wanderlust in the year of the ox

About PeaceBookings.com - Doing what we can to make a small difference in Tibet and Myanmar

2010-01-26T13:12:00.000-08:00

About PeaceBookings.com - Doing what we can to make a small difference in Tibet and Myanmar

Sao Paulo - New Years Eve

2010-01-05T08:47:00.000-08:00

Sao Paulo for New Years Eve

Feliz ano novo!!! In Portuguese, Happy New Year!!!

After a 30 hour odyssey from Japan (the largest city in the world, we arrive at the fourth largest city in the world, Sao Paulo (Sampa). Sampa is a sprawling metropolis, and we stayed in an upscale barrio called Itaim Bibi. We were couch surfing (www.couchsurfing.org) with a Brit, Stephen Boyd, an profoundly thoughtful, intellectual person who works for an investment bank and dates a marvelous woman (Patricia), a native of Sao Paulo. We were in very good hands.

Stephen and Patricia had just returned from 4 days at the beach, and had no plans for New Year's Eve. Our bodies were still, technically, in Asia, so we were jello-malleable guests open to anything and everything. While Cat took a power-nap, Stephen and Patricia took me on a walk through Ibirapuera Park, the architectural complex created by Oscar Niemeyer and a team of other architects. The park was largely disserted, but magnificent in its layout and buildings. When we got back to Stephen's apartment, I woke up Cat and we proceeded to enjoy chat, eat hors d'oeuvres, and enjoy some South American wine. It was a great venue to get to know our hosts, and to share stories.

Finally, we collectively decided to make the trek downtown to the Avenida Paulista, and hear the live concert and join the Sampa revellers. It can get a bit dicey in terms of pick-pockets, fights, and other crime, but Stephen suggested that we go relatively early to enjoy the vibe, and then depart before the party degenerated into chaos. It was a great plan. As we stepped out of our taxi, we could hear the samba music, and the murmuring of the building crowd. The policia had closed the access streets to the Avenida, and we cleared the security line without incident, except for Patricia's umbrella. Apparently, folding umbrellas can be used as weapons, and she was denied entrance with her "lethal" rain cover. Once on the Avenida, we bought some cocktails and wandered towards the main stage. More than a few very drunk revellers danced, sang, yelled, screamed, laughed and partied around us. We were pretty mellow by comparison, but were having a good time people watching and listening to the music.

Many of the locals seemed to have a different Avenida plan to ours. Since the policia denied access with containers of any sort, many people were stoned-drunk when they entered, and just rode the wave for the rest of the night. For a change, I was sober enough to simply observe and cherish my sobriety for a night.

Around 11:30pm, and towards the end of grammy award winner Maria Rita's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Rita) set, we hopped a cab for Itaim Bibi and toasted new years on Stephen's balcony with the pops of the fireworks echoing through the high-rise buildings.

It was low-key and highly special to make new friends and get exposed to a wholly new culture. As we gratefully laid down to sleep after our 3 continent odyssey the night before, we were grateful to Stephen and Patricia, grateful for music and joy on Avenida Paulista, grateful for the friends and family we would call the next day, and especially grateful for the opportunity to travel the world and create such memorable experiences.

Gettin' Old is a Drag(on)

2010-01-02T00:14:00.000-08:00

Having a birthday exactly 2 weeks before Christmas was a curse early in my life. My family did a good job of making me feel special growing up, but there were still the unavoidable "combo-gifts" (one slightly bigger gift that was for both my birthday and Christmas). I never wanted for anything important growing up, but still longed for memorable birthday parties, and Christmas differentiation.

My first differentiated birthday was when I turned 30. I called the party "Teo's 3-0", and essentially hosted my own party with a large contingent in San Francisco. The night was a revelation. I discovered that people were in a party mood 2 weeks before Christmas - all I had to do was ride the holiday spirit wave. Since then, I've plotted and planned my own birthday parties, to greater or lesser extent than when I turned 30, and often incorporated domestic and international travel, because, well it was a good time to travel after Thanksgiving and just before the Christmas rush.

Fast forward to 2009. The days were winding down on being 45 years old, and I had been negligent in putting together a plan. As of Thanksgiving, Cat and I were in limbo, and were contemplating canceling the remainder of the around-the-world (ATW) tour. The source of the limbo was that just before Thanksgiving, Cat's mom (Barbara) had not been feeling well and scheduled some very serious tests to see if she had a relapse of breast cancer, as well an MRI to rule out brain cancer. Serious stuff, indeed, so Cat flew home to offer support during the diagnosis. If Barbara was real ill, we were going to cancel the remainder of our world tour. Fortunately, Barb's tests came back clean and healthy, so Cat made plans to rejoin me in Bali. She did so a week before my birthday. Being in Indonesia, there were a ton of choices, but with time being short, I shared with Cat my half-plan (half baked, 50 percent random). Cat needed to see Ubud on Bali for a few days, and then I wa
nted to get to a remote beach.....fast. We opted for Gili Trawangan, a small sand bar off Lomboc island (see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gili_Trawangan), just a 4 hour ferry ride from Bali. It's a sandy shoal of an island, about 6 kilometers around. We walked it one morning, and it was a top-10 hike of our world tour in my book (Cat keeps her own book).

My birthday actually started at sundown on Dec 10th (on the evening after our walk around the island). Cat thought it would be fun to do a night dive off Gili, so we signed up with Blue Marlin Dive. It was a very cool dive, both in terms of all the cool critters we saw, and also for some man-made structures they are using to rebuild the coral reef.

The next morning was perfectly sunny, and we had breakfast on the beach, toes firmly planted in the white sand. The day went by in a flash, but
included all of life's pleasures - some winky winky (a good husband never talks......but blogging......that's acceptable), snorkeling Shark Point, booking our travel and liveaboard for Komodo islands (no small feat; we visited 5 travel agencies before our Divemaster recommended his friend, Jenny, who had friends that run a liveaboard), sunset beach, and a tasty grilled fish dinner under the stars. It was a great day.

The Komodo Liveaboard trip was still technically part of my birthday celebration, but it was a gift for us both, and something we had been dreaming about ever since we put Bali on our world tour. Indonesia is full of amazing dive locations, but something kept luring us back to Komodo. The more we read about the overall diving experience, the more we felt that we couldn't pass it up. But, we had to earn it. The flights from Lomboc to Bali, and then down to Flores to pick up our ship were completely booked for the dates we needed. So, we made a painful decision. We opted for the boat/bus/ferry/bus/ferry route - 34 hours start to finish!!! By the time we met Eddy and Fiona at the Lounge Restaurant/Bar in Flores we were in shambles, but completely STOKED for the adventure ahead......provided it started with a shower and a cold drink.

On the evening of December 13th, we boarded the Ari Jaya along with Thibault the Frenchman and Remco from Holland. The captain and crew were salty Sulawesi, all related, and all very much sea faring gents. When I was doing research about Komodo diving, the reports all said that drift diving was "the thing to do". In his first dive brief, Eddy explained why Komodo was unique. Between Komodo Island and Rinca Island, there is a East-West reef that lies 5 to 50 meters below the surface. On the North and South sides of this reef, the oceans quickly drop-off to 1000-1500 meters. So, everyday, when the tide changes, all the water runs in class-5 river rapids over the reef. And, with the heavy currents come hordes of all types of Indonesian fish - small blemmies to sharks to dolphins to manta rays. Or, at least that's what Eddy "told us" in his first dive brief. We had to go see for ourselves, of course.

Eddy and Fi (pronounced Fee) eased us into the drift diving with a protected cove dive at Saboyer. It was a terrific site, with only a little current and a wealth of sea life. It was the appetizer dive. After a giant-stride off the ship, we descended to 20 meters, and promptly were greeted by a manta ray gliding along below us. I was thinking, "nnnice start." Later in the dive I spotted a fairly rare crocodile fish resting on the reef, practically invisible in its camouflage. The visibility was good, the reef was healthy, and we were back to diving. Day 1 on the Ari Jaya included 3 dives at various, different topography sites, with meals interspersed during our surface intervals. After our last dive of the day, we took the dinghy around an island to intercept the big boat. It was sunset, and the sky was aflame in colors; punctuated with massive storm clouds and flashes of lighting. Eddy and Fi grinned knowingly, and were likely thinking, "just another day in th
e Komodos." For us, it was heaven on earth.

Day two started with a short dinghy ride to Rinca Island to see the legendary Komodo dragons. From the dock, we made our way through a mangrove forest and high-tide lagoon to the ranger station. It was 7:30am when we signed in, and picked up our guide. After a short walk we came to the guide's stilted houses, and sunbathing on the ground were 10 adult dragons. Apparently, the moment they smell the guides cooking breakfast, they waddle in from the jungle and surrounding hills, hoping for a handout. The guides waved good morning to us, and came down from their houses, each careful to look under the staircase in case a dragon was lurking. Given it was early morning, the dragons were docile and sleeping, trying to warm their cold blooded anatomy. A few moved (slowly, of course) to better sun positions, or into a better breakfast buffet position, I suspected. Everyone in our group was actively taking pictures and video - amazed, intensely curious. The guide kept repe
ating, "not too close. Not too close." Apparently, one bite from a dragon and the victim would require a week in a hospital getting IV's of antibiotics. Komodo dragons were (and always will be) highly lethal predators, particularly after they warm up in the sun.

After the initial photo op, the guide led us on a hike through the jungle to see the dragon habitat. Along the path, we came upon a clearing with 10+ large holes. Our guide explained that dragons dig several holes, but lay eggs in only one to confuse other predators, which it turns out are mostly other dragons. As the old Indo saying goes, "it's a dragon eats dragon world out there." Further along the path we came upon a female dragon with her head buried in a hole, dirt flying over her shoulder. In our commotion, she stopped, pulled her head out of the hole, and considered us. She was obviously unafraid of humans, and why should she be when we were terrified of her. The guides had found, and hung on a tree, a skeleton of a water buffalo that had been attacked, and its bones picked clean by the dragons. It was a chilly reminder of how and why these Jurassic survivors had flourished in this remote island region. Making our way back to the dinghy, we came upon a lon
er on the trail. We didn't have our guide, nor his long thumping-stick, so we pulled to the side to give her plenty of room to pass. She waddled in the morning sun, probably smelling the guides cooking (or the human buffet on the trail ahead of her), and her pink tongue licked the air. She was the top of the food chain, and just getting warmed up.

Day 2 diving was awesome. The premier, world-renown dive site in the Komodo Islands is Castle Rock, and that was our second dive on Day 2. Eddy's dive brief was great because he explained why the site was so unique, and not just where and how we would dive the site. To paraphrase his more eloquent explanation, Rinca and Komodo islands are separated by a shallow channel (5-50 meters) that runs East/West. When the tides change, the seas run from North to South, and funnel billions of gallons of water over the shallows in raging rivers of currents a couple of times a day. The seas go to 1000+ meters deep on the North and South sides of the islands, and the tidal shift essentially pours 5-10 meters of open sea through a narrow straight and over the shallow reefs. The sheer power of this spectacle is amazing, and we had the good fortune to be part of the tidal dance through the Castle Rock dive. Harry, the dinghy boat driver, perfectly positioned us on the side of the reef, down current from our target location on the South end of the reef. We had to do a negative entry (definition: back roll out of the boat with no air in the BC, and extra weight, and immediately descend to the reef at 20 meters). The current was the strongest I have ever experienced, and it immediately pushed us back as we kicked for the bottom. It was an exhilarating, anxious start to the dive. Once on the bottom, our dive plan was to move from the side of the reef, directly into the current, to the point of Castle Rock. In short bursts of kicking, we made our way from rock-hold to rock-hold, resting at each stop to ease our breathing. Me and Cat followed Fi to a forward position on the reef, and found a bare spot to lay down and enjoy the show. And, Oh MY!! what a show. The point of the rock faced into the oncoming currents, and a complete eco-system of sea life danced before our eyes, like a an underwater big-screen Hollywood premier. It was sensory overload, really. Riding the currents, white tipped and black tipped sharks prowled left and right 5 feet in front of us. There were schools of giant trevally, tuna, barracudas, and jacks, and the occasional hawk-billed turtle moving like a ship surrounded by jetskis. The species were too many to count, really. The aquarium show almost allowed us to forget that we were staring into a raging river, holding on for our lives. We were mesmerized until Fi motioned for us to follow her and Eddy into the blue. It's one of Eddy's favorite things to do in Komodo - be one with the fish; join the party. So, we kicked into the current and out into the deep blue ecosystem. The spectacle of nature was on full display, and we enjoyed it to the fullest with wide-eyed (some might say, bug-eyed since our eyeballs were practically protruding out of our masks) wonder. After a time, Fi signaled to us that the show was over, and we rode with the currents (finally, going with it) back to the middle area of the rock, and into the shallows for the safety stop. For the first time in my diving history, I ran low on air, and had to borrow from Cat and Fi. This minor embarrassment aside, it was SOOO exciting to dive Castle Rock. Looking back it seems surreal, and hard to picture all that we saw in those 12-15 minutes on the point of Castle Rock. It makes us want to go again....and again. Over dinner that night, Eddy and Fi explained that it's different every time because all the factors dynamically change - the intensity of the current, slack tide, pelagic migrations, the moon, seasonal changes, tidal shifts, plankton levels, water temperature, and so on. To this point, we dove Castle Rock the next day, at slack tide, and it was a completely different site. If they hadn't assured us that it was indeed Castle Rock, we could have sworn it was another reef completely.

After the morning dive of Castle Rock, Harry motored us to Manta Alley, and set us adrift in snorkeling gear. We had several other dives planned, so Eddy and Fi opted to let us experience the Mantas from above. There was gentle surface current, so we simply floated along the reef and watched groups of 2-6 mantas glide along feeding on plankton. We were in 5-10 meters of water, with good visibility all the way to the bottom, a sunny sky above and elegant black stealth mantas dancing below us. We were tired from Castle Rock, but everyone caught a second wind when we saw the mantas. In the end, we almost didn't get Thibault into the dinghy. He didn't want to leave the mantas.

