It's good to be home

My amazing sisters made these banners for my Mom and I. We do indeed feel welcomed and are excited to be back in the comfort of our home. I from 10 days in SW China and 5 and a half months backpacking in S America and SE Asia, and Mom back from a 10 day mission trip in Haiti. We are so thankful and blessed and lucky to be be among the 3% of Earth's Americans who enjoy enormous safety and prosperity.
I wish a Happy Holidays to all my friends both around the world and here in the USA. There is nothing like traveling abroad to make one realize how much he loves his family and friends back home. Cheers!

Books I read in 2010

Books I’ve read this year, 2010: (pretty sure I read more, will update as I remember them)

“The Life and times of the thunderbolt kid” by Bill Bryson, a utterly joyous, fantastic unforgettable memoir of his childhood growing up in 1950’s in Des Moines, Iowa

“The Pilgrimage” by Paulo Coehlo

“The Lord of the Rings” trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien’s (half way through 2 towers, so will probably finish reading Return of the King in january). Realized LOTR is literature of a higher order!

“Confederacy of Dunces”, in April

“Kon Tiki” in January ( discovered that,by coincidence, Uncle James and Tim Becker were also reading Kon Tiki at that time)

“1421”-the year China discovered America.

Listened to audio book on cd of Until I find You by John Irving. And some others I cant recall, while working Pole counting in Yakima

“Mountains beyond mountains” story of Dr. Paul Farmer’s work in Haiti and abroad. Listened to audiobook

“Richer by Asia” by Edmund Taylor, found book at Pirates of Ipanema Hostel in Rio, Brazil

“Although of course you end up becoming yourself; A Road trip with David Foster Wallace” by David Lipsky

“The Good Earth” by Pearl S. Buck

“Earth Warrior; Overboard with Captain Paul Watson and the Sea Shephard Conservation Society” by David B. Morris

“Whale Warriors” by Peter Heller. About Captain Paul Watson and his Sea Shephard Conservationn Society. Inspired to read these by Uncle Steve Munson upon learning he bought the vessel “Farley mowat”- the boat used by Watson in Earth Warrior.

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, given to me by the Stewarts in summer visit, 2009 for my b-day present. Read in may and june 2010 while working in Aberdeen, WA.

Read most of “if I get to 10 (sp?)” given to me by Mike Fuller, father of Lindsay Fuller.

“Better Off”, by Eric Brende. Read on beach on Ko Phangan, Thailand

“The Snow Leopard” by Peter Mathieson, book I had just started reading when I met the dazzling Anna-Celina Morgaine (in a rainstorm)at the Garden Village Guesthouse in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

“A Short Walk through the Hindu Kush”, by Eric Newby. finished reading in Luang Prabang, Laos.

“Stones into Schools”, by Greg Mortenson, of 3 cups of tea fame. Bought at book reading in seattle where I shook his hand and received his autograph in the book!

“The last Navigator” by (uncle) Steve Thomas-finally could relate to this amazing story/anthropolical quest, after a few attempts over the years. Absolutely grand adventure of a young man about my age-one year older-30. Makes me want to get to know my uncles much more closely, all of them really, what if I did a tour around the US by bicycle and visited all of them spending one or 2 weeks with each of them and chronicling it all in a journal? That would be fascinating.

Through the Looking Glass; a dream of cameras

Last night i had a strange dream, though the whole time i recall being slightly thrilled at each odd turn of events. I had been at a second hand shop. Or was it thrift store, or was it the basement of my parents house, one that i didn't recognize at all? I found a big old film camera, an enormous slr thing, i recall considering buying it as craved the feel and smell and look of good old film. And it was cheap, next to nothing. i thought how heavy is this camera, and bulky! why is it so heavy? As i turned it over to inspect the bottom i now noticed what i took to be a long thin screen running the length of the camera body toward its base. How strange, an lcd screen on a film camera, hmmm...but it was a film camera, what gives? I then realized the screen popped out of a recess, like a detachable car stereo faceplate, and it could extend out from the body on an arm, and it was not an screen but rather a magnifying glass, like those rectangular ones that grandparents have to help them read small print. i looked through it at the camera and noticed that i could see through the actual lens too, and that i could now focus really well on things very far away using the telephoto lens. What an interesting idea, i thought.
Then i noticed a little door where the recess was and upon opening it i discovered stored there the battery charger cord, a spare battery pack, and 3 vials of some liquid- film processing fluid.
Not only that but there were also foam mattresses stored there, and it occured to me that i was now inside the camera body and it had become a sort of storage room, a little light filtered in from what i assume was the camera's lens somewhere above me.
The mattress was in exactly the same place as where my dad and i had left it when i moved away to go traveling. Hey- its been 6 months and no ones moved a thing!
I figure that thoughts of returning home must have prompted this trip to the dream storage area. What the camera means i dont know, other than perhaps the idea of seeing new things with new eye's ( for me almost literally, what with my cornea transplant), and challenging myself to perceive sights with a different attitude in order to open up new doors-the doors of perception- with my soul.
"Be true to your soul, nick! " That is what i wrote on my sky-lantern before i lit its torch and sent it aloft in to a night sky filled with thousands more. Even as i wrote that i asked myself "what exactly does that mean? Be true to your soul". be true- listen to your heart, let that quiet, private intuition be your guide, not just cold rationale. This would be a huge change for me and many people i think, for I have to now be able to let go of many defense mechanisms i've spent a lifetime building up. Some of these are good, but most are actually preventing me from really growing, like a pot-bound plant whose roots need to be totally disentangled, trimmed, spread out and replanted in a new much bigger pot with fresh healthy, rich soil. And maybe the plant, i mean the person, i mean me, needs to be physically relocated to a totally new place, letting go of all my past treasures. Even my old home. Letting go. Lets go. Then just go! When? Now! what? Yes, right now! But....I can't(!?) Yes you CAN! Stop being so afraid. Your going to be just fine, now GOOOOOOO Dude!!!! OK... ummm, bye? Yes, see you later.

