I got a good night’s rest last night and awoke before Greg and Genene. It was probably 4:30 or so, but I felt rested. It was the best night’s sleep I have had so far. Our suite was large, so I took the opportunity to go out into the living room and get caught up on my blogging. I always begin to despair when I get two or three days behind. It gets to be more like work than pleasure. If I can keep the blog up as I go, it’s much easier. Anyway, I finished the Wednesday blog right as the sun came up. The birds were chirping, and I felt ready for anything.
Our hotel is stunning. We will get to come back here for one more night after the elephant camp, so perhaps we will get to enjoy more of it. We went down to breakfast, expecting the usual continental buffet. Not so fast, partners. We had a full service breakfast with three courses. Greg had some traditional rice soup that was very savory. I was in the mood for more American fare and had the fruits, waffles, eggs, bacon, and croissant. Best of all, the coffee was bottomless, although it was served in dainty cups.
Our driver arrived promptly at 8:00. We probably should have packed one bag and left the others at the hotel but alas…we had been very lazy the day before and weren’t that highly organized. We stuffed all the bags into the van and hopped aboard. There was another family in the car with us, a father and his two sons from San Luis Obispo, California. We rode along quietly together.
Our driver brought his daughter along. She might be a little older than Genene. It looks like she enjoys sleeping in the car too.
About 40 minutes out of town, we made a drive in grocery stop. Our driver picked up fresh fruit and dropped his daughter off. Maybe she was in school? I don’t know. We didn’t even get out of the car. The driver simply drove into the market, handed a list to someone, and soon the pineapples and fruits were in sacks and riding along with us.
We kept driving north and the city fell away. We saw rice paddies, palm trees, and mountains in the distance. A light rain was falling.
An unusual street sign:
We arrived at the camp a little after 9:00 AM. Our bags were carried to our rooms, and we followed right behind. We received a cloth tote bag and a mahout’s uniform. The uniform was a lightweight denim, cut with plenty of room for ventilation and for riding. I chose to wear compression pants underneath. They gave us a few minutes to get changed into our outfits and get our gear together. We met back at the visitor’s center, andd they gave us a few lessons in elephant commands and a safety briefing, which was amazingly short and sweet considering we were about to get up close and personal with animals whose weight are measured in tons.
The Thai Elephant Camp is proud of their reputation as one of the more humane elephant camps. We would be riding “bareback.” Other camps use the large basket and allow up to three people on board. Our guides said that was too much weight for an elephant to carry. They also allow only one guest per elephant, so the experience remains an intimate one. We each would get one elephant to ride. There are only 13 elephants at the camp, so no more than 13 people can be here at any given time. On our trip today, we were with a honeymooning couple, a family of four from Paris, and the father and his two sons who rode up with us.
The camp made no bones about the fact that they do use an elephant hook. The hook is just what it sounds like: a wooden stick with a large metal hook (about 3 inches long) on the end. Our guide explained that the hook is not used often but is necessary for training. He said, “These are animals. They have a heart. They are not machines. Sometimes, they may have a bad day or may feel aggressive. They must be taught to respect us and do as we command. Otherwise, they could just hurt or kill us.” I was satisfied with his explanation. I did see the hook used from time to time, but most of the time it was turned on its flat side. The few times I saw the hook end used, it was a light, attention-getting tap. I don’t deceive myself enough to think that the animals have never had the sharp end used on them, but our guide told us that was reserved for really bad behavior. He also told us that if an elephant is in musth or is having a bad day for any reason, they just send it back to the paddock for the day.
We reviewed our command words. The big six for today were body down, go up, go, stop, turn, and retrieve. A real mahout uses over 70 commands.
We signed our waivers, which basically said that we understood that we were taking our lives into our hands and that they had a $500,000 insurance policy on us. I guess that would get our remains repatriated and pay for a nice funeral.
We stopped briefly to pay respect to Ganesha, the elephant god. Our guide would be asking Ganesha for a good ride, a safe ride. He told us that if our religion strictly prohibited this, it is okay not to participate. We stood respectfully by as he lit incense, clasped his hands together prayfully and stood silent for a few moments.
We each got a basket of cut sugar cane and went down a short hill to the paddock to meet the elephants. We lined up along a rail fence and they came to us, with their real mahouts on board. They snatched and grabbed the crunchy sweet cane from our hands with their trunks.
The mahouts demonstrated the four ways to mount the mahout. This last one is reserved for the pros.
We practiced riding around the paddock area, and it was much harder than I thought. Obviously you are a lot higher up than when riding a horse. I’ve ridden a lot of bareback horses, but the elephant is different. We were told that the best spot is to ride up on the neck, not on the shoulders. The top of the elephant’s head is right in front of you. Unlike a horse, you can actually wrap your legs around the elephant’s neck and grip some.
Genene made it look easy. I wish I were 11 again sometimes, though I could do without the puberty mess. I’d settle for being 35 again.
One of Genene’s favorite early childhood books was called “Everybody Poops.” One of the lines is, “An elephant makes a big poop.” Yes, it does…and a big pee too. The guides said jokingly that they use the pee in Chang beer.
With just a couple of minutes of practice, we started our journey. We rode right into the jungle. At first, I thought it was going to be a very long day because I felt wobbly on top of my ride, a good sized girl named TJ. Greg was aboard Scooby Doo, and Genene had Hero. I wonder how many people actually fall off their elephants. It seemed easily possible. There was a rope around their bellies, but you had to reach behind you to hold on. I tried that for a while, but it seemed awkward. Adding to the tension was the fact that we were walking up and down slippery trails with sharp drop-offs on one side or the other. If the elephant turned her head out over the hillside, you were quite literally dangling out into space. That took some getting used to. I was amazed at how sure-footed the elephants were. The trails were slick with mud, but the elephants never slipped. They walked very slowly and put each foot down in the right spot.
After several minutes, the tension just melted away, and I began to feel the rhythm of TJ’s steps. The elephants also wear bells. When they range in the jungle, the bell helps the mahout to locate his elephant. The bell also helps people not to be surprised by walking up on a strange elephant, which could be dangerous. There’s nothing much to do on the elephant’s back except watch the scenery and listen to the soft tink-tink of the bell.
The elephants remind me of horses in one way: they love to eat and will try to do so as they walk along. Our guide told us that elephants sleep about five hours a night, laying down on their sides. The rest of the time they spend eating and pooping. They would walk a few steps, stick their trunks out on the side of the trail, and snag a bite. The command to go (pbai or huy) was a constant refrain from the mahouts. My elephant, TJ, was bringing up the rear, and she was very smart. She realized that she could get away with eating a lot more if she rushed up right behind the elephant in front of her. As long as the elephant train was stopped, her mahout wouldn’t fuss at her for eating so she could munch away.
We got to a river crossing. The mahouts mounted the elephants with us so they could stay dry while crossing.
Genene’s elephant gave her a nice spray.
We rode for a couple of hours to a lunch stop.
We had pad thai wrapped in a big banana leaf. It was delicious.
We also had fresh rambutan, a very odd looking fruit whose flavor was akin to a grape.
After lunch we got elephant kisses. We sat down and the elephant extended her trunk, made a suction on our face, and smack! The elephant must be careful not to get an entire ear. They could easily pop an eardrum. The noise from the trunk was actually a little disconcerting. It sounded like a wind coming down a long pipe. Come to think of it, that’s exactly what it is.
After lunch, it was time for the mud spa. Our guide picked one elephant (they take turns), and she laid down in the dark gray clay. We rubbed her entire body with it, stem to stern.
The humans got to use the black clay on our faces too. We spread it on our entire faces and let it dry into a hard pack. The honeymooner girl had appeared this morning in full make-up, gold sandals, and painted fingernails. She didn’t let her hubby spread the mud all over her. I thought it odd that she got all fixed up to go ride an elephant, but to each his own. I look for any excuse NOT to wear makeup.
We climbed back aboard and kept riding through the jungle, our faces still black with mud.
TJ reached up from time to time. I think she wanted to know if I still had any sugar cane.
Sugar cane?
We got to the river again, and this time we stopped to play.
The mahouts said, “Map long” right in the middle of the river, and our elephants went down and we all got soaking wet.
We splashed and squealed and threw water on ourselves and our elephants. We washed off the clay masks. The mahouts threw water on one another. We took turns getting lifted up by the trunks.
The river was cool and refreshing. The water was flowing swiftly but not so strong that you couldn’t stand and walk. We squealed and laughed. The crossing was a popular spot, and we saw several people riding the elephants on the baskets. The folks in the baskets looked at us with clear jealousy in their eyes. After all, they were essentially riding along on a moving park bench while we were swimming in the river with “our” elephants.
We rode through people’s backyards.
Flooding the fields:
We got back to camp at about 3:30 PM. Genene and I were exhilarated with the experience. Surprisingly, Greg was not as enthusiastic. He had never really learned to relax on Scooby Doo and was consequently exhausted. He has never been a horseback rider, so perhaps that was why he wasn’t as comfortable. Some of the guides theorized that Scooby Doo likes to look around a lot and maybe all that side to side motion was disconcerting.
Our cabin was very basic, and the shower had a simple electric heater that merely knocked the cold off the water. Genene and I took warm showers, and Greg’s lucky continued to hold when we threw a breaker and the electricity went off right before he started his shower. He couldn’t take the ice cold water and elected to walk to the day showers a short distance away.
At 4:30, our guides taught us how to make a mahout dinner. Greg was much more in his element working with food. There are times when the elephant and mahout used to go into the jungle together, although our elephants were chained in the paddock below us. When in the jungle, the elephant may be allowed to range and might get a good distance from the mahout. No worries. All you need for a night in the jungle is some water, rice, a bamboo stick and fire. We stuffed the bamboo sticks with rice until about 3 inches from the top.
Keep it packed loose so that the water can get all the way to the bottom. Pour water in to the top. Roast on a fire for half an hour and voila: sticky rice.
At 8:30 we went down for the night feeding, and then we were off to bed. We were all exhausted but Greg was particularly ragged out. He was snoring within seconds. The bed was very hard, so I had a little more trouble going down. We had no sheets on the bed, just a light blanket. It was all we needed. I was very sore. Tomorrow we will get to play with the babies so we will get a day off from riding. I could hear the soft tink-tink of the elephant bells and the occasional elephant grunt as I drifted off to sleep. It was a great day.
Ken told us to have our bags outside the hotel room door at 6:30 and he would take care of the rest. By the time we finished our breakfast, he had them loaded on the cart, and we were off to the airport by 7:00 AM.
Last look at Bangkok from our hotel balcony. We could have easily spent the entire vacation in this great city.
Soaking up the last bits of wifi before hitting the road.
We have been traveling by private transport, and all of the minivans have been roomy, air conditioned and comfortable. The one we were in this morning was even more “bling bling” than usual. It had bright lights, wine bottles and glasses, curtains, a fold-down big screen TV, and pillows. I'm certain at night this baby has another life taking the party set around town. We weren't in the mood for bright lights or red wine (even I have my limits, and I usually don't start before noon.)
Ken pointed out a few sights on the way to the airport. Traffic was very heavy. The city has seven million cars and ten million scooters, and it looked like every single one of them was out in force this morning. I am not exaggerating to say that their traffic makes Houston look like a drive in the countryside. Our drivers have all been amazing. I would certainly have wet my pants if I had to drive. The lane lines seem to be mere suggestions, and the scooters dart in and out of spaces with clearances that measure in single digit centimeters. At one point, Ken joked that one of the drivers had 10 eyes that he used for his job.
We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, and Ken escorted us all the way through checkin and to the security area. We gave him our spare water bottle, a parting tip, and our sincere thanks for a job well done. He was gracious, professional and accomodating in every way. He told us only a little about his family life. We know that he has a 14 year old son and that his days start early and sometimes end late. To get to us each morning, he wakes up at 5:30 and catches a minibus into town to beat the traffic. We would often run into him while going to breakfast, well before our appointed meeting time. His job involves a lot of waiting: waiting for the day to start, waiting while we have lunch, waiting while we go on bike rides, waiting….
