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

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

Sao Paulo - New Years Eve

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)

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

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

Our 2nd Anniversary- Tickle the Stars

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