The Vietnam Wars

April 28, 2009
We have been in port so much lately that I have gotten way behind in my posts, but I will keep trying to catch up. Because of doing a daily devotion and teaching a meditation class on sea days, as well as going to lectures and doing a few deck games, I don’t seem to have any time!

Ho Chi Minh City (the locals still call it Saigon), Vietnam is hectic, cheap, dirty, and full of surprises. The first day we had to take a hydrofoil from the ship to a shuttle bus as our dock was taken by a container ship. The excuse was that the container ship needed repair, but we guessed later that it was the port authorities who needed their palms greased. Anyway the hydrofoil was fast and we walked down the main street in the rain to the big market. Luckily it is covered, so aside from needing our rain ponchos walking there, we did not have any problem. I bit on some silk pajamas, Ronnie on some perfume, and a few other small items, but the market is large enough that we were ready for lunch when we finished. We exited the market into the usual frenzy of hawkers, mostly trying to get you to take a rickshaw ride. It’s really more like a bicycle with a seat on the front, and one driver noticed our search for a restaurant and offered to take us to a local one for $1 for both of us. Well, we took the bait and off we went into the crazy Saigon traffic. And I mean crazy.

The millions of motor scooters, mopeds, motorcycles and occasional cars pay no attention to lights, crosswalks, or anything else. It’s a constant game of chicken to see who will yield to whom. Amazingly enough the initial total panic that we experienced going headlong into this chaos soon dissipated into somewhat amazed appreciation for the fact that it somehow seemed to work. We didn’t see any accidents, but we did hear that several people die each week in the city from motorbike accidents. Most do wear helmets, but we saw a family of four on one bike, and only the parents were wearing helmets (see photo).

It was a lot further than we anticipated to the restaurant, but the food was reasonably good and inexpensive. We noticed Rickshaw Ricky (as Ronnie has since come to call him) and his sidekick having a lunch on the house (we think, anyway) for bringing us there. And they were waiting for us afterwards, telling us all the places they would take us. Of course they had warmed us up at that point, calling us “Mamma” and “Poppa” and taking our photos in the Rickshaws. We did ask how much, and they said “Whatever you want to pay.” In my mind I was thinking if the ride to the restaurant was $1, maybe a few more stops would be a few more dollars. Of course we had been warned to agree to a firm price for transportation, but foolishly we went on without any. We actually had a great tour around the city, visiting temples, government buildings, churches, and the one we wanted to see most: The War Remnants Museum. Of course the time we went the wrong way on a one way street was terrifying, along with the time that Ronnie’s driver got way ahead of mine so we missed the light and my guy went right through the red light anyway. You think the traffic stopped for us? Yeah, right!?! But no one hit us and they did manage to weave their way around us.

Before telling about the second Vietnam War, as I have come to call the end of our Rickshaw ride, I will tell about the first Vietnam War from the Vietnamese perspective. Of course, from their perspective, it is called “The American War.” The War Remnants Museum shows not only artifacts of the war (see photo of American helicopter), but also depicts in photographs many massacres, such as Mi Lai, and the defoliation and human disease, death, and injury caused by burning napalm, Agent Orange and other chemicals. Indeed they claim Americans used Viet Nam as a place to test the effects of chemical warfare. They also show reconstructed prison cells where they claim Viet Cong prisoners were held, and alleged torture techniques used such as water boarding (sound familiar?).

Of course it is all very one sided, but we were reminded that it is their country, and they saw the US as invaders. Our perspective was that it was a civil war and the Viet Cong were the invading communists from the north. Again they saw the South Vietnamese as nothing more than a corrupt government and a puppet of the imperialist United States. Some of the questions that came up in my mind were: what would Viet Nam be like today if we had not gotten involved there? What did we accomplish? They see it as a great source of pride that they “won the war” and forced one of the most powerful nations of the world to withdraw. Our Rickshaw Ricky made is clear that after the Americans left Saigon, the North dropped bombs on Saigon since the South was still fighting and it is clear that many in the South suffered (death, imprisonment, loss of home and family) when the communists took over. Regardless of how you might feel about the war, you have to admire the ingenuity and determination of the Viet Cong.

Now to the second war. When we finished our tour the rickshaws stopped in a somewhat deserted street a few blocks from the hotel name we had given them, which was near our shuttle stop. We were thinking around $20 to be generous. They proceeded to tell us that no, it was $50 a piece. We reminded them they said whatever we wanted to pay, and they brought out a sheet showing how much they were supposed to get an hour. Of course, we couldn’t really figure out the sheet, and the little I could figure was that we owed them a whole lot less than they were asking, and all the dollars we had added up to about $17 (except for a $50 bill hidden away, which I was not about to give them). We offered them that, but they said they were insulted and their voices raised and got to the yelling point. Ronnie told them clearly not to yell, and I said if they cold take us to an ATM I might consider giving them more. They wanted us to get back in the Rickshaws, but no way we were doing that.