A word about language: the Thai alphabet has 44 letters. The language sounds are tonal and may be rising, falling, mid tone, low tone, high tone, short, long. For instance, an “ah” sound isn't just an “ah” sound. It may rise at the end, fall at the end, remain constant, or God knows what else. The differences are too subtle for my ear. Ken told us about a word that sounds like the sheep sound: baa. (I have no idea how it is really spelled.) He told me that the word has seven different sounds and something like 14 different meanings. He went through the litany of them, and he sounded like a little lamb to me. Each one sounded exactly the same to me, but he claimed they were clearly different words. I have learned to say hello and thank you, and that's my repertoire. The bike guide said my accent was pretty good. I think the key is to almost sing it more than say it. The language has a very sing-song quality about it. I can't describe it any more than that. English seems to be spoken pretty universally in Bangkok, and many signs have English translations. We had no trouble getting around on the streets or the airport. I would not have wanted to drive though. The street signs were often incomprehensible.
Anyway, back to the airport. Don't you love priority seating?
Our flight left on time. The flight to Chiang Mai was only about an hour long, but in that time, they managed to serve us a little lunch, water orange juice and a moist towelette. Bangkok Airways is a big step ahead of Southwest, where you are lucky to get a bag of peanuts tossed at you on a short flight.
Vicky (or was it Nicky; we were never sure) met us at the airport, and our tour started immediately. She told us that the people of the north were La Na people, not really Thai. The La Na kingdom dates back from the 13th century, so the history and traditions are ancient. She said in Chiang Mai the locals would not understand English. She said the north is sometimes called the land of the smiles, but she says they are smiling because they don't know any English so the smile is all they've got. I guess I can smile right back at them.
Our first stop was Wat Prathat Doi Suthep, a temple located at the top of Mount Doi Suthep, which is 5,500 feet tall. She gave us a choice of taking the 300 steps flanked by nagas (a kind of serpent) or riding the cable car. We chose the exercise and hoofed it to the top. Midway up, a Thai (or was he La Na?) man was singing with his guitar. He was giving us a little John Denver “Country Roads.” I helped him out with “West Virginia, mountain momma, take me home.”
The wind made the bells tinkle, and it is a very soothing sound.
Will the real Emerald Budddha please stand up?
This fellow was hanging out on the side of the building. I think I saw his brother on a food cart in Bangkok.
There is a Buddha for every day of the week. Genene was born on Sunday, as was Greg, so their Buddha stands in pensive thought, his right hand over his left. I was born on Tuesday, so my Buddha is the reclining Buddha. That's fitting for me. I like to lay around a lot and read.
Genene scoops the oil from the trough below and pours it into the candle to keep her Sunday Buddha lit.
The views on a clear day from Mount Doi Suthep must be breathtaking. We had clouds and rain, so our view of Chiang Mai was more obscured.
Here's an image of Mother Earth, getting ready to squeeze out her hair and wash those demons away.
Ganesha is a Hindu Buddhist deity. One version of the story says he got his elephant head after his father did not recognize him and killed him by beheading in battle. Shiva put the elephant head on him and breathed new life into him. He is considered a remover of obstacles. Vicky/Nicky called him the Buddha of success. Actresses and performers who want to become famous pay respect to Ganesha.
Can you see the names on each of the roof tiles? Temple donors.
We finished at the mountaintop and continued on to Chiang Mai and Wat U Mong, a forest monastery. It was very quiet and serene here.
The small passageways put me in the mind of the catacombs in Paris or Rome, only without the bodies. Buddhist people are cremated after death. If the family has wealth, the ashes may be stored at a temple. If there is no money for donation to the temple, the ashes may be poured in the river.
Nicky (or was it Vicky?) explained that all of the objects in the garden have been brought by people who want to rid themselves of bad luck. If a relic such as a Buddha image or a spirit house is broken, it is bad luck to simply throw it away. It must be brought to the temple. Also, if a Thai person buys something for their home and then has bad luck, they may come to believe that the object has a bad spirit and brought the bad luck to them. To remove the bad luck, the object must be brought and left at the temple. Bad luck is thus left at the temple.
Greg called it the “island of misfit toys,” hearkening back to our Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer days.
I love the way the afternoon light kissed the Buddha's head.
Even the bathrooms are segregated.
Toilet and manual flusher.
There were chickens and roosters everywhere. VIcky/Nicky explained that people make offerings of live chickens to the monks and at the temple. The monks do not kill them and must feed and care for them. We saw eggs laying on the ground. I wonder if the monks eat omelettes?
We finished our tour and Vicky/Nicky showed us to our hotel at about 3:30, with the rest of the afternoon and evening free to explore the city on our own.
It is a simply spectacular hotel, and our suite is to die for. This is the living room.
This is our balcony, which covers the entire second floor in this building.
There are two bedrooms and two baths, one with a sunken tub. No more waiting in line for the toilet today!
We had a very late lunch. Crispy fried pork was the bomb.
It is considerably cooler here in Chiang Mai, and thus I felt emboldened to have two glasses of red wine with lunch. It's the first thing other than beer that I have had. It was probably a mistake because it made me lethargic. I haven't been getting much sleep. I often wake up in the middle of the night and work on my blogs. Today, it caught up with me. I took a hot bath and fell asleep in the tub. I tried to blog in our suite. I nodded off. I went out on the balcony. I nodded off. I went back inside, climbed into bed and took a nap that lasted until 8:00 PM. Greg was also tired and content to nap and read. Genene watched videos and read her book. Our grand plans to explore Chiang Mai turned into a rest and recharge afternoon and evening, and it was wonderful. When we all came to the surface at about 8:30 PM, we ordered room service and stayed in our robes. We will be back in Chiang Mai after our elephant camp experience, so perhaps we will get to explore a bit more then. I will probably feel a little embarrassed when the tour guides ask us what we did on our own and we say, “Eat, sleep, repeat.”
I feel recharged. It's 6:00 AM on Thursday morning, and I've been up for about an hour catching up the last blog. The sun is coming up, and I can hear the birds singing. We will have breakfast and then move out of our fancy suite and into the elephant camp. We will have three days and two nights there, and each of us will get our own ellie to care for and feed. There will be no air conditioning, no wifi. I will be off the grid for a few days. We are looking forward to meeting our elephants.
Our day started early at 8:00 AM. Ken and driver met us at the hotel and transferred us to a bicycle shop so we could have a different sort of adventure. Yesterday, we saw opulent temples, but today, our guides promised to show us the other side of Bangkok, the way that “real” people live in the city. The ride to the bike shop took about 45 minutes.
Genene can sleep anywhere and is practicing her father’s fly-catching technique.
We arrived at a small bike shop on a residential street and met our guide Amm, a tall, young slender Thai man without one ounce of fat on his body. He looked hip in the way that all people who make their living on bikes look. He picked bikes for all of us, gave us the basic safety instructions, and we were off. We cycled on the Bangkok streets for about five minutes at the start, and it was hair-raising. There are many scooters and bikes on the road, so the local people in cars are accustomed to sharing the lanes. It was very scary to me though. We rode single file and followed Amm’s directions. I was very glad when we left the road.
We cycled through alleyways and into what Amm described as the poor area. People live extremely close together in shacks. Amm noted that some people get good materials to build their homes, while others use a little rotten wood and tin.
Two dwellings side by side.
This cat peered out at us. We saw and heard lots of cats.
We stopped to visit a private elementary school. The bike shop provides some financial support to the school in exchange for the chance to bring tourists in for a quick look. We found clean happy kids. We arrived at the same time as three monks, who were getting food from the children and the locals. Monks only eat two meals a day, and their second meal is at 1:00 PM. They must eat only what is given to them. People feed the monks in the hope of having good fortune.
A monk accepts a child’s food offering.
Lining up for morning instruction.
The children listen attentively as the monks chant.
The kids all wanted to give us high-fives.
There are no desks or chairs. Classroom instruction is done on the floor.
We got underway again.
We passed through a Chinatown area known as the 200 rooms area, so called because the Chinese own it and have 200 rooms for their workers. The workers are sometimes Thai people but now may also be immigrants: Burmese, Cambodian, Laotian. They work very long hours, stopping only to eat and sleep. They send money back home to their families. Amm described the area as a “seawing center”. It took me a moment to translate: sewing center! The workers get paid per each t-shirt sewn together. The shirts are then shipped to another destination for finishing.
Amm said, “The man reading the paper is the boss.”
She will not make many baht today.
The stack of t-shirts waiting to be sewn.
The machine.
The man.
The next time I read a shirt label that says “Made in Thailand”, I will think of this place and the people who work so hard here.
Many of the passageways were quite narrow.
We rode to a pier on the river, stopped and drank an ice-cold Coke. I can’t remember a Coke ever being more refreshing.
We crossed the river on another longtail boat, this one much smaller and more rickety than the one we rode two days ago. There were no life preservers on board, and the boat sat low in the water. We whizzed by the big freighters.
One of the better looking dogs we saw.
A lock.
Our launch point as seen from the river.
The neighborhood.
Docking on the other side.
We headed into the old plantation area of Bangkok. It was hard to believe that we were still in the city. It looked more like a jungle. We rode on narrow elevated sidewalks. In many places there were no rails. To ride off would mean getting wet, muddy, and possibly injured, depending on the height from which you fell.
It was challenging, and there were a lot of hard right angle turns. It’s been a long time since I rode single-track, but I remembered the rules: keep pedaling and keep your eyes on where you want your wheels to go.
We arrived in a local park. The government bought an old plantation and converted it into a green space for the people. It was virtually empty today, but Amm said it would be packed on the weekend. We fed the fish, and they were waiting for us. As soon as we stood at the water’s edge, they rose to the surface. When the food hit the water, the frenzy was on.
A local temple.
The mausoleum.
Family photo: I wish I had sucked in my gut!
Spirit houses.
We stopped for a delicious, spicy lunch at a restaurant that had no western name.
Greg and I had basil fried rice while Genene had pad thai noodles.
We stopped inside an old temple. It had been struck by lightning twice and caught fire once. With that kind of bad luck track record, the decision was made to build a new one next to the old one.
The king’s symbol atop the temple.
The murals on the walls were falling into disrepair but were still beautiful.
The next mural is a depiction of hell. Amm explained that the Buddhist hell is not too scary. If the soul has not attained nirvana, it just gets a “clean-up’ and is sent back down for another try. I love this mural because it is so accessible and easy to understand.
This one is a depiction of the Battle of the Elephants in the Burmese/Siamese war. Can you see the evil white people? They are Portuguese.
Now this one is worth a hard look because some odd things are going on. Amm said it was a depiction of a funeral, but I’ve never seen a funeral where people were getting it on during the ceremony.
Amm told us the story of Lord Buddha talking to the demon Mara who was tempting him as he meditated. Buddha called upon mother earth to help him. She rose from the ground, squeezed out her wet hair and caused flooding which washed the demon and his armies away. The story put me in the mind of Jesus and His struggles with Satan.
The wood carvings over the door were considerably less ornate than the Grand Palace, but they held a certain charm.
We climbed back aboard our bikes and headed back to the river.
You can see a lot of floating trash on the water.
Our chariot arrives.
Greg is always happy on the water.
We stopped at a Thai boxing training center. The ring looked very small, and I would hate to be trapped in it with someone who was trying to elbow me until the blood ran.
We saw no fighting today. The men were watching soap operas.
We saw a cock-fight operation. Amm said that they do not fight to the death but only until one gives up. It is legal to cockfight but not to gamble on it. The gambling rule is often broken.
We finished our ride in the middle of the afternoon and were hot, sweaty and tired. If you would like to see video of the ride, I think this link will work:
We took baths, packed up our bags (we leave tomorrow), took a nap and suited up for our evening foodie tour. It was about a 45 minute car ride to Chinatown, where we met our guide, Ploy, a beautiful young lady. We would be having a progressive seven course dinner, walking from restaurant to restaurant between courses.
Like birds in the nest, happily waiting for the first course to arrive:
We began with a pink noodle soup with fish ball and a sweet fried banana cake. Both were divine.
We walked past the Chinatown gate, stood under the middle of the arch, and made wishes.
This lantern is in the local hospital.
Another view of the hospital.
Our second course was dim sum, which included deep fried dumpling, minced pork inside a steamed noodle, green noodle wrapped around meat, and sweet cake. It was outstanding. We all agreed later that the minced pork was a favorite.
A view of Chinatown.
Texas Street! Ya-hoo!
