Traveling is different than vacation. Vacation is for relaxing and having “down time”, but traveling is hard work. Yes, it great fun and there is little else we would rather be doing, but at least the way we travel, it is also a lot of work. We need to have an idea of not only where we want to go and what we want to do, but also how to get there, what is needed before we get there (i.e. visas, plane reservations, arranging for a car to meet you at the airport, etc.), where to stay, where to find food, what the best activities are, etc. On top of the travel, we must try to conjure up something for Christmas, homeschool our kids and still keep up with our regular duties (i.e. preparing for taxes in not too long, making sure our renters are not having any problems in the houses, etc.). As the Count says in the Princess Bride, “I have a marriage to plan, my wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it. I’m booked!”
All OK underwater
After traveling for the better part of a year and a half, we were incredibly tired, the kind of tired where you don’t want to get dressed all day and just want to eat ramen and cold pizza. We didn’t want to have to think about where to go for dinner, what restaurant would have food which was not too spicy for the kids to eat, worry about them getting run over by motos and taxis every time we left our hotel/apartment/room, etc. We just wanted to relax for a while and catch our collective breath. The first place we thought of was Thailand. Colburn and I had gone to Thailand as we ended our last Asia trip in October of 2001. We really enjoyed the ease of travel, the amazing food, and the very kind people we met during that trip. It is also a great place to “splurge” without breaking the bank as the dollar goes pretty far here. We decided that Thailand would be where we would take a vacation from our travel.
A quick internet search landed us with a phenomenal rental villa on a relatively quiet island, Ko Lanta. Unlike its much busier neighbors, Phuket and Ko Phi Phi, Ko Lanta was not wiped out by the 2004 tsunami and has retained its laid back beach vibe despite significant growth in the past few years. To be certain, there are full moon parties, new moon parties, half moon parties and just about every other kind of party, but they are all very low-key in comparison to Phuket and Phi Phi. The population of Lanta is largely Muslim, not Western, so tourism has not steam-rolled the local population as it has elsewhere. It is also somewhat difficult to get to (2.5 hours from the nearest airport including two car ferries). We found a great villa that was a huge splurge for us, but one that we thought we could afford given all the budget-conscious accommodation we had in Nepal and throughout Europe.
Our welcoming towel sculpture. There was a new one most every day.
Arriving in the early evening just as the sun was setting, we were giddy with excitement as the villa was even better than we had anticipated. Located up on a hill with endless views across the Andaman Sea, but only 5 minutes to the main beach area. It is spotless, modern and built with exceptional craftsmanship. Fresh flowers, beautiful towel sculptures, and even a cold beer awaited our arrival. We felt as if we had traveled to a different planet. Definitely not a resort, but with all the conveniences of having a full staff, everything is handled for you by the owners, Luk and Ian, and their staff. If you’d like dinner brought to the villa, just let them know what you want and they will get it take out from their favorite local restaurants then serve it plated in your villa. Need dinner reservations or a driver for the day, no worries. Everything was just perfect for us to relax. We were enjoying having a beautiful, climate controlled, modern home so much that we didn’t even leave the house for the first couple days. We had food brought in, caught up on sleep, played in the pool, did some school and watched videos. We planned the second half of our year and made reservations.
Lucia and Steve
Around day three we began to get a little itchy to do something other than sit around so decided to check out the diving scene. We aren’t really scuba divers, but Colburn and I did do an open water course13 years ago which we loved. We just haven’t had the opportunity to do a lot of diving. Our villa manager called their favorite dive shop and the manager tracked us down at dinner that night. Lee was personable, relaxed, and seems like a really competent yet unpretentious guy. He explained that it would only take a quick refresher to get the adults back up to speed and the kids could do kid-specific intro courses simultaneously – “bubble maker” for Mac (depth limit 2 meters) and “discover scuba” for Lucia (depth limit 12 meters). Everyone was excited to try diving, so we signed up. A bit nervous, we showed up at the dive shop the next day for our pool session. When your 11 year old is going to be breathing under 12 meters of water for the first time, you want to make sure that you have confidence in who will be monitoring her safety.
