Treacherous Seas

The storm roared throughout the night, though it never seemed to dump the buckets of rain I expected or provided the light show that I desired. Husband and I hardly slept with the wind whipping nonstop across the island, slamming the shutters open and shut constantly against the hard wood of the bungalow. Even lashing them closed did not stop the racket, and the shutters continued to thump throughout the night.

We woke up to clear skies, but rough waters. The boat was delayed about half an hour, waiting for the chop to die down, allowing us plenty of time to enjoy a last breakfast on the island. Nobody was envious of the trip we had in front of us. We had a late afternoon flight and were "only" a three hour boat ride from the pier and from there a quick jaunt to the airport, so at this point I wasn't worried. The trip on the tender boat to our ferry should have been my “red flag” warning. Even lightly loaded down after splitting the group in two and not carrying the weight of food, moving slowly through the break, and in the relative protection of the cove, we were fighting against the combined strength of the waves and the wind that worked together to do everything it their power to soak us.

We finally boarded the big boat and hunkered down with our travelling companions: seven guests ending their stay on Koh Rong, the co-owner of Lonely Beach, and the captain. After packing up all of our luggage in dry bags and pulling out some life jackets (hopefully only to use as cushions), we were off...

The sea was angry that day, as if mocking our comments from the trip over. No reflections in glass this time, just an endless series of whitecaps. Our handmade boat had to overcome four to six foot seas, with even bigger swells found mixed between. We did our best to keep the water out. Down came the canvas sides to keep out some of the spray, but nothing could stop the full bodies of water that crashed over our bow whenever we fell into the trough of the waves. We were thankful for our luggage being in the dry bags, but after the first few splashes to the face, we were jealous of the protection and warmth they offered. The boat began taking on more and more water with every passing wave, each time the weight of the water causing our boat to ride a little lower in the sea, meaning we would take on a little extra water from the next surge. Our crew began to become concerned when water started splashing up between the floor boards and was sloshing around the engine. When we rocked from side to side, our backs would get wet from the accumulated water sliding up the inner walls of the boat. A glimpse aft showed no water coming out of the bilge pump. Not good. Another large wave broke a 50 gallon jug of water free, adding its fresh contents to the salt water splashing below our feet. Worse. After fiddling with some knobs to no success, our captain scrambled up front with the passengers, handing control of the boat over to the owner. The captain shuffled people around and started to disassemble the boat. Floor boards came up, and the captain went diving below, into the quickly rising pool of water. He pulled out handfuls of debris – leaves, candy wrappers, crushed beer cans, and more undetermined refuse. Slowly the bilge pump came alive and started to spit out water faster than we could take it on, but we were never fully empty for the remainder of our trip.

Fixing the pump did nothing to lessen the waves. I was frightened, panicked. I was shaking terribly. Holding back tears, I was embarrassed. And I felt awful. Total misery. Of all the borderline experiences I have had traveling, this one "ranks" high above the rest. I can honestly say I have never been so terrified. For the duration of this petrifying cruise, I kept forcing Husband to promise he would not give up in the swim to shore when the boat cracked under the pressure of the seas. The other travelers faired only slightly better, with most trying to spread out as much as possible to help their sea sickness and avoid being tossed about by the worst of the waves. Some were more successful than others, with a few having to duck under the canvas coverings for a clear path the ocean below. The lucky ones got spot further back in the boat up on the benches where they could be relatively dry. Some braved laying on the floor, where their stomach dropping was the precursor to the boat falling into a trough between waves before the inevitable deluge that rained down upon them.

After an hour making little to no progress on our approach to the mainland, taking one step back for every two steps forward, the decision was made to pull the boat into the lee of an island to wait for calmer seas. We were warned the turn towards the island might not go well, as it would expose our broadside to the full force of the waves. The turn was as treacherous as it was sold to us. I have zero idea how the captain kept the boat from capsizing. After scurrying back to where we came from, we anchored amongst a few dozen other boats and within shouting distance of some very fancy looking villas where the guests looked on bemusedly at us with their mimosas in hand. I was relieved to be able to get off the boat and the hard earned few minutes of respite on land, only to be crushed when I found out that we would not be getting off the boat and instead would sit there at anchor, bobbing up and down. We waited for about an hour and a half, getting rocked back and forth as the waves rolled off the angry sea and only being slightly deflected by our island protector. Though I was calmer, and felt much better than when we were fighting the sea, I was still un-amused.