Our next course was a bitter tea from a shopmaker whose family has brewed the recipe for over 100 years. The tea is not supposed to be delicious and it was not. It is drunk to “restore balance” and health to a person. If it tastes bitter to you, it is doing its job. It definitely did its job on me. In fact, I thought it was going to cause me to toss my cookies. I could only drink a few sips. Greg’s reaction was not as violent, but he did not care for it either. Ploy took pity on Genene and got her a glass of chrysanthemum tea instead.
Our next course was river prawn in lemongrass, Chinese morning glory, and crab dry curry. Greg finally achieved spice heaven (or maybe that’s nirvana) at this stop. The prawn brought sweat to the brow and made our noses run. It was wonderful!
The rainy season has officially begun and it began to pour. We were getting wet between courses. Ploy told us that Ken had been calling her to check on us. He didn’t want us getting wet and sick since we have a lot more vacation. She got us some ponchos from the 7-11. (7-11s are everywhere here.) The rain made it a little more difficult, because we had to walk fast between courses. There’s nothing like getting a full stomach of spices and weird tea and then running in the hot rain. I hope it is restoring “balance” to my universe. At the very least, I hope I don’t gain weight from all the misbehavior.
The last course before dessert was a soup with crispy pork. Ploy told us we could add organ meat if we wanted. Greg asked them to add liver, but I stayed with the crispy pork. It was delicious but by this time, I was on the high side of full and could not do it justice.
We had our choice of ice cream for dessert, and then Ploy tested us by giving a second dessert and asking us to identify the ingredients: it was sesame in hot ginger tea. We could correctly identify ginger, but the sesame tasted like peanut butter to me. We ate the last bite as Ken and the driver pulled up to get us out of the pouring rain. We headed back to our hotel in Bangkok for the last evening. Our bellies were full. Today was an awesome day of adventures that went beyond the things that tourists normally see. We got to eat what real Thai people eat and see how real Thai people live.
+++++++++++
POSTSCRIPT:
It is Wednesday night, and I haven’t written Wednesday’s blog yet so I am already behind. We are heading to an elephant camp tomorrow. Accommodations will be “basic.” Wifi will be non-existent. The blog will be down for a few days. I’ll see you on the other side.
We had breakfast at the hotel, and Ken showed up right on time at 8:30 to begin our day’s activities. Our first stop was the Grand Palace. Thailand is a constitutional monarch, a bit like the British setup. However, the king in Thailand is venerated. He is also called Rama, the earthly manifestation of the Hindu god Vishnu. The vast majority of Thai people are Buddhist, but they pay respect to and incorporate the Hindu gods into their theology. The current king is Rama IX. Most western people are familiar with Rama IV, but we know him as Yul Brenner (“The King and I”). That movie is still banned in Thailand because it is considered disrespectful to the king.
The Grand Palace is heavily guarded by the Thai military, even though the king and queen are no longer in residence. They are in their 80’s now and live in a nearby hospital. Thai military service is compulsory for men. If a man does not volunteer, he must attend one conscription lottery by the age of 21. If he draws the black card, he is exempt from service. If he draws the red card, he must serve up to two years.
Lottery winners:
Our first glimpse of the Grand Palace:
There are temples all over the city and countryside. If a temple is affiliated with the king, it will carry a particular crest showing the incarnation of Vishnu, who rides on a serpent by sea and a garuda by land. Here he is atop his garuda:
The statues and decorations are breathtakingly ornate. An incredible amount of artistry has gone into each architectural detail.
A mural with 178 panels tells the complicated epic story of Thailand. Ken’s Cliff notes version was this: men battled against the demons for a beautiful lady. There was a good monkey (a general) , demons, and an angel. The good guys won. Here we are standing in front of one of the panels:
The mosaics on the buildings are stunning. Broken pottery was salvaged from a shipwreck and used to spectacular effect.
I will let the pictures do the talking about how opulent the Grand Palace is.
Ken pointed this lion out as an example of Chinese architecture, which has been incorporated into the palace.
A view of the murals, which stretch down hallways and wrap around buildings. It put me in the mind of the Bayeux Tapestry, only on a much larger scale. The murals must be constantly restored.
The first scene:
The happy ending:
Bees were swarming this blossom, and I thought it made a nice shot.
Inside the royal chapel of Wat (wat means temple) Phra Kaeo is the most sacred Buddha image in all of southeast Asia, the Emerald Buddha. He’s actually made of jade. Legend says that it was discovered in the 1400’s in a monestery in the Chiang Lai provence and was initially covered in plaster. Some of the plaster cracked off his nose, revealing the green interior, and so his worth was known. From there, he moved around a lot. Countries have warred over this Buddha and he has resided in Laos, Cambodia and Myanmar. Rama I brought him back to Thailand, where he has remained since 1784. He is only about 26 inches tall, and he sits atop a high throne surrounded by gold. Pictures inside the wat were strictly forbidden, but a door is left open so that the enterprising photographer can get a shot, if she has a steady hand and a large enough zoom lens. I think I did pretty good.
Upon entering the wat, you must remove your shoes and hat to show respect. It is disrespectful to put a foot toward the Buddha, so if you choose to sit, your feet must be folded behind you. The Emerald Buddha gets three costume changes a year that coincide with the seasons: rainy, dry and winter. We missed his costume change by one day, as the rainy season starts tomorrow. There was a large milling throng in the room, and the scene reminded me of the Sistine Chapel, only there were not as many people trying to sneak an illegal photo. A millitary guard stood at the front of the room, commanding respect of people. If you approached the front of the room closest to the Buddha, he would gesture for you to get down. I left the front of the room for the true believers and stayed back a few rows so I could stay on my feet. If I bend my knees the way they do, I am not certain I would be able to rise again.
We returned to the courtyard into the blinding sun.
The Thai have borrowed several ideas from the British, including driving on the left side of the road and using a royal guard. Men like this one are positioned at various important spots around the palace, and they must stand at attention for two hours, as people walk up beside them for photos. Genene did not want to get close to him. She said he was doing his job and shouldn’t be disturbed.
The heat is stifling, but I could not see a drop of sweat on him.
Ken never seems to sweat either. I think that must be a Thai adaptation. Greg, Genene and I are wringing wet within 10 minutes of leaving the hotel each time, and Ken looks as fresh as a daisy.
The architecture of the palace borrows from many cultures, including Chinese and European. Can you see the European influence in the building below? Take away its Thai top and it could be in Paris.
Family photo:
During important ceremonies, the king may ride an elephant. Now that the king is in his 80s, his elephant riding days are over.
More Chinese influence:
The details of the mosaics are stunning.
It took us about two hours to take the lightning fast tour of the palace, and we were hot and starved. Our itinerary called for us to go straight to another temple, but Ken could see we were ready for some chow so we deviated from the plan and went directly to lunch at Sala Rattanakosin. We had a fixed course meal of spring rolls, duck salad, tom kah gai soup, green curry with chicken, stir fried beef, and sticky rice with mango. The duck was a particular favorite, as it was well spiced. Again, the restaurant could not be convinced to serve us the meal spicy. Though the duck showed early promise, the curry was pretty mild. All of the dishes were delicious though, and each was delicately seasoned. We told Ken we really do like more spice, and so he told us that we would need push harder and tell our waiters to serve it “like a local, not like foreigner.” The lunch was leisurely and took about two hours. The beer was ice cold, and we were restored and ready for more adventure.
The view of the river and Wat Arun from the restaurant window was stunning:
The restaurant was situated in an interesting area. On the way in and out, Ken walked us through a grocery distribution area, where we could see boxes being loaded on delivery trucks. People were bustling around, and no tourists were in sight except us. It was a little slice of how things work behind the scenes.
We boarded a ferry to cross the river to go to Wat Arun.
I got this shot of a longtail boat motor. I’ll bet the boat drivers are deaf because when they open that engine up, it is LOUD.
The boat spirit will be pleased:
We rode a ferry across the river to Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn. This temple must be spectacular when it is not undergoing renovations. Most of it was in scaffolding, so we could not climb the stairs to the upper levels of the tower. Our walk around the grounds and base was short.
People go to the temple to receive advice and blessings from the monks. In this photo, the monk is shaking a bundle of sticks with holy water onto the faithful.
The cannonball fruit is not edible.
The restoration of Wat Arun proceeds in earnest.
We crossed back over the river to finish our day’s itinerary at Wat Po, one of Bangkok’s oldest and largest temples. It is the site of the first public education center in Thailand and is the birthplace of traditional Thai massage. It also houses the gigantic, gold plated reclining Buddha. The image is so large that it is difficult to capture in its entirety.
First peek:
I put Genene in the next shot to give you some persective on this 48 meter long, 15.8 meter high colossus:
We stood in line a good 15 minutes to get this shot.
A favorite activity in this temple is a ritual done for good fortune. There are 108 metal pots along the wall. For 20 baht (less than $1), you get a small cup of coins, and you must drop one into each pot along the way. Here’s a shot of her in action:
This temple gave us a bag to carry our shoes in while we were inside. Much like the Catholic churches in Rome, the guardians of the temples command our respect. Ken warned us that shoulders must be covered, and pants should come to the ankles. We complied but saw plenty of half naked people who did not. The guards had a solution to that. Those not suitably dressed were given a long robe to wear. I am happy to say that we did not have to don the stinky robe. Ken warned us that gangs of pickpockets work the room with the reclining Buddha, but we didn’t see any mischief today.
While in the temple, the summer rains finally came. There was a torrential downpour that lasted about 30 minutes. We all stayed under cover and waited for it to subside. After the showers broke, Ken asked us if we wanted to see more of the temple complex. We all said in unison, “We have seen enough.” We were “templed out.” Ken called for our driver, and we got back to the hotel at 3:30 or so.
We have been curious about the street food. Our friend Wendy told us of the existence of a confection known as a Thai ice cream sandwich, and we asked Ken about it. He didn’t say much, so we figured he wasn’t familiar with it. We shouldn’t have doubted him. After the drop off, he called the room phone about 5 minutes later and told Genene that he had something for her. The “sandwich” starts with a sweet, sticky bun that looks like a hot dog bun. The bun is split open and the bottom lined with sweet candied fruit and sticky rice. The next layer is coconut ice cream, and the sandwich is topped with peanuts. Genene was in heaven. She sat out on our balcony and stuffed the entire thing down, sharing only one bite each with her mom and dad.
We were hot and tired so we showered and took a nap. At sunset, we headed out for dinner. We went to a small nearby shop where we had traditional Thai dishes. We told them we wanted spicy, and they tried to oblige but it was still on the mild side. The chef who runs Thai Gourmet in Houston is Thai, and if you tell him to make a dish hot, your mouth will burn and your forehead will sweat. Greg is known as asbestos mouth in the Gordon family and loves spice. (This is probably why he had a bleeding ulcer last year in Peru.) I know these Thai folks could light him up, if only they would. We have one more day in Bangkok to dare them to give it to us “like a local.”
After dinner, we went for something called a fish spa. Genene had seen other people getting them on the streets and wanted to try. What is a fish spa, you ask? You stick your feet into an aquarium of sorts, and a school of small fish nibble the dead skin off your feet and legs.
At first, it was very hard to be still, as the nibbling fish tickled our feet. The proprietor told us to relax. If you move your feet, the fish will swim away.
It tickles!
They loved my horrible, calloused feet.
After the 15 minute fish spa, we all treated ourselves to a 30 minute foot massage, which was very therapeutic. We reclined in hammock-like chairs, and the ladies rubbed the aromatic oils all over our feet. The foot massage was really a whole-leg massage, and it felt good, in a painful sort of way. My lady really got into the muscles, and she even turned my legs and worked the hip joints. I felt rejuvenated after the long day on my feet.
We walked to end of street to get fresh fruit smoothies. Thai people love fresh fruits, and we have seen some fruits here that are new to us. We stuck with old favorites for the smoothies: I had mango, Greg had watermelon, and Genene had strawberry banana. They were cool and refreshing. During our stroll, we heard three different local bands singing “Sweet Home Alabama.” It must be a crowd pleaser. There’s something very funny about hearing the lyrics “singing songs about the southland’ done in a heavy Thai accent.
We saw street vendors selling all varieties of food, and I mean everything. We saw two different carts selling fried tarantulas, big bugs, grubs, crickets, and scorpions. They wanted 10 baht just to take a photo so I skipped it. I can be cheap about some things. I think photos should be free!