First injury of trip! river boat pics!

And i say arrived relatively in one piece because I for the first time in years i took a nasty spill. I was walking up the set of stairs from the river boat which had stopped at the town of Pak Beng for the night. In the pitch dark we had to ascend a steep set of concrete steps of varying height, a few pads which were wobbly broken chunks. As I slowly stumbled up laden with my backpack, guitar in my right hand and left straining with all 4 bike panniers ( though only 2 had stuff in them), I tried to skirt around a clump of 4 little Laos children who for some reason had made camp in the middle of the stair case, blocking the way up. As I squeezed around them I caught my right foot somehow and proceeded to fall up the stairs, the guitar bonged on the steps, followed closely with my right shoulder and then the grand touchdown of my right temple and cheekbone. I shouted something angrily at the kids as I picked myself up. I figured that my toes must be in shreds like when i gouged open my right big toe at 4am in the empty streets of Rio back in July. In the ensuing chaos at the top of the stairs i found my friend Milizza who gaurded my pile of stuff from the mob of Lao guesthouse salesmen and prying little fingers of a small army of kids, as i stumbled blindly back down to the boat to see about my bike which now had been lowered from the roof and into the enclosed bow of the neighboring longboat with a fellow bicyclists bike. Ok, thats fine. Well we follow a man up the steep pitch black road zigzaging up another lane to a guest house that overlooks the river and shortly are shown to our room which is just fine, and only 100,000 kip, or $12, which we split. As soon as i threw all my stuff down I inspected my wounds under the room's one and only ( and horrid) fluorescent light. The situation on the toe is not as bad as i'd thought, minor scrapes on top of the 3 biggest and a blood blister on the tip of the big toe. Phew... Now the shoulder- "AHHHH!!!!". Intense pain to the touch, i cannot lift it more than one inch with out shooting pain. although i can lift it up and all around using the left arm. So I guess its just bruised the bone, as still no external bruising can be detected (and now 2 days later its much better and i can lift it up under its own strength with only minor pain). Now for the head, i feel around the right temple and immediately swoon reaching for the bedside yelping in pain while a ringing fills the right ear and like after a loud explosion or a rock concert. A big bump has formed on the temple and on the cheekbones upper tip. Well that could be a minor concussion but nothing too major. I still know who I am and where i am and what the year is, though as any traveler can identify with i have no idea what the date is, or the day, which is simply the norm when one has no use for such trivialities. After a quick shower i join my friend and a German man at the guesthouse resteraunt which is on a balcony overlooking the dark and swift moving river far below and a vague visage of the farm studded hills opposite our lookout. Fish curry is ordered, and bottled pints of cold Beer Lao is delivered pronto, a native libation that has proved irresistable to everyone in SE Asia, including myself.

Arrived in Luang Prabang, Laos last evening at Sunset

More or less in one piece after a two day river boat trip. spent the night.

Report from Chiang Mai's Festival of Lights

It is Friday the 19^th of November, two nights shy of yet another year’s 12^th full moon. According to my watch the time is 10 of 8 in the pm. More important, though, than the time, is my actual location in space-time at this very special moment. I’ve found myself among the merry multitudes whov’e traveled far and wide to the storied city of Chiang Mai, Thailand. It is a gloriously warm evening [1] on what happens to be the opening night of Thailands most widely celebrated festival, Loy Krathong, known to the West as The Festival of Lights.

