How ironic that this blog is called “Drink and Go Places.” It’s Dry January and we haven’t gone anywhere since November. For those living under a rock, Dry January is that fateful month where one voluntarily gives up all the alcohols they have been imbibing like water since Halloween, hooray! Dayne and I have participated in Dry January for at least five years, maybe longer. It is a delightful new year tradition where we fight back tears and head to the local coffee shop in lieu of a beloved brewery. We valiantly forge forward, encouraged by the hope that February and a delicious New England IPA are just up there on the horizon!

January is also the time I begin contemplating our next adventure. Years ago, when I was a young, single-mother, I worked with a woman in her 50’s named Barbara. Barbara and her engineer-husband had a lovely life. I was fascinated with the fact that each year, they would embark on a week-long vacation to a far-off place they simply selected. They would just pick someplace and go. Just picked; cost was no consideration. So foreign a concept and completely inconceivable to me. At that point in my life I had never even been off the East Coast, had flown exactly twice and the furthest away I’d gone was to Disney (courtesy of my ex-husband’s father, who gifted us the trip shortly before our divorce.)

But Barbara, well, she was always planning a trip somewhere fantastic like Italy or Alaska. Places that seemed much too far a journey from my real life and more akin to fantasy destinations than real vacation options. But I swore that one day I’d have a life like Barbara. Now, 25 years later, it is astounding to me that I have achieved just that. Dayne and I just pick. We pick where we want to go, and we go. Somehow, we manage to pay for it. It blows my mind that I have this luxury and I am well-aware that others are not nearly as fortunate. Counting my blessings is something I do on the regular. But while I know i am lucky, it isn’t all luck. I saw this life years ago and worked for it. I believe in fate, karma and asking the universe for what you need. I don’t have a big house or fancy car, but I have walked in both Alaska and Italy, just like Barbara.

So here’s how the planning goes. Dayne and I both suggest a location for consideration. A lively discussion ensues on why the place the other person just suggested is an asinine choice. This year I selected Australia, he Singapore. So naturally, we’re going to Peru. While Asia has become Dayne’s soulmate over the years, he frequently mentioned South America too. In the past it was a hard no. I believed it to be a dirty and dangerous place that I had less than zero interest in seeing. Since I do all the planning, I secretly settled on Australia and started researching. As I was looking into it, wildfires began raging throughout the country. Heartbreaking wildfires. It quickly became clear that Australia was in no condition for visitors. Another time perhaps, but I suspect the scars that are forming down under will be long in healing.

So we started considering other options. I watched YouTube videos on South America and began warming up. But it was a documentary that changed my mind entirely. It detailed a journey through the best parts of Peru that left me convinced that this South American gem would be next. I knew people would shake their heads and say “Why Peru?” But once you’ve seen it, well, you’ll know why. Not only home to the ancient city of Machu Picchu (reason enough to travel to South America) Peru offers mountain views and geography like nowhere else in the world.

Colca Canyon is a marvel twice as deep as the Grand Canyon.

There are areas of desert where you can dune buggy or sandboard. Vibrant cities of Lima and Cusco offer amazing food and culture.

Lake Titicaca is the highest elevation lake in the world, with man-made reed islands, which are home to locals selling their handmade goods to tourists.

But perhaps most important is the Amazon Rainforest. And this guy.

Few, aside from our immediate family, understand Dayne’s great affinity for Capybaras. The world’s largest rodent is his obsession. His work office walls have no pictures of his wife, but capybaras are represented in full regalia. I’m in the process of researching Amazon lodges where we will stay for a few nights and hopefully catch of glimpse of my husband’s spirit animal. Seriously, i just wrote “I’m in the process of researching Amazon lodges…” Like, what? Whose life is this? P.S. there are A LOT of Amazon lodges that place you in cabins with no window coverings. NO WINDOW COVERINGS, completely open to the Amazonian locals! No, thank you. Ain’t nobody trying to snuggle with a python or tarantula.

So the planning has begun. I’m not going to lie, Vietnam did a number on my knees that still has me walking with a slight limp. #Firstworldproblems. But seriously, priority one is weight loss and strength training. Without dropping a few pounds and making my body stronger, there’s no way ascending more sets of off-kilter stone steps is going be a thing in my life.

Planning a trip takes months and months of research. Studying the map, figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B. Learning which areas to visit and which to skip. Reading endless reviews of hotels and restaurants and determining which areas will make the cut and which will, well, be cut. It’s not easy and for the first time ever we considered using a tour group. But we just aren’t tour people, plus I have the attention span of a dust spec and few hours of listening to a guide reel off historical information is about all I can take. Plus, we don’t want to be on a bus with the same people every day. That one guy in the back? He annoys the hell out of me. We want to be able to go where we want, when we want, and leave it we don’t like it. It’s how we roll. I’m beginning to get a handle on the geography, have learned that we probably won’t be kidnapped, and with each day get more excited to see baby lamas. Plus, I’ve discovered through the years, I’m really good at this planning stuff. Like super good, who knew? Plus, I love the challenge of it. I’m really not sure how planning to avoid yellow fever became my jam. But it did! I would love to go back and tell that broke, single, mom – who could barely afford to pay the rent – just how amazing things were going to turn out. She’d be super happy to hear that. Thanks, Barb.