We followed them to the ATM, and when I put in my card, I was having trouble figuring out how much to get because of the conversion rate (about 17,000 dong to the dollar). Twice it asked me if I needed more time and I said yes, and then it finally said I was taking too long and ate my card! We were now much more upset by losing the card and told the drivers that. Rickshaw Ricky called the number listed on the ATM and finally got an English speaking man on the phone. He told me I could possibly pick up my card at their bank office 3 days later after 4 p.m. I told him we were leaving tomorrow early afternoon, and he said he would see what he could do and got my email address. Then Rickshaw Ricky was upset that we could not get money out of the machine and tried calling again. It was after 5 p.m. and there was no way the bank was doing anything then. We then started to walk away and noticed a security guard nearby laughing at the whole scene. I guessed he had seen the war before.

We gave Rickshaw Ricky the $17 and continued walking away with the two of them following us and continuing to demand more and wanting us to meet them the next morning back at the ATM to give them more $. We walked on. We had to ask directions to the hotel on the way, but I honestly have never seen Ronnie quite so angry, and she was charging into the crazy traffic without hardly a glance daring them to hit her. By the time we arrived at the hotel, we had lost our pursuers, or they simply gave up. We decided in the end they got what they deserved and were almost glad I couldn’t get any more $ out of the ATM. I don’t know if we won the war, but we certainly did not lose it altogether. However the credit card is another story.

We finally boarded the shuttle back to the ship, only to find we were the only two passengers on the bus. We when we started out, we noticed that it was going an entirely different route than it had in the morning. We tried to talk to the driver and escort, but neither spoke much English. They kept saying “ship” and nodding. We drove to the port area and saw some interesting sights along the way, including many well lit shops and sidewalk vendors. We even saw a man on a bicycle actually transporting a full size door! As we drove around the port area, it became clear that our driver did not know where he was going. He stopped at a booth and I guess asked directions. He and the escort were having a quite animated conversation with each other. We saw a lot of containers ships but no sign of our cruise ship. We thought, great! – first Rickshaw Ricky and now a lost driver with only the two of us and no way to communicate with him. He tried another entry to the port and a bus was coming out toward us. He backed up to let the bus out and I felt a bit better when I recognized people on the bus from the ship. When he did go in the gate, we drove around and around some more with the driver obviously unclear where we were going, and still no sign of our ship. Finally he arrived at a little white canopy with some of the Regent crew standing on the pier next to a large container ship. That was the dreaded ship that took our spot.

Apparently the hydrofoils had stopped so we were now using the ship’s tenders. It was a long wait and a long tender ride back, but we saw the ship’s concierge on the dock who told us to call immediately when we got on the ship and cancel our credit card, which we did. We arranged to have another one sent to the ship’s port agent in Hong Kong, or so we thought (it went to Hong Kong but was returned by UPS because the address was incomplete).

During the night the ship was able to dock (I guess enough hands were greased), so we just took a shuttle the next day. We went to the beautiful colonial post office building, walked by the unification square and government buildings and finally arrived back at the market. Of course many rickshaws around the market again, and I kept seeing Rickshaw Ricky every where I looked. Of course every rickshaw bike looks pretty much the same, and I was more than a bit paranoid at that point. Actually we never saw him, and when approached by new hawkers for another rickshaw ride, we just laughed. Finally, we made our way back to the tax department store, where the shuttle dropped us off. We discovered it is really a series of independent stores inside a bigger store. We had lunch overlooking the main square in a cute local coffee shop, walked around that area a bit and then took the shuttle back to the ship. We were not sorry to see Ho Chi Minh City fade into the distance as we pulled out of the port.

Bankok

April 21, 2009
On to Bangkok. It is Easter morning, and we started with a Joint Sunrise Service with the Roman Catholics. Ok, it wasn’t really sunrise. But it was early for the ship (7:30 a.m.) and I knew the early hour would cut down on our attendance. However, the first busload was supposed to leave for Bangkok around 8:30 a.m., so we really didn’t have much choice but to go for early. One of the singers for the ship’s production shows, Justin (who joined us when we went to the town of Russell in New Zealand), offered to sing a solo and he organized the other 3 singers to join him for an anthem. Unfortunately, he got sick the night before, possibly from food poisoning on Ko Somui. But he was there early still feeling quite rocky. He sang his solo beautifully with obvious feeling, and I told him later that his solo truly made Easter for me, knowing how he ill he was. We had maybe 22 people, but it was Easter and He is risen! I enjoy working with Father Tom and we had a good time with our dialogue sermon.

The drive to the city is usually about two and a half hours, but because it was both a Sunday and a Thai holiday (their New Year’s), we made it in less than three hours. The Four Seasons Hotel in Bangkok is well appointed inside. They greeted us with a Bangkok band playing local music as we entered, and they had the registration process quite well organized. We were able to check into our room before noon, and as we were walking to the elevator one of the hotel staff asked if there was anything we needed. Since that afternoon would be our only chance to go, we asked how we might go to the weekend market, a 45 acre extravaganza open only, as you might guess, on Saturday and Sunday. This lady not only got on the elevator with us but also was prepared to go back down get a map and bring it up to us. We declined her gracious offer and said we would pick it up on our way back down to lunch. Sure enough she was waiting for us with a map of the city showing the market circled and including directions on how to get there. Incredible service. Our room on the eight floor was spacious and well appointed, sporting an amazing bathroom with both and shower and a tub, and a nice view of a large green space next to the hotel. It did not take me long to realize it was a golf course, and I could sit and drool for hours as I watched the golfers playing by. Of course, I only watched for a few moments, and given the heat I did not feel too bad about not being able to play.