Mac and Harun
Within minutes of meeting our phenomenal dive instructors, Steve and Harun, we all felt relaxed and comfortable about what we were going to do. Both men are casual yet very professional, genuinely caring, and excellent teachers. A quick review of essentials and some time practicing underwater skills like equalizing your ear pressure, clearing your mask of water and retrieving your regulator should it fall out were accomplished quickly. Harun said that he knew the kids would be fine when he told them to watch his demonstration of regulator retrieval but instead of watching they copied him step for step as he was showing the skill. As the lesson came to a close, he showed us how to blow bubble rings underwater, quickly creating a new obsession for us all.
Lucia working on her bubble rings
The next day we headed out one of the local dive sites, Ko Haa, a collection of six small uninhabited islands about an hour and a half south west of our town. Harun would be Mac’s buddy at two meters and Steve would dive with Lucia, Colburn and me a bit lower. Our first dive together was wonderful. Working our way along the edge of two of the islands along a relatively shallow ledge (15 meters) allowed us all to get used to the process while seeing heaps of reef fishes – three different kinds of puffers, the improbable box fish, scorpionfish, some barracuda, several moray eels (one of which was HUGE), and lots of others. Both kids came up ecstatic, as were we. On the boat with us were Tony and Chris, a wonderful couple from the Netherlands, who were as happy for the children’s success as we were. The second dive was equally as exciting with Mac spotting two sea snakes, a crown of thorns sea star, and a very large grouper. He has an eye for wildlife spotting and his talent showed itself underwater as well. Tired, a little sun-burned, and incredibly happy we motored back to town completely at ease. We had so much fun, we decided to do it again a couple days later with the same crew of people!
At the end of our first dive together, very happy
Beyond the joy of sharing a new experience with your kids, watching them explore the underwater world was wonderful. Lucia said that, while she enjoys watching the wildlife, her favorite parts were feeling like she was flying through the water and playing with the bubbles as she moved along. Like Mac, she has an eye for wildlife spotting, but seems to enjoy the whole process so even if there are not a lot of animals, she still thinks it is awesome. Mac is now adding dive master to his list of possible career options and we can only guess what his perspective will be when he can go deeper than six feet. Colburn and I have always wanted to do more diving, but with young kids, it was not a priority. Now that we can enjoy it as a family, it will definitely be on our radar.
Our group! Harun knew when to focus and when to be silly!
As we came back to our lovely villa at the end of our second day of diving, we were elated by the combination of rest, activity, and having spent time with some incredible people. This might be the most perfect week ever.
This is a hodgepodge of short thoughts we have had recently, none of which warrant a full post so are put together.
A Boy and His Dog(s)
Mac and Brownie
Anybody who knows us, even a little, knows that we love dogs. Apparently, we have passed this affliction on to our children because they both fawn over any friendly dog we pass. We have found dogs to love in nearly every city, town, and hamlet we have passed through. This longing has seemed to intensify during our time in Nepal and Bhutan as Mac has been particularly hard hit by missing our curly dog. When we speak of what we long for about home, Moxie tops Mac’s list most every time. While he misses certain foods, his friends, clean toilets, etc., it is always Moxie that he misses most. Along our trek in the Annapurna region, he was able to find a young Tibetan Mastiff mix to love in every town. They all looked similar so he named each after a candy bar – Bounty, Snickers, KitKat, and Brownie. Each dog would walk us from our guest house to the end of his territory where we would eventually be guided by a different dog from the next town. Mac has been reading a lot of stories about boys and their dogs (i.e. Shiloh, Where the Red Fern Grows, etc.) which seems to allay the loss somewhat, but also seems to intensify the longing as well. That connection is something he desires intensely. Right now the kids are talking about how many and what kinds of dogs will round out our menagerie when we get back. There is something about the bond between a boy and his dog that cannot be substituted, and missing Moxie is one of the more difficult parts of traveling this long.
