Longwalkhome

Here is a sentence I never thought I would utter “I had a business trip in Yakima”.  Not that I have anything against Yakima, but I just never expected to need to head there.

This week I did in fact need to go and was lucky enough to get to spend some time with my grand-parents Joe and Doe.

Before dinner I checked out Joe’s amazing wooden model of an Ercoupe Airplane.  Each little part made by hand, without instructions, all from wood.  The steering wheels turn the flaps (or whatever those things are called), the landing gears have little wooden shock absorbs that move, it is an amazing model.

Generally speaking, my family is chocked full of creative folks, my grandpa does this (and used to rebuild the real thing), I have an uncles who either designing adverting or building a plane in garage, cousins who dance and draw.  This could be biggest indicator I was switched a birth.  Somewhere this is an engineer in a family full of really attractive people trying to figure how he fits in.

As part of the trip I went to Richland, Washington. Not much to say…except this little riddle. What is a SMORGY?

A post from 5 years ago.

Can’t recall the exact circumstances, but clearly I was having fun.

I did another series of bus jumps to get to Maruata. A hard to reach beach that is considered The “Mexican Beach”. Or so it said in book. On the way I met some crazy ass Gringo Expat Retiree Artist. These guys rock…basically this is their greeting “Hello, my names (Insert wierd name, in this case Teo) I am an artist, I retired unexpectedly. I have travelled and now live in San Miguel (this is almost always the same)…my theory is that (Religous or Political Character) is Evil…in ways you wouldn´t understand. I have read a lot of books (read as smoked my head off), and studied with a Peyote Shaman”. I usual say “No Hablo English…go way coke head”.

I get to this place, hitch a short but much appreciate ride in to “town” and get a cabana to stay in. The beach here is top notch. The water is cold, like home and has big surf. The beach is split in two by a large rock….like a hill. The sea has carved caves in that burst water out when you least expect (witness a pocket full of very It pesos). I play around on beach I have to ourselves, aside from a goat that walked by. Stupid goat. Teo has been staying here and I didn´t even see him. How sad. I take siesta on the beach, boy am I glad I bought my gigantic disney themed toIl. After rousing I Int back to the cabana. Now a cabana conjures romantic ideas of a breazy quiet place, this is not true. This was more of shack, but hey…either that or camp. I scarffed some more shrimp and Int to the beach….50 feet away to look at the stars. There was no light pollution so it was really clear. The hippie ass mexicans that are camping made bonfires…and other smoke too. There was one huge short falling to the cabana. IT HAD NO FRIGGING MOSQUITO NETTING! The next morning I get out of bed, noticed I did not say “woke up”…yeah damn cheeched mexicans and their drums. I pack and go wait on the highway for a couple of hours till the “hourly bus” shows up. Another series of bus changes and I find our selves last night here, in Zihuat.

After a lot of showering and combing of facial hair I am now sand free. It is around 11 in the morning…I just had a huge glass of cool fresh squeezed OJ and am sitting in place 20 feet from the water. The fishermen are cleaning their catches and selling em right there. Breezy and warm. The kid here is starring at my calf…which I am sure is not that interesting, but he seems to get a kick outta it. My mind is wandering. Like how come fishermen here are all about cleaning their catch, but not themselves…phew. I can smell this dude from 10 yards.

Ok, nuff time inside. This town rocks and I got´s to do some Laundry sooner or later, otherwise my last Fisherman comment is wicked hypocritical

We have been holed up in Hue, which is smack dab in the middle of Vietnam.  This city was a the center of the old Vietnamese Empire prior to the French colonization in the 1880’s.  We are in the section of the city called the Citadel.  10km on a side this part of the town is seperated by a moat, huge walls, and ring impeneratable cyclo drivers yelling “WHERE YOU GO!”

The rain and mist makes gives this place a really exotic feel right now, very happy here.

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We are across the street from the Imperial Enclosure (more walls, old palace, and place called the Forbidden Purple City (snerk!)).

Today we hired a driver and went up past the old DMZ and checked out some of the war remnants.  Highlight, the Vinh Muoch Tunnels.  A sprawling series of tunnels dug by residents of the village to escape the heavy bombings from the US.  Since the weather is a little rainy the place was deserted, we were the only people there.  We wandered around unground in tunnels that I could almost fit in.  Kate boldly lead us up a “path” that turned into “a perilous washed out gully” which we slide down…becoming covered in red clay mud!  AWESOME!

We actually ended up outside the park by a quite a bit and had to walked around the barb wired outside and come back in the front gate.  Needless to say, the ladies selling stale mentos were quite amused.

We are off to Saigon again tomorrow.  Home on Monday, weird.

Tossed some more photos up on flickr

Most Surreal Part of the Day:

Quang Tri Church, a site of intense fighting after the North crossed the DMZ.  This place was on the side of highway 1.  The roof is long gone, but the walls and raised diases in the middle is in tact.  The place is covered in bullet holes.  Absolutely just peppered with them.  There are even a long line of them on the ceiling. 

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Still suffering from massive burning, so we nixed the beach today and spent a nice mellow day hanging out in restaurants and watching people go by.  I drank 3 bottles of sprite before noon, take that teeth.

Tossed some more photos up on the flickr-net.

Does it wig anyone else out how easy it is to stay in communication now?  The first time I went to Asia (10 years ago now) there were internet cafes in a few major towns, some countries here didn’t really even have them.  Now I can toss photos out, upload videos, and pretty much stay in constant contact.  The world is much smaller.