We had a delicious albeit spicy buffet lunch and headed for sky train right outside the door of the hotel. In a few stops we were there. It was everything you could want in a huge public market, except for some air conditioning. This was our hottest day so far, with temperatures above the 100 degree mark. We were dazzled by the huge variety of goods, and yes gave into a few shirt and scarf bargains, but we were melting quickly in the intense heat and humidity, especially as much of the stalls were in an inside area with little ventilation. Ronnie went to sit in the shade in the park across the street as I went back for one last look around, returning to find her attacked by a group of small red ants! After much wiping and shaking off of the ants, we promptly got back on the Sky Train and headed back to the hotel. It was a perfect day for a swim and the hotel had an amazing pool in a well appointed courtyard, but guess what? No swim suit. As Ronnie rested in the room, I inquired if there might be anything open late on a Sunday afternoon. One stop away on the sky train there was a night market. To make a long story short, I went; I hurriedly bought a suit in a store advertising 60% off, and returned. Only problem, there sizes are totally different from ours, and the medium I bought for more $ than I realized with the currency conversion was so small it would hardly fit a 12 year old child. I called it Don’s folly!

In any case we had a nice nap in our cool air conditioned room and went down for another abundant buffet meal of mostly spicy Thai food. We would pay later for the spiciness, if you get my drift. The dinner included an excellent performance by masked Thai dancers (see photo with Ronnie). At this point we heard a little bit about the red shirt protestors and the street confrontations going on in some parts of the city. We had seen nothing, however, and decided to go for a walk after dinner with a friend from the ship whose husband had not come to Bangkok. We strolled by a small street corner Buddhist shrine, with many people buying flowers and statues to offer to the Buddha. We did notice a strong police presence and went up to an elevated walkway from which we could look down at the city streets, including some government buildings with a large poster of the king decked out in full regalia. Apparently even the protestors love the king even if they don’t like the prime minister, but he is aging and no one knows what will happen if he should die. Again, we saw no redshirts, but a policeman waved to us from the distance to go back, so we did.

The next morning at breakfast we heard from some of our shipmates that the red shirt confrontations had gotten violent during the night and they were taking the early bus back to the port. However, as it was our only day in Bangkok we wanted to see a few of the sights, and we thought the ship staff would not leave us in the city unless they felt it was safe, so we headed for the Sky Train again. This time the lady at the change booth asked our age, which we thought was strange. Although the language barrier was a real challenge, we finally realized she was offering us a free ride on the train. Apparently our advancing age qualified us for these special passes, and of course we didn’t argue! After a riding about 7 or so stops, we arrived at the river where we had heard there was a cheap water taxi that would take us down the river to the some of the temples, the ancient palace, and the emerald Buddha. There were a number of hawkers offering tourist river tours, but the concierge at the hotel had shown me a photo of the water taxi and told us to avoid the others. So we waited a few minutes for a good size boat that was more like a small ferry. It provided some great views as we travelled down the river of many hotels, temples, restaurants and other river front attractions. We arrived at our stop a few blocks from the old palace complex. The whole ride cost us less than one US dollar each.

The place was packed with tourists, and I could spend pages describing the palace complex and the emerald Buddha. In sum it was another overwhelming experience, with new vistas of opulent and colorful temples and palace buildings at every turn. I could not believe so much beautiful architecture could be packed into such a relatively small a space (of course it is several acres, but it is jam packed). To see the emerald Buddha, you must have your legs covered and your shoes off, all strictly enforced. Ronnie had to rent a shawl to put around her legs, and we were reprimanded not to point our toes toward the Buddha as that is disrespectful as well. No photos, of course, and the Buddha is on a high ornate decorated platform, smaller than I expected, but none the less quite emerald and striking. Another water taxi ride back and we took the sky train to my discount swim suit store stop, only to find the store closed for the New Year holiday. Oh well, we ended up giving it to one of the small Indian waiters on the ship, who appreciate it very much and later told us it fit him well. I guess Don’s folly helped someone anyway!

Since we knew the only place to have lunch near the hotel would be at the hotel, and not wanting to relive the spicy food aftermath of the night before, we actually went to a McDonald’s for lunch. Ok, please don’t bother us with the irony of eating McDonald’s in Thailand. A calm digestive system was worth it at that point. The only challenge was getting to the entrance as we exited from the elevated Sky Train platform. You see, this area was packed with New Year’s revelers, all gleefully shooting each other with water canons, applying some kind of gray powder or clay to their faces and actually throwing buckets of water on each other. The street was lined with street merchants selling the colorful water canons, water, and clay in packages.