When you travel the way we do, with 3-5 days in a number of locations, there’s bound to be some transitioning. Sometimes good, sometimes challenging. That is the hardest part about planning the itinerary. I never know how much we will love a place. I continue refining the schedule over many months trying to anticipate the perfect amount of time. Our hindsight is always 20/20. But looking at a map and reading about a country doesn’t always paint the picture accurately. Many times we’ve found ourselves too long in one location and not long enough in another. What I planned for this trip was small city experience, rural, big city, then beach. Of the places we were to see, the big city experience was the least exciting to plan. What I didn’t anticipate was falling in love with Bangkok. As Dayne and I reflected, we realized more than ever, that in many of our travels, it was the bigger cities that stood out. We loved Tokyo more than picturesque Kyoto in Japan. The buzz of a big city gives us an energy.So, after landing in Phuket, we experienced some culture shock. I made a key error when selecting our hotel. It was too far from the main action. Being a Marriott Gold member, I booked at a beautiful resort, with probably the biggest pool I’ve ever seen. It spanned the entire complex, complete with swim up bar! Who doesn’t love a swim up bar?However, for us, it felt like we suddenly boarded a cruise ship. After the luxury and lights of bangkok, it immediately felt like a manufactured experience, rather than a real one. We will never be the type of travellers who seek out a Disney-like experience. I understand that people enjoy a sanitized commercial experience. It’s just not us. One cruise in our lifetime was one too many. But not everyone is the same, and I know many many people who live for cruise vacations. They aren’t wrong, it’s what they like. People are different.So our Grab driver, Yasmine, dropped us at our hotel an hour from the airport, but not before plugging her driving services for the rest of our stay. We connected on WhatsApp and it she would turn out to be a valuable resource. Plus, I admired her hustle.Our room wasnt ready which irked me since I was Marriott gold; it should have been. It was 1:30, not horrendously early for check in. The manager said she had a beautiful upgrade for us, a beach access room, we were sure to love. I was reluctant, since beach access means ground floor. But I let her talk me into it. She walked us over to the bar and arranged a drink on the house. Okay, nice gesture. Dayne and I were both feeling a creeping sensation that we weren’t ready for this. It was like a Caribbean resort, huge, with all the amenities. Nothing wrong with that in general, I love beach vacations! But we just weren’t in that mode. We were in the mode if tuk tuks, street food, and something new around every corner. Weird smells were our tour guides! Its hard to describe what we were feeling. To say this gorgeous resort was a disappointment would be the height of first-world problems.We finally got into our room two hours later. I should have gone with my gut and not taken the “upgrade.” The beach access room had a marginally good view due to it being ground level. Plus, the beach was more of a coral reef, given it was low tide. I missed my highrise home in Bangkok.We decided to get some lunch. After some time spent being ignored by the waitstaff, we scored an overpriced sandwich. We felt trapped. The shuttle service to the strip turned out to be a sham. It ran about 4 times a day and you had to book three hours in advance! Are you kidding me? That shuttle should have been running every half hour, Patong was only 15 minutes away. I selected the hotel because it offered a shuttle!We decided to spend the first night at the hotel. Since it was already 5pm, it seemed smart to just relax. That’s why I put Phuket at the end of the journey. To end the trip on “Island Time.” After a Trip to the pool (and swim up bar) we started feeling relaxed. We ended the night at the rum shack at the waters edge, imagining the tsunami that hit the island 10 years earlier. It was eerie to contemplate the magnitude of what happened in the center of the tourist district of Phuket. Two thousand tourists lost their lives on the day after Christmas. Sitting at the epicenter was sobering.The next morning we decided to forego our rocky beach for one of Natgeo’s “10 most beautiful beaches,” Karon Beach. What a great idea. We texted Yazmine, who picked us up an hour later. The time spent at Karon was magical. The beach was perfect, with soft sand, blue water and playful waves. We spent hours in the warm water. The waves pounded into us and we took to diving straight into them. It was thrilling and exhausting. I remember looking around trying to burn the images into my brain. I was 100% present. For the umpteenth time on the trip, I reflected on my blessings with awe and supreme gratitude. It was a perfect day. Phuket was growing on me! I texted yasmine to come get us. She was at the airport but sent me a photo of her husband who would pick up up in his party van. Hustle level: Family!