We dove two more sites on the second day, and they were both good, but we were spoiled by Castle Rock and the mantas. It was all we could talk about that night. Day 3 was again a good day. We had clear skies, good visibility, and dove three more unique sites. The one that stood out for us was "The Cauldron". It was a dive site in the channel between two islands, where the currents really rip (and that's saying a lot in Komodo speak), and a large hole was created over time. The water rushes over the hole, and down into the hole (kinda like a toilet flush), and then runs out through the channel. The current has to be going away from the cauldron to dive the site. And, for fun, there is a dangerous down current in the cauldron that could be lethal. Eddy and Fi casually explained all this in the dive brief over a cup of coffee, and then told us to suit up. Cat was growing more anxious with every strong current dive, and was more than a little apprehensive. So, it w
as Fi to the rescue. She buddied with Cat, and I shifted over to Eddy, and the dive was as advertised. The first 20 minutes, we explored the reef adjacent to the cauldron, and in an calm eddy. Then, we angled into the current, and out into the channel, hugging the bottom as we peered into the cauldron. Then, Eddy signaled it was time to ride, and like skydivers we peeled off the bottom in formation and rode the currents from 30 meter depth up to 10 meter depth and over the lip of the channel. For effect, Eddy did his signature somersault and Thibault followed suit. They looked like dolphins. It was madness......and tons of fun. It's not the greatest dive we've ever done, but it was certainly unique and memorable.

Day 3 ended with the Ari Jaya motoring home to Flores with the sun setting on her stern. We had grown close to everyone aboard, and were melancholy that the liveaboard dive cruise was almost over. We exchanged emails and promised to keep in touch. Unlike other meetings, I sincerely think we will see each other again someday. The feelings of satisfaction and wonder at all we had seen and done stayed with us for days afterwards. I turned 46 years young in Indonesia, and thanks to Cat's encouragement and adventurism Indonesia put its mark on my soul.

Kill Bill Christmas

2009-12-25T09:17:00.000-08:00

Kill Bill Christmas

In the Quentin Tarrantino movie, "Kill Bill", there is a famous scene where Beatrix Kiddo (played by Uma Thurman) storms into a two-storied Japanese restaurant, and kills the Crazy 88 samarai body guards of O-Ren Ishii (played by Luci Liu) in a mad, impossible, incredible sword fighting smorgasborg of demented rage. The movie scene was shot at Gonpachi restaurant in Tokyo, and it was one of the places we wanted to visit. And, since we would be in Tokyo for Christmas, we decided to have a non-traditional western Christmas dinner, and call it the Kill Bill Christmas.

That's the background of the story, but the foreground was just pure fun. After having a few too many beers at Geronimo's on Christmas eve, we woke up late, and started our day at the crack of 1pm. Our first stop was Shibuya to shoot our video (see link on the blog) at the craziest intersection of any place on the planet. When the car traffic stops, and the pedestrians take to the pavement, they can go in any direction or all directions for the next 30 seconds. Then, when the whistles start to blow, and the lights flash, the cars have domain again, and tardy pedestrians are left to make a mad dash to the nearest curb. It's awesome!! Which is why we wanted to shoot our Christmas greeting there.

Since the Japanese only tentatively celebrate Christmas, we had a really hard time finding santa hats. I was pretty adament that we 'have to show our our Christmas spirit', and Cat went along, even though it took several days of looking for hats. In the end, a local from Baskin Robbins ice cream directed us to a department store, and we found the small display with santa hats on the 3rd floor next to the Household Items department. Properly outfitted, we shot 3 videos, and had a ball doing it. Interestingly, several people smiled at us, and a few people kinda payed attention, but for the most part, two people shooting a video in the middle of the intersection wearing santa hats was not an extraordinary event. Only in Tokyo.

After our "shoot", we walked up to Yoyogi park to a glimpse at the cos-play/anime girls. Theirs is such an amazing, artistic, dynamic display of self-expression that has turned into a sustained subculture. We are going back tomorrow to see more of them, ask a few more questions, and for good reason take more pictures.....which they are more than glad to accomodate.

Leaving Yoyogi park, we walked down Harajuku Street, and down some random off-streets, by innumerable funky shops and stylish boutiques. On our way back to Shibuya, we had to pee, so we stopped at a mall, and enjoyed a one-man piano concert playing classic Christmas songs. Being more than a tad homesick, it was good therapy for our souls, and we hugged tightly in our seclusion.

A short subway ride took us to the Midtown Tower in Roppongi. Two days ago we had met Cat's friend, Tomomi, at the building before going to a noodle bar lunch. After lunch, we enjoyed a formal tea ceremony at the Suntori Museum - a profoundly beautiful Japanese tradition steeped in ritual and symbolism. Walking around the park after the tea ceremony, we saw that there was a large Christmas light display, and vowed to come back. Christmas was the perfect day to revisit the light show. It was spectacular on a cool, crisp winter night in Tokyo.

Our final stop before dinner was to toast Christmas at one of the two "ex-pat" bars in Tokyo. Having enjoyed Geronimo's the night before, we combed the side streets to find Mugambo's, and its famous bell. Geronimo's has a drum, and Mugambo's has a bell. When someone buys a round of shots for the bar, the loaded patrons know what bar they're in by the sound. If you hit the drum, then you are buying a round of shots for everyone in Geronimo's. If you ring the bell, you buy a round of shots at Mugambo's. The current shot-buying leader at Mugambo's (according to the neon ticker tape machine) is some rich bloak who has ponied-up for 432 rounds......THIS MONTH. I ordered a beer, and Cat had a shot to honor the bell-man of 432 rounds.....whoever he is.

We had an 8pm reservation for Gonpachi, and showed up 15 minutes early. The staff was sooo nice, and the place was packed. The Maitre De, Kenji is from Venezeula, and he fawned over our hats and Christmas spirit. He has two baby boys, and is married to a Japanese woman. The hostess, Yuma is from Los Angeles, and she looked the part of hollywood starlett, dressed in an elegant form-fitting black dress. After spending some time at our table, she volunteered to take our picture outside to get a true Kill Bill portrait. She was so sweet and down to earth. We loved her. And, we LOVED the food. We ordered the set menu, and it included all the most popular items from each course of the ala carte menu. In the end, we salivated over the beef skewers, and just HAD TO have more......and better. So, we ordered the house specialty Kobe beef skewers - a taste bud altering gastromical extravaganza. In the end, we washed down the 7 course meal with a scoop of french vanilla ice cream drizzled with caramel sauce, and counted our blessings. Yes, we were away from family, from the familiar, but we were still with family, with each other, and that made all the difference in the world.....even on the other side of the world from home.

Merry Christmas. Remember the reason for the season.

Merry Christmas from Tokyo

2009-12-25T09:01:00.000-08:00

Our 2nd Anniversary- Tickle the Stars

2009-12-20T22:28:00.000-08:00

Our lives have taken many turns in the last year. Nothing exemplifies those changes more dramatically than altitude. On September 15, 2008, we were in divemaster training, living in an oceanside 'love shack' and comfortably suspended 100 feet below the surface in the crystal clear waters of Roatan. One year later, we trekked through the Himalayan mountains to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC), 4130 meters above sea level and seemingly close enough to tickle the stars.

The change in atmosphere is a good metaphor for our lives. In Roatan, we were grounded to one location, and pursuing knowledge and technique to get certified by PADI to be divemasters. We had instructors and mentors, and were tested mentally and physically on a regular basis as part of a program for certification. In the Himalayas, our guide (Yagya "no car, no keys" Karki) wasn't certified in anything other than common sense and good humor. He knew the mountains because he was from the mountains, literally a product of the mountains. Our experience in the Himalayas was not shaped by books or written exams, but by learning rudimentary nepalese expressions, listening to our strained bodies (Yagya's favorite line- "rest is best"), and testing the limits of our endurance. In Roatan, we floated effortlessly and controlled our breathing to maximize 'down time'. In Annapurna Sanctuary, we drudged up and down seemingly neverending paths for 6 to 8 hours a day and had to gasp for air on the steep climbs due to the thin air and relentless stairs. Riding the currents along the West End Wall (a world-class dive site on Roatan), we encountered a myriad of sea life, an array of colorful coral, and an unmatched dramatic underwater topography. Trekking through the clouds to ABC was an act of will to moderate your breathing and provide enough oxygen to your limbs to keep from getting altitude sickness, and the payoff was a night sky so brilliant and bright that it took your breath away...which can be dangerous at that altitude.

Roatan was our first venture away from the life we had known in California. We had suspended our careers and put all our 'things' into storage to pursue a hobby, be beach bums and become hardcore divers. It was a change from our routine, to be sure, but we quickly developed new routines for our 10 weeks on the island. We made friends, and put down roots in a way. It was home away from home- comfortable and easy and stable (sort of).

Nepal was anything but easy and stable. By then, we were vagabonds who toured 14 european countries over 4 months, and then flew to China for three weeks before landing in Nepal. It was hard to keep track of our time zone and the currency exchange rate. We became accustomed to feeling uncomfortable with our surroundings, and to rely on each other to figure out when, where, how and why for each locale. On the Nepal trek, our lives became simple again. Follow Yagya that was our job. He guided us through luscious valleys of rice fields. We trusted Yagya, just as we trusted each other. The trekking was strenous, but each night when we reached our Teahouse and checked into our rustic, spartan room we felt like world-beaters, indominable. While Cat showered off the days sweat, Yagya and I had our daily beers. It was a simple daily formula, and through it all we climbed, and climbed, and climbed.

Not wanting to have us get altitude sickness, Yagya had us stop for an extra long lunch before trekking the final leg to ABC ("rest is best," he'd say with a knowing smile). We hiked through the fog and cloud cover and at last came to the ABC signpost. It looked like a mirage in the fog but got clearer as we neared. The day was September 15, 2009-our 2nd anniversary and we were 13,550 feet above sea level. It was exhilerating!!! After checking in, we washed up and put on more layers of clothing. As the sun fell, so did the temperature. We joined all the other trekkers in the restaurant and ordered hot food and hot tea (kalo chia). As the other patrons finished their meals, and said their goodnights, we played cards and enjoyed the foot heater the owner had put under the table. Cat, in her puffy coat, was particularly reticent to leave the dining hall, which was good because I had a couple of surprises for her.

With only Yagya and a few other guides still in attendance, I unveiled my anniversary plan. First, I had secretly purchased a panoramic postcard of ABC and had written a private note to her. I had Yagya write 'happy anniversary' in nepalese and he signed the card as well. Tears welled up in Cat's eyes as she read the card and I stole a knowing glance at Yagya acknowledging his help. Second, I poured brandy for us and the guides to toast our 2 years of married life. The guides, other than Yagya, were all married with children and they chuckled at the silly Americans making a big deal out of 2 years. Our favorite marital expression is counting down our projected 50 years together (if we live that long). So, we toasted 'just 48 more years to go' and washed back the cold with a swig of Brandy. Lastly, I asked Cat for a dance. She looked at me puzzled, but was game for it so long as we didn't venture too far from the heater. I went into the kitchen and returned with our iPod and two headsets (we have a splitter). In the teahouse nestled below a ring of 25,000 foot snow capped peaks we danced to our wedding song Dance me to the end of love by Madeline Peyroux in the company of 4 sherpas and the smiling cook. Later in our room, we snuggled under two quilts and listened to love songs on our iPod and talked of how far we'd traveled in a year, what we'd seen, our favorite moments and reveled in the moment of our 2nd anniversary.

In the middle of the night, I had to go to the bathroon (too much tea and brandy apparently). After peeing in a hole in the dark, I emerged from the outhouse and looked up for the first time. The clouds had cleared and the 3 a.m. sky was brilliant with stars. It was a different night sky than any I had ever seen. For a few minutes, the cold disappeared and I found myself walking in the clearing, away from the teahouse, slowly turning to take in a 360 degree view of the most stars this side of the earth's atmosphere. I was stunned. Then, the cold wind reminded me to return to my wife, and I did so happily - joyful to have Cat in my life, and content beyond my imagination.

"Just 48 more years to go..."

Vietnam Biking - Cat's Downhill

2009-12-20T17:15:00.000-08:00

This ones for you Kenny!

2009-10-09T03:54:00.000-07:00

Montenegro to Finland

2009-08-10T09:27:00.000-07:00

The last time I wrote we were on a night train from Istanbul to Montenegro. We had been warned about the delays at the border crossings and amount of patience needed to travel via train. We second that warning. We had paid for a ticket all the way to Bucharest with one ‘lay over’ in Sofia, Bulgaria. The border crossings actually went pretty smooth for us. The ‘lay over’ became a ‘laid out’ after we got knocked around because apparently the train peeps in Sofia do not honor the ticket we bought in Istanbul for Bucharest. Sure, we could get to Bucharest but would have to pay them more money...not happenin for these super heroes…that’s beer/food money. We picked ourselves up and found an alternative route to our destination in Montenegro via bus that would actually take us a more direct route and for less money…saweet!!! Not that the punches didn’t keep comings. One leg of the bus route was stopped because of a truck/car accident on a two lane road…we were still on our feet though and caught our connecting bus despite the delay. In the wee hours of the morning, we were directed onto yet another bus to be informed we owed money for our backpacks so they would watch them for us…huh?!?!?!?! It is way too early, we were way too tired and stinky to throw down more money for bags we were hauling around and ‘watching’…check please. The hot tip thrown our way via the bus attendant, “Welcome to the Balkans this is how we do it here.” Niiice. And tomorrow is a new day!-smile.

Luck is a lady and she graced us with a wonderful place to stay in Kotor, Montenegro. We headed this direction on a referral from a fellow traveler and send blessings to that traveler for the tip. Kotor is a fairy tale of a place with a fabulous farmers market with cheese I still dream about. I was not joking when I told the cheese man I was coming back to work on their family farm and learn how to make cheese…and olive oil, chorizo, custards…the list is long and yummy thanks to the Europeans. Matt and I showered after settling into our room in a 17th century mansion and went for a walk. Kotor was built on a fjord and what we learned later and would recommend when one visits is to rent a boat or car and go exploring all of the villages around the lake. There are lots of little nooks and crannies for people to poke their noses into and explore. We settled on hiking to the top and checking out St Ivan's Fortress. The views are worth every single one of the bazillion steps it takes to get there. Fun bit of info about Montenegro: it had the second tallest people on the planet at one time(behind the Swahili of Africa). I fit in just fine, but Matt looked like a Montenegrin mini-me.

The next day we headed for Dubrovnik, Croatia via bus. When on this bus be sure to set on the side of the driver…great views of the lake and surrounding villages if you did not rent a boat or car. Dubrovnik was again a fairy tale of a place and Matt and I decided this was the perfect place to lick our travel worn wounds and stay for a bit. We found a great hostel (h ttp://www.begovic-boarding-house.com/) and were so grateful to chill in the waters of Croatia. We recommend taking a ferry out to Lopud Island for a day and sunny yourself like a lizard on the rocks. On the island they have a fascinating botanical garden which survived 50 hits during the bombing in 1991. It is not your typical tropical lush botanical garden but a garden which contains plant species which are being monitored and studied to see how they thrive/or not in the present climate they are in. There is also a PKK beach on the island. Peak Kause you Kan refers to nuding up or as we were schooled one night in Helsinki being a naturalist. There are fascinating views (get your mind outta the gutter they are not of the naturalist-smile) from the island of old town Dubrovnik. Perhaps the BEST view though is from Cold Drink in old town. Get lost in the city and find your oasis…Godspeed my friend! We loved Dubrovnik and added it to our list of places we will return to someday…that and Korcula which was our next stop.

