tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21609315196669547402024-03-05T07:15:13.578-08:00 Pete and Pen on the Road AgainPete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-69628160318976959332018-05-28T22:43:00.001-07:002018-05-28T22:43:23.239-07:00Classic CarsCame across three of my favourite classic cars on a walk in the countryside yesterday...<div><br><div><img id="id_8368_d077_66fa_35d" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw80RzP1dtc7FSRli-QZBN8T2pHR-J-OABU2aT0EETjB4jkzA4nAzKs5bZsfK-vO8EC_GrZI4LUTeqmA8EL20REjWENWIU4YfBF31XfEh9Rfsc4Pz1sb0xgwTDgDIDaEUtKm9MAlLpMDx_/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_3946_5ea9_6e86_55fe" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS9dPkkXTtJawqV12tgmFVtH_E37KDZcNJ4d3PqPPJW8HNpqSg8UJMj2D-CWROzhHDMxWmmH8RQ2Twr-w4ZllTcAqs1OdZSFDR3PRH4wG4ttpwLRXBFarZADBOW2bhmvImkf3Dp2Po8Mb/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_5080_ba84_2365_9432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2US8qVjEByz2f1lUEWH9PMY_QcAyV7Hp-MkU_JGFrGeoakLqbID0OiKDjd2Stdt8iknJaENoUEOWNAmq1s9DxV5sDo4g5DK6FWGXVack5k4ikK-5LtnXhHli2JMZQFnNjflfHgIY8ijmW/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br>... and a couple of dream cars in a mall last week...<br><br><img id="id_a1de_631d_7c0f_2efd" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTEMUX6CXmpnv8Ggto8JPogA9augG1A4PTpykNqRiZ6dEkblXkriNi3-i11T1IoL8FO83LB6duHpGHFlj7yqzCN6t_1Jf9FZInT21LkDEv02E5Proa8qZja2yE5xBx3Chh2IQPM0Dih0o/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_881a_9e87_9fbb_5f03" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rHR18kHN5UZ5jjCCpuSLNZ8OSiz8qaMZAIDh1r_GtIY0DdWT1iW3tedVyGk3u2sZJyMrj_YEfJle_TywfSlb79SXko0_XjDbkADiSvE_IS9I2l7x3179jcQXe_3deikw5b30raZUa1Xq/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-47829239579002029942018-05-28T22:33:00.001-07:002018-05-28T22:33:41.222-07:00The Cotswolds - Artistry in Stone<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">We’ve come to Tetbury in the Cotswolds to spend a few days with Pen’s cousin Paul. I’ve been aware of the picturesque reputation of the region for years, but have never visited. This week we’re suddenly immersed in it, not just passing through but actually living in one of the historic stone homes that dot the region. Best let some pictures do the talking...</span><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div><img id="id_b46d_7369_a0c3_db75" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrflVuZaIZQ2XQhrtigc_q-Vc_s9KxgZhrSpapfMWxelUUjJ_gjZ9xDQi84OIXhITUXngqbQcUSXvMbXVaF0PnNq1C5WJIan4BodMEKr5UwvqwTlN73mosRdgg-11LPRgp9lI_YaC3wdQ/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_7290_444e_22ff_55b0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC38MO3o9_o2vKXiWrzyrAcNrFvlYwookyt0eyYjV3kNFVewhWaqF8UqycWHRtxf5pqFP0M1wbuuAsHvvtLq317390n7nPMhQ2xej0UGho5SyWdjGs5d6dM6Vtu_YbjLMZx7AIA9p5QhBH/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_ae76_9860_9dab_522f" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKdJ44JHAetnwGYYLhdN5kZt7c3UOoFKptRCU7V0qkqn_wI1DgOGjEgeueuJo047m67dGsn8dl5v3IcqOmMiJkgmoaIXyBS2QkZfnHjsDW5UYyEzfP5w5h0tMeRIcZ8Ue_59-Yllmpi0oq/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_ce41_ad07_f8ba_62fe" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FCUBBdqrmIFqnP-7qcVx_HygmQgr8I41UbecU8dR466Uz3u_1hoM6JvwhhZPcxJAM7BW0sy-0Cpj4nvf9dMY3EI4fJoSSG_8BipJhEhZbbvJ9ISocuGiuVlzGO2Kd_VHp6B18wCPY6V-/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_5f41_89f3_f103_62ea" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpc74R0wvoNAsYHvg8w6uzHx0DxmdHqH3yTFSqmYnANTS-PrVCpv4WLfTtJS25Nupwd9NWI244sux5hXhJBd_JKKQQajilALUPOYJhHAbEIfhSsmqIhPH4k4ztY9Wplb-s9D-8xiFcOmOK/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_a46e_51c0_9715_c86e" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSz4-9IqtmxFdL5j7_WRVgfB5sWHkXiba6Mu-1CcfI0lp5lp8tNoTW4h4KGGTzuGE8XvNw0As_1T_eTyvbzZQBoJ9d0ffA8rLMHIvE0PZXenfE4rANch-WloO4EDlIwM_9F6rDAkfWj5I/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-49030289842764982972018-05-26T00:18:00.001-07:002018-05-26T00:18:17.578-07:00Reality CheckWhoops! Guess I spoke too soon. Yesterday we spent an afternoon in the Brent Cross shopping mall. While it’s true that British business men both young and old appear to be very fit and svelte, the mall demographic was more representative of the average body type. None-the-less my observations in the CBD have stuck with me and I remain determined to firm up my mid section for the long haul.Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-72193331605068001982018-05-22T23:27:00.001-07:002018-05-22T23:27:03.604-07:00No beer guts please - we’re BritishDuring our first foray into the bustling London metropolis, I was immediately struck by the preponderance of straight-backs, tight abs and perfectly fitted tapered shirts of the men-about-town - both young and middle-aged. Of course the city swarms with tourists, who far outnumbered locals at our Piccadilly Circus destination. But the locals are easy to spot at a hundred paces. On this warm summer day they are mostly clad in smart suits or slacks with their ‘modern fit’ shirts hugging their modern, fit, bodies. They stride confidently among the throngs of punters, brief cases swinging nonchalantly at their sides.<div><br></div><div>There has been some kind of revolution here since I last visited 20 years ago. No more beer guts; no more fish and chip guts; no more flab. I found myself instantly inspired to suck in my own protuberance, brace back my shoulders and do my best to walk tall. I was reminded of the striking appearance of Prince Phillip, just a few days before and a few hundred meters away, at 96 walking proudly ramrod straight to his place an his grandson’s wedding ceremony, just weeks after hip surgery.</div><div><br></div><div>There appears to be a new 21st century element to the old British “stiff upper lip”. I’m inspired to adopt their “stiff upper back” as well. And whatever gym tricks they’re using to achieve such notable results!</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_a648_cb60_ec7f_45dc" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1SOFZlKxUr0CqAtdTq-ly1uNVBL5azev8llhFGhFbiAQdNHNkbp3QcPLMsPtnOoKTXW366Hqf33QWJFtGXCtaTX8rNwPkXjNSFgkEFgrvIdDexNCdB2aPmBpCduEl91q7bAmkinc_0_S/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-72211615030321525712018-05-22T22:09:00.001-07:002018-05-22T22:09:27.611-07:00Arborarium Extraordinaire!An early morning ramble down Southside Road, Inverness, set me to contemplate the early history of this leafy lane. At first I was struck by the beautiful heritage stone homes, from cozy cottages to grand mansions, mostly set behind bulky stone walls. Then I began to notice the exotic gardens and an incredibly diverse collection of trees and shrubs from around the world. <div><br></div><div><img id="id_c40f_5014_e86f_96de" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFTWIf8FaUMyDSnCPg0jR7t34g4y9R27uGX1HtMZeES-2CXhlGadARovQl-fJ-X0OuDfJaQsmQxsmW-51JPriHYmsxUHXeqB7N2vHWvX-dyURT0FvJ4mGEopfMfL5cJOeEaYFQfWDuGru0/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br>Western Yew?<br><br><div><div>How could it be, I wondered, that in one tiny corner of this historic town, so many plants “from away” were thriving here in the northern reaches of Scotland. Towering over one particular front garden was a massive Douglas Fir, as big as the monster that sits at the top of our driveway on Vancouver Island. Just below it, a Canadian Red Cedar and a Broad Leaf Maple. This signature ‘Canadian Corner’ had obviously been planted by someone celebrating another time and place. A little further on, at the intersection of Southside Road and Old Edinburgh Road, I found a thriving Eucalyptus, emblematic of my other motherland. Many of the exotic trees I spotted were beyond my limited knowledge, but obviously imported from far away.<div><br></div><div><img id="id_a752_5f83_efe_2338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBomIrdOasfysB-KJfl3CLmyMEFG3I2AFJN8-KZTgyEb8q1mIXuFZEKc81k1MjOhMx66RzsVlONCTrCFdXy8mkKRxAPxPuyPjWIbR4QfhBKtxnkQ7DEkLJVpVdX5f1ukkLymGKuCIW8KCb/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br>Douglas Fir<br><br></div><div>When I asked John Ridgway about my discovery later in the day, he explained that this part of town had originally housed wealthy tea plantation owners who had obviously returned home with seeds and seedlings in memory of their oversees adventures. (My discoveries would suggest that there were maybe a couple of fur traders and perhaps a couple of ex convicts living among the tea planters!)</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_9a7e_82f6_a522_d6cb" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJDWn3hokF89_mBRzNwadqJg8lIoTSBGDGedGIxGJdl-1a_hhlR8ePSuvH9VPnphBcoNZ2FXzZw6020KxEnjl8u3hU9LR3VsCqGH1X2nsC2b_L8KpI-wGlq6raDCfbXpNHK7TXxN3SgRh/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br>Eucalyptus </div><div><br></div><div>My entrepreneurial spirit led me to contemplate an interesting hobby-job. How fascinating it would be, with an arborist’s assistance, to estimate the age of a sampling of the more exotic Southside Road trees and shrubs, then research the titles of the related homes to determine who the likely planters were. One could then develop a walking tour of this beautiful neighbourhood, merging its history and biology. Hmmm... Maybe I should initiate a franchise of the concept, with the proceeds funding our next visit to Scotland!</div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-80265724072040860052018-05-22T20:01:00.001-07:002018-05-22T20:01:48.988-07:00Crown Deli, InvernessJet lag eased me out of bed at 5.30 AM the morning after our reunion celebration, so I snuck off to explore the historic neighborhood of the Corriegarth Hotel. Surprised to discover the tiny Crown Deli open for business at 6.00 AM on a Saturday, I peaked inside to spot my favourite appliance at that time of day - an espresso machine! “Any chance of a coffee at this time of day?” says I. Roddy Morrison the owner said not a word, but turned briskly to his shiny machine and deftly set about the daily ritual I generally enjoy at home.