It’s a blessing to get doused of course, but we were not in the mood for that kind of blessing and did not want to have our only set of clothing sopping wet for the bus ride back to the port. We only made it to the door and back to the sky train by staring down some eager water throwers. Actually one reveler was inches a way from putting some of the gray stuff on Ronnie’s cheeks, but you can imagine that despite the language barrier she made it clear to him that he would be sorry if he did so! As we waited on the elevated platform for the Sky Train, it was kind of fun to watch the revelers below. There were, of course, some stupid Americans (or possibly Europeans) gleefully joining in the mass water chaos. We made it back to the hotel in plenty of time for the 2:30 bus to the ship, and despite all our travels in the city and the long bus ride out of the city, we never saw any redshirts or any demonstrations. Even on the roads there were people with fire hoses dousing the passing cars and trucks. They do take this New Year’s water festival quite seriously!

Ko Samui, Thailand

April 17, 2009
Ko Samui, a resort island of Thailand, was a different story from Singapore. We had good transportation and a truly enjoyable day. Right on the pier where the tender docked we found a driver who agreed to take us on a four hour all around the island for $60. He was nice young man we thought to be in his 20s, but turned out to be 35. We saw photos of his young children who were adorable. First stop was the “Big Buddha,” a huge golden Buddha visible for miles around on an island promontory. We climbed many steps some of which were still wet from rain before we arrived. Like the Christ statue in Rio, the Big Buddha overwhelmed us with its size. You must remove shoes and cover knees in front of a Buddha, never pointing your toes at the statue. So I wore long pants and Ronnie had a sarong to cover her knees. However, many people were there with short shorts, so restrictions were not well enforced. We looked at the pretty view from the statue platform and saw a few side devotional areas.

Next was a place called Chaweng, a beach town with a beautiful wide sandy beach. Many tourists were basking in the sun and taking a dip in the warm water. Probably the most impressive thing we saw was a large group of people having messages under a covered pavilion right in front of the beach. How about a half hour message for $10? I wished we had more time! From there we went to a look out with a beautiful view of the bay below. We saw a man selling home made coconut ice cream, and since we had no Thai money, our drive paid for our ice cream (a cup for about 50 cents US), which was refreshing and delicious. On to the mummified body of a Buddhist holy man next to a beautiful temple. He died in the lotus position while meditating and his body shows minimal signs of deterioration over the 30 years or so since. We then tried to find the Coral Buddha, naturally carved out of coral by water, but our guide did not know and even after asking around we were unable to locate it.

Oh, well on we went to a beautiful waterfall called Namaung. I actually climbed down the rocks to get close, where there were people literally sitting in the waterfall with the water falling all over them. On the way back to the taxi we saw the elephants, and I took some photos. People were riding on them, and neither one of us really had a desire to do so. But Ronnie encouraged me to try it. We asked about the price and they told us $10, so I decided to go ahead. Up I went to a platform where the elephant came by with a driver riding on its neck. I got into a padded seat big enough for 2 people and hung on for dear life. Ronnie was on the platform frantically trying to take photos of me on the elephant. First the elephant walked through a forest over fallen trees and then back to the river where the elephant plunged right into a shallow area. Then, much to my horror the driver got off and I was left on the elephant by myself! He asked for my camera, then told me to get off the chair and sit in his spot on the neck of the animal. He was snapping pictures like crazy with my camera when I obediently got on the neck. At which point the elephant reared back its trunk toward me and seemed to take a good sniff. I guess it was like a dog smelling your hand, but this was a big trunk and I felt more like it was sniffing out its next meal! Indeed the elephant did not seem all that happy with me on his neck. How did I know? I’ve never been on a bucking bronco, but I now know something about what it must be like. The elephant was going up and down enough that I was concerned, and the driver had to tap (whack?) it with his stick a couple of times to get the thing to behave. As with the Komodo dragons, I failed to see what the little stick would do if the animal was determined to take off on its own.

Even worse, the driver then proceeded to have the elephant bow down, lift up, open its mouth and a few other maneuvers (I guess for more photo ops). At this point I was ready to get off, and thankfully the driver finally got back on and we headed back to the mount/dismount platform. Before we got there the drive asked for a tip for himself “and one for the elephant.” I saw the logic in his maneuver, since my getting back to the platform was dependent on his steering the elephant in the right direction. He basically wanted the equivalent of $3 for himself and the same for the elephant. I just gave him $3 thinking that would satisfy and the elephant would not know the difference, but no, the driver kept at it insisting that the elephant was insulted at not getting a tip. I certainly did not want to insult the elephant (as I know the driver was counting on) and I was eager enough to get off that I coughed up another $3. Yes, he had my number, along with how many other tourists he had scammed. So my $10 ride ended up costing $16. Oh well, I can now say I have ridden on elephant, and believe me, once was enough. And I have the pictures to show for it!

Of course, having ridden the elephant, we couldn’t resist the cute little $10 wooden elephant made from a coconut shell. Yes, we’ve given up worrying about where all the stuff will go. I guess we’ll be doing some serious shipping before we get on the plane to go home. We got back to the port in a little less than 4 hours, and we happily gave our taxi driver a good tip. We walked around the port town a bit, and ran right into a hair salon. We went in to ask about the price of a cut, and a beautiful lady appeared from the back saying about $5 for each of us, but she was in the middle of a shampoo and it would be a few minutes. We sat down to wait, and then when it appeared that it was going to take more than a few minutes, told the lady we would go for a walk and come back. I guess worried about losing a sale, she left the guy in the back (who was lying on a table with his head over a sink) in the middle of his shampoo and cut my hair. Then she cut Ronnie’s as well. Both good cuts. Poor guy on the table, though. We never heard a peep out of him, so I guess he had a lot of patience. As we looked around the town some more, the prices in the shops seemed quite reasonable, but we didn’t see anything appealing (yippee!) so we went back to the ship.