Korcula is known for its olive oil (love the place already), dessert wine, Marco Polo and, in our book, yummy pizza (http://www.korculainfo.com/restaurants/pizzeria-tedeschi.html). We lucked out again with a wonderful place to stay with a local family who converted part of their 600 year old house into a guest house. Their daughter is the one who owns the yummy pizza joint (Kurt’s is still our favorite though…miss ya Dooley!). We took a bus out to Lumbarda for the day and found a little spot to bake and get wet. Not before walking through fields of sun drenched grapes, raspberries and olive trees though. We could just imagine how beautiful this area must be during harvest. Matt got lost one day on a ferry while we were still in Dubrovnik and was told of the great and enchanting hiking to be done on some of the islands. The tale was told with goose bumps and as we were traveling via ferry through the Croatian islands we believe. From Croatia we made our way to Prague via train and airplane overnighting in Berlin…weee!!!

In Prague we were graced to meet Ray and be initiated into our first couch surfing experience (http://www.couchsurfing.org/chsurfing.org/). Matt had traveled to Prague twenty years ago (just after the fall of Communism) and it was interesting to hear Ray and him compare the Prague past with the Prague present. It has had quite a face lift and is filled with all sorts of wonder – like beer gardens with incredible views, black light Beatles musicals, super long stairway to heavenesque subway escalators, get outta town drop dead amazing architecture and…killer ribs and hot wings! (courtesy of Ray and his skinny on all the good places to eat in Prague).

Prague led us to Russia and seeing red and having vertigo because we did not know how to read any of the signs and hospitality and helpfulness is not high up on the tourism boards list of desired qualities in their staff. Matt’s likable, warm personality barely put a dent in the perma frost of the employees at the hostels we stayed in. Sure, they have all been through some shit historically but so have the Irish and they were the friendliest people you could ever meet. As my uncle noted, “perhaps it’s because they do not have any good beer.” We’ll go with that-smile. What they do have is stunning architecture, beautiful countryside, the Hermitage (you need at least a week alone to fully appreciate this amazing museum) and Madonna! Yep, we managed to scalp two front area tickets to Madonna’s Sticky and Sweet concert in Palace Square in St Petersburg. Madge put on an amazing concert and song lyrics such as ‘come together from every nation’ took on a whole new meaning for us. It was awesome and the perfect finale to our travels in Russia.

We have been in Finland for four days and are grateful for the smiles, saunas and peacefulness of this beautiful country. Well, that and their smoked salmon, cheap but good beers and wide variety of hard cider-smile. Next stop…Hong Kong…whoa Nelly!!!

Images from Turkey

2009-07-18T04:11:00.001-07:00

Turkey Tales

2009-07-18T03:53:00.000-07:00

The word from travel agents and guide books is that the bus system in Turkey is top notch. They go everywhere, cheap, and rather fast. That’s what we heard.

It seemed too good to be true, and alas it was….sorta. What they don’t explain in the books or at the travel agencies is HOW to ride the bus. The Turks are an open, hospitable, savvy culture that also has an edge of sinister. Our first taste of Turkey bus protocol happened when we were going from Kusadasi to Pamukkale. We were the first ones on the bus, and have a fair amount of hand luggage, so I took the front seat to myself, and Cat occupied a double seat in row 2. That was fine until we got to the next bus stop. A family boarded, and took seats behind us. The woman talked animatedly to the driver in Turkish, and got approving nods from her family and other riders. At our next stop, the driver asked me to move, and join seats with Cat, which I complied with because, well, he’s the driver. The old woman promptly took my front row seat (with extra leg room), and I piled in next to Cat. As we rode along, I got more and more indignant and angry, and hoped that every over weight, smelly new passenger would sit next to the old lady that had bilked me out of my seat. After a couple of hours, she did have to share a seat, but by then I had lost feeling in my toes, and was miserable.

Lesson #1 – there are no innocent old ladies in Turkey. They are all undercover agents for the Turkish secret service.

Our next bus ride was an overnight (painful) ride from Pamukkale to Cappadocia. We had assigned seats, so we thought we had to stay put. But, as the night carried on, there was a game of musical chairs played at every bus station. Every three hours, the bus stopped at a new station, some people got off, and others boarded. We were crammed into our assigned seats while all the Turks were lounging across the isle, or in the “penthouse” back seat row for a fully horizontal sleeping experience. When we exited the bus in Cappadocia, we were haggard and needed chiropractic attention (stat) while the Turks emerged sprite and chipper.

Lesson #2 – if you see an open seat, snag it.

Having learned a few lessons going East in Turkey, we applied our knowledge to the ride West, back to Istanbul. We arrived an hour early for our bus, and went to the bus company desk to check our gate number. Cat reminded me to also try to change our assigned seats, and get the “penthouse”, which I successfully did without a problem. We sprawled out in the back row like the Sultan (Sulteo??) and the Queen. But, the driver and his assistant (eg. flight attendant) were evidently pissed that two strangers had the back seat. So, they repeatedly came to the back and told us to sit up and cram together. We complied for a few minutes, then promptly sprawled, just like we had been taught by the locals. When darkness settled in, the assistant, motioned to the driver, and asked us to move up a row, and let a Turkish gentleman have the penthouse. Cat dug in like it was the battle of the bulge. She pulled out our tickets, and ranted that these were our assigned seats and we weren’t moving for anybody. After about 5 minutes of Turkey and English verbal sparing where everybody was talking and nobody understood a word, the assistant gave up the chase, and waved his hands at us in disgust. “Keep your damn seats”, he motioned. Later on the assistant plops down in the seats in front of Matt and begins to strike up a friendship. Truce had clearly been called on the seat war and peace began. Awhile had passed and at one point the daily ritual of playing cards began. Cheering, knee slapping and such was taking place among the three of us when we received our final blessing. Mehmet, the assistant now turned travel comrade, leaves only to return with a bottle of vanilla scented spray. Smiling broadly he begins to douse Matt and I and the whole back area otherwise known as the penthouse with this spray. Nothing like the honesty of a true friend...we stunk and thanks to Mehmet we were now vanilla fresh inside and out.

Lesson #3 – get assigned seats in the penthouse, and never give ‘em up no matter what the driver says or wants.

Montenegro or bust!!!

2009-07-15T09:23:00.000-07:00

Our exploration of Turkey has left Matt and I breathless at moments. The landscape of Turkey is awe inspiring. Matt is writing in more details and we will post in two days.

In about an hour we are boarding our first overnight train to Belgrade with plans to land in Kotor, Montenegro in a day or two. We have been told the trains are slow (hence the time delay for Matt's blog entry) but worth the trip due to the landscape one travels through while riding.

I would like to start including places we recommend and do not recommend on our blog.

Recommend:

In Pamukale: Artemis Yoruk Hotel- Ann and Adam went above and beyond in accommodating our needs and always had smiles on their faces. Thanks to all of the staff there for a wonderful stay! http://www.artemisyorukhotel.com/

In Goreme (Cappadocia): Yellow Roses Panoramic Cave Hotel and Hostel- The host was absolutely over and above helpful in all aspects of travel planning and tour excursions. We felt so taken care of. The view was incredible and we were able to spend the night in a fairey chimney room for a very resonable rate. I did not find a direction website but wanted to include some way of being able to get ahold of the hotel/hostel. http://www.hostels.com/hostels/goreme/yellow-roses---panoramic-cave-hotel/21051

Cafe Safrak- This is a delicious restaurant you will find on your way to the Open Museum. The meatballs were one of our favorite meals while in Turkey...delicious.

Cappadocia Voyager Balloons- http://www.voyagerballoons.com/ There are several balloon companies being this is a huge draw in this area. We thoroughly enjoyed our balloon captain, the champagne toast and certificates of completions post fly. This trip was a splurge and one that we would splurge on over and over again. Definitely worth it...fly!!! :-)

Amazing Hike-walk past the Open Area Museum up the hill and pass Kaya Campground. There is a dirt road on the left. The road splits into three, take the middle lane. You will walk between grape vine fields and come to a wooden sign which is not very readable due to its age. Take a left done the hill and into the valley. You will come upon a dirt road. Go left. A little bit down the road you will see a dirt path. Get off the dirt road and follow this path. You will go through some good sized tunnels and even come upon a tea oasis. Take a break and enjoy some tea.After walking a bit you will see a path on your right. We thought this was Red/Rose Valley. It was not but was wonderful to wander around through. We back tracked and eventually found Red/Rose Valley and ended up with a stellar view from a church on top of the hill. This was about a four hour hike and was awesome taken around sunset. It ended up with us catching a ride with a gipsy who was teaching his daughter how to drive a horse and cart. Awesome. Our host at the Panoramic Hotel/Hostel was the one who directed us to take this tour.

Malayta (Mt Nemrut): The overnight tour which is arranged with Kemal at the tourist information center in the middle of town (near the kiddie park with the rides) is worth it. Spending sunset and sunrise near the top of the mountain and hanging out with the entertaining host of the hotel located there is priceless.

Istanbul: Mehmet at the Lamp Guesthouse became a friend. We enjoyed sitting in the lobby and laughing with him. As an added bonus the views from the top terrace are amazing and two of the rooms have an incredible view of the blue mosque...amazing. http://www.lampguesthouse.com/

New Start...Again :-)

2009-07-15T08:46:00.000-07:00

It is hard to blog. I find it difficult to put in words our experiences. I do not know what to write and because of this do not write at all. As of today, I am renewing my commitment to blog and share our experiences…good, bad and everything in between.

Here we go…smile. To date we have been to Spain, Portugal, Ireland, Wales, UK, Italy, Egypt, Israel and Greece.

Spain and Portugal helped me further understand the inspiration of paintings and the draw natural beauty speaks to artist old and new. I was constantly overwhelmed with the natural light on a flower, brick or the lingering of a cloud. What I want to convene is the authentic beauty to be found in every little detail of these countries. I found myself envious of Spaniards and Portuguese. These countries need to be experienced at least once in a lifetime by everyone. I am on a mission to live and be a part of these countries and their cultures in the future.

Spain recommendations: Rent a car and drive. Be prepared to get completely lost driving through cobblestone streets, scratch the rental and possibly loose a side mirror. The freedom is worth every bit and more…drive. Take naps and be prepared to stay up late and eat dinner at midnight. Walk and walk some more. Toledo, Grenada, Madrid, San Sebastian and Bilbao. Become a sangria, olive and pinxtos connoisseur. Go to the mercados and stock up on pig, cheese and all the other goodies hidden within these treasures. Get lost driving along the northern coast of Spain.

I love the blue light in Lisboa! We did not get to spend much time in Portugal but loved every minute that we did. We stayed outside of Lisboa in Sintra. Sintra was the summer residence for royalty and the wealthy…lucky devils! It is nestled in the hillside and the last stop for the subway/light rail system to Lisboa. Perfect location to explore and catch our breath. Before that we caught a couple beach days in the Algarve Coast. Look for zimmers in residential homes when traveling through the Algarve Coast.

Ireland is as green as they say and the natural beauty of this country is also stunning and inspirational. What I will always remember most from Ireland is the giant bear hug I received every time someone spoke. It is not just the Irish accent I write about. It is the deep down sincerity and kindness attached to each syllable that left me absolutely in love with the Irish and this country.

Ireland recommendations: Look left and be ready to get cozy with the sheep while driving. Listen to local radio stations. Stock up on Guinness and Bulmer’s at the local supermarkets. Go to the English Market in Cork and buy the tzikiti…hands down the best in the world…Greece was not even able to hold a torch. Spend some time in the Ring of Kerry. Spend some time in Doolin soaking up the local music. Sunset at the Cliffs of Moher. Galway and Dublin. Go to the Chester Beatty Library in Dublin. Tours in Ireland are awesome. The tour guides have a wicked sense of humor and know their history…plus it is often included in the cost of the entrance fee...worthy. Go to the jail…very humbling…the Irish have been through some shit! Beans with breakfast, eggs that blow your mind and rocket salad.

The ferry from Dublin to Liverpool is a great option. I am not into cold weather at all and yet there were parts of Wales and London that made me a believer. Listen to local radio stations…the commentary was priceless. Rent a car and drive through Wales and end up at the Long Barn for a good nights sleep with the sheep. Hunt out and spend the night in one of the amazing five story houses in Bath. Circuses and I am not referring to the ones with cotton candy and tight rope walkers. Jane Austen. Walk your booty off in London and eat Indian food. Be the change you want to see in the world-Gandhi. Walk to Abbey Road even if you are not a Beatles fan…walk, walk, walk London. Return the Elgin marbles to Athens.

We did not get to see a lot of Italy because we were ramping up and then on the cruise. Rome is architecturally mind blowing. The Vatican Museum needs to regulate how many people they allow in their museum at one time. Regardless of feeling like I was wearing a bell around my neck heading toward the barn to be milked, I caught massive amounts of flies because my mouth was hanging on the floor from the beauty of the Sistine Chapel and surrounding works of art. On several occasions I found myself missing the Irish due to the Italian communication style. It is such a beautiful language to listen to however the attitude took a bit of getting use to. I was just getting the hang of it and then we left. I’ll be back. We visited Pompeii and I was so humbled by the innovation and genius of the past.

Egypt is dirty!!! The air stings your lungs from the moment you step outside. The automobiles have a language all their own and at first it seems everything exist at a near death breaking speed. It is a challenge and from the start left me with little desire to visit again. The visit leaves you washing your hands free and eager to be done. And yet I will go back. In the end, I am enchanted with Cairo and Egypt. Life is in your face and the city and county give you glimpses of their complex personalities which I do not want to ignore. It is a violation and abuse of every single sense in a human body. The country is full of friendly masochist and you just want to get to know them more.

Israel is shockingly clean after experiencing Egypt. There are road signs in three different languages and destinations are so well marked it would be a true challenge to get lost in the country…it also is rather tiny though-smile. We stayed in the Old Town in Jerusalem and did not get much sleep. Who needs sleep though?!?!? Smile. Worship can be heard 24/7. Our hostel had a killer roof top deck and I will always carry sunset and overlooking Jerusalem in my soul. Old Town is minute in size with so many different religions represented within its walls.

The best part of Italy, Egypt and Israel though was traveling with our families. Matt’s parents celebrated their 50th anniversary with this cruise. Aunt Pam and my mom also joined the celebration. The cruise had a mishap and the engine caught fire outside of Port Said. The damage was extensive enough to cancel the rest of the cruise. Matt’s parents and Aunt Pam went home, while my mom stayed with us and we made it to Athens (original end of cruise) on our own. I cherish any opportunity to spend time with Matt’s parents and am convinced Aunt Pam is one of the most amazing people on this planet and am blessed to know her. I am so proud of my mom. We really put her through the paces with a rigorous schedule. There were some dicey moments and she was a champ.