We got back to the hotel and took a mid day nap, which was somewhat of a pattern all trip. A time difference of 12 hours meant it was around 3am back home. No wonder we were tired!We got the shuttle into Patong after our nap, fortunately having booked the day before. Ok, Patong beach area is…I dont know how to sufficiently describe it…Like aggressive, polynesian New Orleans on steroids. Its fabulous! Our first stop was a brewery nearby. I knew Dayne had to get that out of his system! Full Moon brewing turned out to be a frequent haunt for us during the trip. The first time we left, the waitress said randomly, “See you tomorrow” talk about foreshadowing!We wandered around the streets of Patong, which were packed with bars, shops, street vendors, massage parlors, anything you wanted. All vying for attention, trying to get you in. We stopped at an outside bar for drinks. This lady came up to us with a bunch of bracelets. Saying nothing she kept shaking them at us. We kept saying no, but she wouldn’t leave. I would shake my head no, and she would slightly smile and nod hers yes. She had this weird charm. I think like Kaa, the snake in junglebook, she was hypnotizing us! Then she pulled out an eyeball bracelet. Dayne, mouth agape said “its like she read my soul.” He negotiated the bracelet for three bucks, wearing it with pride until it broke a day later.We had our mandatory thai noodle dish of the day and ended the evening in a bar with an excellent thai cover band. Thai Ed Sheeran was like the original, sans the red hair, pale complexion and british accent. We missed the shuttle back to the hotel so we had to take a Grab. The other downside to our hotel location is that no matter where you went, the grab cost was 12 bucks one way. So going into town was pricey. But totally worth it.

I learned immediately that the experience you will have in Bangkok is highly dependent on where you stay. Choose wisely my friends. The traffic in this city is world class, rivaling DC or LA. Therefore, having a homebase on the river makes things infinitely easier. The hotel shuttle and hop on/off boat are a gift! Plus, we loved our hotel, everything about it was perfect.

We woke the day after the food tour ready to see more sites. Wat Pho, the reclining buddha was no. 1 on Dayne’s list. We got on the boat and headed to see him in all his glory. We had gone to the complex the night before during the food tour, but were not allowed inside to see the buddha since it was technically closed. A speedy 5 minutes on the boat and we were there! We high-tailed it to the main attraction. Which was massive, but we were disappointed to see this tired guy was housed behind pillars that prevented full on viewing. Forcing angled photo ops. Not sure why this is, but we felt it was less impressive and unfortunate.

Side note: As you can see from the photo, I’ve completely given up on hair and makeup, sorry Bangkok. The humidity immediately wreaks havoc on any semblance of style. Makeup simply melts off. So I looked mighty pretty most of the time!

After Buddha, we mulled another attempt at the imperial Palace. It was hot and crowds were less than appealing. We decided to visit a temple nearby, via tuk tuk. We selected an old guy and immediately discerned his tuk tuk was on its last legs. It huffed and puffed through the city as though the transmission would surrender at any point. We made it to the temple and he smiled and said “where u go next?” We said we weren’t sure. Wanting to make sure we secured a more hearty tuk tuk for the trip back.

The temple was much less grand than the photos and we stayed all of 20 minutes.

Back outside, there was the decrepit tuk tuk driver! He had waited. Sigh. He smiled and waved, saying “Where you go next???” Since he was the only game in town, Dayne bartered a cheap price to Khao San Road. The theoretical backpackers district and Bangkok hub. The Tuk Tuk puffed its was to the area, all the while the driver saying “where you go next.” Hopefully somewhere free from the smell of exhaust. We said we didnt know, and parted ways, halfway expecting to see him pop up on the other end. Thankfully he didn’t.

Khao San Road is a dump. Full of dive bars, crappy food and tattoo shops. We saw a young, grungy american couple waiting for tattoos and questioned their intelligence. Dirty street in Thailand does not scream get a permanent mark on yourself. But hey, its edgy.

After a beer and some fries we headed to the Michelin Star winning Jai Fai, the first street food vendor to earn such a distinction. We had seen the location the night before on our food tour and were excited to try her famous crab omelet. We ordered up a Grab (Thai Uber) and were on our way. We hopped out, surprised to see no line. There was also no Jai Fai. Turns out she was closed on Sunday and Monday. Ugh. After a stint around China Town we went back to the hotel for lunch and a swim. We loved our hotel, fortunately the food was great, pool was too!

That night we embarked upon a pub crawl I had laid out. Using Grab, we went from place to place, trying different craft beers.

At one point, Dayne suggested that we could walk from one spot to the next as it was only half a mile. So we did. However, our friend Google took us down some alleyways of Thailand that I will call “not as safe as preferred.” Dayne pretended it was fine. The area seemed to be where tuk tuk drivers lived, as there were many parked outside homes. If you could call them that. Picture industrial park buildings with garage bay type openings. Well, the people lived in the bays with most of them leaving the doors up! You could see in their living quarters. Some sat out on the street, likely questioning these two Americans wandering their neighborhood. Me too, Tao, me too. The shrill of a baby crying permeated the air. I soon realized that was no baby, it was the sound of a feline mating ritual. Further adding to the macabre setting. Finally we saw street lights and our destination ironically called, “Let the boy die.” We breathed a sigh of relief and entered the thai hipster brewpub, complete with 90s grunge music blaring. It was good.