In Chiang Mai the highlight[2] are the thousands of Khom Fai, or ‘sky-lanterns’, meter high candle-lit paper cylinders which are continuously made aloft to fill the vastness of the night like a kaleidoscope of red planets. Indeed they are planets, for each and every sattelite embodies the repentance’s, hopes and wishes, and the forgiven sins of the past year. All across the city families and friends gather to air their grievances in a most literal sense.

As I sit at my table at Daret’s Guest House my gaze rises from my heavily sweating bottle of Chang (half full) and crosses a busy street past the blur of tuk tuks, old vw’s and scooters ferrying entire families to fall on a small crowd which has gathered near the bank of the Old City moat. They are watching a man light his lantern and gently hold it out over the moat balanced, just barely, on outstretched hands. The flame is brilliant and surprisingly fiery- more like a fledgling inferno than a mere “candle”. He is lifting it in tiny, cautious tosses, like a new parent their toddler, testing its readiness of flight. Besides saying his prayers he must also gauge whether the flame is hot enough to take it quickly aloft above the reach of tree tops and temple spires.

The crowd waits as if frozen in time. He tosses it now just a bit higher and a flurry of cameras shutters crackle like sparklers, a collective nervous tic. At last he releases it, sending it up high beyond his grasp, his arms outstretched as if in rapture. The flicker of orange firelight washes over his whole body. But alas, something is wrong; the lantern reaches its zenith a mere five meters above the moat and the crowd gasps in horror as it makes a slowmotion descent into the dark water. There it pauses once more as though in a final mocking salute, sputters and sinks out of sight.

The poor[3] man is now on his knees. Silently he stares at where his hopes for the next year have just disappeared. This is an unexpected turn of events, and clearly not a good sign. No one has dared approach him, and the crowd quietly, awkwardly drifts away. I too am shocked, and wonder what thoughts, if any, he could be thinking now. I think, all of a sudden about my future, what will happen to me this next year, and all that has happened just this last year. Not just where I’ve been and what I’ve done but how my attitudes, interests, and even my spiritual beliefs have changed. I realize that no matter how many lanterns we light or how many stars we wish on, ours is a future filled with a cosmic mixture of all our past decisions, and of our parents before us, and the constant implication of circumstance on the course of all our lives.

The man is totally alone now, though people and traffic still rush past all around him. He has risen to his feet now but has not moved from the very spot where he launched his sky-lantern. But now his gaze is turned skyward and I can tell he has left his grief and has joined the rest of us now, to watch in wonder all the other beacons which have begun to fill the sky. For his dreams, he must realize, are all our dreams, his losses we pine for too, and his joy’s we share in shouts triumphant the whole world over. As massive fireworks begin to explode around us and the shockwaves ripple through hearts and minds alike, I take off my glasses and set down my pen, as all lights blur into one.

---

[1] It feels comfortingly, eerily, given the pops,whistles, and booms of firecrackers, like the 4^th of July back home

[2] no pun intended

[3] Poor, quite literally as the lanterns are not cheap.

Onward and Upward ( or NxNW)