In Athens we met up with the McCormick’s and began our travels through the Greek Islands. Michael and Matt both have their stories of pirating through the Greek Islands many years ago. Carolyn and I have seen enticing pictures and heard incredible stories. And so the pirates and the virgins headed off to Santorini to explore. I was reminded of how deceiving a picture can be. There is a stark beauty to the Islands. There also is the reminder of what overpopulation and tourism if not handled properly can do to our natural resources. I loved hearing Michael and Matt’s stories of what the islands were like when they were there many years ago. I was saddened at the state they are in now. Trash floating around in the Mediterranean is not my idea of beauty. Stupid humans. Visiting the ruins of Delos is a must. Renting a scooter and having fish soup at Markos Fish Taverna at Kelafitis Beach on Mykonos Island is a must. Sitting down for a meal at Nickolas in Fira on Santorini/Thira is a must also. Find the Meat Deli in Mykonos town and purchase Louza…yummy!!! Try the Kopinisti cheese of Mykonos but avoid the Marzipan dessert.

Last night Matt and I said goodbye to the McCormick’s and are so grateful for the time we spent with them and their friendship. The past month will linger with us for some time and feed our homesickness. We miss our friends and family a great deal. It may not get noted often enough but we love, miss and think of all of you often. Thank you!

Tomorrow we head to Turkey via ferry. The ferry systems throughout the Greek Islands have been great and pretty easy to navigate. We plan to spend a night in Kusadasi and visit Ephesus and then head toward Cappadocia and the fairy chimney villages. We plan on stopping by Pamukkale to hang out in the thermal pools and check out the white ledges.
More soon!

Portugal-Algarve Coast, Lisboa, Sintra

2009-07-15T07:29:00.001-07:00

The plan was to drive and see some of the Portugal coast, which was reportedly quite beautiful, and explore Lisbon and maybe Porto. When we crossed the border at 130 km/hour, we almost missed a vital first step. There was a “tourismo informacion” office tucked away near a truck stop. I didn’t see it until it was almost too late, and even then had to do a Rockford Files turn to avoid missing it.

At the desk, we inquired about beaches. “What’s your best beach, and where would you highly recommend going?” The female guide didn’t hesitate, “I think you should go to....” and she circled a few beaches areas on the map. In the lobby, there was a 6-foot tall picture of this amazing cliffside beach, so I asked, “what about this place.” She replied, “Si, that is Sao Rafael, and it is this place.” A circle she had already made on the map. After 10 days in various dense cities, it was Surf’s Up!!!!

We toured West along the Southern coast of Portugal, driving through numerous quaint farming towns. It was OK, but not spectacular. We had faith, but were underwhelmed. Then, we finally saw signs for Sao Rafael, and weaved our way to the coast. When we parked and got out, it was like curling up in your own bed after a long flight. The ocean breeze was warm, and wafted with a salty sweet taffy scent. We walked to the cliffs and peered down. It was one of the most beautiful beaches we have ever seen. The water was green, blue, and dark blue as it moved away from shore. The sand looked warm and inviting, and did not have a spec of trash or debris despite the pods of people. Huge boulders framed the edges of the beach, with several natural bridges for effect. Cat summed it up for us, “We need an entire beach day here.”

Our “loose” plan (we don’t really have any tight plans outside of our flight schedule, and even that is flexible on dates) was to stop for a picnic dinner, and then make our way to Lisbon for the night. But, a beach day at Sao Rafael had to be done. We had not asked about lodging, so we had to wing it…..again. The nearest town was Armacao de Pera, and we tried a few hotels and pensions, and even inquired about a bungalow in a nearby campground.

[Future note: The campground closest to the river, tributary, and beach in Armacao de Pera has family-sized bungalows for 47 euros. There is a pool, walking trails to the beach, bike trails all over the place, and they are charming and clean.]

We didn’t find anything we liked and were getting frustrated and tired of driving around aimlessly. But, aimless sometimes takes you exactly where you belong. We took a wrong turn, and drove past a old country house that had a sign up for “quartos, zimmer”. We stopped, and were greeted at the driveway gate by Maria, the sweetest of old ladies. She smiled, and pointed for me to follow her up to the room she had for travelers. She led me upstairs and down the hallway to the corner room, and opened the door on the most charming abode, complete with antique furniture, chandelier, and large balcony overlooking the small orchard and vineyard. It was perfect. We opened a bottle of wine, and toasted our good fortune. The sun was setting and glowed a soft apricot color. Maria had put a basket of fresh tangerines on our dresser, and we savored the sweet juices of unexpected joy.

Beach Day was awesome. We stopped in town for café con leche, and spent an hour on the internet. Armacao de Pena has a 2-mile long beach, so we walked it out and back for our morning exercise. Fisherman had dragged their boats up on the beach, and were cleaning out their nets. Evidently, it’s large blue squid season, because the nets were bulging with them. The morning breeze was cool, but the sand was warm, and we quickly shed our long-sleeve fleece shirts, and walked and talked the morning away.

By early afternoon, we were camped out in the sand at Sao Rafael. I dug a hole to make a reading chair, and Cat sprawled on her sarong. We took quick dips in the cold, clear Atlantic surf, and battled in card games of crazy-eights. Before we knew it, it was 5pm, and time to go. We were headed for the big city, Lisbon, and wanted to get there before dark.

We were ahead of schedule before we hit traffic at the bridge. I was cursing and full of rage. Cat was calm and determined. She had a plan. She had read about Sintra, a suburb of Lisbom where the royals and wealthy of ancient Portugal had gone to summer. It was a cross between the Hamptons, Carmel, Camp David, and Marseilles. But, I was in road-rage, and bitching about every KM we drove away from Lisbon. “Why are we staying way the hell out here when I want to see Lisbon?” Cat patiently and emphatically stood by her plan, “it’s supposed to be very cool, and we can take the train into Lisbon.” Skepticism poured from my steaming ears. She better be right.

She was. We stayed in a cute pension near the train station (parking included – bonus!!), and caught the morning train into Lisbon. The sun was shining, and Lisbon was in full bloom. The tourismo informacion was a short walk from the station, in the heart of the city, and the guide circled several key spots of interest. After a quick stop for café con leche, we made our way to the top of the city – Castillo Sao Jorge. What a magnificent view!!.....of the bridge, of Cristo Rei, of the bay, of old town, of the basilica, of, of of. We walked the central quarter and then took the bus to Belem quarter.

Cat and her little guide book. She had read about some pastry shop that had been making world-famous mini custard cream pies. Having bypassed lunch for the sake of touring the city, we were famished, and Cat was not to be denied. We were finding that damn pastelleria!!! It was near the palace, that’s what the guide book said. So, we asked a policeman near the palace. Our broken, choppy spanglish was interpreted by the Portuguese cop, and he pointed down the street. The guide book said it was on the corner, so we went to a shop on the corner. They had pastries, and Cat ordered. We split the first one. It was OK. We were both hungry, and would have eaten the ass out of a camel, so we did not complain about the pastry. Still, it was only OK. Cat ordered a couple more pastries in the hope for better results, and they were equally blasé. Well, the guide book can’t be spot-on every time, we thought.

We left the pastry shop, and headed towards another monument along the water. On the corner of the next block, I mentioned to Cat, “there’s another pastry place. Are you sure this isn’t the one we were looking for?” She replied, “It might be. It’s worth a look.” Sure as cookie dough rises, this was the famous pastry shop. Our bellies semi-full with crappy pastries, we still HAD TO have the famous custard cream pie. OMG!! Now, THAT was a dessert!!! It was slightly warm, perfectly caramelized on top, with a fluffy thin crust. It literally melts in your mouth. Yum!!

We left the shop riding a sugar high that could power Manhattan. After seeing a monument to the explorer-prince Henrique, we took the tram back to cuidad central, and into the middle of a parade. It was the 50th anniversary of Cristo Dei, and there was a huge celebration with over 500,000 people in Lisbon to mark the occasion. It wasn’t a standard marching band and motorized floats type of parade, however. This parade belonged in Burning Man, with a touch of Bay-to-Breakers playfulness. The costumes were outrageous, and mixed bestiality, religious motifs, farm tools, cow bells, and platform clogs to create a bizarre effect. At one point, a devilish creature drew photographer Cat into the procession, and surrounded her with a pack of cow-skeleton who gyrated around her until she accepted a shot of wine from the “sacred” (??) boda bag. Cat emerge laughing, red with embarrassment and smudges of satan’s make-up.

It was a random day of fun, beauty, and Portuguese culture. We took the night train back to Sintra vowing a Lisbon return visit.

Sintra is a hamlet, high atop the coastal hills overlooking the Atlantic. By day, every direction you look is a unique ancient mansion, villa, house, park or sculpture. We want to buy a B&B there someday. It is so beautiful and interesting. We had many potential day plans, but opted for the main sight of the town – Palacio Pena. The Palacio was the summer home of the royals, and it is amazing. Situated at the top of the hill, we hiked through a maze of walking trails, each with numerous little hideaway benches carved out of stone, and found lush gardens that integrated into the hillside. There were numerous monuments (the cross (cruz), the Giant, the small bird fountain, friars cave) high atop granite rock outlooks and tucked away in the landscape. Stone paths and stairways invite exploration and ooze history.

As one would suspect, the palacio was magnificent. What was particularly interesting is that the tour allowed the visitor to see the living quarters up-close and in a somewhat realistic fashion. It was not a typical museum, or at least it didn’t feel like one. We highly recommend people visit Sintra for a few day, and definitely take a full day to visit the palacio.

Our partial Portugal tour concluded with a quick stop at the pilgrimage capital of Fatima. We saw the cathedral, attended part of mass from afar, and shared an ice cream cone to mark the occasion. After Fatima, we drove out of Portugal with a vow to return – to spend more time at the Southern beaches, to soak up more of Lisbon, and to explore the Azores. Next time…….

Touching base

2009-05-15T00:50:00.000-07:00

Our approach to traveling has been to basically get in the car, plane, train and go. The night before we were sharing bunks in a hostal. Last night was the best nights sleep we both have had in awhile. We happened upon a wonderful couple renting out a room. Heaven! :-)
We crossed the border into Portugal yesterday and are planning to spend the day on the beach.
Matt is churning up another story for the blog and I plan on posting more pics soon.
Just briefly touching base here :-)
Gotta scoot!
Ciao

Our Images

2009-05-06T13:27:00.000-07:00

We are trying out a new web hosting site for our images.
The link to the site is on the right. Once you click on the
click, go to Photo Gallery and then click on the folder to view the images.

We would appreciate your feedback. We are still playing around
with this site and trying to find the best way to show everyone
pics of our trip on the blog.

Cheers! :-)

Out of the Shadows

2009-05-06T11:41:00.000-07:00

….and into the light.

We went to the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza today, and saw the “Shadows” exhibit. The premise of the exhibit was to bring to our attention the host of implications, problems, and solution inherent in the representation of the shadow in art from the Renaissance to the present day. For us, in various ways, the shadow is an analogy for our recent past, inspiring present, and unknown future.

The shadow of cancer has consumed our lives since we first learned of Barbara’s diagnosis after visiting the Thompon’s and Blais’ for New Years. There were more questions than answers, and it was a dark time of speculation and ramifications. As the treatments progressed, the dark shadow began to change, and eventually a clean PET scan turned the shadow a pale blue of hope. The shadow of illness still exists for Barb, as it does for us all, but the shadow has turned from formidable and frightening to acknowledged and respected.

From January to May, the shadow of our delayed trip has changed us in unpredictable ways. We returned from Central America changed people, and the return to our homes did not provide us with the same comfort, the same content as in the past. We had tasted a different life, new cultures, foreign languages, new challenges, and were transformed by the experience. We have been uneasy and restless these past few months knowing that we could and should restart the world tour, if only when.

To our friends and family, we were transient, transplanted visitors - shadows that came and went with the sound of rolling suitcases, air mattress pumps, sofa bed squeaks and ill-timed entries and exits. We wanted to visit more often and for longer, but the next house, the next relationship required attention. We felt hollow and fleeting, and our hosts must have felt frustrated or unfulfilled. Alas, a shadow is never what we want it to be. It just is.

Here in Madrid, we walk among the Spaniards, and beside them as they shop for groceries, have a morning coffee, conduct business on their cell phones, and raise their families. We are shadows in their lives because we want to learn what it means to live as a Spaniard, if only for a short time. We move freely and faceless through the streets of Madrid, here in the moment but just outside reality.

We are so happy to be back together, and sharing this experience. Our lives are expanded and amplified by the joys and wonder that we see in each other as we venture through the unknown. We are each other’s shadow, and as the impressionists perfected, shadows can be represented through all the colors of the universe, depending how we choose to experience the world.

Vivir la vida buena.
(live the good life)

From Mother Teresa

2009-04-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

Life is an opportunity,
benefit from it.

Life is a beauty,
admire it.

Life is bliss,
taste it.

Life is a dream,
realize it.

Life is a challenge,
meet it.

Life is a duty,
complete it.

Life is a game,
play it.

Life is costly,
care for it.

Life is wealth,
keep it.

Life is love,
enjoy it.

Life is mystery,
know it.

Life is a promise,
fulfill it.

Life is sorrow,
overcome it.

Life is a song,
sing it.

Life is a struggle,
accept it.

Life is a tragedy,
confront it.

Life is an adventure,
dare it.

Life is luck,
make it.

Life is too precious,
do not destroy it.

Life is life,
fight for it.

Election HQ - Costa Rica

2008-11-06T17:15:00.000-08:00

We arrived in Costa Rica on Sunday November 2nd to connect with Kurt and Linda as they flew into San Jose. The rendezvous went just as planned, and we had a fun road trip down the Pacific coast to their tiny surf-town hamlet of Esterillos.

Our second night in Esterillos was one to remember. Kurt has been an outspoken proponent of a change from the incumbent, (incredibly) incompetent Republican leadership in the Executive Branch. Linda is less vocal, and more eloquent and moderate in her beliefs, but she too was primed for a historic election night. So, they threw a party.

Tyler and Taylor were house sitting while Kurt and Linda were in the states voting the week before, so they stayed a couple of extra nights to enjoy the party. They are very interesting people. They are programmers working for US companies, but living in Manuel Antonio Costa Rica. In a couple of months, they are moving to Kona, HI to run a gentleman-coffee-farm (4 acres; tractor, small barn, etc). Finishing out the guest list were Esterillos residents Kurt, Christy and Teana– warm, intellectually nimble, and thoughtful people. They arrived a little late, after the initial electoral votes were being posted on CNN, and before the cocktails started flowing.