We called it a night after grabbing a bite to eat.

Our last day in Bangkok started out with a morning visit to a great market. After perusing the options, we chose to share a shrimp omelet, possible hoping to sooth our Jai Fai disappointment. It was awesome! It had some super thin batter mixed in that made it crispy. Seriously delicious. We tried a few more dishes and then walked around the market.

After wandering the surrounding area, we went back to the hotel to hang at the pool one last time, pack and make plans to hit some rooftop bars, which was how we spent our final night.

Bangkok far exceeded everything I expected. I absolutely loved every second. It is one on a shortlist of places I hope to see again one day. Farewell Bangkok, Phuket next.

After a long and deep sleep, I woke up feeling great. Since we arrived at night, we only saw the lights from our balcony view. But in the morning. Wow. We spent an hour just sitting on our 31st floor perch basking in the glory that is Bangkok. I already had the feeling this would be my city. A few people along the way had said to skip Bangkok for northern Thailand. And while I badly wanted to visit the one truly ethical elephant sanctuary in Thailand, it was a long way. We decided on Bangkok. But, more on elephants later.

We headed to the lobby with a plan to take the hotel boat shuttle to the main hub and buy sim cards (which save a ton of money on internet.) We also had to get some cash. At the main port, we were greeted by a million people trying to sell hop on hop off boat passes. Hop on hop off you say? We love those buses as a means to see sites, and by boat…were all in!

We headed out, got our sim cards (12 bucks, unlimited data!) got cash from the atm, and went went back to the port to get our boat tickets!

First stop The Temple of Dawn (Wat Arun) which was so beautiful I forgave its steep steps!

Back on the boat! Now headed to our first market. The great part about the boat is it basically dropped you at the entrance of each site. So easy! At the market we looked for sunglasses, which I overpaid slightly for, but since I needed the special, old lady over you own specs kind, I wasnt being picky. In both Vietnam and Thailand I found markets overwhelming. I hardly bought anything. I looked for souvenirs but it was more shoes, purses, clothes. And foods on sticks. I needed none of that. Dayne ate some things that I didnt recognize and we got back on the boat. Next stop The Imperial Palace.

At the Imperial Palace we encountered the second scam, which I mentioned last post. As we were about to cross to the palace a guy stopped us, gestured at our shorts and said in perfect English, “You cant go in wearing that.” Which is true, but we weren’t sure it was enforced. But, we thought this guy worked for the palace so we turned around. He was very friendly and said we didnt want to go in anyway since there were thousands of chinese tourists on a tour that day. He suggested we should come back tomorrow. Then he told me to be careful of how I carried my purse. Earning trust I guess. Next he pulled out a map and says there’s a great buddha not far, as well as a number of other sites. Dayne was listening intently when my spidey sense starting blasting an alarm. This was one of those guys I’d read about. I quickly shut it down as he was mentioning a tuk tuk at only 4k for the tour (robbery) and pulled Dayne away. Not today, Siam. Not today!

So we skipped the palace and decided go the next day, when we would wear long pants.

It was getting super hot and we were still tired so we decided to head back to the hotel to take a swim in the hotel’s magnificent pool and prepare to meet our group for a food tour by Tuk Tuk! Super good call.

We met our guide, Olive, at 7pm for the food tour. She was fun and funny and our group of twelve headed for our first stop. Each couple boarded their own tuk tuk, which straight up became my favorite mode of transportation! The open car buzzing along the big city, weaving in and out of traffic was intoxicating. I loved every minute of the tour. The food was great, the other couples terrific company and Olive was both informative and hilarious. One of the best nights of our trip.

At each place you ended up with different couple to eat with. Every one was great, even the Korean couple who spoke no english. We ended talking most to an older couple from san Francisco. who were retired young, both attorneys and seemed ok. She was great, he was a little “braggy” but manageable. Until…the elephant pictures. When I was first planning our trip, I badly wanted to visit an elephant sanctuary. I knew anywhere offering rides was an abusive establishment. But I saw great websites offering a day spent trekking, bathing and handling elephants at a sanctuary. I was all about spending time caring for abused pachyderms. Turns out any sanctuary offering these types of experiences, likely torture elephants into submission and aren’t sanctuaries at all. Elephants are not tame. Therefore, in order to interact with humans, they do horrifying things to them, first as babies, to break their spirits. Any place that offers more than feeding is not a real sanctuary. There are only two such places in Thailand, one in Chang mai and one in Phuket. The one in Phuket is suspect. Chang Mai is truly the only legit sanctuary, the rest are tourist traps posing as sanctuaries. Therefore, our trip to Thailand wont include elephants, which is truly wrenching. However I do animal rescue work, I will not support any animal abuse. Period.