<div><br></div><div>Roddy’s tiny wedge-shaped corner deli specializes in custom catering of home style Scottish delicacies, several of which were already well underway. Roddy rolls out of bed at 3.00 am and after a short walk to work, commences preparing ingredients for the day’s orders by 3.30 AM.</div><div><br></div><div>I guess my strange blended accent made it obvious that I was “from away”, so we chatted about Vancouver Island and Tasmania. Roddy had two relatives who’d migrated to Tasmania, and I had a Morrison friend years back, so we easily found a mutual Tasmanian connection. While one of Roddy’s relatives had remained in Tassie, the other returned home only to drown in the River Clyde!</div><div><br></div><div>After a pleasant chat in the time it took to make my coffee, Roddy set me on my way for a delightful morning walk, which I’ll describe in my next post. However on my return to the Corriegarth an hour and a half later, I popped back into the Crown Deli to secure two more lattés for Pen & me. A lovely start to my day!</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_2710_1a7d_562c_987" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoGu3SF7zqLxqCi2gWUs-S8iczVch9XFNNfiV2plEnoHUJzPmTFbuTnwoKfeQyH-IH9zCABz9ERc4Z7CtbfHdpV6alO7bcSPHhzNyDXRPzxnKe-sLjnL8i3isQHUjaZJ7Bhl85Ct9F2LK/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><br><br><br></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-53655868025016065192018-05-19T23:20:00.001-07:002018-05-21T10:01:01.306-07:00Reunion Celebrations<div><img id="id_8d42_efe0_e853_fe00" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgKX2Hpb9SB9k3fBp8FJl9f34LK26Eijm1ehXpeeeLUd5buYE-Joangezw8n338GRWuYgDOS7U40JMtJVDFuf2_NWgdtIrfxL9Mlc7Ie5565F4gYgIRJZSDnn8n5vuZWkm8fLXQoTSsUW/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Photo: Tony Dallimore </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Well the past couple of months of planning and preparation culminated in a marvelous gathering of Whitbread crew mates and partners in Inverness, Scotland May 18-19</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">To kick off the celebrations, five crew and partners gathered for lunch at the historic Corriegarth Hotel on Friday May 18. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mid-afternoon, John and Marie-Christine Ridgway hosted a delightful garden party at their charming cottage on the banks of the Ness River, replete with champagne, fresh strawberries and cream.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was here that we presented John and MC with a gift expressing our gratitude for the adventure of a lifetime - a photograph printed on canvas capturing a constant Southern Ocean companion, the Wandering Albatross.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Our evening celebration included an excellent 3 course meal at the Corriegarth, interspersed with a few surprises. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In December 1977 during our stop-over in Auckland, Paul McCartney launched his recording “Mull of Kintyre”. Someone brought the tape aboard and it promptly became our theme song for the remainder of the voyage. The significance of the song for us all lay in the fact that the Mull of Kintyre was the last prominent headland to be rounded on the final leg of our return voyage to Ardmore on the north west tip of Scotland. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With a little help via the Web, I commissioned 17 year old champion piper Angus MacFee to enter our dining room playing Mull of Kintyre. It was a delightful moment to watch the faces of my crew mates as they first heard the pipes in the distance, then recognized the tune, and finally came to the realization that Angus had actually come to pipe for our celebration.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In sealed envelopes at each couple’s place-setting were lyrics for the song, so after the initial grand entrance we all joined the pipes in a lusty rendition of our forty year old theme song.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The next surprise arrived immediately afterwards, as our hostesses Bella and Maya were piped into the room carrying bottles of Fonseca Bin 27 Port and copies of The Fonseca Story. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">During the race, Fonseca sponsored us with numerous cases of their fine vintage port, which became the staple of our daily “happy hour”. At each port of call, a fresh pile of cases would await us on the dock ready for the next leg.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Through their London agent Mentzendorff, Fonseca generously sent a case of Bin 27 to our reunion, plus 8 copies of their beautiful coffee table book celebrating the history of the company. We all signed the books as a record of the gathering, also honouring our piper and hosts with their own signed copies.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">After dinner we gathered around a screen for a slide show. Each couple had been invited to submit 10 photos capturing some of their favorite memories of the past 40 years. Crew member Tony Dallimore has continued his lifelong passion for photography which first blossomed during the race. Tony compiled our joint photo collection into a delightful and very professional presentation, with each crew member narrating their own set. It was a great way to round out the evening, accompanied by tea and desert.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The following morning we reassembled for breakfast, continuing to recount numerous memories of our shared adventure around the world, blended with family stories from the past 40 years.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class=""><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The icing on the cake happened at 11.30 am May 19 when our friends Colin and Ana Ladd, Penny and I dropped in to bid John and MC farewell before driving back to Aberdeen. The TV coverage of Harry and Megan’s wedding had just commenced and John and MC insisted that we join them for the occasion. Armed with a bottle of Fonseca Bin 27 to toast the happy couple, we settled into a comfy circle with our crew-mates once again, to take in the television spectacle of the year.</span></div><div class=""><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class=""><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In addition to compiling the magnificent reunion slide show, Tony acted as official reunion photographer. By the time he arrived home from his 7 hour train journey from Scotland, Tony had edited and posted a great record of our gathering. </span></div></div><div class=""><font color="#000000"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/gp/t3imaging/661w2Q" class="" id="id_8ea9_4281_538b_370c">https://www.flickr.com/gp/t3imaging/661w2Q</a> </span></font></div><div class=""><font color="#000000"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></font></div><div class=""><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">In 1977-78, Tony captured a fabulous set of images of our adventure, topped up with a few from other sources. View that collection here:</span></div><div class=""><a href="https://www.flickr.com/gp/t3imaging/91ssvu" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">https://www.flickr.com/gp/t3imaging/91ssvu</a></div><div class="">Out of respect for Tony’s private Flickr account, please don’t forward either of these links.</div><div class="">Enjoy!</div><div class=""><br></div><div class=""><img id="id_5a3e_6b05_ee52_fd5c" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxXeSeH50X0CEDfX0Cc1TaBZacD1JDfcK6Ja0V147MbFU9mQprvfHYN6MtiVHXF-G0jBbxAgCqf-LzEXBdJL87HkokMEGzL2LECgl9nFNMMwIbB809E8rWeu3fq6EoHIiAn1_gP2IRaG6/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br>Cap’n John, Mate M-C, Pen and Pete - Inverness 19/5/18</div> Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-33833462314982491722018-05-13T07:51:00.001-07:002018-05-13T09:50:39.379-07:0040th Anniversary Crew Reunion<div>For the past few months, I’ve reconnected with ten of our Whitbread Race crew. We’ve remained in touch with five through the years, but tracking down the other five took a fair bit of online sleuthing. Once the connections were made, Pen and I decided that the 40th anniversary warranted a reprise of the 20 year reunion we organized in 1998. That was celebrated aboard English Rose VI at Ardmore, Scotland, where the whole adventure began. </div><div><br></div><div>After canvassing the group, we finally settled on May 18-19, gathering at the Corriegarth Hotel, Inverness, Scotland. Seven of our crew plus our partners will gather to reminisce over lunch, dinner and brunch. Pen & I will also meet with our Southern Ocean navigators, Tom Woodfield OBE who piloted us safely from Cape Town to Auckland (via the Antarctic pack ice) and Alan Green, longtime Secretary of the Royal Ocean Racing Club, who piloted us from Auckland to Rio via Cape Horn. That gathering will take place over lunch at the London HQ of the RORC.</div><div><br></div>On Wednesday May 16, Pen & I fly Victoria - Vancouver - London - Aberdeen, on the first leg of our journey. Check back for a re-cap of our celebrations!<br><div><br></div><div><br></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-64439283258883939272018-04-24T10:42:00.004-07:002018-05-09T22:55:45.644-07:00 Whitbread Round the World Race<div style="text-align: right;">
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<h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The first Whitbread Round the World Race (now the Volvo Challenge) took place in 1973-74. When the fleet pulled into Cape Town South Africa, I was mate</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">aboard the 50' cutter Active, built in Hobart Tasmania, 1947 (a good year!). As sailing instructor with the Offshore Sailing School, I spent 6 days a week living aboard, teaching mostly South African and Rhodesian businessmen 'the</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">ropes'. Just by chance, at the time of the Whitbread fleet stop-over, Active was moored at the Cape Town Yacht Club for some refit work, so for a couple of weeks I was enveloped in the atmosphere as crews and supporters readied the yachts for their foray into the Great Southern Ocean. Exciting times!</span></h2>