Mac and Bounty
A Girl Grows Up
We were looking through last year’s photos recently when we realised just how much Lucia has grown up over the past year and one half. No longer a young girl, she is now an independent, capable, witty and aware young woman entering her tween years with grace and a level head. She has also developed a keen awareness of the role of inequality in the world. For example, while hiking in Nepal, we walked for a while with a transgender woman. After we parted ways, Lucia wondered out loud how the process happens which led us to a discussion of the role of hormones in the development of male or female characteristics. As I explained how exogenous testosterone can change physical appearance (i.e. hair on the face and chest, greater muscle mass, deeper voice, etc.), she, without missing a beat, adds, “And, of course, greater job opportunities.” At 11, she has recognised the pervasiveness of gender-based inequality across the globe – an unintended, but wholly welcome, lesson. Also showing wisdom beyond her years, after getting on Instagram after a couple weeks without internet, she said, “I am so tired of all the selfies on Instagram! Don’t my friends have anything better to do with their time?” Yes, honey, I sure hope they do, but what they look like is the most important thing in the world to them right now. We can only wonder what re-entry will be like for her. Perhaps we are simply providing something for her to go to therapy about later in life.
Lucia and Mac with Auntie Mar just before we leftLucia now
The Bickersons
Often we are asked if it is difficult to spend so much time together, if we we are constantly at each other’s throats. The reality is no – not at all – it may seem like it from the outside but it’s really quite enjoyable. This is not to say that traveling together is always easy, but we are quite happy together and have worked out who does what within the family. Colburn is in charge of money and restaurants, Deb is in charge of reservations and logistics, Lucia now makes sure we don’t leave too much stuff behind because we have lost 6 water bottles since August, and Mac makes sure we have snacks and water. We all have a role to play, but one of the unintended consequences of being together all day, every day for a year and a half is that our marriage has matured at an accelerated rate. We’ve become an old married couple much earlier than our 18 years together would indicate. Perhaps it stems from being more comfortable with and up front about our individual strengths and weaknesses, perhaps it is not having the distractions of work and school to temper our actions, perhaps it is just the consequence of so much time together – something most couples don’t really do until retirement – it is difficult to tell why. From the outside it may look as if we are arguing about trivial things, but the reality is that it is much more of a form of playful banter and not really an argument at all. You can’t spend this much time together and not get along. We love each other more and more each day.
Having fun in CaliforniaHaving fun in Mustang
Holding on and Letting Go
Traveling together for an extended period has brought us to the realisation that life really is a matter of deciding what needs to be held on to and what needs to be let go. Hold on to your children, let go of your preconceived notions of who they should be. Hold on to principles and let go of steadfast rules. Hold on to simple routines, let go of expectations that everything will go the way you think it should. Hold on to what matters most to you – people you love, beliefs, dreams – and let go of anything or anyone who does not support you in those things. Hold on to tradition even when letting go is easier. The list goes on. In fact, it might even be the theme for our book, should we ever write one…..
If there is one thing that this trip has taught us, it is that we tend to take the more difficult path towards our goals. We rarely choose the easy way. Trekking in Nepal was no different. We faced a conundrum choosing among the myriad of hiking possibilities, each with their own benefits and drawbacks. We considered doing the Annapurna Circuit, but decided that it would be much too crowded at this time of the year. We really liked the Tibetan culture and arid landscapes of Upper Mustang, but the permit is crazy expensive ($500 for 10 days) and it involved a lot more logistics. We almost chose Langtang, but then thought that it involved too much looping back to the same spot which could be difficult to motivate the kids. Finally we chose Goyko Lakes to the Everest Base Camp. It is one of the more challenging treks in Nepal because of the altitude, has great scenery and would be a great way to see the classic Himalayan views.
Typical Lunch Stop
Our last few days in Paris were focused on indulging in little luxuries while getting ourselves psyched up for the challenge of 14 days of difficult trekking without showers, internet, or food other than rice and lentils. When we checked the weather before we left Europe, we became a bit apprehensive as we watched a large cyclone that had caused flooding in India heading towards Nepal. Trekking in snow is just not very much fun, especially when you are a kid with short legs, and we weren’t prepared for winter weather. We talked to the trekking company to see if it would be possible to change our route if the weather stayed wintry. “No problem” said the owner, “we will talk when you get here.” Relieved we boarded our plane for the little more than hour and a half flight from Delhi to Kathmandu.