Lanterns for sale:
We turned back toward our hotel, happy and exhausted after a long day of sightseeing.
We were simultaneously excited and exhausted last night when we arrived. We had seen a lively cafe outside the doors of our hotel room, and for a moment, the devil on our left shoulder whispered about going over for just one beer. Luckily the angel on the other shoulder was talking louder, and she had common sense and exhaustion on her side. We stayed in the room, popped open a beer from the minibar and watched the scenery from the balcony for a few minutes. Greg and I split a sleeping pill. Genene needed no help and went right to bed. She slept more on the plane than either of us, so she popped up at 5:00 AM ready to rumble. I convinced her to lay back down until a more civilized hour and we all started stirring at 7:30 or so.
We had a delicious continental breakfast at the hotel. We tried our first dragonfruit. It has a red rind, and the inside is white with small, fine seeds. The flavor was akin to a kiwi but not as sweet. We had a Chinese steamed cream bun, which was some kind of confection with a custard filling. They were delicate, sweet and delicious.
After breakfast, we took a stroll around our neighborhood. We walked down the main street for a while, and the tuk-tuk drivers hustled us mercilessly. We just wanted to walk, but every few feet they would pull up or walk up or call out to us from the road. One of them hounded us at least three different times. He kept saying, “Just 20 baht to see all the Buddhas.” Greg said to me, “I’ll pay him 20 baht to go away and leave us alone.” The exchange rate is 35 baht to 1 US dollar, so the ride would have been cheap, if he had really taken us anywhere we wanted to go. Our guide gave us the same warning as Bill Abel: you must be careful about the tuk-tuk drivers. They like to take you to their “friends” from whom they get a kickback. We politely but firmly told each one who approached that we were not interested today. I do want to ride in one, but this morning, we just wanted to stroll and get the lay of the land.
Coconuts by the truckload.
Tuk-tuk and rider.
I practiced my panning shots. I want to get one of a tuk-tuk whizzing by before we leave, but today I caught the scooterman.
For my water district friends, check out this fire hydrant.
I was thrown off my game for a while this morning because I lost a valuable bottle of anti-malarial medicine. We always dutifully go to the travel doctor before our trips, and the cost of the visits and prescriptions is astronomical. I put one of the three bottles in my purse for “safekeeping on the plane,” and when I unloaded the purse this morning, it was gone. I’m sure the bottle is rolling around somewhere on the floor of one of the Korean Air planes. Luckily Genene, Greg and I are all on the same dosage, so we have the other two bottles and are not in immediate danger. In fact, we lacked just two pills having enough to tide us over until we get back to the states, where we could then get the replacement bottle stateside for the week’s dosage that we take after we return. I was fretting about having to deal with a chore just as soon as we return. I should not have worried. During our morning walk, I popped my head into a pharmacy and asked the pharmacist if she had any malaria medications. She went right to the back, pulled out a sleeve of exactly the medicine we were taking and offered to sell them to me at $30 less than I paid in the US. No need for those pesky prescriptions. Problem solved!
We stopped for an early lunch. Greg had a fried rice with bacon. I had fried rice with salmon. Genene had a salmon sandwich. It was all good.
Ken arrived promptly at noon. We stepped around to the back of the hotel, where the river lapped at our feet. Our private longtail boat was waiting. We sailed up the river and into the canal system. The motor is very loud, and you can see all the moving parts and belts. I’m sure some of the pilots have lost fingers in the whirring machinery.
This lady is selling souvenirs on the water.
The lady Buddha is known as the Buddha of mercy.
Our first stop along the canal was to feed the catfish. Ken told us that around the temples, it is forbidden to kill anything. If the catfish stray out of the area around the temple, they are fair game. It is good luck to feed them. He bought a loaf of bread from a lady on the shore and we threw big chunks into the water. It didn’t take long for the surface of the water to start roiling. Ken explained that these catfish are too big for eating. They would be too oily.
The boat pilots hang flowers and decorations on the prow of the boat as an offering to the boat spirits.
Our next stop was the floating market, a place filled with delights.
This lady was selling live eels and turtles. Ken explained that some people buy them and turn them loose for good luck. We also saw another lady selling lottery tickets. I guess you can buy the eel, turn him loose and then go get your winning ticket.
This lady is making papaya salad on her boat.
This lady is making a sticky sweet noodle confection. Ken bought us a bag to munch on, and it was delicious.
Our favorite purchases were a coconut fried pancake and a mangosteen fruit.
Dragonfruit.
Durian. This fruit has a very stinky smell but supposedly tastes good. We did not try any today. Ken told us that some apartments prohibit their tenants from having them because of their obnoxious smell.
Thai baby eggplant. This vegetable is found in green curries. In the US, many chefs substitute with green peas.
Ken bought us a burned coconut. The lady used the blunt end of a butcher knife to whack the top off.
Voila, a delicious drink.
This man was making a dish similar to pad thai in a crepe.
Would you like some meat on a stick?
How about catfish on a stick?
Fanning the coals over the prawns.
Colorful souvenirs.
We got back on the water. I enjoy looking at infrastructure. A fresh water line ran parallel to the river bank. Every few hundred feet, it was elevated to allow boats to pass under.
Laundry day.
Greg is happy anytime he is on water.
Woman’s work.
A Thai family would not dream of building a home for themselves without first building a home for the land spirits. Offerings are made to show respect to the spirits. Here is one such home.
Our next stop was the artists’ house, a place where people come to train in the old ways of Thailand: painting, drawing, puppetry, etc. Ken lamented that the young people are not interested in such things and instead prefer pop music. The Thai people must work hard to keep the culture alive. We took off our shoes before entering. Ken warned us not step on the threshold. The guardian spirit lives there and protects the home from evil spirits. This belief also has a very practical utility: it helps children learn to step up and over the threshold to avoid tripping and falling into the river.
It was at this stop that we encountered our first “not modern” toilet. We had read about them but until now had been enjoying our western style luxury hotel pot. This was different. It was porcelain, all right, but there was no seat. You had to hover over it in a half squat and do your business. It reminded me of going to the drive-in theater when I was a kid and Mom wouldn’t let me sit on the seat because she was afraid I would get some dreaded unmentionable disease. It also reminded me of our old office on 1100 Louisiana. We shared the floor with another tenant, and I called one of the ladies in their office “the dribbler.” You can guess why. Anyway, back to the Thai toilet. It didn’t flush. There was a large pail of clean water beside it with a scoop inside. You simply scoop up some water and wash away your waste. We Americans are so spoiled that we actually do our business in potable water. It is eye-opening to see how the rest of the world lives. Well, enough bathroom talk.
We came to the artists’ house see a puppet show, but alas, the artists got a better paying gig somewhere else and so were not in residence. It’s a shame we did not see these magnificent puppets in action.
The view from the upstairs windows was nice.
A beautiful piece of artwork.
We sat down to have a Thai tea and an appetizer called miang kham. You put the sauce on top, fold the leave up and pop the entire bite into your mouth. They were delicious!
We pulled away fat and happy.
Thai cowboy. Yee haw!
We traveled through these lock gates.
As you can see, I took many photos, but there were also images that I did not capture: an old toothless man waving enthusiastically at us from the shore; a very old barely conscious woman laying flat on the ground just inside a doorway, with her daughter (I assume) fanning her; a man getting a very peculiar massage with the glass bottle cupping, something I haven’t seen since “The Fearless Vampire Killers.” Some of the scenes passed too fast for me to get my camera up to my face. In other cases, I did not feel right taking the shot because it looked too much like misery, and I did not want to exploit that. Life in all its brutal glory gets carried out on these streets.
Ken told us that neighbors used to know each other. Thailand is hot, and everyone had open windows and open doors. Everyone knew each other’s business. You could find any person in a village if you knew his parents’ name. You had simply to walk up, say the name, say the parent’s names, and the way would be shown. Now more and more Thai people have air conditioning. They close their doors and windows and homes. Neighbors live side by side but do not know each other. Is it so different in the US? I can’t name half the people on my block.
We headed back into the main channel of the river. Boats were everywhere: longtails, cruise boats, ferries. They were speeding along, churning up the water and traveling at every wacky angle. I wonder how many collisions they have. I was surprised we didn’t see one. The river had waves like the ocean from all the boat wakes.
A fairly quiet moment on the river. (During the boat melee, I had to keep my camera down to keep it from getting splashed.)
The Grand Palace as seen from the water. We will go there tomorrow for a tour.
We got out of the longtail, tipped our pilot and took a brief walk around our neighborhood with Ken.
A banyan tree with offerings.
We stopped at a temple where we made an offering. Ken explained that we are not required to be Buddhist to do so. He made a small donation for us for the upkeep of the temple, for which we got a flower, and candle, and three sticks of incense.
Genene lighting the incense.
The interior of the temple.
Ken left us in mid afternoon and we went back to our hotel for a shower and a siesta. We were thrilled to get both. It is hot, muggy and sticky here, and our clothes were stuck to our backs.
We went back out for dinner after the sun had set.
We ordered spring rolls, curries, and chicken wings. It was all delicious, but we thought the curries were very mild. I think they gave us the gringo treatment. It’s probably just as well, since my belly has been a little uneasy today. We have been on a carb-free diet for a couple of weeks so we could lose a little weight. I am reintroducing those carbs in full force today, and my belly is shifting back into gear. I’m planning to pack all the weight back on again during this trip. Yoyo!
We want to get massages, but we were all tired tonight and I wanted to get close to my big, fancy, modern toilet so we walked straight back to the hotel. Greg and Genene have already passed out, and I am going to be right behind them. Ken comes to get us at 8:30. He warned us to wear pants to the ankle (to be respectful in the temples) and comfortable shoes. We have a lot of ground to travel. Good night!
I finished my last board meeting at the office last night and got home tired and hungry. I knew the week would be a long one, so most of my packing was done the previous weekend. Oddly enough, I haven’t been too nervous about this trip. Thailand and Cambodia will be much less gear intensive than the ill-fated Peruvian adventure last year. For that trip, we were packing camping gear and items we thought we would need for a 4-day Inca Trail hike. That kept me in a constant state of panic (Do I need one hiking stick or two? Is my camera gear going to be too heavy? Did I pack enough warm clothing? and so on and so on). Even the Galapagos trip required us to get new snorkeling gear. For this trip, I just needed clothes, and I got all those bought over the past two weekends. I have joked that I have more linen and khaki than Meryl Streep when she packed up to go film “Out of Africa.” Greg had dutifully packed all the clothes I set aside. He is a ninja packer. When I pack a suitcase, it looks like my office: crap spread everywhere willy-nilly. When Greg, the clothes and the suitcase meet, the results are a thing of beauty: everything is rolled up neatly, and each thing has a special place. The point of all this? My gear was packed, and we had nothing to do last night but hang out and put aside the last minute items. We began to get excited. Those familiar butterflies in my stomach finally started flying. I sometimes ask myself why I travel. It makes me nervous. The flights are a pain. Doing a month’s worth of work in two weeks so I can leave for the trip is always hectic, and finding the 1,000 emails when I get back is a gut-punch. Why do it? It’s the adventure! In spite of the difficulties, I love it! It recharges my soul.
Anyway, off we go!
Our day started early today when the alarm clock blared at 5:30 AM. Our Action Limo driver was right on time at 7:00 AM, and we were at the airport before 8:00. As usual, we were the Prontosaurus family, and we had our tickets and were at the gate before 8:30. Our flight wasn’t scheduled for takeoff until 10:30 so we went to Ruby’s and had a thoroughly nasty, big American breakfast. When we returned to the gate, a large group of Korean veterans were there. Some were on canes, others had walkers. They were headed to Seoul. It’s a trip they make periodically at the invitation of a Korean church. One of the old gentlemen told Greg that they were all treated reverentially by the Korean people. It was great to see all the old guys having an adventure together. My father is a Korean war vet, though he never went to Korea. He tells the story like this: when his training was finished, his group was mustered and asked if any of them had served in a post office. Violating the age-old rule that you don’t volunteer, Dad raised his hand. His brother had been the postmaster back in Arkansas. Dad spent the rest of his Korean War effort in a post office in Germany. He thinks he made a good call when he raised his hand that day. I agree.