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When the fleet sailed out of Cape Town heading for Auckland, Penny & I drove onto the lower slopes of Table Mountain to view the start and share a picnic lunch. Sitting there in our VW Beetle, Pen turned to me and said "You'd love to be out there wouldn't you!" I raised my eyebrows and grinned.<br>
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Unbeknown to me, in advance of the second Whitbread Race in 1977, Pen wrote to the organizing committee at the Royal Naval Sailing Association to enquire about getting a crew position. (By this time we were living in London.) Pen was told that the RNSA kept a list of wannabe crew members, made available to skippers on request. I sent off an application and resumé, and thought no more about it until, out of the blue, a letter from British Adventurer John Ridgway. I've never forgotten his opening line: "Dear Peter, We are looking to stiffen up our foredeck crew for the Whitbread Round the World Race..." Of course my heart leapt! I subsequently joined about a dozen other invitees for a week long try-out at the John Ridgway School of Adventure at Ardmore, Scotland. Somehow I was the lucky bloke, thus beginning the adventure of a lifetime.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our crew ready for the adventure of a lifetime, August 1977</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXVTdvV-vmEMIhtTG7jd6pckJ6KaLFz4ga2FpyGWrpF_ccbKs-lImUupIosdhhi3croXZAVUQ9dT35srCnVtgs-olcNUOlyHCj8mtdFKleeoGC1-u3LyiTzjUbwMJMKa12GSArkvpVLXlM/s1600/Debenhams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1244" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXVTdvV-vmEMIhtTG7jd6pckJ6KaLFz4ga2FpyGWrpF_ccbKs-lImUupIosdhhi3croXZAVUQ9dT35srCnVtgs-olcNUOlyHCj8mtdFKleeoGC1-u3LyiTzjUbwMJMKa12GSArkvpVLXlM/s640/Debenhams.jpg" width="496" id="id_e7d7_55a9_cca5_644b" style="width: 496px; height: auto;"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Departing The Solent, August 27, 1977. Photo - Beken of Cowes</td></tr>
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<br>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-14435783544135602962014-12-14T16:33:00.000-08:002014-12-14T16:34:42.136-08:00Gardening in the BushWhen we started the blog a year ago, it was intended to provide us with a site to share a few travel experiences and pictures. Once we returned home to Vancouver Island in April, we hung up our backpacks and quit blogging. We'd drawn up a long list of home improvements to occupy our time and didn't see the point in sharing our everyday chores. I also decided to quit my brief foray into Facebook. Now with Christmas just around the corner, the blog seems like a reasonable place to connect once again with family and friends, share a few pictures and stories of some of the highlights of our year and send warm holiday wishes to all. This post shares some of our gardening efforts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjBLIlSiWRrGEscKQm4Agc40roaQHY-Q1bKIZ6hW_jOCEoo5ZSLuULrUI590VkpNVgEVqkaANL8jLmwdfLpPwVaP05NfRV06TkzNeTtefTWWaOMtu1p2hVAmjpa8ZqKeacm9sX0m99PDd/s1600/Raised+bed+mk+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjBLIlSiWRrGEscKQm4Agc40roaQHY-Q1bKIZ6hW_jOCEoo5ZSLuULrUI590VkpNVgEVqkaANL8jLmwdfLpPwVaP05NfRV06TkzNeTtefTWWaOMtu1p2hVAmjpa8ZqKeacm9sX0m99PDd/s1600/Raised+bed+mk+I.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raised Bed Mk 1</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMVzaxvhm_m7p_kz2a38xkrhpwsJyHM7Mm-84ZAXjQSfhH8q6wYmaV0_jgFLIZV521bqNlwN-SAECIO29PjQIVYmMDX3Cz69Gzemgu_BVr5eU-zhkahNnN3eV1jjmacZiwijooJ2TQeAL/s1600/Raised+bed+mk+III.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMVzaxvhm_m7p_kz2a38xkrhpwsJyHM7Mm-84ZAXjQSfhH8q6wYmaV0_jgFLIZV521bqNlwN-SAECIO29PjQIVYmMDX3Cz69Gzemgu_BVr5eU-zhkahNnN3eV1jjmacZiwijooJ2TQeAL/s1600/Raised+bed+mk+III.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mk III with refined legs</td></tr>
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During a restless night in Vietnam in March, I turned my mind to our plans for a vegetable garden when we returned home. Raised beds are a popular way to garden these days, so my initial plan was to build traditional wood framed beds on the ground. Then it occurred to me that I could save our knees and backs by raising the beds right off the ground to waist height. At first I envisioned wooden legs, but realizing that they would be likely to rot fairly quickly, I decided the legs should be steel. This led to further scheming to incorporate a cold frame support into the legs, thus providing us with a poor man's greenhouse. In our setting in the bush, we also have to keep deer out of our garden, so the cold frame would do double duty as a frame for deer netting. The results are pictured at left.<br />
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When we cleared a space in our acre of bush for our house 32 years ago, we used some of the huge Douglas Fir trunks as a retaining wall for our back yard. These had rotted away pretty badly over the past few years and I'd looked forward to replacing them with a proper stone wall as one of my first retirement projects. The last job I ever did with my dad was to build a 6' red granite retaining wall in Coles Bay, Tasmania. The skills I learned on that project quickly returned. $50 worth of field stones from a local farmer plus loose rock I'd<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLsErPjQKpOi2pxlLJssJ5Kj2JxBWuWqQMjS4kv7sL4AajEVLvr9fcipUmWB3UwhE0U0W2c3tQ_Ig1FrkOhRwHs9erc3jUwIH84O1LF7hbjiGo0CjK755nww2pdPC2jRf28gOY50_bzfjm/s1600/wall+-+deer+fence.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLsErPjQKpOi2pxlLJssJ5Kj2JxBWuWqQMjS4kv7sL4AajEVLvr9fcipUmWB3UwhE0U0W2c3tQ_Ig1FrkOhRwHs9erc3jUwIH84O1LF7hbjiGo0CjK755nww2pdPC2jRf28gOY50_bzfjm/s1600/wall+-+deer+fence.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wall and deer fence</td></tr>
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stockpiled provided enough material for a wall 40' long by 3' high.<br />
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While I enjoy building the garden beds and walls, Penny is the real gardener. As well as planting our raised beds and newly fenced plot at home, she also established a large garden on friends property a few miles away. The advantage of that property is that it enjoys all day sunlight, unlike our wooded acreage that gets a peep of sun for just a few hours during the summer. Between the 2 gardens, Pen managed to raise an excellent crop of potatoes, carrots, lettuce, beets, beans, peas, chard, kale, tomatoes, parsnips, peppers and egg plant. Our most self sufficient summer ever!<br />
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-17422076495730511452014-04-10T19:43:00.001-07:002014-04-10T19:58:26.275-07:00Back where it all began!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEftU-kK3sWeb2DRHx7WKhWMDRv1S440e352pTBW6rQiJ1UtVCuQ-fV-EazBP8RwApRRfs3HJhJbdrgnUpgo4TO10Pn19lyOE3pVeE0Rbv7DM76HsVVWV1QrrnrsyVgIIswVXWpl9gO4a/s640/blogger-image--1020315092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEftU-kK3sWeb2DRHx7WKhWMDRv1S440e352pTBW6rQiJ1UtVCuQ-fV-EazBP8RwApRRfs3HJhJbdrgnUpgo4TO10Pn19lyOE3pVeE0Rbv7DM76HsVVWV1QrrnrsyVgIIswVXWpl9gO4a/s640/blogger-image--1020315092.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;"> YVR April 10, 2014. Finale of 132 days on the road.</p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;"> (Trying to hide the Starbucks!)</p></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-79819108711553276662014-04-09T07:55:00.001-07:002014-04-09T10:57:09.206-07:00Backpacking Buddies Forever!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDy9fs8IZDMg0EpYKmMbV3DHXl8e5MSYFcyzQ6kCtNSA6C-wjnBKfNPVhSy5SWW6b9YidcZaGQwIldsSjWLAK8Yw_P3yGLBFbZX0RxpPMeQ0b94hUNlKl-tVcO5-Mnw8lQbN7iHNO7zf4/s640/blogger-image--720804255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDy9fs8IZDMg0EpYKmMbV3DHXl8e5MSYFcyzQ6kCtNSA6C-wjnBKfNPVhSy5SWW6b9YidcZaGQwIldsSjWLAK8Yw_P3yGLBFbZX0RxpPMeQ0b94hUNlKl-tVcO5-Mnw8lQbN7iHNO7zf4/s640/blogger-image--720804255.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bangkok April 9, 2014</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://chart.apis.google.com/chart?cht=map:fixed=-70,-180,80,180&chs=450x300&chf=bg,s,336699&chco=d0d0d0,cc0000&chd=s:9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999&chld=AT|BE|HR|CY|CZ|DK|FI|FR|DE|GI|GR|IT|LI|LU|MT|NL|NO|PT|SK|ES|SE|CH|GB|VA|BB|BR|CA|US|BT|KH|CN|TP|IN|ID|LA|JP|MY|MM|NP|PK|SG|TH|VN|AU|NZ|AO|BW|EG|ER|ET|KE|LS|MW|MZ|NA|SO|ZA|SD|TZ|ZM|ZW" height="400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="565" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The red is our tally to date. Still lots to see!!</td></tr>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-55431030863759906902014-04-08T22:13:00.003-07:002014-04-09T11:11:48.176-07:00Bhutan<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;"><i>We've been on the go for some long and arduous days lately, leaving little time for blogging! Fortunately Pen has taken the time to email some family and friends and once again I'm copying and pasting it here. Here's her take on our week in Bhutan:</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">We flew from
Siem Reap in Cambodia to Bangkok to catch our flight to Bhutan. We were excited about
this opportunity, facilitated by Peter's cousin Cate who works with the Australian
Electoral Commission in Canberra. This agency assisted the Bhutan government through the process of organizing their first election. Through her work, Cate has visited
Bhutan over twenty times and has many contacts there. She was able to assist
us in the process of getting a visa at short notice and when applying from
outside your home country! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">We tried to
visit Bhutan in the Seventies but it was essentially a closed kingdom at that time. Due
to Cate’s contacts and reputation in Bhutan, we had a very personalized tour on our 6-day visa. Bhutan requires all tourists to be accompanied by a
local guide who provides cultural context and information. We like to visit
historical and cultural sites but really enjoy meeting the local people and