Farewell Cambodia! Sunset from atop Garden Village Hostel (Unedited)
Greetings friends,
Left Siem Reap, Cambodia last Sunday and made my way back to Bangkok. The trip was a long and arduous all day affair involving 3 legs; first a shared taxi to the crazy border town of Poipet, reassembled my bike which was in pieces bungy-corded and barely held into the Toyota Camry's trunk with mine and the other 3 passenger's luggage (soon 2 be 4 of us in the back seat!).
Then the wait in the agonizingly slow, packed and stifling hot customs line for a new 2 week Thai visa, then a 6 km furious ride to the next town, Arranya- Prathet to catch the last train to Bangkok. Then a long drawn out (and in the end vain) argument about paying the extra bike fee, an exorbitant 90 Baht- my train ticket was only 45 Baht! I had met a cyclist who said she just refused to pay and they dropped the subject. Well i tried that but to no avail. It was only an extra $3 dollars anyhow. Sat in the rear of a car full of Thai hipsters and orange robed Buddhist Monks.
Got 2 tattoo's on BKK's notorious Khao San Road late last monday night, my first time under the needle. Very painful, no matter what they say! They are both Salish design's i found on the ole' internet. An Orca whale on the right shoulder, and on the left a Thunderbird. The tattooing process itself feels like being cut continuously with a burning hot razor blade for 2 hours. I am told the traditional Asian method of manual Bamboo needle inking is far more painful. Forget that then!
The results are spectacular, at least i think so! Mr. Yai did a great job. Which is good as yes, "they are real!" which is what i constantly tell the Thai people who stare at them, smiling (when are Thai's not smiling?). They all seem to really like the designs.
At the moment i am in a little cafe my the south moat in Chiang Mai, a city in Thailand's mountainous north. Arrived on Monday after a looooong 17 1/2 hour train ride (which i barely made and only by riding across BKK at night with a flat front tire, dodging Taxi and ignoring all the passerby shouting what i guessed to be "Hey idiot! You've got a flat tire!". Made the train in seconds flat.
I was my first time experiencing a "Sleeper Train", and after stowing my pile of bike panniers and, big pack, and guitar I plopped into my little bed to find it surprisingly comfortable. I drew shut the privacy curtain and fell into a deep sleep from 1am to around 7, awaking only when the sun's rays reached my eye's and forced them open, The view out the half open window to my left was of one of endless steep, vivid green hills rolling by like ocean swells, all draped thickly with mounds of broad leaved evergreen tree's, vines with purple flowers, clumps of soaring bamboo, and random spires of brave lonely Palm trees. I had been told the north was cold, but it seemed even hotter than the south. The whole time I was too enthralled to take photo's, opting to capture the verdant scenery in my minds eye only, declining the unnatural distraction of trying to get "the right shot".
Chiang Mai is fairly big city, filled with University's and their legions of college students whizzing around on ancient Vespa's (chinese made), Honda 70's, ( a vintage design that's still made today, you can buy one (a fake) for only $300. There are long broad avenues lined with big leafy trees, and at the center the jewel of the Old City. The Old City is square in shape, maybe 1KM (or 2?) in width, and surrounded on all sides by an incredibly picaresque ancient crumbling wall, itself protected a tree lined moat 10 meters across. The OC is an enclave of stunning gilded teak temples, old teak dignitary homes, guesthouses tucked down narrow Soi's (side streets) and great little cafes and coffee shops. And the coffee here is excellent! This is due to the perfect climate, where coffee plantations abound in the surrounding hills.
The famous Festival of Lights is in full swing this weekend in Thailand, and the epicenter is here in Chiang Mai where it is known locally as Yi Peng. This annual casting away of past sins is celebrated by lighting candles and either floating them down the river on little wooden rafts or setting them aloft in what look like those huge, oversized lampshades from the 1960's. From all across the city these ships laden with remittances, wishes, and thanksgivings float and soar away. The giant paper lanterns are the most dramatic. Last night i caught one rising up from the far side of the old city wall, filled with a flame maybe a foot high. It was a majestic, profound sight made all the more remarkable in it's solo flight. I was expecting to witness the lantern's setting off in vast herds, as in all the photo's i'd seen over the years. Somehow this solitary beacon, lit and sent aloft by a small inferno, and combined with its sudden appearance above the lip of an medieval wall, grabbed hold of my heart strings and i felt lifted up along with it, high into a vast and unknown sky.
Presently I am waiting for my China Visa which i hope to pick up in 3 hours, for the breathtaking some of $190 US...geeez. I hate even writing that! But i had to Rush it as i'm off to Laos on Monday as my Thai visa expires on Tuesday-yikes! (though they always grant a few days of overstay i'm told). After visiting Laos my hope is to head north into China, and on to the central China city of Chengdu.
Reading a great, hilarious classic travelogue written in the 1950's by the Brit Eric Newby entitled "A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush". Nice to laugh my way through a book after the amazing but rather serious minded "Snow Leopard".
Then met up with a South African traveler- the lovely, glowing Melliza, an acquaintance I met in Peru and only on the train ride from Machu Pichu to Cuzco. We'd kept in touch upon discovering our mutual SE Asia travel plans, and finally our paths happened to cross once again. It is great to see a familiar face and we pick up our conversation right where we left off, discussing dreams and goals related to living in harmony with the earth, living off the grid and growing all our food and medicine's, and endeavoring to win more people over to the good side the Force. Also practicing my new guitar. Took a Yoga class last night.
The weather is glorious here, blue sky's and HOT, current temp reads 28 centigrade! (that's 82 on the Fair-end-height Scale, for all my fellow backwards Americans).
Farewell for now.
Nick