Singapore

Singapore
After two more sea days we arrived in Singapore. We left the ship as early as possible, which was a little after nine as we were a little late in docking. A friend from the ship, Gigi, had told us she wanted to go with us. We warned her about our fast pace, but she was undeterred, so we went ashore together. We went to buy a day pass on the subway, called the MRT, but the window to sell the tickets didn’t open until 10 a.m. Rather than wait around we decided to take the complementary ship’s shuttle into town. It took about a half hour to get there, and then we debated with Gigi and also Judy and Erica, who just happened to be on the same shuttle, about the best way to get around town. We passed up a taxi driver who wanted something like $30 a piece in favor of another hop-on-hop-off bus for $12.

We walked by huge stores on Orchard Street, the main shopping drag, mostly upscale, selling everything from Gucci to Volvo. At the tourist information center, the woman was so sweet and wanted to explain in detail what to do at every stop on the bus. Finally I was concerned that we would miss the bus because of her long explanations, so we bought our tickets and headed for the stop. Indeed the other lady in the info center said the bus would there any minute. While we were waiting Ronnie was shopping at a sidewalk jeweler selling pearls, diamonds, etc.

Instead of a couple of minutes, it was more like 10 or 15 minutes, which should have been a clue to us. You see, what we found is that the published schedule bears absolutely no resemblance to when the bus actually arrives and leaves. The bus was supposed to come every 30 minutes on the hour and half hour, but many times during the day we ended up waiting 40 minutes or more because one bus was early and the next one late. Anyway, we did a walking tour of both Little India and Chinatown. Little India was a disappointment despite the many small shops and vendors. So much incense that it was oppressive, and most of the items for sale did not interest us in the least. Yipee! Chinatown was more what we had expected in Little India, with a pedestrian street lined with many markets stalls selling merchandise at reasonable prices. However, we restrained ourselves, except for buying a few gifts for people on the ship, since we knew we were going to be in China soon.

In between we visited the famous Raffles Hotel, named for the British man who first developed Singapore. Quite an impressive colonial building, but we were quite put off by the sign at the front that only registered guests were allowed in the lobby. We looked around the gift shop and saw a sign for a lunch buffet. We inquired about the price and headed for the exit rather quickly left when they told us $55 a person. For lunch we ended up at a place called Esplanade, a pretty harbor area on the water, and ate a good meal at a Thai restaurant overlooking Marina Bay. We also visited St. Andrew’s Cathedral, a totally white building covered with a local stucco. The cathedral was full of school children, mostly teenagers, in uniform, and the school head and archbishop were leading the service for some important occasion.

After Chinatown, which included long walks to a couple of temples, we were tired and tried to figure out the fastest way to get back to the ship. It turns out that if we had just taken a taxi from there we would have gotten there quickly. Instead we got on the hop-on bus again after another long wait, and thought we would go back to where we could pick up the ship’s shuttle. Then we missed the stop near the shuttle stop because the driver merely did a “drive-by” stop and it was gone before we knew it. It was going to loop back around again, but by that time we would miss the shuttle, only running every hour at that point. So, Ronnie suggested we get off and take the MRT.

We found the MRT less than a block away, which was packed with rush hour passengers. We bought our tickets at a machine, guessing which stop was the one near the port. After we packed into the train, Ronnie asked a few people and found we had the wrong stop. To get to the right one we had to transfer twice. We finally arrived at the stop near the ship, and had to find a sympathetic fellow at the booth who helped us add enough money to our cards to get out even though we did not have enough change. We got money back for turning the card in and paid the fellow back. After some searching in the port mall we got Ronnie a Starbucks! I also stayed a few more minutes to use up our Singapore money. We were frustrated in our visit by the heat and the transportation difficulties, and don’t have a great desire to return there.

Bali

April 14, 2009
To catch up on other recent ports, I will deal with Bali first. Bali is a beautiful island with lovely people and amazing arts and crafts. It is actually a part of Indonesian, but especially unique as the only Hindu island among the 14000+ islands of that country. We had made arrangements ahead of time with the brother of one of our waiters to drive us for 8 hours all over the island. We felt quite welcomed as we got off the tender and there was a band and a number of pretty women forming a corridor for us to walk on the dock. And then it hits. The taxi drivers and the vendors literally assaulting us, even grabbing us or throwing their wares at us saying “free, free!” No matter how hard we try to say no, they kept up their assault. We did see our man with a sign “Mr. Ronnie Goodheart,” and we were happy to have him rescue us from the chaos. The vendors, by the way, have a particular bait and switch tactic – they try to get your attention with a very low price (“Only a dollar! Only a dollar!”) and then if you bite, they will immediately change the price to $10, saying “No, no” if you try to go back to the original price. I noticed myself feeling confused enough by the assault that I wondered if I heard them right at the beginning.