It was a decidedly fed up crowd of people. Bush-Cheney bashers, if you will. Nobody had a major problem with McCain, but there were no Palin fans in attendance. As the cocktails flowed, and we bounced between CNN and Fox News, the mood was festive and the political discussion lively. We all were in favor of Obama winning the election, but the opinions stretched well beyond party lines, and to more profound and progressive ideas for solving national problems – financial bailout, Iraq war, healthcare, campaign reform (shortening the election timeline), foreign relations, trade relations, and too many others to list. What struck me as interesting was that the comments were insightful and knowledgeable, AND oh so funny, because everyone had a good sense of humor. It helped that CNN and Fox had some quirky, spotty reporting, the “funnel graph guy”, the “smart guy”, “choke woman”, a fleet of laptops, and a hologram.

The announcement that Obama had won the election sent chills up my spine. For me and Cat, it meant the end to what we think is the most horrendous administration in the history of the US. We defy anyone to find a worse record on practically every major area of the executive branch – economic policy, military policy, legal, corruption, foreign relations, domestic programs, deficit spending, tax policy, privacy, and constitutional law. The Bush Administration has been a train wreck. McCain is a good guy, and would have been a credible president (the jury is waaaay out on Palin…smile), but he was doomed to the Bush-effect from the start. The same is true of many of the GOP senators and congressmen. November 4th was pendulum day.

We can only hope that Obama-Biden Administration does not succumb to regressive ideas, and misuses the Democratic majority to push destructive new programs. Our fingers and toes are crossed, and our political activism is at the ready in the event our new leaders stray from moderate, progressive domestic legislation and foreign policy.

For our part, the ex-pats in Costa Rica were in a festive mood, and the champagne flowed. It was a historic night, and we were happy to see the smartest candidate win……for a change (you can believe in).

Matt’s Political Sidenote: A president has 2-3 years to get things done. After that, the reelection distraction kicks in. With the size and complexity of the US government, it is unrealistic to hope for sweeping changes in all aspects of the Executive Branch in 2-3 years. We live in the immediate/now era, but most people couldn’t fix there own lives in 2-3 years. Why, then, do most Americans expect the largest organization in the world to change in the first 100 days of an administration. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN. It’s physically impossible. I believe that a new president should pick 3-5 things to get done in one administration. Obama’s campaign website has 26+ election platform issues that he will address as President. Some of them are interrelated, of course, so say 13+ issues. I sincerely hope he picks 3-5 pivotal issues to focus on, and gets positive, progressive legislation passed to address the issues, and focuses his 2-3 years of productive time on the IMPLEMENTATION (oversight, in his words) of the legislation. Not a bunch of new bills. A few good bills, and lots of follow-up energy and attention.
The “No Child Left Behind” legislation from the first Bush term was never funded or implemented, so practically every child was left behind. In business, the adage is, “if you focus on something, it will improve.” I hope Obama focuses his administration. Leadership does not mean being all things to all people. It’s about setting direction, and seeing that the direction gets followed.

Expectativas contra Realidad/Experiencia

2008-11-06T16:20:00.000-08:00

(Literal translation: Expectations vs. Reality/Experience)

When we were planning our extended stay in Roatan, Honduras, we developed notions of how it would be, what it would feel like, and how we would adjust to life on the island. With our impending departure from the island looming, we look back on, and compare, our expectations versus reality in a number of topical areas.

Life in the tropics – We expected plenty of sunshine and warmth. When we visited in February, the weather was great, and we loved the humid warmth – 80 to 90 degrees all day, every day. Slightly cooler at night, with a comfortable sea breeze. Our reality has been much the same this time around, with the added experience of enjoying the rainy season. The tropical rain is thick, heavy. The humidity feels like 100 percent. We are soggy and are now use to the reality that we are not going to dry out until we are back in the States in December….in the winter chap of the frozen tundra. It’ll be good-news, bad-news. “Honey, we’re dry now….but I can’t feel my toes.”

Island living – We expected to slow down, get mellow, and “chill”. We wanted to live by the ocean, and swim often. The reality has been that we are on a regimented program that requires 5:30am revelry, 4 miles of walking most days, scuba set-up (eg. bundles) and breakdown, 2-or-more dives, and nightly reading of first aid, physics, physiology, rescue techniques, dive theory and the dive resort industry. On most nights, we returned to our beach bungalow exhausted (and wet, of course), with barely enough energy to make a quick dinner, clean-up the dishes, and take a shower before it was schedule induced bedtime. We’ve had plenty of off days, although not any weekends since travelers/divers tend to arrive on Fri-Sun, and those are the busiest days at the dive shop.

One of the divers we met is named Nick. Nick is on an island sabbatical. He was the manager and lead instructor at West End Divers. But, he got burned out. One night at Oasis (Pool Bar), I asked him why he opted to take some time off. He said, “Because I didn’t come to a tropical island to work 6-7 days a week.” Walking in his shoes for a couple of months, all we can say is, “We hear ya brutha.”

Bugs – We have visited the tropics before. We were certainly prepared for bugs of all shapes and sizes. It’s one thing to be mentally prepared, and it’s another to shower with a cockroach, to kill a red ant the size of a cat, to require emergency first aid for a flood-plane outbreak of mosquito bites, and to wake-up to a kitchen counter that resembles an ant hill. Of all the bugs, the no-see-ums at the dive shop are by far the most annoying.

As we discovered from the Wikipedia of Honduras (the well-informed local cab driver), West Bay Roatan was formerly a swamp. The beach was beautiful, so they developed the area and built resorts right on the swamp. During most of the year, the net-result is rather minor. There are no-see-ums, but they can be managed to acceptable levels. During the rainy season, however, large portions of the West Bay swamp are, well, swamped and the no-see-ums population grows to biblical locust levels. We have countered the onslaught by wearing our Bug-Off safari full-length pants and lathering enough deet to repel the Congo. As of this writing, we are in an uneasy truce with the no-see-ums….until the next major rain storm when they will exponentially breed new legions to wage battle.

Divemaster training – We expected a physical and mental challenge. We dove with Bananrama in February, so we also expected to meet the challenge with fun, interesting people. With the exception of a few days that we got pissy with ourselves for truly SUCKING in our assigned task/skill, the training program has been demanding, tricky, stimulating and the instructors have been terrific. It’s been boot camp in wetsuits. Summer school in shorts. Drills with thrills.

School and learning is a two pronged endeavor. The first part is your interest in the topic. For many reasons, scuba diving is fascinating – marine biology, physics, physiology, mechanics, breathing/meditation, science/technology, equipment/gear, and geography. We have met people from all over the world, and those people have been all over the world diving amazing locations. The stories make us want to hop a plane and just GO. It is all very motivating. The second interesting part of scuba diving is the cross-section of the world population that comes together on dive boats to share in a common interest. We are being trained by two Argentinians, a Brit, and an American carpenter. Our fellow DMTs (divemaster trainees) are from Mexico, Oregon, and Colorado. Our favorite customers have been from Venezuela, Spain, Miami, England, Seattle, New York, and frankly too many other places to list. In short, the people have made the experience truly special. For her part, Cat has even been smitten by all the children in the equation – locals and visitors alike. We hope to stay in touch with some of the unique characters we’ve met. But, time will tell…..as it always does.

Spousal exposure time – We came to Roatan with almost 8 years of history together. During that time, we have always had multiple outside interests and responsibilities that have broken up our time together. We expected a somewhat turbulent transition to being together 100% of the time. The way we figured, there would be nowhere to hide from each other. It was a major concern. What if our relationship crumbled under the weight of over-exposure. The reality has been a revelation. We most certainly have had our fights and arguments. There have been plenty of heated moments as we adjusted to a new environment, diving boot camp, home sickness, learning Spanish, and spending almost every waking hour together. Still, we have grown soooooo much closer to each other. Our tantrums are shorter, our understanding more acute, our anticipation skills more developed, and our intimacy much more profound. We talk A LOT, everyday, all day, and about every topic under the sun. We don’t have TV or the gym or jobs or buddies that take us away from each other. We are stuck with each other, for better and for worse…..till death do us part.

It has most definitely been for the better. We have found new shades of each other. Secrets are often revealed in nuance. Discovery is subtle. We have gained knowledge of each other in the most obscure circumstances, and in unlikely ways. This could be a blog topic all unto itself. It has been, without a doubt, the most compelling part of our sabbatical…..and I think that is a pleasant surprise to both of us.

Health – We expected to be tanned models of fitness with perfect skin, and impervious to all strains of tropical diseases. The reality has been good, but not Fitness Magazine good. Our daily walks and diving regime have been terrific for our fitness and weight. We had expected to be doing yoga 2-3 times per week, and haven’t gone once. Shame on us. It’s been a major disappointment. On the plus side, we have both shed a few pounds, and eaten really healthy. We both got sick once, with a local cold that was going around the dive shop. No big deal. Our biggest health issue has been our skin. Yes, we are more tanned. But, the bug bites are horrendous, and sunscreen is terrible for acne. Add in that we don’t have hot water for showers, and I look like I’m going through puberty-pimples all over again. `

Cat has special face and body soap, so she still looks amazing. Her Achilles heal have been her heals. She had hamburger feet for the first 6 weeks we were in Roatan. She developed blisters from her fins, and then wore her skin down to the bone wearing strapped sandals on our daily 4 mile walks. She tried going barefoot. She tried wearing flip-flops. She tried wearing socks inside her sandals and fins. She spent every night applying medicine and bandages to her hamburger feet. In the end, with the repetitive damage and constant wetness, she endured a marathon of raw feet. She was a trooper through it all, but it was always a real issue for six weeks.

What we would miss from home – To burn time on the morning walk, I try to start a conversation with a question. One day, the question was “what do you miss most from home?” Many answers were typical. We miss our friends and family. We miss our creature comforts. We miss the convenience of cell phones and cars. Some of the answers, however, were unique to our island experience. Cat missed hot showers, our cat (Maddie) and dog (Tinker) and life without bugs. I missed Courtside gym, our king-sized plush bed with fresh sheets, a fully-functioning kitchen, and gardening. In the end, we both mentioned that the little stuff is irrelevant. We miss our family and friends. Bottom line.

Spiritual – We planned to pray together, meditate and go to yoga. We did pray and meditate, but we didn’t do yoga once…..and it was right next door to our beach shack. Still, I think we were grounded and in sync, and enjoyed a wonderful, metaphysical lifestyle in Roatan.

Hardest adjustment – For Cat, it was the cold showers during the rainy season. She did not have fun….but, she was awfully cute yelping and cursing in the shower. For Matt, it was getting stuck at the front desk of the dive shop. I just wasn’t happy unless I was moving around, diving, filling tanks or something, anything other than playing scuba-receptionist.

Easiest adjustment – Due to our commute and dive schedule, we got into a daily routine rhythm almost immediately and seamlessly. We were up by 5:30am, active all day, and usually in bed (passed out) by 9pm. For us, the best time on the island was when the sun was up, so we just followed the sun in our schedule.

Financial roadmap – Our budget for both of us was $100/day, excluding the divemaster program fees. We lived well, travelled all over the island, ate really well, and still were able to stay within our budget. Roatan is the most expensive area of Honduras, but it’s still pretty cheap to live there.

Food – Excellent. We loved Tong’s and The Argentina Grill. We were fortunate to be on the island still when Oasis Lounge opened in Sandy Bay. There are so many reasons we loved this place and near the top of the list was Shannon’s amazing cooking…delicious!!! If you venture to Roatan, go to Oasis. The crew that run Oasis are warm, awesome people. It has an amazing view with a pool and pool bar and an awesome menu. We miss her southwest eggrolls already! We also miss the cookies made with all the sinful goodness possible by Bill’s wife from the Bakery. They sold four of these gifts from god for $2 and made chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin. We cooked at home 3-4 nights a week, and grew to love the produce truck (gracias, Johel) and chasing down the fish truck for camerones and snapper. I even bought mahi mahi and tuna fresh catch from the boat captains. We ate really healthy, with good diversity, and with nature’s own ingredients. Oh, and I almost forgot about the eggs. Chickens run wild all over the island, so the free-range eggs are transcendently good.

Friends/relationships – We were hopeful and optimistic that we would make a few new friends. It’s a lot to expect when only staying on the island for 3 months. The reality is that we were lucky to meet several very fun, interesting, intelligent and open people that we hope will endure the test of time and become long-time friends.

Emotional – Cat was emotionally charged with island fever in the first few weeks. Then, I got emotionally unstable in the middle of the DM program because I wanted a different experience (a custom program, as it were). We both got a bit surly working through our issues, but recovered quickly. At the end of the DM program, Cat got very emotional as the result of stress and exhaustion. But, after she gutted out the final few requirements, she was dancing on cloud-nine. I would classify our emotional state as varied, but overall stable.

Packing List – Because we planned on living in Roatan for three months, we packed pretty heavy. We brought reading books, travel books (for the upcoming world tour research), dive books, dive gear, a medicine kit, camera, video, underwater camera housing, water sterilizer, and various clothes. In short, we packed a boat/butt load. We expected to use and utilize it all, of course, or we wouldn’t have lugged it down here in the first place.

First, here is the stuff that we definitely did NOT need. My 3/2 wetsuit. I wore a wetsuit on a rainy night dive. That’s it. My 3/2 cannot be called a wetsuit because it has been dry since I took it out of the closet in San Jose. Half of our travel books and maps have not been touched. Our next stop is Costa Rica, so we have read a bit of the Central America book. Also, we have used the Costa Rica map extensively. There are many travelers on the island, and we have been sponging information readily. The same is true of the Argentina map. Two scuba instructors (Sofia and Martin) are from Argentina, and we have been combing the country, circling their recommendations.

I have a standing rule when I travel. Never leave home without my running shoes. So, I brought my Nike’s and they have collected dust for 3 months. Roatan is a mountainous, volcanic island, so there are no flat roads, and worse yet, no bike lanes. Running is for hailing cabs, hustling tanks on/off the dive boat, dodging tarantulas, and catching the fish truck before it leaves West End. It is not a relaxing, safe, scenic park activity on Roatan. In this unique case, I should have left home without my running shoes.

Second, here is the stuff we could have done without, and probably should not have packed for this segment of the trip. Cat’s wetsuit is good and warm, but there are ample wetsuits of all shapes and sizes at the dive shop. She wore hers a few times, and liked it, but it has been largely superfluous. I have used the yoga mat several times for sit-ups, but since we have not done yoga ONCE on the island. The mat has been an underutilized asset.