Cambodia, Land of water and Wat

Hello friends, its been 5 weeks since my last update. many apologies. Rest assured I have not been sitting around watching paint dry. I have been in South East Asia since September 5th when i flew into Bangkok Thailand with my bicycle in tow. The bike was a last minute addition as i was tired of spending so much time on long bus rides crossing South America the previous 2 months. I longed to be more in touch with the landscape and the local peoples. Bringing my bike on the plane cost no extra money which was a nice surprise. And now for a brief synopsis:
At the moment I am in Siem Reap, Cambodia, the gateway town to the vast temple complexe's known as Angkor Wat and the many other temples, or "Wat's" that are scattered about this part of the ancient Khmer Empire in various states of ruin and restoration. I spent two days visiting the temple's. They are an awesome sight to behold and made me feel rather humble and small. The experience was nearly overwhelming and i struggled to not become "templed out". I was there to observe and appreciate the magnificent structures of ancient civilization and I did see and most certainly appreciated all the ruins. Some are swarming with tourists, some are abuzz with Cambodian laborer's who are slowly and miticulously rebuilding what all consider their pride and joy and part of their own collective pasts. Many hundreds are employed doing various tasks of archeology and dusty sweaty grunt work.
I am staying in a nice guest house, Garden Village, where i am finally taking a couple weeks off and just hanging out, especially as it is quite affordable-only 2 dollars a night for my own room. I'm reading alot and am in the middle of a great memoir travelogue", "The Snow Leopard", by Peter Mathieson.
So thats now. Rewind a month. I stayed a few nights in Bangkok and then the next week riding west and south down the Peninsula to the island paradise of Koh Phangan. The journey there was 500km over 5 days, my longest bike trip to date. I enjoyed it immensely and was challenged and inspired and exhausted in equal portions. People certainly treat you like a god when you are on a solo cycling trip, staring in wonder and amazement as I pedaled my big red bike past them, laden down with bags and a tent. Thai people (and Cambodians) are astonishingly friendly and helpful and go out of thier way to help you with whatever you need. I was daily blown away by the spirit of friendliness and hospitality. I must have waved back and yelled hello a hundred times a day, mostly to little kids who ran after my shouting hello and goodbye and giggling sweetly while waving their little arms in the air like i was a rescue helicopter.
After 3 days laying on a white sand beach and reading a great book called "Better Off", i'd had enough sun and hopped a ferry and then a night bus back to BKK (bangkok). After a few days rest i rode the 3rd class train east to Cambodia, (which cost 48Baht, or $1.50 for a 6 hour ride) through flooded fields glowing with lush greenery and dotted with palm trees.
And here I am. At this moment i am being devoured by Mosquito's so i must go.
More later, but not too much later i hope this time.

There are many photo's of Bangkok and my bike ride on Flickr. Am working on uploading Cambodia pics. Check them out at; www.flickr.com/photos/rustblue. just click on the Bangkok Set" and the "5 day solo bike ride Set"
Cheers, Nick

Cuzco, Peru, Ancient Inca Capital, Gateway to Machu Pichu!

Waiting for my pal Erin from Australia to meet me here at the infamous Hostel Loki. The header photo above is the view from my room. Not bad, eh? The photo of the large group of people is a bit of sunday afternoon comedic entertainment. A man pretend to taunt a Cholita- the native ladies who wear a most unique-to-Andean-culture, multiple ruffled skirts, knitted sweaters, and bowler hats! But the lady is really a man and was really hamming it up for the crowd, who were in stiches, even the attendant Cholita's themselves!

Cuzco is the ancient capital city of the Incan Empire, and has been a capital city for 900 hundred years. When the spanish sacked the city and murdered the last Inca King they then tore down all the amazing stones they could figure out how to move and constructed the cathedral on top of the ancient temple's, often literally using the old foundations. (Why not right. The massive mortarless stones obviously weren't going anywhere)This was done all throughout the empire and was meant to be a psychological move. "We not only have subdued you savage's but we've replace your temple's with our's. Our way of life even our religion is now totally forced upon you. So there!"

The McDonald's pictured is directly across the main plaza from the Catedral (pictured). The military parade in the photo takes place each Sunday morning. I made the mistake of standing on the nice green grass to snap a picture and then i was whistled at by an angry Peruvian. Like in most other countries besides the State's, grass is for looking at, not sitting or walking on! Shame on me. Felt very much the dumb gringo, with my two back packs on and my camera around my neck.

Last night i finished reading a book i'd started in Rio. "Richer by Asia" by Edmond Taylor. Published in 1947, it is the nonfiction account of his 28 months in wartime Asia, mainly in India and the a bit in Burma, working for the OSS studying how people think, and how to help the British-US allied force there get along and focus on the job of defeating Japan. In the book though, he mainly shares how the 2 years there changed his thinking of the East. After realizing he knew next to nothing about their religions and ways of life, which were then and even more now accounting for more than half the planets population, he began studying Hinduism and Buddhism and finally realized that if ever there was to be a united world, One World as he calls it, then the west would have to come to an understanding and appreciation of a number of the East's so called 'backwards' ways.

It was a fascinating read, especially as it was happening in an incredibly tumultuos period in world history, on the cusp of the violence and chaos of British withdrawal and Indian Partition, the rise of Ghandi's leadership and cultural revolution, the dropping of the first nuclear bombs, america's wrestling with the physical, spiritual/moral fallout from what could be basically considered mass murder on the scale of even our sworn enemies the Nazi's. It made me realize how much i really dont know about even US history, not to mention world history (for instance, i'd never even heard of the OSS).