Our driver took us and the couple we had arranged to share the tour with (the craft lady Judy and her daughter Erica) to a fairly new air conditioned Toyota van with a driver already in place (they drive on the left side of the road British style). So we had both a guide and a driver. Our driver’s name was I Wayan, pronounced “EEE why on,” which means either first born or fifth born. Ours was fifth born, and he spoke quite passable English which he had picked up from English speaking visitors. We never did figure out how it works in a school, when there must be a lot of first and fifth borns all going by I Wayan.

We first wanted to go to Obud, the central craft area of the island. Obud is not really a city as we would think of one, but a spread out group of villages or sections all specializing in a particular craft. These crafts, whether it be stone work, painting, batik, or woodworking, are all passed on from generation to generation. So if you family does woodworking, you know what you will do as well. These are true craftsmen, not producing souvenirs for a mass market, but creating works of art. We did visit a number of the sections, and went to a representative store or groups of stores in a couple of sections. We loved the paintings the most, and after much negotiating we purchasing one by an artist whose work we really stood out above the rest. Don’t worry, it is small and light and we had it taken out of the frame. In the woodworking area of town our friends bought some beautiful carved wood pieces, including a mirror with an incredible wood frame.

We also visited some Hindu temples, and the impressive Hall of Justice (Kerta Gosa) in Klungkung, the former dynastic capital, seeing some amazing statues on the way. Both Kerta Gosa and Bale Kampang (the Floating Pavilion with an incredible painted ceiling) were destroyed by the Dutch during their occupation and then rebuilt by the remorseful Dutch two decades later. We had an excellent lunch at a restaurant overlooking some pretty rice fields. Then on the way home, when we had stopped at one temple near the beach, where we saw two processions, carrying icons and statues to the temple. I Wayan explained they were worship processions. All in all we were very pleased with a pleasant day in Bali, except of course, for the aggressive vendors. Our guide and driver were outstanding and we wished we had more time there.

Bankok Emergency Update

Happy Easter! Christ is risen indeed! I am in the process of updating the blog, but in case any of you had seen the news reports about the demonstrations and security concerns in Bangkok, I wanted to reassure you the we are safe and leaving Thailand at this very moment. Yes, there were violent demonstrations while we there, and some of our group did stumble into some of the “red shirts,” as the protestors are called. However, today we went to quite a few locations in the downtown area on both the sky train and the river taxi and saw nothing. We even took a walk last night a few blocks from our hotel, but again everything seemed quiet other than a fairly strong police presence and one policeman ahead of us who waved us to turn back.

We never felt unsafe, and sometimes I wonder if the media don’t blow things out of proportion and help the protestors cause because of the exposure they give them. I don’t doubt that there were some violent confrontations, but it did not seem to affect the city in general. Indeed, most of the people continued with their happy observance of the Thai New Year, celebrating in the streets and throwing water on each other and any one who walked by. We seemed to be able to avoid getting doused, although one little boy squirted us with his squirt canon. Actually, getting wet is supposed to be a blessing and actually provides some relief to the 100 degree heat. If we thought Darwin was hot, it could not hold a candle to Bangkok. More later, but in the meantime, Easter blessings.

Komodo Island

April 9, 2009
After a couple of more sea days we arrived at a strange little island that is actually part of Indonesia. But I need to make a slight diversion first, because something unusual happened during one of the sea days while we were off the coast of Australia. Ronnie put her name in for a drawing at the Boutique because there was a representative on from a jeweler on board who specialized in opals. We saw opals all over the place in Darwin in particular. You had to be present to win, and Ronnie almost didn’t go to the drawing, but at the last minute she decided to go because she needed to buy a couple of things at the Boutique. So, they drew a name, and no, it wasn’t Ronnie’s. But the person was not present so they drew another. That person was not present, so they drew another. This happened a couple of more times and then they asked Ronnie to draw a name. She declined so one of the sales people at the boutique, a young man named Alex who has been sweet to us drew a name. He looked at and then came and showed it to Ronnie. She let out a scream that you could hear for quite a distance. Everyone thought something terrible had happened, but no, it wasn’t that kind of a scream. You may have guessed that Alex indeed had picked her name.

Back to the island. It is called Komodo Island and it is home of one of the strangest creatures in the world today. The Komodo dragon is not really a dragon at all, but a huge lizard. And I mean these things are big, weighing many hundreds of pounds and up to 20 feet in length. We took a tender to the island after lunch since the ship arrived around noon. We were in group number one, and Ronnie was petrified that the dragons would go after her, so she was close to the ranger the whole time. Of course he only had this long stick to ward off the dragons, and we were not convinced that was enough to deter one of these larger creatures. A passenger had to tell us the story of a crew member who got too close to the dragons a few years ago and was eaten alive . In addition, being close to the equator, Komodo is quite hot, and we were dressed for the heat. Of course someone had to tell us that shorts were not a good idea because of scorpions along the trail. We both had shorts on.