seeing how they live. Our guide was willing to adjust parts of our tour to
accommodate these interests. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">Bhutan is a
Buddhist country and many of their cultural sites and customs reflect their strong,
widely held religious beliefs. We visited Dzongs built centuries ago, which are
a combination of Buddhist monastery and seats of governance in Thimphu, the
capital city, Punakha and Paro. After a visit to the Punakha Dzong, we crossed
the river on a long suspension bridge and visited a small rural village. Our
guide was able to spontaneously facilitate various encounters with local
villagers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">One man,
whose wife had left to help their daughter who had recently given birth, invited
us into his typical Bhutanese country home, played us a few tunes on his
traditional stringed instrument and sang us a song about missing his wife and
the joy of his new granddaughter. We were invited to tea at another residence
and while there a young woman from the village, who is studying tourism in
Thimphu, rushed in to ask us to complete a survey about our stay in Bhutan – an
assignment for one of her courses. Word had spread of our presence in the
village and we were warmly welcomed! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">The next day
in Punakha we were supposed to be going for a hike but heard that there was a
Tsechu at a Monastery/Dzong about 30 minutes drive on the top of a high hill.
We were very excited to have this opportunity to witness the dances, songs and
ritual that go along with these festivals. The following day very early in the
morning we hiked up to Taktsang Monastery (at 9,700’ altitude), the most
revered monastery in Bhutan. It clings to an impossibly craggy cliff face. Josh
was the first visitor to arrive that morning, with the result that we had a
very private visit. We were guided by local monks through 5 very special and
different chambers, with the opportunity to meditate in extremely sacred
surroundings. We departed just as the sun was catching the roof of the monastery
and the first wave of international visitors arrived. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The high point of our Bhutan adventure - Taktsang Monastery at 10,000'. We were the first visitors for the day.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">That evening
we had dinner at a farm house built 350 years ago that still contains some of
the original furniture and implements used at that time. The dinner came
complete with rice wine, arras and genuine Bhutanese food. Laura, who </span><i style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;">loves</i><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;"> taking photographs, was rapt! Of
course our visit was much too short but we all agreed it was just an hors
d'oeuvres tour. We hope to return one day to explore more of the country.
Canada has many NGO’s there so volunteers are always welcome. There is a
hospital in Thimpu that always needs nurses and of course there are outpost
clinics in villages all over the country if any of you are looking for an
adventure!</span></div>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-83675858209911833592014-04-02T06:44:00.001-07:002014-04-02T07:45:33.840-07:00Update from Penny<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white;">
<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We've covered a lot of miles in the past week, with long days and nights of travel and exploration leaving little time for blogging. Today we took a rest day in our hotel close to the Bangkok International Airport, prior to our flight to Bhutan at 6.50 am tomorrow. Pen took some of the time to write a detailed email to family and friends, which makes an ideal blog catch-up post. So if you're reading this post and some of it seems like deja vu, now you know the reason! Here's Pen's perspective on the past week or so:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1a1a1a;">We were lucky to arrive in </span><span style="color: #1a1a1a;">Hoi An, an interesting old city on the east coast of Vietnam just south of Da Nang, </span><span style="color: #1a1a1a;">on the night of the monthly Lunar Festival. The festival was attended by thousands of people and featured paper lanterns that looked very pretty floating on the placid waters of the river. This practice obviously has special significance, but due to my limited Vietnamese the explanation eluded me, so I decide that if two people floated their lanterns down the river it signified their undying devotion to each other!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Peter and I spent a few days staying in rustic bamboo huts very near the ocean in An Bang. This made Peter happy as he hoped to re-create an experience we had on the East Coast of Malaysia when we were travelling in the 70's. There's a lovely beach and we were lucky to be at the quiet end of it. We swam and ate and watched the local fishermen bring in their catch in their round woven bamboo boats that reminded me of the ones that “The owl and the pussycat went to sea in”! It was fascinating, and a tad alarming, watching them navigate through the surf standing up in the boat with one oar used as a scull. Initially they pulled the boat forward by using the oar to catch the first wave and then spun themselves around through 180 degrees, placing themselves on the seaward side of the round craft, facing the shore and using the oar to steer themselves in. We watched several come home in the dark, no lifejackets, no whistles, no margin for error! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">After our coastal respite we were ready to tackle Saigon, aka Ho Chi Minh City. The bustling capital wasn't nearly as bad as we had been led to expect. We enjoyed some great weather, delicious food including great French bread and pastries, music and site seeing. Somehow we managed to avoid the Motor Scooter Bag theft, the card game scam, pickpockets and tainted alcohol! Peter and I spent an afternoon seriously looking at beautiful handcrafted ukuleles on the music street in Saigon.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In Saigon we arranged bus and boat transportation for travel up the Mekong River to the Cambodian Border. The Mekong River trip was amazing and the experience of life on the river exceeded our expectations. We spent several days meandering up channels on small boats, visiting artisan villages where they make value-added coconut products which vary from cooking and serving utensils, to coconut wine, oil and delicious coconut candy. We also toured a tropical fruit orchard where they made dried fruit products and rice wine. We visited several floating villages where we met the locals and shared meals, music and everyday life. We stopped at fishing villages in the middle of the river and on the shore and even a village of Indonesian Muslims who moved to the Mekong many years ago as refugees.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-size: 13px;">We saw much evidence of the annual flooding and the various adaptations that the locals make to cope with this ongoing situation. They are a resilient people. The Mekong was by far our favourite region of Vietnam. It is a vibrant, fascinating area that offers history, adventure and opportunities to interact with the local people.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our final day in Vietnam was spent travelling by boat to the Cambodian border. We enjoyed being spectators to the working river traffic and life along the riverbank. Crossing the border was easy and the Cambodian border officials warmly welcomed us. The trip from the border to Phnom Penh in a small van was uneventful on highways that were in good condition with the only delays being areas of construction.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earthen Wear Pot Sellers - Phnom Penh</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Phnom Penh is a busy city that sits beside the Tonle Sap River, which flows south from Tonle Sap Lake near Siem Reap. The dramatic floods that occur annually on Tonle Sap Lake are considered one of SE Asia’s natural wonders. The Riverside promenade makes Phnom Penh a pleasant place to wander and gives relief from the tuk tuks! We visited the impressive National Museum and had our first glimpse of treasures from Angkor Wat that had been relocated to the national museum to prevent damage. There was very interesting information on some of the architectural features relating to temple construction that were useful once we actually visited Angkor Wat. We also visited The Royal Palace and the Silver Pagoda. Josh and Laura found some amazing restaurants that are mentoring street kids that served some of the best food we have had in SE Asia.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">After 2 days, we took a 9-hour bus ride to Siem Reap, the vibrant city at the heart of the 400 square kilometer region encompassing Angkor Wat and hundreds of other temples. We spent an incredible four days exploring there. When we were in SE Asia in the 70's it was impossible to visit because the Viet Cong were occupying the site and using it for their barracks so I despaired of ever seeing it. Somehow that made it even more special to actually be there. It is impossible to adequately describe the immensity of the site. It is the biggest religious site in the world. Most of the temples were built between 900 and 1200 AD and the stone wall enclosure of each included wooden structures for the approximately one million inhabitants who lived and worked in the temple grounds. Today all that is left are the massive stone structures and the remains of their moats. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise at Angkor Wat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We weren't the only ones to show up for the sunrise!