In the DUH category are the rechargeable batteries that we packed while failing to pack the recharger. For my part, I packed a dilapidated pair of cargo shorts with a massive hole in the crotch. People don’t take me seriously as a divemaster when they are exposed to my boxers during the equipment setup.

We did get some things right, or as Mal, the Scuba Instructor from England, would say, “spot on.” Our dive computer watches have been better than advertised. We bought them used off of Craigslist before we left California, and really did not understand what we were buying, what the critical features were. We did a blind, price driven, single manufacturer search, and came away with two perfectly simple, durable, easy-to-use dive watch computers from Suunto. We could not be happier with our purchase decision.

We have worn every stitch of clothes we brought, and some for several days before laundering. The safari/hiking pants that Cat bought for us have been particularly invaluable. Around the dive shop, we were getting eaten alive (see Bugs above), and opted to use our full-length hiking pants as shields. They are light, airy, comfortable, dry in a jiffy, and are saturated with bug repellent. The brand is “Bug Off”, and it’s an appropriately name. I want to be buried in my Bug Off pants.

Lastly, there are some things that we should have packed. Cat should have more pairs of shorts, and surf shorts to wear over her bathing suit, in particular. Every time we “have to” do laundry, it was because Cat was out of shorts or Capri pants or leg coverings in general.

Our friends, Serena and Jose, bought rain gear, and we especially admired and envied their rain pants. Although wetness is inevitable on the island, staving off leg, shorts and underwear moisture for as long as possible is a good objective. Plus, rain pants can roll into a small ball, and take up very little space. Cat has a good rain coat, and I have a good poncho, but we definitely missed the (dry-docked) boat on the rain pants.

Before we left, we decided we would use Skype to call home, make business calls, and make travel arrangements. We knew that we needed a computer-specific headset, and for the 9 months leading up to our departure date, we procrastinated. Every procrastination comes with an equal or greater karmic payback. I tried to McGiver the situation and use my built-in microphone and iPod earphones. It worked, but I looked ridiculous leaning low over my computer talking into various corners of my keyboard to find the optimal microphone clarity. So, we decided to invest in a headset. And, where does one go on the island for “stuff”—Coxen Hole.
We made a special trip into “town”, as it’s referred to in West End, in search of a simple headset. After a few hours at 10+ stores, and many blank stairs from the store employees, we slinked home defeated. A few days later, when we visited Mal and Sofia’s for a sushi dinner party (great night, BTW), we noticed their computer headset. Cat asked, “where did you get your headset?” Sofia answered, “at Paradise Computers.” “Where’s that?” “In West End.” We wasted several days trying to jimmy-rig a system, and then a half-day in Coxen Hole, and the perfect headsets were sold for $15 at a store that we walked by twice a day, every day. That was some bad karma.

Divemasters

2008-11-06T15:38:00.001-08:00

Well, it’s official. We are DIVEMASTERS……in name, if not in ability……SMILE.

We finished the skills test, stress test, and DM leader test on Friday. It was a stormy day, and West Bay looked more like Mendocino than the Caribbean. Sofia put us through our paces, and at one point had us buddy breathing, masks filled with sand, and tied up with string in the middle of our underwater equipment exchange. This skill could have been completed the day before in much more kind seas had we gotten along better-smile.

After we finished the last few requirements, and achieved DM certification, we ran into Coxen Hole to buy Halloween costumes. The party was at the pool bar (now called Oasis), and we have become good acquaintances with the owners (Mark and Joanie). When we arrived at Oasis, the news of our DM status had reached them, and they both gave us big hugs, and started chanting “Snorkel Test!!! Snorkel Test!!!”

Evidently, we weren’t QUITE done with the (unofficial) tests just yet. Midway through the party, Mal and Sofia joined Mark and Joanie behind the bar, and announced to the packed crowd that it was time for a Snorkel Test. Many of the patrons are divers so they knew all to well what was coming. Mal and Sofia set up two chairs behind the bar, and brought out the snorkel test apparatus. To the top of a snorkel, a 2-liter coke bottle with the bottom cut out had been taped. We were given our mask and snorkel, and told to sit in the chairs. From the back room, Mal and Sofia emerged with pitchers of brownish concoctions. We were told later that it’s a customized, secret potion…..complete with anything and everything from the bar.

With the crowd shouting encouragement, and a few derogatory comments about my manhood, we put on the mask, and put the snorkel in our mouths. The countdown to doom commenced. We both drained about half a pitcher each before near-gacking. But, we had to pass the test, so we put the snorkel back in our mouths and kept chugging. We passed…..just barely.

So, with all our tests now complete, we head for Costa Rica to lick our wounds and relax

with our friends Kurt and Linda. Grateful to the kind people we have come to know and miss

on Roatan.

Buffet, Indy and the Guess O Gear

2008-10-25T16:32:00.000-07:00

Indy, Buffett, and the Guess-O – A short visit to Roatan.

October 4, 2008 (sorry this is a little delayed-smile)

Michael and Carl from Naples, FL visited a few weeks ago. It has taken me a few weeks more to organize my thoughts, rinse my liver, and make sense of their stay. They came at the right time – for us, we needed a dose of home and the friends we left behind; for them, they enjoyed the final days of sunshine on Roatan before the skies burst with the rainy season.

In preparation for their arrival, we stopped at the wine store, and were walking back to the dive shop when I spotted their rental car. It was practically brand new. The cleanest, newest rental car I had ever seen on the island. Evidently, Michael had worked his magic at the rental counter. We hopped into the car, and were introduced to Carl.

I asked, “How were your flights?”

Carl replied, “Great. We made it fine, but our luggage is still on the runway in Pedro-Sula.”

With Cat and I in tow, they checked-in at the Paradise Beach Resort in West Bay, Roatan. Michael and Kenny purchased and sold a sweet condo on the sand at Paradise, and it is still Michael’s preferred destination. Given the impending rainy season, Paradise was a ghost town…for that matter, all of Roatan is a ghost town. So, Michael talked to the first Honduran he met, Jenny, who looked confused and language challenged. Talking a mile a minute, Michael overwhelmed her, but did happen to mention Villa 3. Jenny picked up on Villa 3, and the light of understanding swept over her. She could help us. She motioned for Michael and Carl to bring their luggage, at which point they pointed to their backpacks. Jenny looked confused again.

Rental car = good. Luggage missing = bad. Roatan giveth, and Roatan taketh away. Michael and Carl were about to experience “island time” in all its joy.

Armed with beers and a mai tai for Cat, we hopped in the car to drive to West End for cocktails and dinner. West Bay is quiet at night, even in the high-season, so West End was the obvious choice. The road from West Bay to West end goes over the ridge, and climbs to 1500 feet or so. As we wound our way up the road, Michael went to down shift. He tried to jam it into 2nd gear, only to find out that it had disappeared. We rolled to a stop on a 10% grade. Michael methodically tested the gear shift. “That’s 3rd gear. 4th. 5th. This must be first.” He popped the clutch, and said, “NOPE that’s NOT 1st.” He repeated the process several times, as we bust his chops and laughed. With each pop of the clutch, the engine whined and the clutch smoked, and we rolled back down the road into the dark abyss.

Between jokes and barbs, Carl tried to help, “What gear ya in?”

Michael, “I have no idea.”

Carl, “Well, take a guess.”

Michael, “We rented the newest damn car on Roatan, and it has a Guess-O-Gear transmission.”

And, just like that the Guess-O-Gear car was created. For an extra charge, you could rent the Toyota with the Guess-O-Matic. How much horsepower? It’s anybody’s guess. Does it have reverse? Guess not. Laughing at the absurdity of our shiny new car with the Guess-O-Gear transmission, Michael kept popping the clutch and rolling backwards. Because he couldn’t find reverse, we didn’t have any rear lights, so he asked me and Cat, “what’s behind us?”

Cat said, “A cliff, a jungle, and further down a driveway.”

Out of options, and with Cat’s guidance, Michael rolled the car into and up the driveway, and then turned us back down the hill in third gear. We parked the Guess-O-Gear at Paradise, and took a cab to West End. The next day, Michael and Carl would have to track down their luggage through Taca Airlines (Taca = take a chance airline), and get a new transmission from Avis.

Day 2: Michael had packed a pair of swim trunks. He understood Taca. He neglected to share his knowledge with Carl. The bags were supposed to be delivered at 9am. By 11am, the bags still had not left Pedro-Sula. The sun was out, and Carl was baking in 90 degree, 90 percent humidity heat in his Levi’s. Sweating profusely, Carl disappeared up the beach in search of relief. He returned triumphantly, and looking every bit the part of an Ohio tourist. He had found the only shorts in West Bay – baby blue, elastic band basketball shorts with yellow stripes and the number 92 embroidered on the side. He looked odd, but he stopped sweating.

That afternoon, we took a long snorkel tour of Mandy’s Eel Garden, and the shallows of the West End Wall. After beers and a snack at Infinity Bay, we returned to Paradise to find the luggage had arrived, and the transmission was fixed. 24 hours after they arrived, we were good to go.

Day 3: Two tank diving day in/around West Bay: The first dive was The Cave. The second dive was West End Wall. Both went smooth, and the visibility was very good. There was lots of grouper, yellow tailed snapper, lobsters, crabs, creole wrasse, parrot fish, dog fish, and a myriad of others. The Wall, in particular, was exceptional. With little or no current, Martin (pronounced Mar-Teen) took us down to a wreck that can only be seen with a slack current. At 110 feet, we floated in the deep blue and hovered over the Josie James wreck.

Day 4: Over dinner the previous night, Michael had suggested that we take an excursion. He had ventured down the dirt road to Palmetto Bay before with Kenny and wanted to venture again. Initially, Michael babied the Guess-O-Gear along the dirt road. It didn’t take long for his confidence in the new transmission part to grow. With every turn, we went faster and faster. Cat and I buckled in. Our journey took us to Marbella. As we approached the beach, we came upon a rectangular collection of roman columns. They looked completely out of place and mysterious. Why had the owner of this property erected roman columns, and why in this place? Perplexed, and dirt road weary, we deemed the columns Stonehenge. Just past Stonehenge, we parked in a forest of palm trees, and got out to investigate this beautiful, remote, strangely-partially developed slice of the island. The beach seemed to stretch for miles – North to Palmetto Resort, and South to Turtling Bay. It was late afternoon, and the sun shined warmly from the West.

Our peace and serenity quickly changed when Carl took over the driving duties. Revving the engine, he did a figure eight in the palm tree grove, stopped to pick us up, and then blew past Stonehenge in a burst of sand and rock. Marbella Beach to Palmetto is 5 miles or so. Between the two, there are several road/driveways that go to the beach. Carl chose one of these roads to explore, and piloted us to a remote beach village named Crawfish Rock. The locals probably heard us barreling down the hillside, and were curious at the smell of brakes and rubber in dirt road town. We didn’t stay long. When we reached Palmetto Bay a few minutes, and several mild heart attacks, later we were pleased to find an oasis. I nearly got out and kissed the ground.

As we were to find out later, Carl had been BANNED by 2 rental car companies, and was currently sporting a Costa Rican driver’s license. Cat, Michael and I believed strongly that Carl (aka Carlos from Costa Rica) was well on his way to being banished from a 3rd company.

Day 4: Cayos Cochinos

Greg, the boat captain of the Gypsy Sol, likes combo trips. Greg owns and runs destination fishing operations in Oregon and Alaska, and is building a yurt village on the neighboring Bay Island, Guanaja. His passion is fishing, but he likes the adventurous side of scuba diving and boating exploration. There is a lot to see and do in the Bay Islands, and Greg is game for anything/everything.

We booked a group trip aboard the Gypsy Sol to Cayos Cochinos (Hog Island). Cayos is a small chain of islands and cays situated between Roatan and the mainland of Honduras. Once in the channel, we dropped in 7 trolling lines with assorted lures. Greg takes great pride in his gear, and it was all top notch poles, reels, outriggers, and lures. Before long, we hooked into a fish, and lost it. Then, another reel went off, and Michael quickly steered Viv (Martin’s girlfriend) to reel in the catch. Viv is a divemaster and a very sweet woman, but she is no fisherwoman. With wide eyes and much adrenaline, Viv frantically started reeling in the fish. Greg even strapped the standup fighting belt on her. With Michael working the level-wind thumb, Viv got the 4 foot barracuda to the boat in no time. The trip was off on the right foot.

We trolled across the channel, and up and down the 600 foot depth line for some time, before finally making our way to our first dive site. A quarter mile off Cayos there are a set of 3 underwater mountains that rise up from the sea floor to 50-60 feet from the surface. The surface current was ripping pretty good, so we dropped in quickly and went to 40 feet. The mountains emerged as if hidden by a cloud. The soft coral waved in the current. The massive barrel coral dotted the mountains. Schools of fish glided in the current and danced around the coral. As we reached 60 feet, the visibility improved dramatically, and the mountains unveiled their secrets. Because it is not a common dive spot, the coral was pristine. Cat had the camera and shot some very rare “peas”, flamingo tongues, and other exotic tropical fish.

After diving, we had to check in at the Smithsonian Marine Park HQ, and pay a day-use fee of $10/person. Then, it was on to lunch at Cayos Chachaguates, a rustic, small piece of sand covered with pole huts, boats in various stages of disrepair, and an abundance of smiling, playful children. Martin had visited the island last year, and he secured a fresh fish lunch for our crew served under a tarp on paper plates. Over lunch Michael explained his split-personality, his dual natures, his combative complementary self.

“I’m a Buffett,” he explained. “In the ways of the world—finance, marketing, business, strategy – I am like Warren Buffett. In my quest for fun, I am like Jimmy Buffett. Fishing with primo gear on a new 45 foot dual engine boat with a flying bridge….that’s Warren. Eating fresh yellow tail snapper on a small patch of sand 20 miles out to sea with indigenous Hondurans….that’s Jimmy.”

No, that’s brilliant.

After lunch, we took a short ride to Pelican Point for our second dive. Being close to Big Hog Island, the coastal underwater topography is dramatically different from the mountains of the first dive. The dive site was a labrynth of large, coral covered boulders. The boulders were home to lobsters, crabs, eels, and large grouper. The visibility wasn’t great, but plenty good enough to enjoy the robust fish den, rock swim-thrus, and abundant crustaceans hiding in the cracks. Our max depth was only 70 feet, but there was a lot to see and do at that depth.

After our second dive, Greg decided to troll home. We didn’t get any hits, so he pulled the lines after a short time, and started powering back to Roatan. Then, he noticed a puff of water to the West, shimmering in the sunset. “Whale!!!” He turned towards the spout, and gunned the engines. We intersected the whale(s) in time to see one tail fin pop up before disappearing for a deep dive. It was the perfect end to a Buffett kinda day.