Then when we were walking along the trail the guide had to tell us that the baby dragons actually lived up in the trees for the first few years to avoid being eaten by the adults (yes, they are cannibals as well as carnivores). So we walked along, constantly looking at sides of the trail for scorpions, looking up at the trees for baby dragons, and of course scanning the area for any adult dragons. Then the ranger would stop and tell us something about the flora and fauna. We would just as soon he kept on. We finally arrived at treed section where there a number of rangers with sticks and a small rope behind which were, you guessed it, some dragons. A big sign said “Quiet!” We watched them for a while and one actually got up to move. One of our group let out a scream (What happened to quiet?, but it was not about the dragons – she saw some beautiful bird.

Back on the trial they handed out some cold bottles of water. I could tell how hot Ronnie was so I put the bottle next to her neck to cool her off. Big mistake. Blood curling scream! I mean you could hear this for miles. She was sure a dragon had dropped out of the trees on her! Aside from that, no attacks by dragons or scorpions. But we did have a different kind of attack. At the end of the trail was a kind of market set up where, strangely enough they sold pearls. However, they didn’t just sell them: they were yelling at you, reaching for you, etc. We really did feel attacked. Ronnie and I had gotten separated, but when we found each other we settled on a couple of vendors and did hard bargaining for a few inexpensive pearls (light and small in the suitcase!). All in all, quite a day on Komodo island.

Darwin, Australia

April 7, 2009
HOT!! That is the primary word that I would use to describe Darwin, the northern most city in Australia. We docked fairly early in a new dock area under considerable development with a new passenger terminal, esplanade and many condos and shops under construction. We took a shuttle up the hill to the downtown area, and stopped at Tourist Information, noticing that it was already quite warm. From there we walked back down the hill (more like a cliff) to the entrance to the WWII oil storage tunnels underneath the city. Because of its strategic location, the city had its own Pearl Harbor, with massage Japanese bombing, sinking many ships in the harbor and blowing up many of the large oil storage tanks. The purpose of the tunnels was to provide a place to store oil where it could shielded from bombing. After millions of dollars spent on their construction, they were never used to store oil, although they did house some jet fuel toward the end of the war.

We walked in through an access tunnel on some mats since water was on the floor (yes, the tunnels leak!), and then saw one smaller tunnel through a window. Smaller is a relative term, since when we entered the larger tunnel, we discovered that it was both tall (15 or so feet) and long (more than the length of a football field, over a hundred meters). Along the tunnel at various intervals were displays of photographs of Darwin during WWII, including the Japanese bombings. Outside the tunnels Ronnie hailed the shuttle going by from the ship so that we would not have to walk back up the hill in the heat. Back in the center of town we walked a pedestrian mall and passed many of the Aboriginal people sitting on the sidewalk. At this point we began to experience Australian souvenir burnout, and nothing seemed to interest us. I considered a haircut, but the prices were $20+, so I passed.

The other attraction we had picked out ahead of time was a reef display, a kind of mini barrier reef in a form that you can see up close. Going out to the reef in glass bottoms boats you really don’t see the reef, so we didn’t do it in Cairns. We heard this was a good alternative, so we walked down the hill again in the increasing heat (felt like Florida to us) and out to a promontory of a dock where this Maritime exhibit is located. There was no one around and we had to ring a bell to get any attention. After a rather gruff man came out and told us the charge was $20 Australian (about $15 US) a person with no senior discount (yes, we have become better at asking for one). Sounded rather steep for what we saw from the lobby, so we talked it over a bit. Then Ronnie happened to find some discount coupons on the desk, so we decided to go ahead. However, the man had disappeared again. We rang and rang again and were about to leave when old Mr. Gruff reappeared. We purchased the discount tickets and it turned out to be a wise investment. We first watched a film about coral reefs and what is happening to them today. Very informative, especially about coral reproduction, although I have to admit I slept through some of it.

Without a doubt the best part was after the video when we were escorted into the self contained reef environments. The largest was a pool of water on a table about waste high and about 25 feet long, 10 feet across and several feet deep. The water in the tank had not been changed in 20+ years but it was absolutely clear. No food has been introduced into the ecosystem either as it totally self sustaining. We realized Mr. Gruff was actually just Mr. Intense, as he was a one man show and totally committed to the reef project that he and his wife had started. We learned more in a few minutes with him than I had ever know about coral or reefs. I had not realize that the hardened reefs are actually just skeletons of the living coral. We saw the living coral as it fed, and certain types as they opened and closed.

Of course there are so many different kinds of coral, mostly pretty non-descript in color, and if you see red or pink don’t get close as a sting can be fatal! In the ecosystem there were also fish, bright sponges, star fish and others. In another room they had more tanks filled with different kinds of coral and fish, and a magnifying plastic sheet that we used to see things up close. One of the tanks had water that had not been changed in 50 years, yet still looked clear and clean. A lot happens on a micro level in the coral environment and it is fascinating to watch it happen. In any case, we truly appreciated our time with the miniature barrier reef.