Our flight boarded efficiently and left on time. The flight attendants on Korean Air are beautiful and statuesque. Their hair is pulled back into perfectly lacquered buns. The service, even back in lowly coach where we are, was top-notch. They had Genene’s heart the moment they handed out slippers. She tossed her shoes into the corner and began to indulge. Their first meal was the highlight for me. They served bibimbap, the traditional Korean rice bowl dish.
None of us had eaten it before, and they brought us a card that described the exact steps for mixing it up.
It was delicious. The lovely ladies came around with snacks quite often and refilled the water glasses regularly. It’s a far cry from United. We flew United to Quito back in March, and every one of their flight attendants disappeared after takeoff and only reappeared at landing. Anyway, back to Korean Air. Their second meal was much less impressive. I think they elected to wow us right out of the box with the bibimbap, but the next meal was the same old rubber chicken that you get on every airplane and at every AWBD conference luncheon. Their movie selection was not the best. I watched the Ben Stiller movie “While We’re Young.” I thought it was a bit of a mess. It could have been so much better. The flight duration was 14+ hours, so we had a lot of time to read, play our iPads, nap, and just hang out. I injured my back a few months ago, and I was afraid the prolonged sitting might be a problem but I made it fine. Toward the end, I was feeling pretty restless, but “no pain, no gain.”
Saturday, July 25, 2015
We arrived in Seoul at 3:00 PM on Saturday, having spent most of our Saturday in transit. We crossed the dateline somewhere over the Pacific. The Seoul airport was very easy to navigate, although we were annoyed at having to go through screening and bag x-rays again, and they made us toss our valuable water supply. We were at the gate for Bangkok with 90 minutes to spare. We were starved and Greg found some little French-style hot sandwiches that hit the spot. We bought more water bottles and got to be annoyed a second time when the Korean Air personnel made us toss them before boarding the Bangkok flight. There was no reason for that, other than the fact that they didn’t want the trash in the airplane. The flight from Seoul to Bangkok was about six hours, and we were all just thrashed. I fell asleep sitting straight up. Genene looked like a zombie. Greg did his usual handsome man trick of sleeping with his mouth open. I call it “catching flies.”
Our little world traveler can pass out anywhere. She used to take up a lot less room on the airplane when she slept. Now, as she gets comfortable, grown-up sized flailing legs come across the armrests.
We touched down in Bangkok at around 10:00 PM. Immigration was easy. The man in the booth didn’t ask any of us a single question and he never even seemed to look up. By the time we got through, our bags were riding around the carousel waiting for us to retrieve them. We wrestled them onto the ground, and we were off! When I get my bags, I always feel like Secretariat at the start of a race when the gate comes up and the bell rings. It always feels so good to be free of the confining space of the aircraft, and it’s a relief to know that all our bags made it. I started hauling butt across the airport with my head on a swivel, looking for the man who would be holding up a placard with our names on it. The receiving area was long and narrow, and we had to run the usual gamut of cab drivers and hawkers looking for fresh meat. I spotted our man, Ken (not his Thai name), and we were relieved to follow him dutifully to the parking garage and into our private transport vehicle.
Although we were exhausted, we were still excited to have finally arrived in Bangkok. Continent No. Five is knocked off the bucket list for Genene and me, while Greg has completed all seven! Not everyone gets the elusive Antarctica, but Greg served on an icebreaker during his years in the Coast Guard and got to romp around with emperor penguins on the ice. Genene and I are a little envious that he has got that one on us because we are unlikely to put that notch in our belts for a while. We may try to knock off Australia next year so we will only be one behind, but I’m ahead of myself.
The drive to our hotel took about 45 minutes and looked like any drive through city traffic, with the exception of the Thai signage. Ken taught us how to say hello. We already knew that one, having learned it many years ago from the kind owner of Lemongrass restaurant in Houston. For Ken’s sake, we acted as if he was giving us a good lesson and dutifully repeated our sawadee kha (what we women say) and sawadee krap (what Greg says).
We drove through the heart of the vibrant city at night. We passed the statue of the four faced white elephant, and Ken explained that white elephants really existed. He explained that they had very pink skin and light eyes, so I think he is talking about an albino. He told us that they were considered sacred and must be presented to the king and queen. It is considered good luck for the king and queen to have one and bad luck for any villager to keep one. They are quite costly to maintain. Thus we have the background for the expression “white elephant gift.”
We got to our hotel on the banks of the Chao Phraya River at about 11 PM on Saturday night. A mere 28 hours had elapsed between when we left our home in Bellaire and our arrival at the hotel. We were bushed. Ken will meet us tomorrow afternoon, so we can sleep in and try to get on Thai time.
For now, I will leave you with the view from our balcony.
I can’t wait to have my first Thai curry in Thailand. Genene is ready for pad Thai noodles. Greg is happy any time he can find a cold beer. Tomorrow, we will ride the longtail boats and get a feel for the city. Until then….
Our Thailand/Cambodia adventure is a few days away, and I realized that my free WordPress blog is at over 80% capacity. (I take a lot of photos.) I am biting the bullet and “upgrading” my blog, which means only two things: now I have to pay money for more memory, and the URL address of the blog changed. My site is now known as….drumroll, please…. ramblingrazorback.com
Now let me cross my fingers and see if this thing uploads. For those of you who get an email alert when I post a blog, I apologize for the intrusion. This is just a test!
Our last full day on the boat began with a stunning sunrise.
Our last white board:
Our delicious breakfast–there was always hot food, cheeses, meats, fresh juices, and cocoa puffs (the kids’ favorite).
Today, we were visiting the highlands of Santa Cruz Island. We rode the pangas through the harbor in Puerto Ayora and boarded a bus for a 45 minute trip. The girls raced to the back seats, where they could sing songs, play pattycake games and giggle. Our destination was El Chato Ranch. Our guides explained the the land is owned by local people who are paid not to farm their land with animals or crops. Instead the land is managed in its natural state so that the giant tortoise can live and thrive there. The bus left the harbor town of Puerto Ayora and climbed up into the misty, green hillside.
Cool billboards:
Get a load of this road sign. “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”
We arrived at El Chato in the mid-morning, and it was not crowded. There may have been one other bus in the parking lot. This was our experience throughout the trip. The number of people in the park is tightly regulated, and we never felt as if we were in a crowd.
There were two tortoise shells no longer being used by their owners, and the kids took turns climbing in and posing for photos.
Greg shows off his manliness by lifting the shell up.
There were tables under a pavilion, and they had fresh-brewed coffee and cold Coca-colas waiting for us. Hernan told us the ladies here make a mean empanada, but it was going to take too long to make them so we devoured a plate of watermelon instead.
Hernan and James asked for a couple of volunteers. They said, “We must have a married couple to help us.” Melanie and Doug stepped up to the plate. It only took them a moment to realize that they were to be the brunt of a little joke, and they rose (or sank) to the occasion with élan. All of us parents roared with laughter as they made tortoise in flagrante delicto faces, and the kids pretended to be embarrassed by us, although I think they enjoyed the joke too. Genene said, “You guys are disturbing.”
After our little tortoise love scene, James and Hernan led us on a short nature walk. We walked through pastures and forests that at first glance seemed not so different from Arkansas or Texas. Then we spotted a giant tortoise sitting in the middle of the field, munching contentedly on grass, just as a Texas Longhorn would.
The kids were thrilled to see the big creatures in their native habitat.
Both James and Hernan had confessed on separate occasions that when they were kids, they rode on the backs of these creatures. They have photos to prove it. Hernan told us that when he goes to visit his grandparents, they want to get pictures of his young son on a tortoise. He politely declines. The young people of Ecuador are more attuned to the goals of conservation, and such activities are now frowned up. I was reminded of the Maasai people in Tanzania. It used to be a rite of passage for each young man of that tribe to slay a male lion. Times change, and traditions must change as well.
Thanks to Hernan, who got some rare footage of me in front of a camera.
I think this one will make the Christmas card.
The land tortoises enjoy a mud bath.
Our guides explained that, all joking aside, the act of tortoise-mating can be dangerous, particularly for the male tortoise. At the conclusion of the festivities, he may be upended by his lady. It is one of the few times when the rangers and guides may intervene, because the tortoises are endangered. If a tortoise is spotted on its back, the guide or ranger notifies the national park and provides the time and location. If the tortoise has not righted himself in four hours, the guides are allowed to do so. A tortoise can weigh over 500 pounds, so it takes more than one person to flip one back over and send him on his merry way.
Toward the end of the nature walk, Hernan showed us to a lava tube (cave) and told us that we could go inside. He said, “I can swim with marine iguanas, hammerhead and whitetip sharks, and I can lead tour groups and presentations. But I cannot go with you into that cave. I have claustrophobia. I will be waiting for you at the mouth.” I sympathized with Hernan. I found out during an MRI a few years ago that I do not do well in confined spaces either, though the lava tube was large enough that it did not trigger any reaction in me on this day.
We got back in the bus and headed back to Puerto Ayora. The girls did their girly things.
At breakfast earlier, one of crew members, Richard, had passed around some intelligence in a conspiratorial whisper. It was the captain’s birthday, and tradition called for him to be tossed into the water. Greg was dubious. He had heard of no such tradition in the Coast Guard, and we were afraid we were being set up. Some of our fellow travelers asked more questions, and the entire crew was unanimous: Feliz cumpleanos and over the side!
The kids used the lunchtime panga ride to hatch the plan. Everyone, including the crew, thought it would go more smoothly if the kids were the instigators of this friendly mutiny.
The captain was waiting for us, and we got the kids to pose for pictures with him. After they had him surrounded, they told him he had to go for a dive.
He says, “Are you kidding me? I just took a shower.”
Richard (the true instigator) was very happy that the kids were forcing the issue instead of him.
The captain climbed to the highest point of the boat, the sundeck.
One last futile appeal to the heartless children….
Avast, ye scurvy dogs! I’m outta here. Bombs away!
Perfect form!
And he sticks the landing! A perfect 10!
It’s a quick swim back to the boat.
The captain was very good-natured and gracious.
We had a nice lunch and then a long break with time to pack and nap. All of our clothes were wet and/or dirty, so it was probably time to bring the trip to a close.
We returned to Santa Cruz and Puerto Ayora at 3:30 to see some of the scientific endeavors that are underway to ensure the survival of the several unique species of the Galapagos. We went to the land tortoise breeding center and saw baby and juvenile tortoises.
I marvel at the use of available technology in developing countries. The center needed to monitor a nest of birds, and their solution was ingenious as it was simple: they wired a GoPro camera to the cactus and pointed it at the birds. In the US, we would have likely gone through some sort of complicated procurement process with bid specifications and ended up with a multi-million dollar camera system that did not work.
We saw the habitat area of Lonesome George, who was the last of the Pinta Island saddleback tortoises. The story of Lonesome George is fascinating and ultimately sad. Pinta Island is one of the smaller islands. It’s not visited by tourists and not inhabited by humans. Pinta Island’s ecosystem had been ravaged by a population of feral goats that had been originally introduced by pirates centuries ago. Tortoises need green grass and shade and condensation pools to survive, and the hardy goats mowed all of that down. By the mid 1950’s, the Pinta Island tortoise was declared extinct….or so it was thought. In 1971, a man visiting Pinta Island to collect shells observed a lone tortoise lumbering around near the beach. A Pinta Island tortoise! Alive! An exhaustive search of the island was made, but George was all alone, the last of his kind. He was brought to the breeding center in Santa Cruz in hopes that he would mate with a similar land tortoise from a neighboring island. The scientists introduced him to Georgina and Georgetta, but George wasn’t too interested. At one point, there were some eggs, but none hatched. Lonesome George died in 2012, devasting his handler of more than 40 years and the rest of the scientific world, all of whom had gone to great lengths to try to preserve the species. (In an interesting footnote, scientists have discovered tortoises on other islands in the Galapagos with small amounts of Pinta DNA. They theorize that human activity is likely responsible. The pirates may have moved tortoises from island to island, where they mated with the “locals,” and some hybrids survived. In any event, the Pinta tortoise in its “purebred” form died with George.) There is something particularly poignant about being able to pinpoint the exact time and place when a species ceases to exist. Who wrote it down for the dinosaurs? Who will write it down for us?
Lonesome George was preserved with loving attention to detail by a taxidermist at the Museum of Natural History in New York City. Lonesome George was displayed at the museum, and we even got the chance to see him back in October. The Galapagos National Park is trying to raise funding for a proper display for him, but I believe that he is heading to mainland Ecuador for now.