So, San Francisco starts showing me pictures of the day spent with elephants. Oh, there they are bathing them, look at his wife there riding hers! Shame he couldn’t manage to get on his! All I said was, “you have to make sure its ethical, they abuse the elephants” And he said, “Oh, it was fine, the elephants looked ok, and they responded really well to voice commands.” Gee dude, why do suppose that is? But I held my tongue. They had a good memory and it was done. I didnt want to ruin it for them. But at the next place I looked over at his table, and there he was, showing his new tablemates the elephant photos. I REALLY had to hold myself back from telling him.

That aside, it was a great five hours scurrying around the city! The food was incredible, we stopped at a fantastic temple lit beautifully at night and got to see the city by tuk tuk! Fantastic. I loved the whole experience. Thailand was becoming my jam!

When researching our trip, I paid close attention to learning about the scams we might encounter. Taxis were high on the list for both countries. People online talked about the “meter turn off” scam more than anything else. Second to that were people trying to divert you from the attraction you’re visiting, saying its closed or crowded. Turns out we would encounter both early on.After touching down at Bangkok Airport, enduring the slow customs staff and collecting our bags, we went in search of a metered taxi. We knew somewhere there was a cue and process to collect a ticket and obtain a taxi. We just couldn’t find it. We knew it was outside. We wandered around looking for the taxi stand, making ourselves targets for the private car hawkers I’d learned were con artists. We finally found the stand on a totally different floor and got in a cue that seemed to take hours. All the while my stomach warning there was only so much it was going to tolerate. We had left Nihn Bihn at 11am, it was now 7pm. A long long day. We asked the girl managing our cue how much roughly our ride should cost. She said no more than 500 bht. We finally got a car and were on our way. The driver didnt know our hotel and although I gave him a print out with the address he still was puzzled. He kept asking the phone number, I kept giving it to him. However. I was unaware I was adding the country code, 66, that was on the print out. He kept yelling 66, what 66. At which point, I was thinking, “you’re a freaking cab driver in this city, were going to a large resort hotel. I shouldn’t have to give you directions!” He pulled over on the highway and had me write the number large so he could dial it, all the while mumbling 66 and other things. F you dude. I just spent the night depositing everything I’ve eaten since 8th grade in to the commode of a lovely family establishment. Don’t poke the tiger, jackwad.He finally got the address and the said something into Google translate. Which he then played for us. It said, “You agree to pay 700 bht plus tolls. please pay the driver immediately.” “No” I said to him. “Meter!” “No meter, No meter” he replied. But Dayne chimed in that we were paying the meter or he would call the police. The whole point of standing in the cab line was to get a metered taxi. We thought it was resolved.I had learned in advance that you do have to pay the tolls, so as we neared a toll he was calling “50 bht 50 bht!!” All we had was a single 1000 bht note (about 42 bucks) that Dayne was highly reluctant to hand it over. I told him you have to pay the toll, so he gave the driver the bhat.The driver went through the toll and without looking at me hands me 300 bht. Attempting to keep the 700 he wanted. At this point, Dayne, who is usually pretty calm, but tired and head achy by now, flipped out! From the back seat he grabbed the money from the guy and screamed “THAT IS MY MONEY!!! I GIVE TO YOU, YOU NOT GIVE TO ME! YOU ARE A BAD BAD MAN!!” He legitimately lost his sh*t. The driver was yelling something back about not being a limousine, and Dayne just kept yelling that he was a crook. I was kinda scared the guy was going to leave us on the side of the highway, but I was also kinda cheering Dayne on! That jerk was a bad, bad man!We settled into an uneasy silence when another toll came around. Dayne still fuming, handed him a 100 bht for the 50 bht toll. Ready for another go! But the driver handed him the change immediately. My alpha-male had clearly worked it out. We sat in over an hour of traffic as the guy mumbled stuff and sighed heavily. FINALLY, at 9pm we arrived at the hotel. The staff opened our doors and began unloading the car. The driver assisted. Now he didnt want to look bad to the hotel staff. He hung his head and refused eye contact as Dayne paid him 500 bht. Yeah, not today Siam, not today! Scam averted!We walked through the doors of our hotel and everything changed. Everyone was so nice. They welcomed us, took our luggage, even gave us a tour of our room, which was beyond glorious! We both collapsed. I ordered a sandwich and fries from room service to split with the hope of keeping something down. A few bites and fries was all I managed. But it appeared to hold. With that, we fell into a coma-like sleep, unaware what would be waiting out our windows, and that our luck would change in the morning.

After the incredible Trang An boat ride, Toe dropped us at our lodging for the next two days, Mr Loa’s Homestay. A small complex with a series of attached villas overlooking a rice paddy. Beautiful. The family was lovely and welcoming.

For a small place, they had a huge menu and since we were starving we ordered up some stir fried noodles with chicken. They turned out to be some of the best we had all trip!