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Our anthropologist son who has a special interest in archeology was rapt. It was wonderful seeing it through his eyes and with his perspective. Our daughter-in-law Laura is a passionate and gifted photographer and she was busy trying to capture the essence of the site. We all loved Cambodia and agreed that we wished that we could stay there longer. The Cambodian people are lovely. They are such a gentle people and their faces light up when they smile. I find them so engaging! They experienced unspeakable, horrendous suffering under the Pol Pot regime but somehow seem to be getting on with their lives. The work that they are doing to protect and restore these monuments is impressive. They have some international partners but after completing training programs the Cambodian archeologists and support staff are leading the projects.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a;">Now we are in Bangkok before catching our flight to Bhutan tomorrow. We are very excited about this opportunity facilitated by Peter's cousin, who has been working with the Bhutan government assisting them in their transition to democracy. Cate works with the Australian Electoral Commission in Canberra that has been assisting Bhutan through the process of election organization. Through her work she has been to Bhutan twenty-three times and has many contacts there. She was able to assist us in the process of getting a visa when you are applying outside of your home country and are short on time. This is also a place that we tried to visit in the Seventies but it was essentially a closed kingdom then. We will only be there for 5 days but are grateful to be going there at all. We fly home April 10. </span></div>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-54746995218577658302014-03-24T19:35:00.001-07:002014-03-27T09:31:57.933-07:00Up the Mekong to Cambodia<div>
HPenny, Josh, Laura and I are currently approaching the Vietnam - Cambodia border aboard a 10 passenger narrow-boat on various side-streams and canals that criss-cross the vast Mekong delta. We're with 4 other backpackers with whom we've enjoyed some great 'traveller's grape-vine' conversations like those that Pen and I relied on back in the 70's. As usual, when we join groups for multi-day trips such as this 3-day expedition from Saigon to Phnom Penh, most of our fellow travellers are about a half to a third our age. Pen and I enjoy mostly sitting on the sidelines listening to all the exchanges, but occasionally we'll throw in one of our chestnuts from days of yore, which our young friends seem to enjoy.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We've had marvelous cell phone coverage with an unlimited data plan for our Vietnam visit but we expect to lose that coverage shortly and will then be dependent on wifi. I'm posting this from my iPhone Blogger app before we travel out of cell range.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The blog has fallen behind a bit so I'll have to describe our Ho Chi Min City (Saigon) experiences in a future post. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our travels on the Mekong have lived up to expectations, with many exotic sights, smells and sounds. Now we're looking forward to meeting the friendly Cambodian People we've heard so much about. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today began with breakfast at 6.00 am followed by a brief bus ride to a dock at the edge of the river. There we were met by a flotilla of two-passenger skiffs propelled by twin crossed-oars from behind.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"> Skiffing up the Mekong</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the water by 7.00 am for a fish farm tour</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We visited a carp and cat fish farm run by a community of Cambodian refugees, then a community of Indonesian Muslim refugees living in a village built on stilts to avoid the annual 1.5 to 2 meters of flooding in the delta.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Our 3 hour ferry ride was followed by a 2 hour mini-bus ride from the border town on the Mekong to Phnom Penh. The van took us through rural Cambodian villages skirted on one side by the river and on the other side by the road. Through many of the villages, half the road was taken over by rice and corn sun-drying on large tarps. Drivers of all manner of vehicles take pains to avoid driving on the precious crops.</span></div>
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We noticed a dramatic difference in the number of people populating these villages compared to similar travel through Vietnam over the past month. However that changed once we hit the outskirts of Phnom Penh and by the time we boarded a Tuk-Tuk in search of a hotel, we spent 30 minutes in frenetic peak hour traffic in the old-town.<br />
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Kids throughout the region love to practice their few words of English, calling "Hello", "Hi" and "What's your name?" from their homes by the river and road and from the back and front of motor scooters zooming by.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joyful kids skylarking in the river yelled greetings to us as we passed, then tried their best to splash us and our furiously clicking cameras.</td></tr>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-4410423608076439072014-03-19T00:33:00.001-07:002014-03-19T05:49:38.046-07:00Bus MarathonOur 18 hour bus marathon just ended in the Hill Station of Da Lat, established by the French as an escape from the sweltering heat of the Vietnamese summer.<div><br></div><div>The first leg of the journey from Hoi An just south of Da Nang to Cam Rahn took 13 hours. Most roads in Vietnam are in pretty rough shape, resulting in an often rough ride . This one passed through a range of different countryside from flat farm land to coastal mountains. Traffic was fairly heavy for much of the night and as is customary here, vehicles beep a warning to each other constantly, so our restless sleep was accompanied by the blast of our air horn and the beep and honk of every scooter, truck and bus on the road. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2R9qoWDASSrgQqajuVJYkNdqgLpK36iJrvN9WVFB7ZLs7uH23jo_7_AcBUM-g-2xIck0WoXqMuIF-8y0QhJSHcY5-VhYWlwttpjICvMxtP4D8HRJfdlZEMRZpFhy3Dk0Emoz-w25dSuF/s640/blogger-image--1672954987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2R9qoWDASSrgQqajuVJYkNdqgLpK36iJrvN9WVFB7ZLs7uH23jo_7_AcBUM-g-2xIck0WoXqMuIF-8y0QhJSHcY5-VhYWlwttpjICvMxtP4D8HRJfdlZEMRZpFhy3Dk0Emoz-w25dSuF/s640/blogger-image--1672954987.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Fortunately when we arrived in </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Cam Rahn at dawn an</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> excellent cafe across the road from our bus stop had just enough time to prepare a delicious breakfast for us before we dashed off to board the next bus to Da Lat. Like the night bus from Hoi An, this bus was also equipped with two tiers of recliner bunks three abreast, so we ended up spending a total of 18 hours sprawled in bus bunks, with the one hour breakfast stop to break the journey. To be honest I preferred it to the Trans Pacific flight in an airline seat!</span></div><div><br></div><div>From Cam Rahn we headed across lush green countryside for about an hour before winding up into the mountains for another 5 hours. The countryside alternated between tangles of jungle creepers and dry pine forest. Rough clap-board shacks, sheds and shops clustered beside the road at various spots at higher elevation, before giving way to acres and acres of plastic-sheet covered green houses. Absolutely <i>acres</i> of them!! We'd heard that this was an important flower growing region but we were all astonished by large tracts of the landscape taken over by green houses.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fv1XRiMbHgiYpYyhc1DiuYb4eXXhL5Lb4JLvzsKjb5oLtMwUNhWT_oWoq9UEPgBJxEYuVgdvANdyEcnbNI6OYPp1ns5z8jU7wHgz9ca-tU1LEoBVNsZqsiG6NN4kIZFAsODscc1N10CH/s640/blogger-image-1352375367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fv1XRiMbHgiYpYyhc1DiuYb4eXXhL5Lb4JLvzsKjb5oLtMwUNhWT_oWoq9UEPgBJxEYuVgdvANdyEcnbNI6OYPp1ns5z8jU7wHgz9ca-tU1LEoBVNsZqsiG6NN4kIZFAsODscc1N10CH/s640/blogger-image-1352375367.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>(Note that the times shown on the Google Maps accompanying this post are estimates for cars. Our bus crawled up the mountain road in low low gear for most of the journey). </div><div><br></div><div>Our first afternoon in this historic 'hill station' has given us a welcome respite from the constant badgering we have been subjected to along the coast. There, travellers are considered fair game by droves of peddlers selling everything from greeting cards to snack foods, boat cruises to scooter rides, and hotel rooms to trinkets. Here in Da Lat we have been left entirely to our own devices. The people go about their business without chasing us down the street to sell us stuff. It's a welcome relief!</div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-6291168974234592642014-03-18T04:44:00.001-07:002014-03-18T17:22:38.071-07:0014 Hour Overnight BusOh ... and smoking is allowed...!!<div><br></div><div>At 9.00 am this morning we had multiple options to get to our next destination - plane, day train sleeper, day train soft seats, day train hard seats, night train sleeper and night bus. One by one our options disappeared as the few remaining seats were snapped up. So it was that we ended up on our least favoured option, the night bus - a ride of 14 hours in a reclining seat bult for people of no more than 5'6". Fortunately my seat has no one in front of it so by looping my legs over the reclined seat I've extended my leg room to 11'!! </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I'll let you know how it goes! </span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hHag8kgJLb1XdVzMFsgTmM4K2G8-oxqgRRVDBlgJAWaajACFe0ENbgjmD-Lf3fD69MlvqMrFLjlAWSQtrzmPZfv6JYpi8dEm1KO-Vcc2zvGDaMYA4STxS6pWSoooRtGYY-6NJqmyBVPX/s640/blogger-image-1790327494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hHag8kgJLb1XdVzMFsgTmM4K2G8-oxqgRRVDBlgJAWaajACFe0ENbgjmD-Lf3fD69MlvqMrFLjlAWSQtrzmPZfv6JYpi8dEm1KO-Vcc2zvGDaMYA4STxS6pWSoooRtGYY-6NJqmyBVPX/s640/blogger-image-1790327494.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Did I mention what a bloody good sport my wife Penny is? Just turned 67. Inclined to suffer from motion sickness. Hates cigarette smoke ... and look at her!