I better go now. time to unpeel my eye's from my computer screen and say hello to the real world.

Happy Labor Day to all my friends back home,

Cheers!

Nick

Catching up on catching ya'll up

Apologies for the long absence. My excuse is good though! I was far far away from the city. First in Samaipata, a little mountain town for four days and then on a farm for 8 days and both had no internet!

Thursday August 26th I left the farm to return to Santa Cruz in one of the old beat up toyota wagons that are the de facto taxi's and are zip all around Bolivia, connecting distant towns, and they always pack people (and chickens!) in. My first ride was in the front seat which i shared for two hours on a bumpy road with another guy. i was basically hanging half out the window. i wanted a discount for that but no dice. had to pay the whole whopping $5 fare. The other time i was in a van taxi next to a very talkative bolivian lady who while super nice after two hours of halting psuedo-conversation where 90% of it was her and i trying to figure out what we were saying, and but then she insisted on showing me cell phone pics of her little black and white dog, which was cute and fun for all of a minute. Then to my relief she shifted her focus to the very tired middle aged Australian lady named Amelia in the back seat who spoke little more spanish than I (as in none).

Found out later when i ran into Amelia up at the El Fuerte ruins that there was a chicken in the back seat the whole time that never made a peep and belonged to a bushy eyed owl of a bolivian man we had picked up on the side of the road an hour out of Santa Cruz! There were actually two older bolivian men in that back bench seat and both never made a peep either. The lady apparently took on the job for all of us.

After getting dropped off on the highway out side Samaipata, I hiked by myself the long hot dusty road to El Fuerte, about 6km, with all my trip-ly possesions strapped to my back. El Fuerte is ancient city atop a hill overlooking incredible mountain vista's. First built by pre-incan's, it was occupies and expanded by Inca and then Spanish conqueror's who all left their own additions and subtractions on the site that may have supported up to 20,000 citizens at a time. Not much is known, really, about the site, other than the main rock was surely ceremonial in nature and never actually of true military significance. The ancient name has been lost. A bit more info can be found here through wikipedia. No one though desputes the presence of an energy field. Whether because of the ruins, or the ruins are there because of it. I could not deny feeling a powereful vibe while standing near the summit of the temple mound. Sadly, the public can no longer walk to the very top where is situated a sunken circle of alternating seats of triangles and squares. women are triangles men are...well, square.

After 2 hours exploring and staring down the mysterious hole in ground which some say was part of an underground passage system linking all major inca sites (and other's daresay was just a well), I started back down with all my heavy gear and shortly was offered a ride from a nice couple from Washington D.C. I hopped into the pickup bed and enjoyed a much easier way onward to my next destination, the sleepy mountain town called Samiapata, whose very name means "rest-in-the-hills". Immediately headed to a hostel, called "Anderina" whom my 3 year old Lonely Planet guide book said had a roof top jucuzzi as my legs and back were much in need of a soak. Got there and checked to the quiant place with an enclosed garden patio. They jucuzzi was there, but had never been finished so was just an empty tiled rectangle with a great, albeit windy, view.

The next day i spent wandering in town and observed the last heat of a time trial Rally race (what?!), the talk of the town, and the noise of it too as I could hear in the distance the race cars' exhaust screaming from clear atop El Fuerte, 4km away.

After 3 nights in Samaipata, including an all day hike to an remote mountainous area called Bella Vista, on Tuesday evening I headed south back to Ginger's Paradise Farm, sharing a taxi with 2 swiss girls, Karen and Sarah. I had been hoping to help harvest coffee and learn the whole process of making coffee. We arrived around 8pm and stumbled across the swinging indiana jones style rope bridge and the 10 minute walk down the trail across the river to the stone house where owner's Cristobal and Sol live with their amazing kids; 5 year old Ginger, 9 year old Dizzy, and 14 year old Nova. Despite arriving to a dark house shouting "Hola", we were welcomed with happy faces and Sol graciously ran off to make up beds at the guest house, an 8 minute walk back up the trail to the rope bridge.

I did learn to make coffee! The whole process was about 4 days. On my last morning, august 26th, I had a cup of the coffee i had personally harvested and wow it amazing, smooth, strong, and earthy. Sure beats the instant Nescafe coffee that is served almost everywhere in South America!

I then took a 16 hour bus north to La Paz, a dizzying 13,323 feet above sea level. I have been here a week which included a 3 day tour of the Salar de Uyuni, ( a 12 hour bus ride south) the largest salt flats on earth. The first day of that we cruised across the flats and in the evening were into more desert scrub brush landscapes, sorta like Washington's scab lands. stayed in the most unique lodging ever, a hotel made entirely of blocks of salt! A chewy dinner of Llama was enjoyed and washed down with a bottle of Bolivian red wine, "Vino Fino Tinto". Say that ten times fast.