Later, we walked to the small town rife with restaurants and bars. Eventually settling on one that ended up being a den for mosquitos. Since contracting yellow fever and the like weren’t high on my list, we continued on. I googled beer bars near me and up came chookies! Score! We followed google off the main drag, down a somewhat deserted street, questioning our intelligence, when in the distance appeared Chookies, like a mirage! A backpackers haven, this place was awesome, with hammocks, Adirondack chairs and a pizza oven. We ate great pizza, drink good beer and stayed a while. What a find!

The next Day Toe arrived with the english speaking guide in tow. Our plan was to see the area sites with someone knowledgeable. First stop was Hang Mua, which promised an amazing view after only 500 steps. I was mulling it over. I did the steps at the dry cave in Halong Bay, and my knees were not fans of me the next day. The guide told us that you didn’t have to go up, but buy a ticket because the surrounding park-like area was worth it. So we did that. We reached the entrance to the mountain ascent, one look at the steps and I said “no way.” I told Dayne to go ahead, and he said “at least go to the first landing to see some of the view.” I said I would and bid him farewell as he scurried up like a mountain goat.

I decided to go to the first landing. Taking it slowly, I carried on to the second. I was following a hilarious Korean family who were at least in their 60’s, if not 70. If they could do it so could I. I went to the next landing. The views were getting better and better. I was about halfway up when I got a text from Dayne at the top. The picture he sent tugged at my heart. The view was nothing I would ever see again. That was it! I was dragging this big @ss up that mountain if it killed me. It almost did! As I got nearer the summit, the steps grew higher, one of the korean women was crawling from one to the next, as she hoisted herself up! Each step seemed 2 feet high. Vietnamese are tiny people, but their stairs are freaking tall! I stopped to rest, I heard a celebration happening above me with shrieks of delight. The Korean family had reached the summit! With one last push I made it! At the top was the reward. A 360 postcard view of the jutting rock formations, spectacular. No seriously. Spectacular.

After spending some time just admiring the unique beauty of Vietnam, I gingerly made my way down, proud to have made it to the top. We met the guide at the car and were off to a beautiful complex of temples. We toured the complex which was huge, and got the delight of a ton more steep steps at every turn. No wonder Vietnamese are so darn skinny!

Our guide proposed lunch and proceeded to take us to a strange area, where we ended up at a back alley restaurant that charged 180,000 dong for a “set lunch.” The surrounding area was wildly cluttered with random chickens and ducks in cages and was strange even by Vietnam standards.  We called BS on that and skipped lunch at the empty restaurant, that was clearly in cahoots with the tour company.  I could see the owner looking at the guide angrily as we got back in the car. It pissed me off, as this guide was highly recommended all over tripadvisor and this lunch ripoff set menu scheme just seemed super shady.  We called it a day after that and returned to Mr. Loas where they cooked us up some fantastic Chicken Fried Rice. We hung out at the homestay, relaxing, whining about our aches and pains and napping outside.

Later, we headed back into town. I found another cool place where we were seated looking out onto the street and did a few hours of people watching and beer drinking. We were both tired from the day, so we decided to find a take out place where we got two bahn mi sandwiches and headed home to eat in our room.

One a.m. my stomach started making weird noises. Accompanied by the worst heartburn you can imagine. We had – until this night – dodged all food and water borne pathogens. But I broke my own rule of only eating things piping hot.

I quickly took the charcoal pills we had gotten on the advice of a stranger we met in a brewery. They only succeeded in turning my vomit black. Which was so lovely. The bahn mi executed its exit strategy via multiple orifices throughout the duration of the night.

When dawn arrived I was feverish and empty. But we had to pack. Our driver was scheduled for 11am. I forced myself up and did a little gathering and packing. Then returned to bed for a half hour. I proceeded to pack this way over the next two hours, wondering how I would endure this travel day. We checked out, Mr. Loas daughter (who is a lovely, sweet women) was highly concerned for my well-being. She offered many things, water, medicine, and finally settled on some plastic bags for the car ride.

As we traveled to the airport, I felt weak, but not as sick. The worst was over, I hoped. Fortunately the flight was a short two hours. I made it, ready to check in to the hotel and go to bed. Which is exactly what we did. But not before Dayne almost got into a fist fight with the cab driver! More on that next time!

The driver I found via trip advisor arrived promptly at 9 to transport us to Nihn Bihn, South East of Hanoi. We scored an SUV for the two hour drive. The plan was for him to take us to Trang An in Nihn Bihn for a three hour boat ride, wait for us, then drop us at the hotel. We didn’t know his name, but clearly trusted him with all our stuff! The driver, we’ll call him Toe, didn’t udder a word the whole time. Not until Dayne and I were questioning a gathering of people (of course out on the sidewalk.) Dayne said, “Must be a wedding.” To which Toe suddenly chimed in “Funeral.” An hour in the car with him and that’s the only thing he said to us. “Funeral.” But Toe was a good driver and that is important. We got to the boat launch and purchased our tickets for the three hour tour down the river through glorious scenery and caves. Strangely, the rowers were primarily women. We were placed in the tippy boat with a sweet young couple from France, who were spending a month touring Vietnam. Side note: When we informed them of how many PTO days we got in America, they were shocked at how few and didn’t understand the mixing with sick days. Me too.