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BGvPTtOyFa-0MzkS2CDugketQwgaupKErb1lDJ63Rwe8BE3p9RXlUEe33u802rKv9rn36b34PrZ2zayGwC1xkc_NmN0mYIuBJPh78D-ZD5XUdICqiPx4ucUZumqoTT16aoNk0DAqU7Fe/s640/blogger-image--1826750911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8BGvPTtOyFa-0MzkS2CDugketQwgaupKErb1lDJ63Rwe8BE3p9RXlUEe33u802rKv9rn36b34PrZ2zayGwC1xkc_NmN0mYIuBJPh78D-ZD5XUdICqiPx4ucUZumqoTT16aoNk0DAqU7Fe/s640/blogger-image--1826750911.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">PS: If you hear I'm in a Vietnamese gaol it will be because I throttled the smokers during the night!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNWxua7E7yeEVRBGBP4jSUQT-vUFw-nZh_SL7fr7KoCcspqTG4rKoU-JwkiSgKhQVti6eCi2B_ugb_n8TjrwuuVtz2uaMDk-z2vWqgl-l3Cwj-12waghMav-UXhUTBc1Vd4CMbL7sKIao/s640/blogger-image--120665356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNWxua7E7yeEVRBGBP4jSUQT-vUFw-nZh_SL7fr7KoCcspqTG4rKoU-JwkiSgKhQVti6eCi2B_ugb_n8TjrwuuVtz2uaMDk-z2vWqgl-l3Cwj-12waghMav-UXhUTBc1Vd4CMbL7sKIao/s640/blogger-image--120665356.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">PPS: The smokers included the driver and his mate. Throttling them seemed counter productive!</div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-52668096793820283452014-03-17T17:51:00.000-07:002014-03-19T05:32:06.309-07:00Pen's Birthday<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Travelling far from home and most of her family, Pen certainly didn't expect to be showered with love and good things the way she was for her 67th birthday in Vietnam! To begin with, Josh and Laura were determined to ensure that the hotel they chose would offer the refinements she likes. They spent hours online during our 14 hour train trip south, researching the best possible options in the upper end of our accomodation budget. Their wish list included the following: view of the Perfume River, bath tub, fridge, electric kettle for making our own plunger coffee, hair drier (!), queen bed; good breakfast. They narrowed the field to 2 choices and after consultation opted for the Vina Hotel. It couldn't have been a better choice!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Having told the receptionist we were coming to spend a few days for their mother's birthday, the staff pulled out all the stops to ensure they provided the best possible experience. Josh and Laura ordered a spectacular and delicious cake which arrived in time for breakfast on the birthday morning. The staff also proudly presented Pen with a lovely flower arrangement and our beautiful hostess, always attired in traditional formal dress, posed with Pen, the flowers and the cake.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Josh and Laura had carefully shopped for a birthday card in Malaysia, uncertain if they would be able to find the right card in Vietnam. In Hanoi they discovered that in fact their choice of beautiful paper-art card was made in Vietnam. I'd brought a card from Salt Spring Island - one of Pen's favourites. We topped off the delicious hotel buffet breakfast with a slice of birthday cake and offered some to the lovely hotel staff who hovered around delighting in their connection to this most important Vietnamese celebration - "Mother's Birthday"!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As everyone who know's Pen can attest, she always goes the extra mile to ensure that special occasions are celebrated appropriately. Her two sons have inherited that gene and apply similar attention to detail when celebrating special occasions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">We then set about filling the day with sight seeing in this historic city. Rather than join a large river cruise boat, we opted to charter our own boat for a couple of hours to cruise the Perfume River and visit a could of historic pagodas.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG37Z0prkEa9gqu6KQ9GAaHN_6J0G3-IRYLPWbNmr211umfG6Yrwv-Tw0TqKG-GnBsDvhPZVFrU9hcC8XElLPB09ZBGUrH8v54Z4JXB6sgu-vkHkU_Y3KNDtMetOC8HY8cB3gK8aQbFuVg/s1600/67!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG37Z0prkEa9gqu6KQ9GAaHN_6J0G3-IRYLPWbNmr211umfG6Yrwv-Tw0TqKG-GnBsDvhPZVFrU9hcC8XElLPB09ZBGUrH8v54Z4JXB6sgu-vkHkU_Y3KNDtMetOC8HY8cB3gK8aQbFuVg/s1600/67!.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Laura seems to be the designated hitter when it comes to bargaining our way through Vietnam, whether it's a hotel room, bus fare or charter boat. So it was that Pen, Josh and I plunked down on a park bench by the perfume River while Laura brushed past numerous 'fixers' and set off in search of the best deal. In a few minutes she rejoined us, having negotiated a boat for 2 hours that would transport us up the river to one pagoda, wait for us to take a tour, then transport us down the river to another pagoda before delivering us back to our starting point. Whether by accident or design, our boat number was 67, which happened to coincide with the birthday we were celebrating! There was a bit of a hiccup in the middle of the cruise, with some debate about the previously agreed-to conditions, but Laura had been forewarned about this and stood her ground, ultimately settling on the original deal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When we first passed through South East Asia in the early 70's, the 'travellers telegraph' used to inform us of what to expect on the road ahead. Back then, we'd sit around with our fellow travellers over meals, tea and beer breaks, scribbling in our notebooks about the best and worst deals here and there. Sometimes the advice would be about a good hotel in the next town, while at other times it might be about a job opportunity on the other side of the world. These days social media and web-based travel advisories have largely taken the place of such word-of-mouth advice. All the favourite scams, deals, rip-offs and 'secrets' are available via the web, not to mention that for C$15 we have a month of unlimited data on our Vietnamese cell phone plans - so we're connected pretty much 24-7 whether we have wifi or not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Pen: After orchestrating a wonderful birthday from dawn to dusk, Josh and Laura handed the torch to Aidan and Heather, who had done their own online research from Vancouver. Using the indispensable Trip Advisor they discovered</span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Les Jardins de la Carambole, the</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> best rated restaurant in Hué, owned and operated by a French chef supported by his delightful Vietnamese wife and staff. The restaurant</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #1a1a1a;"> is housed in an old French Colonial residence and
the food is French/Vietnamese fusion. Josh and Laura, who have been in SE Asia
since late November, especially enjoyed the starter plate of assorted French cheese
served with warm baguette. Peter ordered a multi course meal while Josh and I started
with delicious soup and both chose the highly recommended Grilled Duck with lemon grass
and chili, which more than lived up to its reputation. Laura enjoyed a pasta
dish with seafood. All the food was really delicious and beautifully presented!
Then the lights in the restaurant dimmed and the entire staff joined our table with
Chocolate cake, candles and a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. It was truly
a night to remember. </span></span><!--EndFragment-->
</div>
Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-73676578316524206982014-03-17T00:38:00.001-07:002014-03-17T00:55:10.279-07:00Rustic beach hideaway!<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">A few hundred meters </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">down the beach from our palm frond home stay is a beach-front restaurant/bar called Soul Kitchen, recommended to us by the same American teacher who told us about Under The Coconut Tree. Last night we enjoyed a couple of hours of fabulous blues here and today we came back for lunch. The only worry I have right now is for all the poor working folk slaving away to cover our pensions! God bless ya! :-)</span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhoUGhIStGLIqdXqbYq6o4pAle83bTfKcwv5ch9Atytv8xqiGREa634MSx4PB9jRiD7Z3bW70QzwfW1ksyhCq-_z9GzqpszmUmH9GqMIDvm3hRm5YpedDfMSjakS-2xv7bH5ysgmzSfQi/s640/blogger-image-1284459779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhoUGhIStGLIqdXqbYq6o4pAle83bTfKcwv5ch9Atytv8xqiGREa634MSx4PB9jRiD7Z3bW70QzwfW1ksyhCq-_z9GzqpszmUmH9GqMIDvm3hRm5YpedDfMSjakS-2xv7bH5ysgmzSfQi/s640/blogger-image-1284459779.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-47620703788613510922014-03-16T08:58:00.001-07:002014-03-17T16:36:29.641-07:00Quick Update (16 March) & SaPa to Huế Train Trip<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Eureka! </span></div>
For the next couple of nights we're staying <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">a few miles south of Da Nang</span> at a little lodge called 'Under The Coconut Tree'. Our accommodation is a delightful cottage constructed of bamboo and thatched palm. A place such as this was at the top of my bucket list for Vietnam. It's a home stay run by lovely people off the beaten path among private residences.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The blue dot marks our location</span></span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under the Coconut Tree Homestay</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 20pt;">Sa Pa - Lao Cai - Hanoi</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">We left SaPa in the North West border region of Vietnam in a Mercedes
mini-bus stuffed with fellow backpackers. I heavy mist had hung in the town all
day and by our 5.30 pm departure time it seemed to be thickening. All the seat
belts had been removed from the van so there was not even the option of the
false sense of security from a webbing strap over our lap. There were a few
murmurs among our fellow travellers concerning the horrible driving conditions on
the steep mountain road but we all just hunkered down and hoped for the best.