Our first indication that something may not be right was when the captain announced that all flights were being diverted because of weather in Kathmandu. He didn’t sound hopeful. After spending the better part of an hour on the ground in Lucknow, India, we were told that Kathmandu remained closed so all flights were to return to their origin. Since we had come from Delhi, it was only a little over an hour back, but it was also 5:00 in the afternoon and there wouldn’t be any planes out until tomorrow. Humm – what to do? Without an Indian visa we could not leave the airport and we were already pretty tired because we had come in on a red-eye from Paris. Colburn and I considered our options. The thought of sleeping in the Delhi airport was a bit unsettling, but not out of the question as we have done it in JFK, Nairobi, and Johannesburg.
What followed was, without a doubt, one of the longest and most arduous days of our travel so far. Lucia had caught her yearly strep throat when we were in Paris and it was making its way around to each of us, so we didn’t start with much reserve. There were so many people stranded by the combination of flooding in India and weather in Kathmandu that the airport hotel was overflowing. The kind folks at Air India were eventually able to finagle a way for probably 100 of us without Indian visas to spend the better part of a night in a hotel near the airport. We had to surrender our passports to immigration officials without so much as a note or receipt, but since we were such a large group it seemed a small risk all in all. They fed us a dinner and arranged for buses to take us to and from the hotel. They even added an additional flight to the next day so that all the passengers could eventually make it to Kathmandu. Although frustrating because of the lack of communication about what was happening (twice we were roused out of our sleep to be told we had to be on the bus “right now”) , they really did bend over backwards to help us through the evening. I can’t imagine a US airline doing half as much as they did because of a weather delay. Twenty eight hours after we were supposed to land, we eventually made it to Kathmandu, through the rugby scrum of immigration, and to our hotel, exhausted and relieved. Traveling takes grit.
As we checked the weather to see what the forecast was for the Everest region, we saw that it was indeed a continued “wintry mix” of rain and snow with temps hovering near freezing – our least favourite weather to hike in. When we looked at the other areas, only Mustang had clear weather predicted for the upcoming week. Annapurna, Langtang, and Everest all had mixed weather, but Mustang had a big orange “clear and sunny” icon. When we talked about it with the kids, they were very enthusiastic about trekking in Mustang as we have often spoke with them of our time in Tibet. They wanted to see what it looks like for themselves. Also, as we learned about the incredible numbers of trekkers stranded, caught in avalanches, and otherwise in danger from the unusual weather in the Annapurna region, we felt even more confident that Mustang would be a good choice. Working miracles, our trekking company was able to arrange for us to go to Upper Mustang starting just one day later. Kudos to Nepal Social Treks for the flexibility!
Flying in on a 18-seater plane to Jomsom for the start of our trek was one of those times when, as a parent, you question your own judgement. The weather was perfect for flying – clear, sunny, with incredible amounts of snow on the high peaks. The Annapurna Range is spectacular. Pictures cannot do it justice as these are absolutely GIGANTIC mountains. They dwarf the Sierras, Rockies and Andes. Our little plane flew parallel to the range for 30 or so minutes in the early morning sun. Like something out of a movie, we were oohing and aaahing, when the plane took a hard right turn and started heading up a small valley between two very large peaks, Nilgiri and Dhaulagiri. Small clouds clung to the steep walls. There were large waterfalls cascading down either side. Suddenly we found ourselves observing the mountains close up on either side of the plane rather than from a distance, almost as if we had entered a tunnel. I couldn’t help but think of the Far Side cartoon where the copilot says to the pilot, “Hey, what are those mountain goats doing up here in the clouds?” Flying up the valley we were awestruck when the runway appeared and rose up to meet the landing gear of our plane. In the blink of an eye, we were on the ground, nearly skidding to a stop.
A short three minute walk from the airport lead us to a tea house/hotel where we met our porters, Mr. Lama and Mr. Kumari, both local farmers who use their portering wage to supplement their income. As frequently happens when changing from one region or culture to another, we were initially struck (and a little intimidated) by the dusty, gritty environment of Jomsom. After spending two months in the orderliness and sterility of western Europe, my first thought was, “oh my, I forgot about this part of Asia.” Not sure how the kids would react, we were watching for any signs of distress. There were none visible. Lucia had to go to the bathroom and was uncertain how to handle the Asian squat toilet but a quick lesson got her up to speed and we were on our way, hiking up the valley.