So, off we went on our way. We passed through breathtaking postcard imagery, with the occasional stop – planned primarily, I’m convinced, to allow us the opportunity to make fools of ourselves trying to get out of the boat. The seats were really low, the boat kinda tippy and the pull of gravity for the “bottom heavy” strong. Graceful we were not.

Back in the boat, we went through the first cave and immediately our thoughtful and caring rower, let’s call her Pham, yelled “WATCH HEAD!!” Lest we be decapitated by the hardened lava-like rocks suspended from the ceiling. “Watch Head.” I got you Pham, you don’t have to tell me twice. All four of us in the boat dived forward attempting to put our heads in our laps! All but Pham who, while sitting upright, was still small enough to clear the jagged guillotines.

The ride through the mountains was the same type of scenery we saw in Halong Bay, but this time it felt far more up-close and personal. It was jaw dropping. Dayne and I had almost skipped this tour, as three hours in a row boat sounded rough. I have three herniated discs in my neck. Long spells on hard seats are murder. But I decided I really didn’t want to skip this. And I’m so happy we didn’t! Fortunately, the low seats were not at all hard on my neck. Sadly, the same cannot be said for my knees. But I’d already learned that Vietnam hates knees, so I was getting used to squatting.

We made our way back to the launch point some three hours later, but not before racing the other tour boats to the finish! We all grabbed some small paddles on board, and helped Pham eek out second place. We had actually helped her off and on the entire trip, because she weighed all of 110 lbs and was hauling four of us like a viking. Like I said in my last post, these people work hard! And it’s freaking hot! So here’s to Pham, may she always remember to “watch head.”

As I’ve said, Hanoi is a town of oddities at every turn. One minute you’re on a street where people are repairing things, the next is one consisting of merchants selling items that are within a theme. Such as kitchen wares street or children’s clothes alley. Kinda fun and confusing. But the constant honking of scooters and impassable sidewalks can start to fray one’s nerves. Also, as Americans, there is this ever-present sense of being mildly ripped off. We began to refer to it as the “American discount.” For example, I purchased two waters marked 2 for 18,000 (yes, 18k) but the cashier charged me 20k. Marginal, but irritating. I called her out and she quickly adjusted, but it was happening all the time. I learned that street vendors are notorious for offering the wrong change. I was well aware that would happen, and was prepared. But I also kept in mind that 20,000 dong is the equivalent to about 80 cents, so I often let it slide. I became fully aware that these folks work hard at the hustle. They have to in order to earn a living. For the most part, my attitude became “I can spare the 80 cents.” However, as a tourist, you will get hassled a lot, and it is annoying. Whether it’s the ladies with crappy donuts in a basket, or the cyclo (bike rickshaw) guy who for some reason was just dying to hump a million pounds of American back to a hotel.

So after wandering around in the chaos, it was finally time to find the beer! There’s craft beer everywhere, and Hanoi is no exception. With our Grab rideshare app downloaded we made our way around Hanoi to breweries and craft beer bars we had on our list. We have found that being beer geeks gives us an insight to a city, most don’t see. While most are looking for attractions, were looking for breweries, which frequently are in parts of a city you normally wouldn’t see. We found about five this trip. With surprisingly good beer. One place had a park with exercise equipment across the street, people were just working out in the middle of the city. Of course Dayne couldn’t help himself but to join.

In our beer travels we also get to talk to people, like the Welsh waiter who told us a tale of overstaying his Visa and waiting to get arrested. You meet interesting folks and it’s always fun. On our last night we went to Beer Corner, a series of hectic corridors, filled with bars, restaurants and night clubs. We sat out in the aisle chatting with a guy from Denmark and people watching. It was like watching a movie. In beer corner, the vietnamese hustle game is strong and in full regalia. It is impressive to sit back, drink a beer and take it all in.

Later we sat in a brewpub that overlooked two street vendors selling t-shirts. It was closing time. But these vendors don’t have an actual shop, their racks were literally set up on the sidewalk and needed to be dismantled every night and put back up the next morning. We watched them pack up a ton of t-shirts and trinkets for about an hour, knowing they would be back in the morning to reassemble everything. I was tired just watching them. Like I said, these people work hard. So our last night was spent drinking beer out among people whose lives are so very different from ours. But you can already tell from all the tourists, that in ten years, the small stools, street vendors and common people making a living will likely be sterilized by big business. The authentic place people visit to see will be replaced with a disney-like manufactured version of itself. Sad, but highly likely. You can already see it happening. I wont miss those stupid tiny stools though. Well, maybe a little. Farewell Hanoi, Dayne is leaving his heart with you in hopes of one day returning. It spoke to his soul like no place we’ve been. Thank you for that. Next stop, Nihn Binh.