Flashback to October 2014. I wish we had seen him alive in Santa Cruz.
If you have five minutes to kill, this is a very interesting youtube video on the subject of Lonesome George and the efforts to preserve his body. I have never given much thought to taxidermists and their art form, although I know a lot of people make a lot of money mounting deer heads in Arkansas. The folks who work for the Museum of Natural History are obviously in another league. No wonder Ben Stiller could imagine an entire movie about a museum coming alive after hours. A lot of effort goes into making these creatures lifelike.
The land tortoise breeding center is having some remarkable successes. Tortoise babies are everywhere, and they can sometimes be re-introduced to the islands. The successful eradications of feral goat and rat populations have allowed tortoises to be re-established on some of the islands formerly too inhospitable.
This land iguana posed for me, and I dutifully took the shot, although I had trouble working up much enthusiasm for photographing the creatures in captivity. After all, just a couple of days ago, I saw these guys in the wild. I have a similar feeling about zoos now after going on safari. I still visit the zoo in Houston, but I don’t get as excited about it.
After we completed our tour of the breeding center, the guides gave us some souvenir shopping time in Puerto Ayora town. We got some t-shirts and art work and generally strolled around.
James, proud resident of Santa Cruz, asked his wife to bring the twins down to meet us. We got to see James in a different role, that of proud father.
The Flamingo kids took a turn on the rolling stuffed animals.
Our time drew to a close, and we headed for the harbor and boarded the pangas.
I love this photo. Most of the kids piled into the same panga with Hernan, and they motored off, enjoying a laugh about goodness knows what.
The parents loaded onto our panga.
As the sun disappeared, we headed for our “home” on the Flamingo for one last time. The kids called it the “Flaming O.”
I dug my camera out of the wetbag to get this shot because I knew it was the last time we would approach the boat.
The kids unloaded first and ran up to the wetsuit deck to greet Abel and get one last delicious snack.
The captain, showered and changed again, waited on deck to greet us.
We ate our snacks, went back to our rooms and showered off so that we could attend the captain’s farewell cocktail. We met in the main muster area, and the champagne was flowing. The captain had put on his dress white top with crisply starched black pants, and his face was freshly clean-shaven. Perhaps he wanted a change of look for his birthday. He cut an impressive figure. (Can you tell that I liked the captain?) He thanked us all for being a good group, and we thanked the crew in return. We raised our glasses in toast. The crew told us they had a little surprise for us: Hernan and James had been photographing US while we were out on excursions, and they had put together a video montage of our week’s activities. They had made a concerted effort to get several pictures of each family, and everyone was fairly represented. (Almost every picture of me showed me with a camera up to my face. Surprise!) It was such a sweet gesture, and we all cheered and laughed at each other’s photos. There were also some spectacular wildlife photos in the lineup. Hernan is a very talented photographer. They told us that if we brought an SD card to the main muster area later, they would copy it for each of us at no charge. I got my copy and proudly added it to my photo collection. We got our tip envelopes and comment cards, and James and Hernan announced to us for the last time, “Dinner is served.” We enjoyed one last delicious supper together. We laughed heartily, but I think there was a hint of wistful melancholy in the air. Everyone was sad to have to leave these enchanting islands and each other. After dessert and drinks, we all headed off our separate ways to pack and get ready to depart in the morning.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
The guides told us it would be a pretty short trip to get back to San Cristobal and they were right. The engines started up at 11:00 PM or so on Saturday night, and we motored along until about 3:30 in the morning. I always woke up when the boat stopped. The absence of the “white noise” was just disruptive enough to bring me to the surface. I sat and listened to the sounds of the boat and the men. I heard the sound of the winch lowering the pangas down to water level. I heard the men’s voices as they worked together to get the boat anchored. Soon I drifted back to sleep.
One last “wake up, wake up” and we gathered for breakfast aboard the ship. There was no white board. The crew could not spend a lot of time moping with us. They were making the ship ready for the next guests, who will arrive in the afternoon. They have only a few hours to make the boat ready for the next set of adventurers. Will they be as fun as we were? No way!
We met on the deck for our last panga ride together. We had all become professionals at getting in and out of our life preservers and loading into the boats.
We alternated sides while loading the panga to keep everything balanced.
The kids’ panga launched. The captain waved to them. Genene made a face at me. She gets tired of being photographed.
My last view of my captain. He waved goodbye to us. As soon as we were a respectful distance, I watched him turn back to the panga boat and return to his crew. Back to work for them…and for us.
We got off the panga for the last time in San Cristobal, and we waved at the panga driver as he sped back to the Flamingo.
As Maxine Nightingale says, “It’s all right! It’s comin’ on! We gotta get right back to where we started from.” Can you believe it? It looks like the same sea lions are lounging on the same steps!
We walked along the pier, and everyone still giggled at the sight of the sea lions lying around everywhere.
People cannot even move their cars without looking carefully for these big guys.
We spent an hour or so at an interpretation center. I got this nice shot from the deck.
The kids dutifully read about the history of the islands, but everyone knew that we were just killing time until our flight.
After we finishing reviewing the exhibits at the interpretive center, our guides turned us loose for some final shopping.
Most of us had satisfied our shopping “needs,” and so we wandered around looking for a place to cool our heels. Most of us congregated at a local bar and restaurant. The kids got their own table, and the adults sat nearby companionably drinking beer and eating fried foods until it was time to go.
We said goodbye to Matt, Laura and Kate at the bus. They are staying on the island for a few days. There were hugs all around. The kids have made a plan to come back in 20 years with their own kids. It’s so sweet to hear them talk like that, though I am not sure about their math.
I caught Genene looking a little forlorn.
Hugs!
Hernan gave us our boarding passes and passports at the airport, and again there were hugs all around as we said our goodbyes to our faithful, tireless and patient guide. James showed up at the last second, and we waved to him from the security line at the airport. After we passed through security, we would see them no more.
As soon as we got to the gate, the kids gathered up again for one last round of card games. The adults began to look at their electronic devices, now receiving cellular service after days of “no signal.”
We flew from San Cristobal to Guayaquil on the mainland, and all of our boat mates except Ian, Buffy and Sean got off. Some of them were continuing their vacation adventures, while others were headed home. We hugged the ones who were close enough to hug and waved enthusiastically at those who were too far away. Melanie ran backwards two rows on the plane to give me a last squeeze, a sweet gesture that I will always remember. She and I both had tears in our eyes. Strangers on the plane wanted to know what cruise we had been on and whether we had all known each other before. We told them, “We are from the Flamingo touring with Ecoventura. We did not know each other before, but we are all friends now!” It was a peculiar thing to have this special bond with all of these fabulous people who had shared our lives and our adventure. Can you make friends for life in a week’s time? I think so.
We got to Quito in the late afternoon and had to recover all of our bags, which were only checked through to Quito. We would have to go to the international terminal with all of them and go through security again. Our layover was about 5 hours, which is a brutal amount of time to spend sitting around in an airport. At first we thought about dropping our bags at a paid locker station, but they wanted $11 per bag, which we thought was exorbitant. I was feeling so grubby and desperately wanted a hot shower and a few minutes of rest. We found an information booth and asked the lady if there was a hotel very near the airport where we could get a day room. She knew just the place. She told us transportation was included and the man would be there in “10 minutes.” We should have known that was 10 minutes Ecuadorian, which means 30 minutes USA time. After half an hour, she apologized and said that the hotel owner was having a snafu with someone else’s bag and asked us if we cared to take a prepaid taxi to the hotel. We took a chance and said okay, and in 10 minutes we were there. But where was there?
It seemed a little odd at first, because the town seemed nothing more than a collection of tall, metal walls. The cab driver went to the appointed address and honked, and the solid metal gate, too tall to see beyond, opened. At first I wondered if we had been sent on a boondoggle. Were we about to go inside the wall and be robbed or fleeced? We were met by the owner, who grabbed our bags and escorted us into a nice little hacienda style hotel. Thanks to the internet, we were soon able to research the hotel and found that it got good reviews on TripAdvisor, particularly as a resting spot near the airport. Whew!
We stuffed our bags into the room and took turns standing under the hot, steamy, ROOMY shower. It was so nice to stand in a shower that didn’t sway. We laid on the bed until suppertime and went to the main dining hall, where we had the best $7 supper I’ve ever had: a hearty soup, chicken, rice and vegetables, and homemade dessert. The dining room was sparsely populated, which seemed a shame with such delightful meal. There was one couple in the place and a girl in the back corner plugged into her iPhone. We struck up a conversation with the couple. They wanted to know where we had been and what we had done. They were Canadians who had been in-country for 42 days and had many tales to tell. They were professional travelers and told us of their many adventures in Ecuador and throughout the years. They were the kind of people who delight in finding a $25 bargain hostel. I like to think that I might be more like them if I were retired and had no time constraints. I tend to plan my entire trip in advance and pay a premium to have certainty about where I am staying and what I am doing. Perhaps when I retire….. Anyway, the man said he was in India while they were filming the Ben Kingsley movie “Ghandi” and was an extra. He told us exactly where to find him in the movie…for all three seconds. He also told us a long involved story about how he once stepped on Mother Theresa’s toe. Most interestingly, he told us how he asked his wife to marry him at the conclusion of the Camino de Santiago (Way of St. James) pilgrimage walk in Spain. He later went back and did the pilgrimage again with his grown daughter. He said the experience was “sublime”, and of course, Greg and I were intrigued. Genene yawned into her dessert. So many places. So little time. We parted company and wished each other safe and wonderful travels.
Greg, Genene and I returned hand in hand in hand to our room, and we got to see a stunning sunset.
The lights of Quito burned in the distance.
We had a few more minutes to relax on the bed before heading back to the airport at 9:15 PM. The hotel’s driver took us by van, and the return trip took only 10 minutes. It was easy to get checked in on United, and we were glad that we had taken the chance on the hotel. We reunited with Austinites Buffy, Ian and Sean, and we all sat at the airport gate companionably. Turns out they were seated right across from us in the airplane (we all sprang for those extra legroom seats), but we were exhausted so we didn’t say much. The flight got in the air at 15 minutes past midnight, and I was asleep before the plane leveled off.
We arrived in Houston at 5:30 AM on Monday morning, and through the magic of Global Entry we were through immigration before our bags got on the carousel. Buffy, Ian and Sean were not too far behind, and we gathered our gear. They had to catch a connecting flight to Austin, so we were finally parted. The adults all hugged. Adhering to the age-old rule that boys and girls of a certain age can’t touch or act as if they might like each other, Genene and Sean simply made hand gestures and slapped at each other without touching. I hope we will see them again soon. Austin is only a three hour drive from Houston.
We were waved through customs without a problem and got in a cab. We were at our front doorstep by 7:00 AM. Greg and Genene crashed down hard, but I could not afford to because I had to be at work. I put on a load of laundry and unpacked some bags. I was at the office well before a client board meeting at noon. I was able to announce proudly to the board that “last night at midnight, I was in Quito, Ecuador.” I am not sure if they were impressed or mortified.
RANDOM, PARTING THOUGHTS:
It took me until Thursday to lose the sensation of movement, which was quite disconcerting. The patch was a godsend, and as I mentioned, I experienced no seasickness while on board the ship. I found it odd that it was only AFTER disembarking that I felt bad. After a couple of days, I began researching and through the power of internet self-diagnosis managed to frighten myself into thinking I had some kind of rare disorder called mal de debarquement. I read posts from people who went on a cruise and never quit moving for years. Thankfully, I found my land legs by the week’s end and was able to quit fretting. The internet has really transformed life. There is so much information at our fingertips. Too bad so much of it is frightening or wrong. The internet must be a hypochondriac’s dream.
We loved our guides, our tour operator and our boat. First, a shout-out to our guides: Hernan and James were marvelous. They were patient with the kids, and they seemed to genuinely enjoy their vocation. Guides in the Galapagos are all required to be certified as Class I, II and III, with III having the most training and formal education as naturalists. Our guides were Class III and it showed. There was no reptile or bird they could not identify. Or maybe they just followed the cheater’s rules they laid out for us: if you do not know its name, start with Darwin, lava or Galapagos. And we will never forget their explanations of the marine iguana snot-rockets and the land tortoise and cormorant coochie-coochie. The old adage holds true: a bad guide can ruin a trip and a good guide can make one. Hernan and James were superb.