Day 5: End of the road.

The general rule is that you should not scuba dive 24 hours before flying. In Coxen Hole, we gassed up the Guess-O-Gear and Buffett invested in several barley beverages for breakfast. The plan was to go to Camp Bay – the end of the road. And, the term road is loosely defined in Roatan. Kinda like loose gravel to be exact. We made stops in French Harbor, got stopped at the gate of Fantasy Island, Parrot Tree Resort, Paya Bay, and finally Pulpit Point. Pulpit Point was aptly named. It overlooks the mangroves at the North tip of the island, with a perfect view of Morat, Barbaret and Guanaja islands. Cat’s sermon from the pulpit was succinct, “Let’s go have lunch.”

And, just like that, we were in a bar IN Camp Bay (20 feet off shore on stilts) having sauted camerones and cuba libres. Jimmy, the owner, first opened Sirena’s (Siren in Spanish) before they had electricity in Camp Bay. His early operation is a tribute to alternative energy – solar, wind, and manpower….oh, and a Honda generator. The shrimp and the rum hit the spot, and the Jimmy in Michael was very happy. This was definitely the road less travelled, but well worth the pot holes.

Staying with the water-tavern theme, the trip home was pleasantly interrupted by a side excursion to Hole In The Wall bar. For me, the side trip was my road to redemption. Four Sundays prior, Cat and I had made a trip to Camp Bay on a kidney altering moped with the express purpose of going to Hole In The Wall for the steak and lobster BBQ . We held out from eating all afternoon just so we could fully indulge in the BBQ. But, alas, even in Honduras, there is a Teo Tax. After paying for the moped, gas, beers, sodas, and the boat taxi, I was left with an ATM Notice – insufficient funds. When I counted it out, we had just more than enough for ONE meal. I volunteered to go without, but Cat was stern…..and plenty embarrassed. So, I did what I normally do – improvise. I paid for Cat’s lunch and ordered a beer for me. Then, I asked for the owner (Bill), and explained our situation. With no ATM in Jonesville, he was very cool, and gave me a tab on the spot. Cat was adamantly opposed, but the smell of grilled lobster was breaking down her resolve. Finally, she acquiesced, and we had a great meal…and another few beers.

So, upon arrival with Carl and Buffett, I had Bill find my tab in the binder, and paid our debt with interest. It felt good to be debt free. Now, if only the US Government……ooops, this is not an op-ed piece. Sorry.

Hole In The Wall is a house boat moored in the shallows of Jonesville Bay, surrounded by mangroves and houses on stilts. It is a heap of shit, and priceless. Michael Buffett ordered lobster sandwiches that melted in your mouth, and Carl kept the beers flowing. We capped off the afternoon with homemade, hand-rolled cigars. There are a bowl of them for the patrons, and they are pretty damn good.

We returned to West Bay by way of sunset cocktails at Anthony’s Key. Over wine for the ladies, and beers for Carl and me, we watched a spectacular sunset and shared stories. One of the stories led to a description by Carl of all the “stuff” Michael stored at his house – including a double-decker stack of classic cars in his garage. Michael gave a knowing laugh, and asked Carl what he stored in his many sea containers strewn around Naples, FL. “Tell them about the antiquities, Carl.” Michael chided.

“What? You have artifacts in your closet?” I asked Carl.

“Maybe….a few………if you can call them artifacts. They’re just some bowls and stuff.”

“How old are the bowls, Carl?” Cat asked.

Carl: “Not sure. Old, I think.”

Matt: “Are you a tomb raider? What the hell do you have in the sea container?”

Cat: “Holy crap, we’ve been travelling with Indiana Jones.”

All in all, it was a pretty damn good week of fun with Buffet and Indy. In between the marquee events there was plenty of time to catch up on private topics, personal thoughts and just reconnecting friendship. In truth, the catch up time with Michael Buffett and getting to know Indy Jones will stay with us longer than the adventures.

The morning they left (in a driving rain storm, I might add), there was a sense of loss. The island was suddenly and significantly smaller, and more foreign again. Cat and I could almost feel the island fever coming on.

the little things we love on the island

2008-10-10T08:27:00.000-07:00

Our 1st Anniversary – “Messages in the Bottle”

2008-10-06T14:15:00.000-07:00

On September 15th, we celebrated our first wedding anniversary……with a two-tank dive morning at The Lighthouse and West End Wall, followed by two chapters of KR (Knowledge Review) from the Divemaster Manual…..something about hypothetical tissues, compartments, half-times and M-Values. It was mind-numbing……kinda like looking back at how fast the last year has gone by.

We have been married a YEAR!!!

Thankfully, the first anniversary is “paper”. Since we are both unemployed and homeless, paper we can afford. And, we brought precious paper in the form of our antique Robert Gibson, Manchester England bottle full of marital counseling – the Messages in the Bottle from our wedding day.

We publish excerpts here for the betterment of all relationships. If you need inspiration, sage counsel, poetry, pictorials of joy, sensible suggestions, foreplay secrets, random non-sense and loads of “my two cents”, then you will find it below.

We LOVED them all. Well, most of them, anyway. Here’s how our day started.

At 5am, Cat awoke with a start. “It’s our anniversary, honey.” I would have preferred that our anniversary start a little later in the morning, but I’m married now, so my 5am is now OUR 5am, according to community law.

Cat grabbed the bottle and proceeded quickly out the door to our rock wall by the sea. I drowsily followed, with an ice coffee in hand. We negotiated a fair number for the morning reading, and settled on 10 messages. Cat dug into the bottle like an octopus probing a reef for fish. Suggestions at sunrise. Recommendations on Roatan. Opinions by the Ocean. First message = BLANK. Dammit, Joe D, this is no time to fail me. Second message = “Fun wedding. Great time. Perfect couple. Be good to each other.” OK, now we’re getting somewhere. Third message = Cat silently read a note from her father, and started crying with joy. Then, she handed the note to me. I choked up too (it was beautiful). All we could think to do was hug. It was 5:30am, the sun was peaking over the top of the island, and two pajama-clad foreigners were huggin’ on a sea wall. Perfect.

Then, Cat broke our embrace and wanted to read another 15 messages. I had to talk her off that cliff. 10 messages was the deal……just like till death do us part. But, she gave me “the look”, and I got rolled like sand in high surf. Cat went bottle fishing, and we kept on reading.

We opened 10 more at lunch (after diving), and saved the rest for dinner. At the Argentina Grill (our favorite restaurant on the island), we ordered wine, broke out the video camera and took turns reading the messages. It was such a treat, and the best part was that it took us back to our wedding day, and all the fun that we had. It was necessary to relive the wedding day, because the actual day is still just a blur in our memories.

We are sincerely grateful and humbled by the love you have shared with us, are sharing with us, and will share with us. Here’s some of what you wrote……enjoy.

Messages in the Bottle: MITB – The Wedding
“Congratulations!!”
“The ceremony was so pretty.”
“The wedding was beautiful. You both looked sooooooooo happy.”
“Starfish, sand dollars, tobasco, joy, love, wine, cottage of sweets…..truly beautiful.”
“Cat, you’re so pretty. Matt, well…congratulations.”
“Wonderfully perfect day.”
“What a beautiful day.”
“I can feel the love today.”
“You really know how to throw a great party.”
“You have set the bar. I want to come to your 5th and 10th anniversaries.”
“On a day that makes my heart burst with happiness.”
“So the day has finally arrived.”
“What a day!!”
“All your planning paid off.”
“Thank you for an amazing party.”
“I am so happy to be here.”

Our Take: The Wedding – WE are so happy YOU were there. Our friends and families mingled and meshed so well, so seamlessly. It was our joy to behold, and an even greater joy to mix it up for a night.

MITB – Time
“Hope your marriage lasts forever.”
“9-15-08…..HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!”
“Hope you’re as happy today as you were on your wedding day.”
“May you both love one another as much as you do today.”
“You don’t even know how long I have been waiting for this to happen.”
“You made it one year. SWEET. It only gets better.”
“You’re one year in…..YEE HAW!!”
“The first year is over. Now, the work begins.”
“Timing is everything. Have a great time on your first anniversary.”

Our Take: Time – Yes, you read it right. We got a YEE HAW message.

MITB – Fertility
“May you be blessed with many children.”
“Hopefully, we’ll have kids that grow up together.”
“So, any kids yet?”
“May your life be prosperous and full of children.”
“We can’t wait to meet those beautiful babies.”
“Hope your little one is doing well. Better get crackin’ on #2.”
“Here’s to love, laughter, happiness forever and a round belly!!”

Our Take: Fertility – We are on hold until 2010 at the earliest. It took us 7 years to get married, so baby-making could lag a bit behind expectations.

MITB – Romance
“I saw that kiss you gave her. Matt, give her thousands of those, and Cat, you give them right back.”
“Matt, bring home a nice bunch of flowers for no reason.”
“Love hard and often.”
“Go have sex.”
“I suggest you surf naked in the moonlight.”
“Good lovin’.”
“Withold affection until he loses that extra 40 pounds.”
“Kiss goodnight.”
“Laugh lots. Kiss often. Feel the sand between your toes.”

Our Take: Romance – So, now I have to exercise, learn to surf, and buy dead plants at exhorbitant prices just to satisfy my wife. Married foreplay is tough sledding.

MITB – Compatibility
“You two were made for each other.”
“Life is so great when you spend it with your best friend.”
“You both exude an amazing feeling.”
“Happy Anniversary to the coolest couple we know.”
“You guys are 100% perfect for each other.”
“You are two of the most special people I know.”
“You guys rock!!”
“You inspire us.”
“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are four each other.”

Our Take – Compatibility – We dated for 7 years, and still learned more about each other in the last year than we did in the first seven. That surprised both of us. It’s remarkable, really.

MITB – Luck
“Best of luck.”
“Good luck.”
“Teo, you’re lucky she married you.”
“Cat, good luck. Ya know you’re stuck with him now.”
“Cheers, salud, prost!!”
“Un fuerte abrazo.”
“Love, peace and chicken grease.”
“You two are lucky to have found each other.”
“Teo, you are a lucky bastard.”

Our Take – Luck – The old saying is, “I’d rather be lucky than good.” We covered our bases. Cat’s good, and I’m lucky to have her.

MITB – Advice
“Never go to bed mad at each other.”
“Love, love, love, love, etc into infinity.”“Spend the rest of your lives filled with the same love…”
“It’s nice to speak to each other in foreign language, so you can claim that you “misunderstood” when you screw up.”
“Have a good communication.”
“Never go to sleep without kissing each other goodnight.”
“When you get mad at each other, just think back to this day and the love that you have for each other.”
“Always say I love you.”
“Have faith during the bad times that things will get good again.”
“Talk when you don’t feel like it.”
“Remember, it’s all about “yes dear” because in the end it doesn’t matter.”
“Take each day as if it is your last and enjoy all that the good Lord has given us.”
“Matt, always try to be nice with her.”
“Pick your battles. It’s OK to lose once in a while.”
“Learn to live it, love it, and trust it.”
“Draw your strength from each other.”
“Know it’s OK to fall, because now there is someone there to pick you up.”
“Patience.”
“Always be honest even if you hurt one another’s feelings.”
“Laughter is medicine. Tell a stupid joke. Do the chicken dance. Pull your underwear up as high as possible.”
“Always remember – we are here to learn and grow.”
“Always have a kind word for each other.”
“Never let the sun go down on your anger.”

Our Take – Advice – We should have opened the MITB a year ago. This is good stuff, and we coulda used it several times this past year. It will go to good use for the next 50 years.

MITB – Curious Comments
“I love your wife.”
“Tell your dad to send me money every month.”
“You made it through your first year…??”
“Call me immediately, and you will receive the rest of this message.”
“Being married is not the same as dating.”
“Marriage is a wonderful institution.”
“I loved the love.”
“I have no advice, as I am not in a position to give any.”
“Thanks for the hot sauce and hard candy.”
“Matt, you still have short legs.”
“Hang on…..I needed to have some more wine….I’m back….”
“Cat, I’m so sorry that Matt has become fat, lazy and out of shape.”
“Pinot Snuggles”
“We all love your wife.”
“Matt, buy cool clothes. Don’t wear a speedo.”
“Let’s be family again.”
“Prec……oh well, can’t spell that word tonight.”

Our Take – Curious Comments – Good to see the open bar was well attended.

MITB – Looking Back
“Thinking back to the first night you met at Rock-N-Bowl. OK, I don’t remember much of that night.”
“Blue tights and hiking boots, bowling shirts, sledding down the street. I feel so lucky to have been there the night you both met, and see how your relationship has grown.”

MITB – Looking Ahead
“We look forward to lots more great times to come.”
“My wish for you is to be as crazy about each other 20, 30, 40, 50 years from now, as you are tonight.”
“It’s smooth sailing from here.”
“And they lived a happy and wild life after that.”

MITB – Blessings
“….a year since I have been praying God’s richest blessing on you and your marriage.”
“We wish you a lifetime of blessings – on the mountaintop and in the valleys.”
“Live your lives as God intended.”
“If you need wisdom, ask God.” James 1:5
“Awesome. One year. Praise God.”
“A family that prays together, stays together.”

MITB – Poetry
“There once was a young man named Matt.
Who found for himself a blonde Cat.

She struck quite a pose
In her New Orleans clothes

And for our young Matt,
That was that.”

Our Take – MITB - Thanks for the laughs, and many fond memories……then and now. You made our wedding day, and you added a certain “hot sauce” and "chicken grease" to our first anniversary.

Love the love,

Speedo-less Matt & Lovely Cat

Where's Matt?!?!?

2008-09-12T07:09:00.000-07:00

by land and by sea

2008-09-03T17:26:00.000-07:00

The first week we were here felt like a year. We looked at each other in amazement

at all we had done. Tonight, while watching the sunset, we could not believe how fast

the week went by :-) We are adjusting and feeling more at home on the island and

with island time. Last Wednesday, we hopped on a boat for acouple scuba dives and

tour around the island. Absolutely incredible!!! Thank you Mal, Greg and Robyn!!! :-)

We swam with dolphins and anchored for lunch off the Island of Morat. After lunch, we

snorkeled around Morat and saw several juvenile fish...very cute! Matt even got to try his

hand at fishing with success. Well, he did catch a fish but threw it back due to size. The island villages and towns have such a different appearance from the sea. During the boat ride, a spot was pointed out to us noting the end of the road on the island. We were inspired and decided to rent a scooter to explore the island by land on Sunday.