It was a relief to finally emerge from the heavy fog 40 minutes into the
one-hour rush to the Lao Cai Railway Station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aboriginal Sans"; font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Hanoi - Huế<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Again we joined a large throng boarding the ancient train and found
our rather dilapidated sleeping cabin for the overnight trip to Hanoi. The narrow
3’ gauge track makes for a rock-and-roll ride and we dozed our way through the
night, arriving in Hanoi at 6.00 am, just as the station was opening for the
day. At the ticket window Laura tried to enquire about train and ticket options
and was told “I just sell tickets. If you want information you have to go to
the information window.” There was no time for that so Laura put her foot down
and managed to learn that there was a train heading south in 10 minutes. The
only remaining seats were in 3rd class - hard wooden slat seats with no air
conditioning. We dashed to the train with our backpack waist straps flying,
boarding with minutes to spare. The trip to the ancient capital </span><span style="font-family: "Aboriginal Sans"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Huế </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">would take us 14
hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">A Vietnamese family had scooped our designated seats but we decided
that the language barrier made it easier to find other vacant seats rather than
haggle over our own. This was a mistake that we would come to regret several
times during the trip, for the various people who had been allocated the seats
that we usurped had no qualms about calling the conductor to sort out the
mix-up. In the end, Penny and I managed to stay put but Josh and Laura got
shunted around a couple of times before finally landing in their designated
seats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Our first seat-mates were a young couple. At first he slept with his
head on her lap. After a while she got a little bored and producing a small
mirror, proceeded to deal with a few black heads around her nose. When stewards
moved through the carriage offering fast food, girlfriend ordered something but
the delivery arrived while she was away at the toilet and boyfriend was
oblivious to the order. When girlfriend got back to her seat and discovered
that boyfriend had allowed the stewards to take away her order she began
berating him at the top of her lungs in an exceptionally shrill voice, then
stormed off to chase down their food. Boyfriend just shrugged, obviously having
seen and heard it all before. The ferocity of her tirade quickly calmed to “you
silly old duffer” type language before they settled down to their shared meal,
with her spoon-feeding him baby-style. Afterwards boyfriend again lay his head
on her lap while girlfriend proceeded to meticulously clean his teeth with a
tooth pick. Boyfriend endured this with his eyes closed, humming a tune.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Later in our shared journey, girlfriend produced a bag of fresh
baguettes and small containers of sweetened condensed milk. After tucking in
for a few minutes she offered some to Penny and me. In our rush to change
trains in Hanoi we hadn’t had time to stock up with provisions so we accepted
the offer. As with all bread in Vietnam (thanks to the French colonial period)
this was fresh and delicious. The sweetened condensed milk dunk was an acquired
taste, which I preferred to plain bread. Pen passed on the dunking treat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">About 3 hours down the track we pulled into a crowded station where
we bid farewell to our new best friends and immediately knew that conditions in
our 3rd class carriage were about to change radically. People swarmed aboard
loaded with kids, baskets, bundles and bottles. The family of 5 across the
aisle from us were obviously seasoned travellers. As soon as they boarded they
settled in for the long day ahead. Two people lay on the short and narrow seats
designed to accommodate 4 passengers. Mats were laid our on the floor and two
women and a young boy stretched out under the seats where they promptly curled
up and went to sleep for several hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surely my feet don't smell that bad!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Our new seat mates were a young mum, dad and 3 or 4 year old boy - </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">a bit of a tyrant who constantly pushed the
limits with his young mom. The dad left her to deal with him and wandered off
to find a different spot. Once in a while mom would get fed up with the bad behavior, speak sharply to the tyrant,
then pull out her cell phone and threaten to call the dad to
come deal with the problem. Usually the threat was enough to calm him down. Behind
us sat a </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">better behaved</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> 4 year old who periodically ran his toy motorcycle through our hair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">At our feet was a 4 gallon plastic tank of hooch with a piece of
plastic tied over the hole in place of the cap. At one point the rock and roll
of the train tipped it over and the make-do seal allowed some of the clear
liquid to leak on the floor before we discovered the problem. It must have been
pretty good hooch, because the spill evaporated in no time once I stood the
bottle up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Around 11.00 am I went exploring and found that the next carriage
was a virtually empty diner. Several staff welcomed me warmly and bid me sit
down and have a meal. The rest of the family was feeling a little off from a
tummy upset the day before, but I was just recovering from several days of bad
cold and low appetite so I sat down and asked what was available. The stewards
spoke zero English so I raised both hands in the international “what have you
got” sign. One steward whipped a freshly delivered plate away from another
customer and flourished it in front of me. It contained 2 fried eggs, a fresh
baguette, tomato and cucumber. “Perfect!” said I. Piping hot Liptons Tea sweetened
with lashings of condensed milk was the perfect drink. We’d already learned
that “Vietnamese Coffee” wasn’t quite to our taste. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Looking out across an ever-changing landscape of rice paddies,
kitchen and market gardens interspersed with river and bushland scenes, I was
transported back 40 years to our original train travel in Asia and realized
that not much has changed. The rolling stock is original and the scenery quite
timeless. Fields scattered with workers in conical hats, bent double as they
tend their crops, and buffalo still pressed to the plough. Perhaps the only
difference is that the sound, smell and soot of the old steam engines had given
way to diesel electric locomotives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ds2bga0bllaJ0ETmj631mjoiy8sf3iGahC6pQaV8VojgjUEWQHP8Kc5jI0D5o5Re9l9Ypu0Z5X4SQHTVwf4PZ8SF3U64beZX82RR6BXzGsIHBNze9r21vULmOInnJAjxlI99MGP229-t/s1600/train+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ds2bga0bllaJ0ETmj631mjoiy8sf3iGahC6pQaV8VojgjUEWQHP8Kc5jI0D5o5Re9l9Ypu0Z5X4SQHTVwf4PZ8SF3U64beZX82RR6BXzGsIHBNze9r21vULmOInnJAjxlI99MGP229-t/s1600/train+view.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spectacular view thru the dirty train window</td></tr>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-88876437451056800452014-03-10T21:33:00.001-07:002014-03-13T04:30:45.912-07:00Skate Boarding Capital of SE Asia!Who knew? The Vietnam Railway Authority is unwitingly sitting on a skate boarding Mecca! I discovered this by accident at 6.00 am, as I stumbled off the night train from Sa Pa in the mountains of NW Vietnam. Uncertain whether I was supposed to keep left or right down the station stair-case, I allowed my Canadian training to override my recent Tasmanian experience and stayed right. <div><br><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyMH0kKi5up7MGCyU1LMeZTo0NKE1uAoAhttH3E7RvzZtn77JaAVqwZpnhhQ5-P7Ic87SxKgz7vflW8x2rP6gpDeF_ku9IeJ7NAmK-8JkIIr2QfUmymVVTnmgXMga3K_ZRiu3J_3qgvOu/s640/blogger-image--2078838723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyMH0kKi5up7MGCyU1LMeZTo0NKE1uAoAhttH3E7RvzZtn77JaAVqwZpnhhQ5-P7Ic87SxKgz7vflW8x2rP6gpDeF_ku9IeJ7NAmK-8JkIIr2QfUmymVVTnmgXMga3K_ZRiu3J_3qgvOu/s640/blogger-image--2078838723.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Only when I reached the bottom did I realize I'd just passed up the ride of a lifetime! Look closely at the first picture and you'll see there's even a ramp half way down to get some air all the way to the bottom. The next staircase over was even better equipped. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5cVUIrdeupLrV2x5wbaLwnDo0cII8cfH_WfNuxN9SWpSuf7vnWRNQfFOC5o1cCH-GEhSSnUGkx0U-6JgPepDTNmIGOVnK0D7M9RTg1w-phO-QwubuiIsbxG-p9SjVxvWnQ8cqnHqmdvh/s640/blogger-image-2132254581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5cVUIrdeupLrV2x5wbaLwnDo0cII8cfH_WfNuxN9SWpSuf7vnWRNQfFOC5o1cCH-GEhSSnUGkx0U-6JgPepDTNmIGOVnK0D7M9RTg1w-phO-QwubuiIsbxG-p9SjVxvWnQ8cqnHqmdvh/s640/blogger-image-2132254581.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I can only presume the double flight of steps is designed to allow for skaters to re-ascend twice as quickly for their next ride. I was flabbergasted that in such prime time, with train traffic fairly light, I didn't see a single skate boarder. In Canada, the dudes with baggy pants and plumber's smiles would have been lining up for a taste of this boarder's heaven! I should <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">probably copyright</span> the name for a potential Eco Tourism opportunity - </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <b>Hanoi Heaven</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <i>Urban Skate Park to Die For</i></div></div></div></div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-13585096691986747522014-03-10T06:22:00.001-07:002014-03-11T18:18:38.608-07:00What happened to us?!<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">When we first hit the road in the early seventies, most of the backpacker generation dressed like this:</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRj7P8X9zK66uz4R8JJnAkVCBbIUxtYi2FL05ZxP7dVKWfEahBSZ63inSRSUYho_UwXbIX4Espr_3Q90QHgT1NEW7d2Mp-rNLruuc6aWv52Mxf8YHlVhaq0wCvl7V4t5O_6wBeGAWdF_pW/s640/blogger-image--600500148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRj7P8X9zK66uz4R8JJnAkVCBbIUxtYi2FL05ZxP7dVKWfEahBSZ63inSRSUYho_UwXbIX4Espr_3Q90QHgT1NEW7d2Mp-rNLruuc6aWv52Mxf8YHlVhaq0wCvl7V4t5O_6wBeGAWdF_pW/s640/blogger-image--600500148.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>In fact Pen's first labour of love was to sew matching psychedelic darts into our jeans. