
It’s been a good run. Thanks for following. We expect to be back on the road this winter, this time heading south into the Baja, with Todos Santos as our current destination.