Our goal for this trek was Lo Manthang, capital of the Forbidden Kingdom of Lo, a five-day (58 km) walk up the valley. Located on a centuries-old trans-Himalayan trade route, the Kingdom of Lo held a strategic and powerful position between India and Tibet. Being in the rain shadow of the Himalayas, the people are Tibetan in physical appearance, language, and culture. The people of Lo were not subjected to the demands for change imposed as part of the cultural revolution in what is now China, so in many ways have retained a fairly pure form of Tibetan Buddhism. The area was annexed by Nepal in the 1600s, but left largely untouched by outside influences until it was opened to tourism in the mid 1990s. In fact, the king (who only ceased to be considered the king in 2008) has a direct lineage back to the 14th century founding of the kingdom. The people of Lo take great pride in the fact that things go on as they have for centuries in Lo Manthang.
The first day and a half of hiking were easy, mostly along the Kali Ghandaki (Black River) valley floor. The terrain is rocky, almost always along a jeep road made up of river cobbles of varying sizes. Yes, there are undulations, but of a mild sort that only take 20 or 30 minutes to climb. As we finished our second day, our pleasant journey up the broad river valley ended abruptly with the steep walls of the upper canyon forming a barrier to continued progress. We climbed steeply to a bench overlooking the entire 20 km we had walked so far. It was phenomenally beautiful.
Our guide, Achut, had told us that the next day would be more difficult. Always be wary when your guide says something like that. It is a kind of a cruel foreshadowing that they do. Our first days were not difficult by any means, but they were enjoyable. We were ready for a step up in challenge….if we only knew how much more difficult it was, we may have thought differently. Day 3 involves crossing three different passes and a total of 21 km. In between each pass we descended steeply for a few hundred meters to cross a river before heading back up the other side. The cumulative effort that it took was substantial. Before lunch, as we headed up our second pass, I felt defeated. I simply couldn’t keep the pace walking the vertical stone steps which took us down then up out of each of the river valleys. I had been fighting off a low-level bronchitis that started as we left Paris. The aerobic effort needed up the stairs would leave me in coughing spasms that were so bad I couldn’t catch my breath. It felt like my lungs were those of a life-long smoker who can’t walk up a flight of stairs without resting. The kids were fine. Colburn was fine. I was miserable. I had thought that biking 1,000 km would have improved my stamina, but I guess I was not the right type of preparation for this type of activity.
Nearly in tears, I asked Colburn to carry the family water tank (3 litres). He graciously carried the extra weight and eventually I dragged my sorry excuse for an ass in to lunch. Noodle soup never tasted so good, but we still had one more pass to cross before we made it to our hotel. This pass was not as steep as the others, but it was longer and grinding. Achut could see that I was tired, out of breath, coughing, and generally miserable so offered to carry my pack. “No, thanks, I can do it myself” I responded. He said, “Madame, really it is no problem for me. I am used to walking in these hills. Please, let me carry your pack.” My pride was mortally wounded. First I had to get rid of the water, then I had to get rid of my entire pack to make it over a damn “hill” – not even a mountain, he called it a hill for Christ’s sake. Tail between my legs, I coughed my way to the pass and down to our next town. Sitting in the dining room that night, sipping a cup of tea and licking my wounds, I met two young women hiking the same route. One was born and raised in Nevada, the other New York. They, too, were “surprised” by the challenge of the day. I felt a little better knowing that it wasn’t just me.
The next day was supposed to be not as difficult as yesterday according to Achut. “Good,” I thought, “I don’t want another one of those days.” We started off with a gentle uphill. I continued to cough, but was okay. About an hour in to the day, Mac said, “I guess yesterday really wore me out, I’m not feeling so good.” He didn’t look good either. His rosy cheeks, pale skin, and warm forehead all told a not-so-good story. He was walking, but slowly. Each step took effort. This day had two passes, each supposed to take about three hours. As we crested our first pass at four and a half hours, we knew we had to relieve Mac’s misery. He kept going, saying that it was okay, but he was sick, everyone could see it. The kid’s got a great attitude about these things. One of the unfortunate parts about a trip like this is that when you are sick, you can’t just go home and rest. Sometimes you have to just keep going even when you don’t feel well. Achut tried to find us a room for the night at the lunch stop, but no luck – everything was booked.