The next two days were spent driving through surreal desert landscapes, surrounded by volcanos, and around twisting rock formations plopped in the middle of vast expanses of sand and dirt and shale rock, carved into fantastic shapes by eons of blasting sand storms. Throughout these regions were scattered vibrant lagune's, all colors of the rainbow, and in them all, bathing and refreshing in the mineral rich waters were flocks of pink flamingos! No cheesy plastic yard art here, just thousands of majestic birds doing what they have been for who knows how many millennia.

Well, i must go as i have to check out of my hostel room here at the Adventure Brew Hostel (they make their own beer!) in 8 minutes. Yikes!

I am off to Lake Titicaca today or tomorrow, and then to Cuzco, the ancient Inca capital in Peru, hoping to arrive sunday or monday in preperation of a 5 day trek to Machu Pichu.

So long and i hope you all enjoy reading about my trip and please check out my Flickr photo blog! I am proud of the many images I've been lucky to capture, and i feel it allows you to tag along with me.

Ciao,

Nick

The sky is blue, the water blue but the only thing blue about me is the teacup steaming by my breakfast pastry. The hostel resident dog is standing at attention thinking he might get some extra sympathy from a naive tourist. Not today pup.

While I'm sure i am a little naive i am really more than a little unsure what to do with my days. I had read that this happens to most people when the first start vagabonding. I've been so used to going and doing the past few years and now that i have nothing to specifically go to or things that need doing, i have frequent bouts of anxiety about that.

Now i know i might seem like the dog moping for sympathy. poor Nick. stuck in sunny Brazil. Somebody tell him what to do! My pal Lindsay said "Update your damn blog!" in a recent FB comment. Thats not a bad idea.

So today I was about to depart for Ihla Grande, a tropical island eco preserve 3 hours south of Rio, but alas the weather report says nothing but clouds and rain the next 3 days, and I am to head to Bolivia on Friday with a few travel, so i guess i missed my chance. Afraid to go there in the rain as 25 tourists were buried in an avalance last January during heavy rains. Thats a rational fear, right?

Its not like there's a lack of things to do in Rio, though. My favorite past time so far is to grab my goofy Ipanema touristy beach towel and slather sunscreen on the bod and catch some rays on Ipabema Beach just down the block from my hostel. If all else fails, if i come up with no other activities, why not just lay on the beach and while away the day.

Honestly this has been the most relaxing part of my trip so far. That's when it finally sunk in that i really am on the road indefinately, and while there's no reason why i should lay on the beach all day, there's also no particular reason i shouldn't. Now that was a revelation, and one that instantly made me realize just why every year millions of North American's choose to spend their entire vacations doing just that, flying to sandy, sun drenched, palm tree lined crescent beaches the world over. A quick google check reported 1,800,000 U.S. citizens flew to the Caribbean and the same to Mexico in 2010 already!

[Discovered a new favorite band the other day that I can't recommend enough. They are from LA and are called Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's. A so called 'hippy musical enemble' led by 31 year old Alex Ebert, former known as Ima Robot. They have a cast of about 15 total musicians and have a style that is part 70's rock opera and part sufjan stevensesque brass band explosion. His vocals are sung with ardent passion, the lyrics at times apocalyptic and at times very simple but also profound via the delivery. Like my two favorite's: Home and Jade. Listen to them here. Altogether lovely and inspiring- inspiring me to love other's and to keep my chin up. ]

View more Rio photo's here!

World's Away

Arrived in Belem, Brazil at 3am today all in one piece, save for two packages of whopper malt balls which had spilled open and coated everything in one of my boxes! Stew picked me up at the airport in Belem and we drove the 20 minute drive back in his 2009 vintage VW Kombi bus through some super rough neighborhoods to the school's little fortress, only slowing down at red lights as its unsafe to stop here at night. The gaurd in their alley lowered by hand his little chain to let us pass, and Stew laughed and shook his head. "Like that thin chain is gonna stop anyone".

The gaurd at the high main gate was more intense, but opened it right away when he saw it was Stew.

We bumped along a curving red dirt lane under a canopy of palm, acai, and towering glossy- leaved ficus trees toward, passing quiant white- washed bungalows along the way to his house.

As I took all this verdant jungle flora in through the Kombi's bulbous bay window i was struck by the realization that i'd traveled an amazing distance in a relatively very short time. I was in fact, worlds away. Just yesterday, Monday July 19th, starting at 6am morning a shuttle bus with my Dad and I on board wove his way through downtown Manhattan traffic horns blazing and deposited us at 7am at JFK airport. From there I flew Delta to to Miami, then to Aruba aboard an ancient 737 on Surinam Airways, and then to Paramaribo, Suriname. There, after much nauseating hassle to get my luggage actually on my soon to depart connecting flight, I fly on another ancient Boeing 2 hours south to finally touch down in Brazil. And on my 29th birthday too!