I wrote my last post on the coach to Halong bay. A 2+ hour ride from Hanoi, which formerly took four hours before the new expressway. A party of about 20 of us headed to the top tourist destination in Vietnam. We boarded a lovely vessel whose downstairs was set with nice tables for lunch. The upstairs had lounge chairs and other seating to enjoy the view. And what a view! The rock formations emerged from the sea, framed by other formations in the distance giving the entire horizon an ethereal feel. It was like sailing through a painting. There was a lady with a silk kerchief, the kind my mother wore when she set her hair in rollers. The kerchief felt so symbolic to me, as I reflected on my life. I felt rooted in this moment where a kid from a family with too many kids and never enough money could now be sailing through this wondrous place in Vietnam. My blessings have been many and it is not lost on me.

We were served a great lunch with many courses. About an hour into the trip we arrived at the “wet cave.” We could choose a traditional vietnamese boat or a two person kayak. Reflecting on our past canoeing experiences where I ended up in the drink more than once, we picked the boat. It was really fun and there were monkeys! Plus, we stayed dry, that could not be said for the canoe teams.

After reboarding the main boat we sailed another hour to reach the “Dry cave” which our guide, Mr. Bien, said was a trek of 125 stairs up. Ok. so not thrilling, but not too bad, as I figured it was good practice for the 500+ stairs we will ascend for an upcoming attraction in Nihn Binh.

Turns out Mr. Bien is a liar. We ascended the 125 stairs, to a beautiful view, then we descended into the innards of the cave, which admittedly, were incredible. But then we had to make the journey up again, on even steeper stairs to get out. We were all sweaty, tired and smelly by the time we arrived back to the boat. The crew invited us all to the top deck to enjoy “happy hour” (and maybe air out our stenches) on the journey back. The light was fading slightly and it gave the view an even more majestic feel. It was honestly the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Some folks on trip advisor had said to skip halong bay because it was so “touristy.” Not in a million years would I advise that. Visiting Halong Bay is an experience I won’t forget and will be forever grateful for the path that brought me there.

Mr Bien showing us the exact spot that is printed on their money

First 125 steps

Day 1 in Hanoi is in the record books. We started the day heading toward the lake area near our hotel. The roads are closed to traffic, so it’s a relaxing saunter. It’s a pretty area, with a fancy bridge and a cool looking tower in the middle of the lake. But our favorite part was this area with rows and rows of electric cars for the kids to drive. It took me a while to realize that the cars were remotely operated by the parents, after I questioned the logic of putting an infant behind the wheel! We roamed around hanoi, soon learning that once you leave the lake area, it’s a free-for-all trying to walk. On the sidewalk there are trees growing out of the concrete, parked scooters and vendors selling or servicing items. Not to mention the people who set up shop cooking (and eating at small tables) in the middle the path! One is forced onto the street to do battle with the cars and millions of scooters, which sometimes are carrying whole families or the odd refrigerator. We had to study up on how to cross the street, as there are no ebbs in traffic flow. You step out, walk at a steady pace, and the drivers go around you. Scary the first time, old hat by the end of the day! It wasn’t long before we found a craft beer bar, then a brewery! After a few, we decided to buy an egg roll from a woman who was squatting on the sidewalk frying up stuff. Normal. She seemed to ignore us as we asked to buy two, which was happening a lot when it came to service, but five minutes later another woman appeared, took our money and the squatter handed up two perfectly cooked rolls. They were banging! As we walked, we just happened by the famous “train street” where the tracks run through what looks like a neighborhood, exceptionally close to the buildings. Of course those resourceful vietnamese set up food stands and makeshift cafes for tourists. Sadly, it’s recently been blocked off by the police and the vendors have been shut down. Because, well, death by train is not so uncommon it turns out. However, it hasn’t stopped the kiddies from playing on the tracks.

We made our way back to the hotel to change before meeting up with our street food tour. After finding our tour guide “Tommy” we headed out to find out just how far we could push our hips and knees. I cannot for the life of me understand the idea of the low stools that are everywhere here! No higher than 10 inches off the ground, they are the most popular seating choice of the vietnamese. Occasionally you will see places that have slightly higher stools…but sometimes lower too. As we followed Tommy into places we never would have found on our own, we said a little prayer at each venue for the high rise 12 inch stools. At the first stop Dayne made the mistake of attempting to move closer to the table once seated and toppled over. Not gonna lie, I’m glad it wasn’t me.

We ate delectable things while precariously perched, and trying not to fall over. I never stopped worrying if my knees were going to give up and go home. But the tour was great fun, the other couple we were with were lively canadians, and Tommy was a trooper, even bringing us into a local beer joint when he learned we all liked beer. Overall a great time. A great day. But, I think I pulled a muscle sitting.