Sunday morning, Matt shows up two hours later then we anticipated with our scooter (ahhhh, island time-smile) and off we go. We had set out to drive to where the road ends on the island. The first half of the scoot was breezy so to say :-) Then we got to the unpaved side of the island and the rodeo began :-) We both are determined to lose weight but nothing screams red light more then not even being able to avoid scraping the bottom of the scooter on some of the rougher patches...yikes :-) We stopped for gas...and to see if we could pump the tires up more. When we were in the states on our Vespa, Cat often laughs at the thought of what we must look like on the highway to bypassers putting along. Cat laughed (and cursed-smile) a few times with the similar thought of how we must look to people we pass by on the island. At one point, Matt was likened to Bob the Builder by Mal. Appropriate given Bob's mantra of,"Yes, we can!!!" Yes we can tackle the dirt roads of Roatan on a scooter like we are riding a dirt bike (which the island does rent...hmmmmm-smile). All said and done, we practically made it to the end of the road. We arrived in Camp Bay for a beer and a walk to try to release the onset of permanent bowleggedness. While walking, enjoyed the songs of the local church service and peace of the area. Mal and Sofia purchased land in this area. Mal and visiting friends were also doing the island tour (by car...smart people-smile) and we ran into them and got to hike to their piece of heaven...awestruck and amazed...just beautiful!!! We then headed off to Hole in the Wall in Jonesville. Hole in the Wall is a bar/restaurant on a barge set back in one of the bays which can only be accessed by boat. Killer place! Great characters and awesome all-you-can-eat yummies. Last time we were there we had just eaten, this time we brought our A game and were ready to grub. Worth every penny!

Last stop of the day was a futbol game in a village/town we still cannot pronounce properly. Kedar, one of the boat drivers from Bananarama, plays on a local team. We were stoked to go see a game in a local stadium. We found the stadium, however running on island time ourselves, were about an hour late to find there was no game. At least not there :-) The game was on at another location. Had we actually been on time, we would have had our futbol fix. Some things do run on time :-) Next week!!! :-)

We have spent the past few days trying to kill Mal...and Jose...and Martin :-) Mal is the brave soul teaching us Rescue Diver Training. All three have had to risk their lives while our panicked lame asses have tried to get it together and save them. Matt was called a control freak today and Cat was told that she needs to stop, think, breathe acouple times more then the norm before she acts :-) YESSSSSSS!!! hahahaha :-) We are exhausted and loving every minute of it :-)

Off to Sundowners to Chase the Ace with us!!!

We hope all is well with everyone!!!

We love and miss ya!!!

Deadbolt Lock Installation Guide – Roatan, Honduras

2008-08-26T17:57:00.000-07:00

Step 1: Rent a beach house with a front door (3 locks) and a backdoor (1.5 locks). The half lock is a latch that doesn’t fit into the hole…..drilled an inch higher than the latch. The front door is Fort Knox. The backdoor is Knots Berry Farm – “Step Right Up Folks!! We got everything from dive gear to camera equipment. NO WAITING.”

Step 2: Rent a beach house from a Honduran single mom (property manager) with two marvelous children who lives in a house her father built next to the abandoned church he built to start his own congregation. Her father is a Baptist, but the resort nearby added a bar, and there’s a Honduran law that prohibits churches to operate within a specific number of meters from a bar. Bad for both businesses, presumably.

Step 3: During the rental walkthrough, foolishly volunteer to fortify the cottage with a deadbolt lock on the backdoor. Boast naively, “it’ll take 20 minutes. No problema.”

Step 4: Feel the hook sink. “OK, Mista Matt (that’s what Teralyn, the property manage, calls me). I da know xactly what a buy, doe.”

Step 5: Seal your fate. “No worries, Teralyn, I’ll go with you and we’ll buy the lock and some other supplies together.”

Step 6: Clear your schedule for a few days. Trust me.

Step 7: Show up at Teralyn’s house at the appointed time (9am). Look away as she answers the door in a towel. “I be right witch you. Just gotouta da shower, ya see.” Yes, I saw too much.

Step 8: Walk to West End to catch a cab. Pass Teralyn’s car parked in the driveway.

Step 9: Walk past several cabs to a spot the locals use. “Doze utta cabbies rip you off. Day for da tourists.”

Step 10: Proceed to Coxen Hole by making more stops than a mailman. Fill the Toyota Corola with an assortment of roadside Roatanians who are all going somewhere in no apparent hurry. Perhaps they needed a new deadbolt lock on a Wednesday, and cleared their schedule for a few days.

Step 11: Go to the Serrano Industrial Supply store in Coxen Hole. Ask for help in Spanglish. “Como se dice deadbolt lock para un door at Playa House?” Stand in place while young female worker scurries away and brings back a translator. Repeat Spanglish. Blush when both young female and translator giggle.

Step 12: Suck up pride and do hardware store charades. Do very poor sound effects while simulating turning a key. Repeat again and again as the young pair of employees takes you down every aisle in the store pointing at things they think you want.

Step 13: Exasperated, head for the exit only to find the deadbolt locks hanging over the doorway. Vainly attempt to reach the conveniently located 9 foot high product display as the young employees simulate your hardware store charades to the delight and laughter of the onlookers.

Step 14: Elusive lock in hand, meet Teralyn at the checkout counter. Wait patiently as counter girl itemizes our basket in hand-writing, and totals the bill on a calculator. After 15 minutes, grab the shopping bag and head for the door. Get stopped by the security guard for attempted robbery. Meet Teralyn at the “payment” counter, and endure more laughter from the onlookers.

Step 15: Depart Serrano’s and glance at watch. 12:30pm. Three and a half hours, and the coveted lock is in hand. To be safe, allocate 4 hours.

Step 16: Attempt to hail a cab only to hear Terralyn say, “Mista Matt, I goyna say hi to ma cousin dare cross da road. OK?” Stutter a lame reply, like “no problema” and slump across the road behind her.

Step 17: Listen to the recent family history of two female Honduran cousins. Grind teeth as one week of history is broken down into 5 minute intervals, and recited with joy and laughter. Be thankful they are not laughing at you….or so you think.

Step 18: Hail a cab, repeat random roadside pickups, and return to West End at 2pm. Prepare yourself for construction work. Inquire with Teralyn about some tools – screw drivers, drills, drill bits, a hammer, a chisel, and the like. “Oh, Mista Matt, I gotta tools.” Ask if you can have them. “Sure, I get ‘em from my brother today.”

Step 19: Kiss workday #1 goodbye. Find wife, and explain why we have to stand guard at the beach house with the inviting backdoor. Endure wife’s look. Take the cold dagger and shiver because you realize how long this project might actually take. Wives do not suffer in silence.

Step 20: Wake at 5am on Day 2. Lock day. Beam with confidence. Attempt to track down Teralyn to get the tools. Fail again and again. Finally find her at 2pm, at her father’s house a few hundred feet away from her house. Learn that the tools are, in fact, at her house, and she’ll gladly bring them em by later. At 8pm, return to father’s house, and miraculously gain possession of the tools under the light of the half-moon.

Step 21: Return to beach house for “easy assembly” (as stated on the packaging). Read instructions carefully, and realize that the three drill bits that Teralyn’s brother loaned you are either the wrong size or broken or both. Do not panic. Improvise.

Step 22: The directions say to use a 2-inch hole saw. Your 2-inch hole saw is from World War II, is missing a vital piece, and is duller than a butter knife. Attempt to use it anyway. Have wife hold the door securely as you repeatedly scratch and claw the door with the butter-hole-saw.

Step 23: Switch to the 1.5-inch drill bit, and drill a hole that is too small for the lock assembly. Twist, turn and otherwise contort the drill to gouge a bigger hole. Twist wrist when the bit catches. Curse loudly. Repeat.

Step 24: Put down drill and think. After 15 minutes of drilling, the hole is still too small. Ask wife for ideas. Heed her suggestion to chisel out the hole. Lacking a chisel, opt for a bent screw driver. Lacking a hammer, opt for the only steel in the storage shed – a pick axe. Have wife secure door with hands and feet, put bent flat head screw driver in place, and start swinging the pick axe. Narrowly avoid hitting wife’s hands, face and other body parts.

Step 25: Get the hole somewhat large enough. Turn focus to latch hole. Use ¾” drill bit to forge a 1” hole. Twist, turn, contort, and sweat. Get it close (enough) and attempt to slide the latch into the hole. Fail. Try again. Fail. Curse loudly. Use screw driver and pick axe to bore larger hole. On fourth swing, narrowly miss wife’s forehead with pick axe. Silent note to self: reevaluate upping life insurance on wife to $2M.

Step 26: Attempt to push the latch through the hole. Have it barely stick in the hole. Use the pick axe to force it into place. On the third swing, break the latch. Curse loud enough to wake the entire island.

Step 27: Take a beer break. You will need to buy a new lock in Coxen Hole, and it’s too late to go at night.

Step 28: Day 3 of the deadbolt lock assembly. At 7am, you and your wife take a taxi to Coxen Hole. Upon arrival to town, realize that you cannot remember the name of the hardware store, where it’s located, or how to say “hardware” in Spanish. Exude confidence so as to not alarm wife. Have cab driver take you through town, and look for familiar landmarks. After second circuit through town, and questions that you cannot answer from your wife, have the cabbie drop you off at the opening of a dark alley. Whither under glare of your wife. Try not to panic.

Step 29: Do some non-hardware shopping at HB Warren’s, and ask the cashiers in Spanglish-charades for the location of the hardware store. Be prepared to hear “no se…..no comprende.” Oh no!!

Step 30: Stop a police man, and ask for help. Miraculously, receive help in spades. Serrano Industrial (duh, now you will remember the name after the kind policeman says it) is just down the main street a mile or so. Start hoofing it. The walk will somewhat relieve your wife’s stress. Reenter Serrano Industrial, try to avoid ridiculing eye contact with the help staff, find a step ladder, pull down another deadbolt lock, locate a 1” drill bit, go to the register counter, and finally to the payment counter.

Step 31: Return to beach house, drill correct sized 1” hole for latch, and matching hole in the door frame. Replace the pick axe with a lava rock from the yard, and grab the screw driver. Hack away at the door and door frame to create strike box areas. Slide latch, cover plates into place, and screw together using a rusted, stripped, phillips-head screw driver. Using wood screws, attach both strike boxes. Test lock. Fail test. Ask wife to kill you with the pick axe.

Step 32: Disassemble lock assembly. Dissect the problem, and reassemble. Strip the wood screw hole for one of the strike boxes. Keep moving forward - finishing the project is more important that quality workmanship. Test again. EUREKA, it works. Time of completion: 11:22am, Day 3. Total elapsed time to assembly one friggin’, simple deadbolt lock = 3 Days, 2 hours, 22 minutes.

No problema……oye.

The view and taking a dip

2008-08-23T21:35:00.000-07:00

We are moved in!!! After investigating our options for a day and a half, we settled on a wonderful studio apartment with a deck and access to the ocean and great sunsets on the out skirts of West End. To our right is a great little hotel named Lands End which is ran by an equally great guy named Adi. When Matt and I were here in Feb. we attended an awesome yoga class at Lands End and are looking forward to walking next door every Tues and Thurs for yoga. We also have enjoyed saddling up to the outdoor bar with a beer watching the sunset and chatting it up with Adi. Matt made his first home cooked meal this evening and has already done some gardening :-) Yesterday, we walked down the little path in the picture and snorkeled to West End. There is great snorkeling and scuba diving right in our back yard! :-) It is quiet, peaceful and we have AC...life is good! :-) Oh, and most importantly, we have room for guest!!! You all are welcome to come visit!!! :-)

Today, started out a tad stressful with Matt having to use the tools cavemen used to install a bolt lock to our back door. With bolt lock installed and our casa locked up, we headed to the dive shop for our first day of diving. We have a 40 min walk through town and along the beach to get to the dive shop and are loving the exercise. The water is like bath water. Today we got to spend alot of time just getting reacquainted with diving. It was just Mal, Matt and myself on the dive. We took our time exploring the coral and sandy areas underwater. Once on land, Mal went over fish identification with Matt and I. Fascinating stuff!!! Tomorrow, Matt and I have a healthy list of fish we are to identify underwater. We also will start playing with our underwater camera equipment tomorrow and soon should be posting pics from our dives.

We hope all is well with everyone!!! Come Visit!!! :-)

Monkey La La and Noni Berry

2008-08-23T20:21:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhhh....the monkey la la! No, I am not referring to the lizard also deemed this name but of the blended alcoholic beverage served up at the Sundowner in West End. It's like dessert and on a hot day like the ones we have experienced here, one sip and I am saying, "Amen!" Also, saying, "Amen" is Matt who has had to sleep with either a light on or swaddled in a net for the last three nights. I thought the brown geckos which live on our walls in our hotel room/apartment were the very same monkey lala lizard where one bite from these little motorboats (sidebar:the lizard is also named the Jesus Christ Lizard due to it ability to look like it is walking on water) and it is rumored you are in for a world of hurt. We have not been able to get a decent internet connection during this time. No research could be done until tonight. Sleep will fall peacefully on the Loera's of Roatan...no net swaddling or security light. I was able to do enough research to know a)the brown geckos are my friend b)the monkey lala lizard is not shacking up with us, and though it may give a nasty bite, we are safe in our little apartment :-) Amen!!! Matt will drink to that!!! :-)

Roatan also grows Noni berries. According to one website it is a funny-looking, unattractive tropical fruit with a long history of treating a variety of respiratory, digestive, nervous and immune system issues. While at Sundowners, we met a great couple from Dallas (Hi CC and Rand!) who introduced me to the fruit and it's medicinal ways. I had seen it on the menu as a smoothie at the restaurant next to our cabin and was eager to try it. The next morning, I woke up rundown and not feeling so well (no it was not alcohol related) and got down to the smoothie shop to try a noni berry smoothie. It is already hotter then the dickens and the smoothie arrives cold and inviting. Bottoms up to health...or not! Yikes! I felt like I was sucking up my own vomit. I then vaguely recall CC and Rand mentioning the unappealing taste and wished I had ordered a small :-) Next time around, I plan on mixing it with another flavor or adding honey.

Our home away from home...

2008-08-16T10:07:00.000-07:00

"Everything we own in a box to the left"

We recently listened to Beyonce and could not resist channeling her a bit when describing our beautiful (it is now a fresh shade of white by the way-smile) home away from home. Our sea container is actually just the shelter for all of our worldly possessions and home for the next three months is West End on Roatan in Honduras.

Matt and I land Tuesday in Roatan until Nov. 15. We will hopefully have a more permanent shingle to rest our heads under in the next day or two and will forward our info as we get it. We will always be available via our email addresses and as of today our cell phone numbers are inactive.

We also would like to thank Belle & Bobbo, Rhonda & Frank, Krista, Michael, Mika, Mark, Lisa and The Seelhorst Family for taking care of us this past week!!! Love you all!!!