So I am taking it easy today(the sky just opened up too for my first Amazon-style rain shower), have a bit of jet lag and just plain exhaustion after a week driving across the USA with my pal Lindsay Fuller, visiting her amazing family in Birmingham, AL and the flying to Newark, meeting up with the Dad for 2 days of visiting relatives in Warminster, Philadelphia and 3 days exploring the sweltering sight's of the one and only Big Apple- New York City (Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, top of the Empire State Building, staring up slack-jawwed at the anemic Flatiron building, ferry to Staten Island, walk through Central Park passing by the Guggenheim Museum, delectable street food, perfect pizza, nightly beers at The B'Way Dive Bar, the fun never seemed to end)

The plan now is to hang out here for a week and visit with my dear friends the Stewart's and see the sights in Belem, and then to head down the coast of Brazil and eventually get to Cuzco, Peru by September 6th to hike to Machu Picchu via the Salkantay trail.

I am uploading a rather portly batch of photo's to my Flickr account right now so please take a gander and let me know what you like. It's good to be on the road finally, and in a foreign country. The horizon has never seemed so full of possibilities for adventure.

View my photo's on Flickr

Boulder has great New Orleans food, and dry air gives us mondo boogers!

Breakfast at Lucile's in Boulder with (L-R) Julie, Aubrea, LF, me, and Uncle Mark Miller who lives in nearby Arvada and who we called up last minute and he was thankfully home and met us this morning for a great meal. had not seen him for a few years and it was great to catch up with him! He is a musician too, as well as all those girls there so we had fun talking music. had a cajun omelet,yum!

Drove a heck of a long ways today, Down 25 nearly all the way to sante fe, then caught a shortcut hwy 84 to hwy 40 east.

Drove through a insane down pour (pictured). emerged unscathed. drove through New Mexico, entered texas, crusised through Amarillo, and shot right out the other side of the Panhandle into Oklahoma (yes, the wind does go sweeping down the plain). We saw a HUGE lone wind turbine in a little town in texas called Tucumcari, swore it was the biggest we ever saw. And we've seen an impressive number of wind power generators popping up all over the country sides so far on our road trip-an encouraging sight even if they are all subsidized by uncle sam. they are nevertheless clean renewable energy which is a heck of a lot better than more oil rigs, right?

About 2am we couldnt drive anymore and found a cheap Super 8 motel. the room is actually really clean and nice and the bathroom i about yelped when i turned the light on. It is so nice! Really! like recently and tastefully remodeled.

We got so engrossed in conversation earlier tonight that we nearly ran out of gas. the little light blinked on and we made it about 5 miles later to a little isolated station which was closed but the pumps were on. there was this old crumbling VW camper bus sleeping right by the pumps. ahh, memories. sight of vw's in the lone star state makes me think of Don Miller's memoir Through Painted Deserts, about leaving home in houston and driving across the west with his buddy in a similiar old bus. It was originally titled Prayer and the Art of VW Maintainance. Lindsay's new favorite word is "Dingleberry".

Which applies to anything and everything apperently. Here's one, actually!

Road Trip beginnings, like a giant slowly waking

After sitting like this for 5 whole minutes in Seattle, no one picked me up. So I called my friend Lindsay Fuller and she offered to take me as far as Birmingham,Alabama. We left an hour later. We are in Boulder, CO tonight. Had a fun night out in Denver at the Ogden Theatre, saw a band called The Hold Steady with Lindsay's friends Aubrea and Julie, old classmates of her's from Baylor U. yesterday we went to the Mormon temple in Salt Lake City where I almost got converted by a really cute LDS, but LF saved me at the very last moment and we left the heart of the beast and walked down the street to a bar called The Beehive Inn and downed a pint of cold refreshing Polygemy Porters, whose motto is "why have just one"?Indee. One was enough though.

First night out we stopped in La Grande,OR so I could see the hospital I was born at on a camping trip. not much has changed. the town was so small the ER room doors were locked and it seemed the whole place was closed for the night.

The landscapes we have driven through last three days have been sup

er varied-s. washington state (as pictured in rolling hills and blue sky), the desert of Utah and the mountains of Colorado. All throughout though we had the peace of knowing we were not more than 100 miles from a Starbucks, Subway or Costco.

Tomorrow should be a great day, breakfast with A and J and my Uncle Mark Miller is gonna meet up with us too i hope, even though we just called him today on our way into town.