The Flamingo was a beauty. Her cabins were small, but that was to be expected. We were cozy, and the important things (to me) were taken care of. Bed linens were soft and comfy. The rooms were clean. The sun deck was perfect for reading and napping, and the bar was fully stocked. (Priorities!) We ate gourmet meals and wanted for nothing. And did I mention her captain was cute?
Our tour operator was Ecoventura, which is privately owned by Ecuadorian family. They have been in business since 1990, and they know their stuff. They were the first Galapagos touring company to earn the Smart Voyager designation, a program developed by the Rainforest Alliance to promote ecological conservation. Their fleet operates to strict standards to avoid impact to the islands. In fact, one of the sister yachts–Eric–has been fitted with wind turbines and solar panels, making it the first hybrid yacht in the Galapagos. Ecoventura takes their charge to protect the islands seriously, and we felt good about cruising with them. As an aside, our guides told us that each year, all the representatives from all the tour operator companies get together with the national park to negotiate the terms of their respective park uses, including itineraries. Apparently there is a lot of horsetrading involved in those meetings. “We want to be able to go to Rabida.” “Okay, you must trade me a day on Genovesa.” “No way. You’re not getting Genovesa for Rabida.” And so on. I would enjoy being a fly on the wall in those negotiations. All I can say is this: The Ecoventura family must have some serious stroke or have some formidable negotiating powers because our itinerary was first class. If you want to cruise with the pros, check them out. Here’s the link (I think; I’m still learning this blog platform): Galapagos Islands Cruises & Tours, Scuba Diving, Cruise Ship, Yacht Charter To Galapagos Islands
A word about Ecuador (I warned you these observations were random.) Ecuador adopted a new constitution in 2008. It is the first constitution IN THE WORLD to give rights to nature. Its translated Article 71 says, “Nature, or Pacha Mama, where life is reproduced and occurs, has the right to integral respect for its existence and for the maintenance and regeneration of its life cycles, structure, functions and evolutionary processes. All persons, communities, peoples and nations can call upon public authorities to enforce the rights of nature. To enforce and interpret these rights, the principles set forth in the Constitution shall be observed, as appropriate. The State shall give incentives to natural persons and legal entities and to communities to protect nature and to promote respect for all the elements comprising an ecosystem.”
Think about that for a moment–constitutional rights…for nature! What a radical thought. In a world where human rights are not even close to being realized, Ecuador has the audacity to grant rights to nature. Is this hopeless, maybe even a fool’s errand? Probably. But if we save nature, will we possibly save ourselves?
If you have an hour to kill in the car, as I often do, I commend your attention to a Radiolab production about the Galapagos. You can listen to it on your smartphone (handsfree, of course) as you drive, and I guarantee you will be enthralled. Did you ever wonder how to eliminate 200,000 goats from an island chain and thus restore its ecosystem to the tortoises? I’ll give you a few hints: it involves several million dollars, helicopters, sharp shooters, and “Judas goats” with radio collars. Perhaps most importantly, it requires the Ecuadorian government and the national park to have a strong constitution and a willingness to do something bold and controversial to reclaim the islands. To make an omelette, one must break some eggs. Click here: Galapagos – Radiolab and hit the play button. You can ponder questions about how far mankind is willing to go to put back what we have had a part in destroying and how far we are willing to go to bring back what is already gone. It’s fascinating.
On a personal note, I loved the experience of the Galapagos for other, more selfish and less lofty reasons. Genene had an absolute blast with the kids on board, and as a mother, I am happy when she is happy. We all got to listen to the girls’ songs in the back seat of the buses, in the pangas, on the walks. I now know what The viper does, the story of the lady with long, skinny fingers and ruby red lips, the peanut butter sandwich, and ants on a log. Not everything we learned was edifying, but it was fun. At the beginning of the journey, I was worried that she might make “a friend” and leave us all alone. She made seven friends, and we made many more.
Every parent can groan with me as you listen to 13 seconds of “Cow Go, Cow Go Moo!”
When you are in that car or bus, it can be annoying, but I realize that Genene is growing up very fast, and these days will be a distant, happy memory all too soon. I would like to hold onto these times, and I am doing it with this blog.
Another thing I enjoyed was the absolute lack of cell phone service after we left the inhabited islands on the first day of the cruise. I do have a rule about turning off my work emails on vacations, but I still habitually check my personal email, my text messages, Facebook, etc. None of it worked! (I was able to get cell service in the middle of the Serengeti and throughout Peru so I am always surprised at how connected the world is.) After a day or so, when I realized that we were not going to get service, I left the phone plugged into the wall in the closet in my cabin and quit looking at it. I only twitched with withdrawal pangs for a little while, and then, I rediscovered the world. I love Facebook and how it keeps me connected to friends all over the world, but turning it off gave me the chance to get to know the people right beside me on the boat.
Our guides Hernan and James gave us all copies of the video they made for us, and Melanie downloaded it to youtube for all of us to share. (Thanks, Melanie!) In almost every shot of me, I have a camera up to my face. It must have frustrated James and Hernan, who were trying to sneak all these pictures of us. There are also some beautiful wildlife photos mixed in. If you were not on the trip, it might not hold your interest for all 13 minutes, but I shall treasure it forever. It’s a reminder of all the wonderful friends we made “on the road.”
On our last night on the Flamingo, the captain gave us all autographed maps of our journey. We traveled 502 nautical miles together. We saw the wonders of Darwin’s world and came unplugged from our busy day-to-day affairs. I cherish the trip and the people we met on it.
I have struggled to finish this blog. I think part of it may have been intentional on my part. As long as I was still writing, researching, editing…a part of me was still there. I didn’t ride my first airplane until a callback interview in law school, but I’ve been making up for lost time. I love to go to exotic places, and I have a daughter who can compare the cuy in Peru to the cuy in Ecuador. She wants to know when she will get to go to Disneyworld. She told me once, “Mom, I would like to go there before I get too old to enjoy it.” I guess we will have to put it on the list. Our next trip is already planned. We are going to Thailand and Cambodia for two weeks this summer, and we will have new adventures and hopefully make new friends. Another blog!
The Galapagos are the Enchanted Islands, and for a short week, we enjoyed their magic. I do believe we got some “good karma” along the way, and even the night of the rough seas makes for a good story (after the fact). I could go on and on. In fact, I already have. Time to stop dreaming, finish my income taxes and do all the real world tasks that make our travels possible. Genene had a blast and told me she wants to return to the Galapagos (maybe after Disneyworld or Universal Studios). James and Hernan, if you are listening, “Cue the booby!”
When I last left off blogging, our tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew….. well, sing it for yourself. After taking her anti-nausea medicine, Genene slept for 11 hours straight and woke up refreshed and hungry. I slept pretty well myself, at least until the muscle relaxer wore off. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up and realized that the boat was back on smooth seas, and we were not going to end up on Gilligan’s Island. Whew! We met Greg at breakfast and found him no worse for the wear. Everyone was hungry for breakfast and glad to be back on glassy water. There was a palpable feeling of relief as we gathered around the breakfast buffet. One of our guides said that on a scale from 1 to 10, last night’s rough seas were about a 7. Greg, our Coast Guard veteran, says that’s a Galapagos 7, but it’s a Coast Guard 4. I’m sure if we asked a Navy man, he would call it a 2. Every enlisted man likes to wag his….tongue.
The white board:
We and our shipmates were all beginning to function like a well-oiled machine. At panga boarding time, everyone was ready. They had all grabbed their snorkeling gear bags, camera gear and backpacks, and each person boarded the panga like a professional. It was a shame our trip was winding down, just when we were all getting good at it!
Our first stop was Santiago Island. There was a salt mine ruin here, and some of the evidence of the development remained in the form of warehouse remains. Hernan told us some of the crazy stories of the Galapagos. The tales are too involved to tell, but there was a baroness who arrived to the islands with two German lovers. There were some vegetarians already on the island who had removed their teeth to avoid the temptation to eat meat. One of the ladies “really, really loved” her donkey, and Hernan shook his head and made “tsk tsk” sounds when he mentioned it. It all ended badly, when several of these settlers were murdered or disappeared. Years later, the mystery around it all remains. The last family on the island remained there, and the descendants are alive today and own extensive properties. Of course there is speculation that their ancestors were involved in murdering some of the folks who disappeared. I think there is a movie on the subject called “The Galapagos Affair.” Perhaps I will rent that one some time.
There were beautiful lava rock beaches with grottos all around.
Marine iguanas hang out on the beach.
The Flamingo waits for us patiently. While we hiked, snorkeled and swam, shiphand Richard went into each of our cabins, made our beds perfectly and got us ready for the day. Genene brought her stuffed animals Senior and Andrea, and we would always come back to find them tucked into our bed snugly.
The beaches seemed like moonscapes on Santiago Island.
How many sea lions can you find in this photo? I see at least three, including a large bull in the shadows on the right.
Genene took this very interesting photo of iguana tracks.
I think this is a yellow-crowned night heron.
Galapagos flycatcher (I think).
There was a short guided walk just off the beach. Hernan showed us the chala tree and told us of the medicinal value of the juice from its leaves. He asked if anyone had an open sore. I pointed out a small wound on my finger, and he offered to squeeze some of the juice into it. I decided to take a chance. He took the chala leaf and squeezed until a teardrop appeared on the stem. He put the drop onto the open wound. Then he said, “It will begin to itch and burn in a few minutes. Don’t worry. It will only last 4 or 5 days.” Then he smiled and I realized he was kidding, at least about the duration of the symptoms. He was right about the burning. It reminded me of the old-time remedies my mother and dad used on us: mercurochrome and methylate. I remember how we dreaded to show them any open sore. They would apply that red paint, and it would burn like fire. Then it would scab up and get better. Or maybe I was just so glad when it quit burning that I thought it was better. Anyway, the juice of the chala gave the same burn and itch, but after a few minutes, it passed. (I am looking at my finger now a couple of weeks later, and it is completely healed. Perhaps it would have healed anyway, but the chala plant seemed to work for me.)
We strolled to the beach, with beautiful grottos all around. The water was incredibly blue and clear. We saw fur seals and sea lions playing in the surf.
We watched these two swim and play in this beautiful pool:
The crew of the Minnow…ahem, the Flamingo:
Two fur seals commiserate. “Did you hear the one about the baroness and the donkey?”
“Hee haw!”
“Go ahead and jump.”
Hernan strikes a pose. Can you see the marine iguana in the shadows under his foot? Don’t tell the National Park, but I think Hernan may be violating the six foot rule.
A sea lion carries some sea weed in his mouth.
Moe, Curly, and Larry:
Another lava lizard strikes a pose for me.
The lady lava lizard indicates her willingness to do the coochie-coochie by turning red. James likened it to wearing lipstick.
The beach floor looked like this all around. The colorful evidence of life was everywhere.
After our walk, we all went snorkeling from the beach. It was a gorgeous day with good visibility in the water. Genene amazed me with her snorkeling. She acted as if she has been doing it all her life. She couldn’t wait to get in the water and look around. The other kids were equally adept. The water was filled with young explorers.
Genene did not hesitate to dive straight down to explore.
She gets her form from her dad.
Yellow tail surgeon fish.
More schools of fish. The water was teeming with life.
Can you see the ray at upper left of center?
Here’s another look at him with the contrast pumped.
The plants were also beautiful.
Speaking of yellowtail surgeonfish, we saw several schools of them. I like this compilation of footage that Greg took of them. If you watch the whole thing, you can really get an idea for how plentiful they were. We saw many different schools of fish, and I am not well versed enough to name them. My favorite part of this video is when James divides the “herd” at 0:38, and as soon as he swims away, they fill right back in.
The kids enjoyed burying themselves in the black lava sand.
Doug and Melanie recreated the flightless cormorant courtship ritual, while Greg played the part of interloping iguana.
We went back to the boat for lunch. Each day, there was a hearty soup, and several entrees and sides to choose from, all served buffet style. After lunch, the kids played cards or watched videos in the muster area. Most of the parents went to the sun deck or their rooms to read and sleep. I appreciated that most days we got a nice long siesta after lunch.
The view from our dining room:
The kids served themselves on the buffet, while the ever-patient and fabulous Abel tried to keep up with the demands of the hungry sailors.