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Now my shirts and pants, and those </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">of most of the other old hippies out here look like this: </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LygeDOic4yt6pa3gsbWxwhyphenhyphenyEQVpKd10wJiQi97OQ-J6c4sk6XZSYwlpS0-6U4NQ-JD4ebRSHbMHC9BCOT7QEwXJwlOnMueOJg6_q742Tm8s7nrUO8bBo48a2oF9E0nvNOtoih20ucgz/s640/blogger-image-161187369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LygeDOic4yt6pa3gsbWxwhyphenhyphenyEQVpKd10wJiQi97OQ-J6c4sk6XZSYwlpS0-6U4NQ-JD4ebRSHbMHC9BCOT7QEwXJwlOnMueOJg6_q742Tm8s7nrUO8bBo48a2oF9E0nvNOtoih20ucgz/s640/blogger-image-161187369.jpg"></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Lo5Nj2HmhunsN629kr7aBTqEOfbEf1032EoWAQLho_tXGGSUosKY9mjJJC-TsSXmSUSGbcolLGwD7pOVTff4GuIt49VaOuotc-W2heqoZTJNSHy0U5er57jpUqFWel_74UyGWXcd73hp/s640/blogger-image--1410681977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Lo5Nj2HmhunsN629kr7aBTqEOfbEf1032EoWAQLho_tXGGSUosKY9mjJJC-TsSXmSUSGbcolLGwD7pOVTff4GuIt49VaOuotc-W2heqoZTJNSHy0U5er57jpUqFWel_74UyGWXcd73hp/s640/blogger-image--1410681977.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm thinking it might be time to break free of the pack and do a spot of tie dyeing.</div>Just not sure how these new fangled "breathable" "wicking" "insect repelling" "quick drying" "secret pocketed" "sun blocking" synthetic outfits will react. </div><div><br></div><div>I'll keep you posted!</div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-15254956119354338782014-03-10T00:42:00.001-07:002014-03-10T00:42:11.752-07:00Trial of the iPhone Blogger AppI'm sitting in our hotel restaurant after a solo lunch. Pen, Josh and Laura are resting in their room upstairs in preparation for another long overnight train ride back to Hanoi. I decided to try out the iPhone Blogger app. <div><br></div><div>This morning while wandering the misty streets and market I was approached by two Hmong women, Zee and Tuu, selling their hand-made bags. We did the customary bartering and I bought one from each. As we walked and talked I learned that one lives 4 k from the town and the other 8k. They make the trek every day twice a day to sell their hand crafts. They are both over 50 years old, Tuu the mother of 2 boys and a girl and Zee the mother of 2 boys. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r7IKkwJfJ5wWib2VcoBg0zmgy_PguRGzGEYVjyOV0Q-XgiTfV9lrS2ZDSylUobyPBbl8rd_eH0mdZ5pLW95vjxlahCugf-TfNizJm8ziqKixq57sqc6PZzOSkeLGWfJ5GpqWXE9pz66o/s640/blogger-image-2083447998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r7IKkwJfJ5wWib2VcoBg0zmgy_PguRGzGEYVjyOV0Q-XgiTfV9lrS2ZDSylUobyPBbl8rd_eH0mdZ5pLW95vjxlahCugf-TfNizJm8ziqKixq57sqc6PZzOSkeLGWfJ5GpqWXE9pz66o/s640/blogger-image-2083447998.jpg"></a></div> Zee (left) and Tuu, Hmong from Sa Pa</div>Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-9121177876283953132014-03-08T23:55:00.000-08:002014-03-09T17:41:13.057-07:00Taking a Sicky<div style="text-align: justify;">
There's a cold bug going around Vietnam which Pen and I both caught while cruising the misty waters of Ha Long Bay. I caught the 'man-cold' version, which came with a fever and much coughing and snorting - enough for me to decide to take a rest day in our comfy hotel in Sapa and try to shake it off. Fortunately Pen only caught the woman-cold version, which comes with much lighter symptoms, so she's off for the day with Josh and Laura exploring some exotic Hmong villages a few hours away. (Don't worry - although we're deep in the heart of bird flu country, I'm sure this is just a man cold!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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The upside of my sicky is that I finally got a chance to look under the hood of this baby. I discovered setting and customization tools that I was completely unaware of. <i>Top among these is the comments setting. I had the blog so locked up that it was virtually comment-proof! I'm hoping my reset will allow anyone who'd like to touch bases to post a comment.</i> At least I know what to do if we start getting a bunch of hate mail! Also discovered that I could remove that quaint little border of blue sky and clouds. Haven't seem much blue sky since we arrived in Vietnam so it didn't seem relevant.</div>
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<b>About Sa Pa and the Region</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main Street, Sa Pa</td></tr>
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sa_Pa" target="_blank">SaPa in North West Vietnam</a> draws thousands of visitors who come to see the spectacular scenery and hill tribes of the region. It's a fairly arduous trip from Hanoi. Trains depart in the late evening with most backpackers opting to sit up. For a few extra dollars we had a four-person cabin with sleeping bunks. Our train pulled into Lao Cai at 6.30 am and was met by swarms of shuttle bus drivers and 'fixers' offering transportation, accommodation and anything else a weary traveller might require. Josh and Laura make excellent use of <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/">TripAdvisor</a> for our travel and accommodation needs and once on the train Laura made a quick Skype call to the highly recommended Elysian Sapa Hotel, which offers rates of C$25 for "superior" rooms with breakfast and the one hour shuttle bus included. Our shuttle driver was waiting at the station with Josh's name professionally printed on an 8x11 sign.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sa Pa Surroundings</td></tr>
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During the one hour drive from the railway station into the mountains we began to see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hmong_people">Hmong</a> and other hill tribe people wearing traditional clothing and regalia. Women with wicker baskets on their backs and a large hoe over their shoulder were already heading out to their terraced fields carved from the steep-sided mountains. As we drew nearer to Sa Pa, most of these women were dressed in their finery and heading uphill to join dozens of their compatriots selling handicrafts to the tourists in the town and on the surrounding treks.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room at the Elysian Sapa Hotel</td></tr>
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Our third flour room boasts a large window opening onto the main street in the heart of the old town, varnished pine wainscoting and furniture, a spotless marble bathroom, wood grain flooring and very posh drapes. In my experience the same room in North America would go for between C$150 and $250 depending on the city. On the main floor there's a nicely appointed restaurant serving a mixture of local and international dishes. The nicest thing about the hotel is the delightful family who own and run it. They are exceptionally warm, caring and hospitable. It's a mom and pop operation managed by a very dapper son, Tony, who has a good command of English and knows exactly how to cater to the tastes of swarms of travellers young and old. I'll be surprised if we find such a nice room at such an economical price anywhere else on our travels in South East Asia.</div>
Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160931519666954740.post-89336065914824816862014-03-07T20:53:00.000-08:002014-03-12T19:47:54.750-07:00Travelling Light<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Recently a friend asked how we travel for 6 weeks with backpacks
weighing just 10 kilos. I decided to use my response as a blog post. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After backpacking throughout South America for 15 months with large conventional backpacks, Josh and Laura knew exactly what to look for in the choice of gear for their Asian expedition. They were determined to travel with less bulk and weight. Josh discovered the Mountain Equipment Co-op </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">SUPERCONTINENT 45 L</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> met all his specs: ideal capacity; expandable if needed (we don't); padded shoulder and waist straps can be tucked away behind a zipped flap when travelling by plane, train etc; well constructed padded handles on the top and side for ease of handling; and unzipped the backpack opens completely down the centre line, thus avoiding digging to the bottom of a pile to try to find the thing you need! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">Our retirement gift from our friends the Cochran’s was two sets of Eagle Creek Pack-It System™. I sure could have used this marvellous system over the past decade of business travel! The set consists of 4 bags of different sizes and configuration to keep all your stuff orderly and easy to find. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">The picture illustrates my packing system.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">On the left is the
Eagle Creek pack containing shirts, pants and ubiquitous FV vest. On the right
lying beside the backpack is the bag containing socks, underwear and swimming
trunks. (The see-thru mesh panel lets you see the contents). In the right side of the backpack, clockwise from top left, I use the
Eagle Creek shoe bag for stuff like batteries, medication,
extension cord (for multiple device charging) spare glasses and even my Logitech
Boom Box mini speakers. In the top right is my wash kit. The blue bag contains
a small quick-dry towel. Bottom right is a little hi-tech Katmandu daypack that
stuffs into its own pocket and a silk sleeping bag liner in a fist-sized stuff sack. Next to that is a rain proof jacket that also
stuffs into its own pocket. Finally the last of the blue Eagle Creek packs
contains all my chargers and cables for the technical equipment required by a
retired geek!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Packing System</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The real secret to the overall light weight of the backpack is the limited wardrobe:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 2 pair lightweight quick dry pants, one with zip-off legs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 2 lightweight quick dry traveller's shirts with secret pockets, cooling venting etc<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 4 pair lightweight quick dry underwear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 1 T shirt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 1 pair swimming trunks<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 4 pair socks<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- 1 pair elasticized socks for long-haul flying<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's it! Of course with such a limited wardrobe you're obliged to wash clothes every few days. In warmer climes the laundry usually dries overnight. Making do with a limited amount of stuff is very freeing, and really pays off when hiking or hoisting your bag aboard all manner of planes, boats and vehicles – especially if limited space requires travelling with your backpack on your knees.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Because our S.E. Asia trip is mostly in the tropics, we left our fleece and toque behind to save on weight and bulk. Who knows - maybe we'll return from Bhutan the proud owners of new Bhutanese sweaters and toques!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">PS: If the </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Eagle Creek Pack-It System appeals to you, drop in on Dan Cochran at Adventure Clothing, 1015 Broad Street Victoria. Tell him I sent ya! :-)</span></span></i></div>
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Pete and Penhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00513054595234093441noreply@blogger.com0