We hit the beach and it hit back. There was a gap of about 15 minutes when I was sun screen free (being drug along the sandy ocean bottom by waves tends to make that happen) and the sun schooled me! I have an almost exact replica of the Euro-Asian Landmass (minus the Indian sub-continent) burned on my left side. Niiiiice.

Hey, Science, how about figuring out a way to block that sun a little, eh? Just saying, we can put a man on the moon but we can’t build a giant umbrella in space to protect me? Sounds like Big Sunscreen has some politicians in their pocket. Walk up America!

Tomorrow, back to the beach. Go super sun burn healing powers, GO!

Oh, by the by, the beach is lovely. We camped out in some beach chairs in front of a restaurant drinking fresh squeezed orange juice. The sand is very fine and stretches to the Northern horizon, actually quite a bit further (20 miles or so). Lines of breaking waves line up and roll in slowly, great to play in.

Off the breakers there are fishing boats and the funny wicker boats that must have seemed like a good idea here.

Boat Builder One: “So, check out my new boat design! It’s perfectly round and made of wicker! Whoo-Boy, this sombeech is going be awesome!”

Boat Builder Two: “Right. Like it, very bowl like. Although, won’t it just go in circle if someone were to row it?”

BB1: “Oh, well. Hey, to be honest…I don’t know. I, personally, don’t go near the water, terrifies me frankly. Plus, did you ever wonder where fish “take care of business”? Ew.”

BB2: “EXCELSIOR!”

Snerk!

Add more photos on the ole’ trusty Vietnam Photo set

Ah, the rain and overcast has passed! We had awesome sunshine yesterday, which worked out well since we went on a sunrise trip to the near by My Son temple site.

My Son is one of the Hindu inspired sites that dote S.E. Asia (Bagan, Ankor, Attuyia (spelling!) are others). Hitting it at sunrise, we were the only group there, about 10 of us, I led Kate immediately away down a cool winding path opposite of the tour group. We only ran into them for about 2 minutes the whole time, excellent.

This place was built by the Cham, a people who lived in Central Vietnam and had a pretty large empire until they cheesed off a Vietnamese king and were absorbed.

Hoi An is absolutely charming. We are now BFF with some tailors here, I am coming home with a stack of custom fit clothes. Plus two, rather silly looking shoes I had made. Good Stuff.

Thinking we will loiter here in Hoi An for another day, then off to Hue for a few more days. Home in little more than a week (yiiikes!).

Some photos of the trip so far on our Vietnam flickr set.

Painfully slow connection prevents me from posting them here.

The world is very small. Please, enjoy for you very special video of driving in Dalat. Reflection from helmet catches most scenic view for you. Very gooood!

Dalat Crusing from longwalkhome on Vimeo.

In the past, when I was younger, unmarried, and possibly invincible I would rent a motor bike and get good a lost in country side.  Good times indeed.

Now, I prefer to go the safe route and hire a driver (actually two, one for Kate as well).  We used the very well organized Easy Riders.  This group grew out of local taxi drivers who covertly (Hanoi wasn’t always so big on tourists hob-nobbing with locals) drove outsiders around.  Now that the country has gone full bore into tourism, these guys have been given license to provide top-notch (bad ass?) rides to whities.  Speaking excellent english, they can be hired for $20 to take you to all the sights near Dalat.

Having just got back, I am psyched about these guys.  We had a great little trip, about 100km and 7 hours (lots of stops) we scoped out some of the local industry.  Happily, this wasn’t hokey, factory tours.  They stopped by at families’ houses and kind of let us wander around asking questions.  Checked out a coffee plantation, silk farm (AWESOME), various temples and buddhas, and checked out a very neat waterfall (picture a Klipping book, minus the child reared by wolves).

Random observations:

The male silk worm only lives 3 hours outside of the cocoon, entirely in the process of “continuing the species”.  Wink Wink, nod nod.  Of course he is then eatten by the female.

Kate’s eyes are celebraties here.  I feel invisible (except for my head, more on that) whenever her peepers are out.  I totally get what Dave Mustane feels like now.

My head is beautifully, freakishly huge.  Whenever I strapped the tiny helmet on my mighty goard of a head, it solicited great interest (Laughter and pointing) from anyone in visual range.  Seriouslly, the helmet looked like I was wearing a shinny Yahmeka (maybe not quite).

Even with a huge head, some wise guy needs to make a “happy buddha” comment about me.

Okay, off to shower, nap, and wash the shame of huge headedness from my soul.

Love,

Ryan 

Still in the town of Dalat, really feeling good.  After changing to a new hotel (upgraded to a deluxe 5th floor with soaking tub, $25) after we left the $6 beauty we had the first night.

Walked around the town, enjoying the lack of heavy traffic, the hills, and the very market.  Oh the market, really Kate’s first foray into the sometimes dicey world of open air meat, spices, and limited ventillation.  Surprise, surprise, this is one the top 5 markets I have ever been too.  We bought lots of weird fruits, things I hadn’t seen before, a prison shank to cut the fruit, and Kate took some captivating photos of the toads and eels in the Squiggle Town, home of the freshest eats.

Despite the fact this town isn’t exactly off the tourist track, we were the only ones in the big market.  I got some serious winking, nodding action down, while Kate shrewdly bought everything we were offered in the way of snacks.  No complaints.

 Dalat is one of 5 towns I would happily live in, one of only a few places I have been to world-wide.  Of course, that means Kent, Wa is off the list forever.  Time to sell of my flannel.

Tomorrow, the country side from the back of a motor bike.