A typical lunch:
Genene told us that she wanted to sea kayak and we had not taken a turn yet so we put our names on the list. After playing games with her friends in the early afternoon, she came to the cabin about 30 minutes before we were to leave and said that she needed to “recharge her batteries.” We let her nap, and she did not want to wake up at the appointed hour so Greg and I went without her. It was a nice interlude. Greg and I probably do not do enough adult activities without Genene, so we enjoyed this little moment together. We still remembered our seldom used kayaking skills. I was the motor up front, while Greg steered from the back. We paddled along the cliff wall and watched the birds, the marine iguanas and the sea lions. The sea lions were particularly amusing. They laid in the surf and let the waves roll them in and out of the water. Some of them poked their heads up playfully alongside the kayak. We also saw sea turtles swimming in the open water.
We returned to the boat and immediately got ready for a short panga ride to Rabida Island. Genene was hard to wake up, as usual, and we spent a few minutes trying to goad her into doing what she needed to do to get ready. Our panga ride roughly repeated the ground covered by the kayak. We had a wet landing on the beach, and the smell of sea lion poop was in the air. There were a few annoying bugs, which made us want to get into the water that much faster.
The beach at Rabida was rusty red.
Cue the boobies:
We had our last and greatest snorkel off the beach at Rabida Island. One sea lion in particular flirted and played with the kids. He was not the least bit interested in the six foot rule.
It was amazing to watch the kids interact when him. Greg got this GoPro footage. The kids took turns spinning with the sea lion. For my mom’s sake, I’ll point out that Genene is in the blue shirt with the aqua shorts cavorting with the sea lion at 0:19 and again at 0:54. It’s very interesting to see the kids turn flips and in response, the sea lion flips and rolls.
Some of the parents swam around the point in search of sharks. The water got a little more choppy and difficult to swim in, and most of the kids came back pretty quickly and hung out in the panga. I had been following along with Genene and got out of the water when she did. Greg continued on with some of the others.
The kids took turns jumping off the panga. I caught Ellie in a perfect flip.
Genene went in the lazy way.
Greg was one of the last snorkelers to return.
He had some great GoPro footage as a reward. He got several shots of a whitetip reef shark. I am not sure it was wise of him to follow it, but he said it was small. I regret that I did not see this fellow. Greg missed the hammerhead shark that I saw early in the trip, so I guess this whitetip reef shark was his reward.
I compiled this assortment of sea creatures taken by Greg on this day’s adventures: a dead iguana, a fish trying to eat an urchin, some barracuda (maybe), sand dollar, a beautiful spotted ray, and two waving girls.
We ended our last snorkel, boarded the pangas and made our way back to the Flamingo. We had our briefing, and dinner was delicious as usual. We were all beginning to get a little melancholy because James and Hernan had reminded us along the way today, “Last time to see a fur seal. Last time to see a blue footed booby. Last chance for a sea kayak. Last snorkel. ” We all knew that our time together was coming to a close. Tomorrow would be our last full day of adventures together before heading back to reality.
The morning was to be easy, with only one activity before lunch. We sat out on the pangas to explore Elizabeth Bay, where we hoped to see blue-footed boobies and penguins. Our guides had told us we did not even have to wear shoes, because we were not getting out of the pangas. This was my kind of excursion.
First we traveled to the rocky cliff side, and a blue-footed booby stood right there and smiled at us. He must have been the Welcome Wagon. I had been teasing Genene by telling her that all the animals were tame or animatronic. We would ask the guides, “How long did it take you last night to set all those out?” It almost seemed true because we drove the pangas right up to those boobies, and they just stood there gazing back at us fearlessly.
Cue the booby!
Can you see why the pirates called them Enchanted Islands? It was like something out of our science books. Now class, open your books to the chapter titled “prehistoric” and take a look.
Before long, our guides spotted something really spectacular. At an outcropping of rock in the bay, there was a feeding frenzy going on.
It was incredible. There were penguins by the dozens swimming. James told us that they were hunting and churning up the fish and that the birds were hunting cooperatively. There was a school of black-tail mullet below. The penguins were slicing under the water, disrupting the school. The other birds were joining in the fray. There were blue-footed boobies, flightless cormorants, and pelicans by the dozen in the scrum. Even the occasional sea lion swam in the pack. The boobies and pelicans dive-bombed fiercely and without ceasing. The cormorants paddled on the surface, from time to time sticking their faces down and swimming straight down. It was a wonderous sight, and James confided that he had only seen it himself about 5 or 6 times in all his years of guiding tours on the Galapagos.
A booby dives on the right, while the peguin comes up on the left.
Dive! Dive! Dive!
Flightless cormorant interlude. Come back and see me in a millenium, and I will show you my penguin flipper.
Dive!
Again, I was reminded of Alfred Hitchcock. If Norman Bates shows up, I’m outta here!
A pelican and a booby in flight.
Blue footed booby in flight.
At one point, James was narrating, and I thought of the Ringling Brothers ringmaster. James stretched out his hand, pointed and said, “Blue footed booby. Flightless cormorant. Penguin. Sea lion. Pelican.” I thought he was going to say, “Behold, the greatest show on earth.” But he didn’t.
Greg got some incredible underwater footage with his GoPro, and I edited it into one long action-packed segment. If you don’t have time to watch it all, go to 2:14 for my favorite sequence and watch until the penguin buzzes by at 2:35.
We noticed one pelican on the edge of the scrum. His pouch was torn. James told us that he will starve. In the midst of all the life, there is death.
James and Genene strike a pose on the panga.
Nestled in the cliffside, we saw a penguin on its nest.
The blue-footed boobies gather on the rocks.
After watching the feeding frenzy for more than 30 minutes, we motored inland to go into the mangroves. Greg and I were both reminded of “The African Queen.” I kept expecting to see Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn at every bend. Never mind that they are both long dead. There were tributaries and inlets running everywhere like little fingers. James explained that baby sea turtles and baby golden rays make there home there. The mangroves offer some protection from the predators on the high seas. We saw a few sea turtles but we saw at least 50 golden rays traveling in a pack, school, or whatever it is that rays travel in.
“Nature, Mr. Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above.”
I thought the golden rays were incredible. It was just magical to see them floating just under the surface. This is what they looked like from the boat:
And from our underwater camera:
This is a very short but incredible video. They just float along, as if on air.
What an incredible morning of wildlife viewing. We were back aboard at about 10:45, and Abel was waiting with a mid-morning snack. Today, the chef had prepared pizza, which thrilled the kids in particular. Every single bite was gone in a few short minutes.
Our guides told us that we had been seeing a lot of very unusual things, and the feeding frenzy in particular was our good fortune to see. James told us that he believed we are getting “good karma” because we are such a good group. His theory was that our energy was bringing good things to us, and I really think he was not kidding or blowing the proverbial smoke up our butts. It was an amazing group of people. Each time we all gathered, there was hearty laughter all around. The kids giggled and played games. They didn’t even argue.
Our lunch looked like Tex-Mex to me: beans, tortillas, carne asada, salad, fruit and apple pie. At the end of each lunch, Abel comes by with the menu choices for the evening meal. There is always an appetizer, a soup, and main course and dessert. Two main courses are offered, so that is the only choice that has to be made. Greg’s family has always made me laugh because they often start planning their next meal while still at the lunch table. They would have been in heaven here.
Some people chose to go kayaking in the early afternoon, but we elected to stay on the boat and relax.
Whalers and pirates began visiting Isabela in the 18th century, and evidence of their travels exists in the form of graffiti on the cliff walls. As James would say, “It is part of the human history of the Galapagos.” The oldest readable evidence of whalers is from 1836.
At 3:15, we all went deep water snorkeling. We saw several varieties of starfish and a few sea horses.
My little snorkler:
James is pointing out a tiny seahorse hanging out in the seaweed. As fat as I am and wearing a wetsuit to boot, there was no way I was going to get down there for the shot. You will just have to take my word for it.
We returned to the boat, and the kids (and some of the adults) jumped from the boat and into the water.
They started from the first deck. Every single kid took a turn. I was amazed that they were all so fearless.
Go Genene go!
My bigger kid goes off from the second level.
He looks a bit like a flightless cormorant, doesn’t he?
And he sticks the landing!
Monkey see, monkey do. Every single kid went off the second deck as well. Again, what a brave group of kids. They were game for every challenge!
Go Genene!
And finally, El Capitan had to show them all who was the big boss. He went off the sun deck.
Perfect landing. I thought about jumping in after him, but in the end, I decided that would be too obvious.
After the snorkel, there was one other choice of activities for the late afternoon. The passengers could go on another panga ride or take a hike from the cove to a hill top overlooking Darwin Lake. We were lazy and chose the panga ride, along with most of the kids. They squealed and made up games and generally had a good time.
A penguin in the cliff wall.
Two penguins and a marine iguana hang out.
We motored along the cliff edge and peered into the grottos.
We were in luck! Our guide pointed out that we were going to witness a courtship ritual of the flightless cormorant. The male brings pieces of seaweed to the female, which she uses to “feather” the nest where they will incumbate their eggs. James explained that the female examines each piece. He compared it to the human male bringing his fiancee a diamond ring. Is it big enough? Is it good enough?
He approaches. A marine iguana hangs out nearby. Nothing better to do, I guess.
She examines it. “Good clarity. Good cut.”
She accepts the gift.
Waterfall interlude:
And then we saw ANOTHER ONE! A second male was swimming out of the water with his seaweed.
He takes a moment to make himself presentable.
He approaches his lady. I don’t know who those other characters are. There are always bystanders!
Nicely done.
Now go get me another one!
Landscape interlude:
The scenery here was just gorgeous:
Sea lions basked in the rock wall:
Cue the booby!
Oh look! Two boobies! (You knew I would have to get that joke in.)
The face of a fisherman:
I can fish too!
We enjoyed the panga ride very much. The kids looked at the wildlife, between singing songs, playing pattycake games, and making up nicknames for each other. It was just the kind of lowkey afternoon I wanted.
We all got aboard in the late afternoon, and the crew pulled up anchor as soon as the last person set foot on the Flamingo. The other group enjoyed a lovely walk up the hill and said the views were marvelous. The kids played on the top deck, but we noticed pretty quickly that we had some pretty rough seas. We told the kids to stop playing on the top deck, and we all went down to the muster room.
The captain announced on the PA system that we were to “stay inside the boat.” Always a good idea in my book. We understood his point. Walking on the decks was difficult.
Had we brought it on ourselves with all the talk of “good karma”? The Greeks called it hubris. To shorten the scripture from Proverbs, “Pride goeth before a fall.”
We met in the muster area, and the guides told us that they were going to make it quick. Hernan and James said, “We are not even going to use the computers tonight. We do not want you to have to look at the screen. We are going to Santiago Island tomorrow, and wake-up will be at 7:00 AM. There will be a wet landing at 8:30. We will put it all on the white board. The rough seas came suddenly, and we do not know how long they will last. We do know that it is going to get worse in two hours. We suggest that you eat, if you can, and go straight to bed. Dinner is served.”
Hernan confessed that he did not plan to eat and left the room. Of the 20 passengers, only about 8 of us sat down at the dinner table. It was a shame because it was a beautiful seared tuna. Genene was so miserable that we gave her an anti-nausea pill and sent her to bed after the appetizer. Abel did not serve any wine, probably the best idea that anyone had. After the main course, I checked on Genene and she was out like a light.
To my utter amazement, I was able to eat. As I mentioned, I have never been good with motion sickness, but the ear patch was a godsend. I felt a little bit queasy, but I ate supper as normal (without any wine). Greg, Mr. Coast Guard, was completely unaffected. He did not take any kind of medicine and did not seem to need any. He must have been a Viking in a past life. Right after supper, we all headed to bed. There were no songs to be sung on this night. Walking the short journey on deck from the dining room to my cabin was a challenge. The boat rocked and swayed, and I held on to the rail for dear life. When I got to the room, Genene was dead to the world. The guides had warned us that the worst was yet to come, and they had prescribed sleep as the cure for motion sickness. I have been having some trouble with my back and had brought a stash of muscle-relaxers. My back had been doing great, but I turned to the drugs in my time of need. I popped a pill and racked out beside Genene. The bed rocked and rolled for a while, and then I was gone.
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