Looking for alternatives, he found a guy with a couple horses we could hire. Plunking Mac and Lucia (just because she likes to ride) on horses, we headed up our final pass of the day. Like the day before, this was a long grinding uphill on loose gravel. The path climbs steeply across a sidehill. Even Colburn who, in nearly 20 years of hiking together, has never once said to me that a trail was too steep, said, “I don’t know if I can go over one more f#$^&*@ pass like this!” I was glad that the kids were on horses because I was so distraught, I don’t know that I could have possibly helped them through it. It was a kind of self-preservation thing – at that moment, I could only think about myself and getting enough air in to my wheezing lungs to make it up the hill. Nine and one half hours later, we made it to Tserang, our town for the night. Again, feeling defeated and truly wondering where the fun was, we collapsed in to bed for the night.
The human body is amazing because the next morning Mac awoke cheery, energetic, and ready to go. Unlike my slow lingering malaise, the virus had hit him suddenly and hard then left quickly. Although it didn’t seem possible at the time, my cough was getting worse and the wheezing increasing. This meant that I needed to start antibiotics because bronchitis (even the kind with horrible coughing) is usually viral and antibiotics don’t do any good. But, when it starts getting worse a week or two in to it, you begin to worry about a secondary bacterial infection or pneumonia. I could hear the fluid bubbling in my lungs each time I took a breath. This wasn’t good. No wonder I hadn’t been able to walk. Fortunately, the day was all downhill and only four hours. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy as we say. It was a beautiful day. Easy walking, kids talking, and great vistas all the way in to Lo Manthang. “Now this is why we do this!” I thought to myself. As the antibiotics kicked in, I began to feel better. Mac was better. We felt the accomplishment of making it to our destination despite the challenges we faced. It takes grit to travel and sometimes you have to let go of your pride and let someone else to carry your pack to make it to your destination.
Lo Manthang is beautiful. A medieval walled city of 170 or so structures, life there goes on as it has for centuries. Women work the fields and tend the children. Men care for the animals and operate the businesses. Winter is the season for which the rest of the year is spent preparing. We toured the local monasteries, took a horse ride to the super cool local caves, and enjoyed the feeling of being incredibly far away. Walking more than 30 hours to cover 60 km took us back two centuries.
The trip out was much easier than the one in. We were all feeling well, so the days, though difficult, were enjoyable. As they frequently do when we are hiking, the kids spent hours walking in near constant discussion about MineCraft. While making our way up one exceptionally long (800 meter) ascent, they planned several new worlds including one that has rooms for all of their cousins, one that has mini-villages of all the different places we have been, and another that will be their Christmas gifts to each other. While I don’t like them glued to their screens all of the time, it is amazing to me how they use MineCraft to process what they see and experience. They also put a great deal of effort and planning they put in to what they build prior to actually doing anything. They have drawings of where things are going to go, lists of what will be included in each chest, etc. The benefit for us when we are hiking or trekking is that once they get talking about MineCraft they hike for literally hours with great enthusiasm. I know that there is much debate about the addiction elementary school aged kids have with MineCraft, but I can only say that our kids can walk incredible distances as they are thinking it.
The trek to Upper Mustang was an extraordinary experience. It was physically demanding, culturally fascinating, and geographically beautiful. Perhaps one of the best things about long term travel is the ability to share these kinds of experiences with our children. They have seen us struggle and are learning from how we handle those challenges. Since we don’t always have the answers (i.e. where are we eating tonight, how long will it take, what are we going to do about….), they are learning to live with uncertainty and no longer think that Mom and Dad have all the answers. Through our experiences, we have witnessed what life is like for those for whom life is not as comfortable as ours and have developed a greater appreciation for the luxuries we usually take for granted. As we spend time in more cultures, we have learned that although people may dress differently, look different, or speak different, we all strive for the same basic things in life – security, love, comfort. That’s a pretty good thing for a kid to know.
The Shindells - Four to Go 