Around the Great Barrier Reef

April 1
Australia Continued
What a day! Here we are cruising by the Great Barrier Reef and suddenly we hear this huge bang and horrible scraping noise and the ship lurched like I have never seen before. Stuff fell off the shelves, glasses breaking everywhere, and people running around looking scared and wondering what was going on. Unbelievably we did what old Captain Cook did when he first came to the little town of Cooktown back in the 1770: hit the reef! Captain Cook dumped all their ballast and canons and finally got off the reef finding refuge at the bay now called Cooktown where they stayed several months and repaired the ship. Our captain did warn us that the area we were navigating was very shallow but we had on board a special pilot to guide us through the reef. Guess he missed. Now they have pumps working like crazy to try to keep ahead of the water and we have to find a port fast to get repairs. All right, you already guessed it: April Fool – we did not hit a reef; we are just fine, but we did go to Cooktown and now you know how it got its name.

We left Sydney at 11 p.m. and made our way up to coast to Newcastle where we spent the next morning. It is an old coal mining community, the source of that expression “coals to Newcastle.” When we arrived we were told it was a local holiday and there was a big funeral at the cathedral for a young man killed in Afghanistan. A shuttle bus took us on a brief tour around the town and to a nearby beach. We walked around the business district where a few shops were open, and the took the shuttle back to the beach area where we walked out on a promontory of land to the lighthouse. Honestly, there was not much to see there although the people were quite nice. Sailing away at 1 p.m. the locals saluted us with three shots from a canon on the hill above the beach.

After a couple more sea days we arrived at Cairns. The climate there was more like Florida, quite warm and humid. We felt right at home although others really noticed the heat. We debated whether to take one of the many promoted trips to the Great Barrier Reef or to go into the rain forest to the little mountain village of Kuranda. We are trying to save up for the overnights in Bangkok and Beijing, and since we live on the ocean we decided to pass on the reef and go take the bus to Kuranda. Someone told us about an inexpensive bus, even though most people were taking the train/and or sky tram for $113 a person. The bus turned out to be a nice air conditioned mini-bus that cost us $8 a piece round trip. It didn’t leave until 11:30 a.m. so we walked around the Cairns downtown area and I was able to get a new watch band since mine was totally falling apart. We also saw an amazing huge beach side pool and walked along the board walk by the ocean front.

The trip to Kuranda was an adventure. It took us about 45 minutes to get there and our driver was super nice (as most everyone from Australia has been) and he stopped at a lookout on the way so we could take some photos. We arrived at this quaint mountain village and knew we were going to enjoy our time there. We walked around the town with many shops selling native crafts (oh, no!) and then took the jungle walk into the rain forest. It reminded me of the rain forest in Costa Rica. Afterwards we saw the Koala Gardens wildlife park, and when they gave us the senior discount, we were there. Not only did we see koalas and kangaroos, but I got to hold one for the old sucker photo shoot. It was worth it. Ronnie actually stood next to me holding the koala for another photo, but as you can see from the photo she was a bit terrified. And I got to pet a kangaroo, and watch the little Joey (baby kangaroo) peeking its head out of the pouch. Priceless.

In the market next to the park was an Aboriginal man selling his own art work. And yes, big “Oh No” I could not resist one of his hand painted boomerangs, and wished I had taken a photo of him. It was about 3:15 and all of sudden everything was closing. Apparently the last train and sky tram left at 3 p.m. so everything just closes up. Luckily we had seen everything earlier, but we felt like we were in an instant ghost town. We did find a few places open, and then waited for the 4:15 bus which took us back to Cairns. After a lovely dinner on our balcony, we went back into the town and stumbled on something called “The Night Market.” It was just that: a market open late at night with all kinds of wares for sale at many stalls. Lots of message and jewelry booths. After a tour around we walked back to the ship with the fitness instructor. Okay, we did buy a couple of small items, but nothing really to add to our craft store.

After one sea day we arrived in Cooktown. One photo above overlooks Cooktown. We tendered ashore to this small town that looked like a throw back to a gold rush town in Colorado. Again not a lot to see, but I did get to hold a baby kangaroo for another photo op in a semi-museum kind of place. We saw the place where the Endeavor (Cook’s ship) beached for repairs and started to walk to the lighthouse until we realize how far it was. We still got a few photos from up on the hill, and in the middle our climb a kangaroo jumped out of the bush right in front of me (see photo above). Those things can move. Ronnie told me not to get too close, but it was much more wary of us and simply hopped away.

Again people complained about the heat, but we had brought plenty of water and soda from the ship, so we were fine and the heat didn’t really bother us. Ronnie didn’t like the Aboriginal art as much as I did, but even she appreciated this simple painting of some fish at a little stand on the way back to the ship. We had seen native paintings of that size (about 8 x 10) for $45-$200+, so this one for $20 was a true bargain. I talked with the artist for a while and realized I only had $15 Australian dollars on me, so, yes, she gave it to me for $15 ($11 US). Again I wish I had taken her photo, which I realized in the tender going back to the ship. A truly sweet lady. Don’t worry, it is just a canvass and takes up almost no room.

So now we are on the way to Darwin, the northern most city in Australia. A diverse and incredibly friendly county, from our experience.

Good news that my sister Karin is doing better, but please keep up your prayers.