The day was nearing 11:00 am as we set out on calmer seas - although still not sufficiently calm for my liking. I turned on a podcast - not actually listening and instead repeatedly counting my blessings - to pass the time while water splashed into the boat from all angles and my body slammed against the wooden bench that I had laid down on. The hour was getting late and we had a plane to catch. If we were going to make it, we would have arrive at port soon and then not walk, but run across whatever series of planks were between us and the pier. The clock was now our enemy. The boat puttered slowly, but steadily towards the mainland which gradually grew from a mirage on the horizon, to a dark mass, to a green strip populated by ever expanding buildings. We finally arrived at the pier around 3:00 pm. Hallelujah. Our taxi was waiting on the pier ready to take us away, but there was one last bit of drama for us to undertake. An extra 20 minutes to find a “parking” space for our boat, or at the very least an accommodating boat to allow us to double park and scramble across. After an approximately 57 point turn, our boat got along side another, allowing us to jump on board and cross our final plank to be once again safe on land. The total boating time returning was more than double our ride to Koh Rong.

We jumped in the waiting taxi for a ride to the airport and because the boat ride wasn't enough drama: We had a flight to catch and time was getting short. There would not be another flight until the next day, a connection to make, and our bicycle tour was leaving – with or without us – at 7am sharp the next morning. We sacrificed the tranquility and quaintness of a final Cambodian tuk tuk ride on this leg of our journey for the speed a car. As we were pulling into the airport, our taxi driver pointed to the runway and laughingly said, "Do you see all those birds? Yesterday they made a plane crash and had to come back down." Husband did not react. It was only later I confirmed I had heard the driver correctly. He clearly was not on the edge I was.

At the airport, our bags were marked priority to make the connection and we received red "Transit" stickers to display on our persons to let airport personnel know we had a connecting flight in Siem Reap, making us feel very special. We made our first flight with some (very little) time to spare! During our layover, I even had time to get Dairy Queen because it presented itself and I was in no mood to combat any cravings.

(Not so ironically, given a choice, Dairy Queen is what I would choose for my last meal (with a side of bagels, donuts, M&Ms, and popcorn. (Please and thank you.)))

We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City and had another thrilling ride to the hotel through rush hour traffic. Our taxi driver was the happiest, old Vietnamese man. He welcomed us to his city with open arms and for our 45 minute, heavily trafficked trip, chanted the only English he knew in his high pitched voice at the thousands of mopeds as they narrowly avoided each other and catastrophe: "oh my gaaawd!" He mocked the city to our delight, pointing here and there for our viewing pleasure at all the crazy sights to be seen on a Saigon night.

Another overly friendly Vietnamese gentleman greeted us at the hotel. Our arrival was eagerly awaited with cold-ish drinks and fresh-ish fruits and all of the arrangements for our morning departure made. After being escorted to our room in a very tight, very slow, very humid, and very un-air-conditioned elevator, we hit the streets for a street food dinner. We struck gold just around the corner from our hotel where several vendors had set up a mini outdoor food court with their carts surrounding a small square filled with picnic tables where they delivered your hot food. We gorged on delicious pork noodle soup, bahn mi, fish with quail eggs, and some meat stuffed steam dumplings. Then it was time for our first, much needed real shower after a few sandy days on the beach, a salty boat journey to Sihanoukville, and a smoggy night on the town in Saigon, followed shortly after by bed, much past our normal sundown bedtime. Our time relaxing was over, adventure time started in the morning.

Temples of Angkor

The early wakeup call was a theme that we established early on. Today, we were up at 4:30 am to catch sunrise at Angkor Wat. We took a tuk tuk to go watch the sun s-l-o-w-l-y rise from the outer moat of the complex. Due to the humidity, we didn't see the best sunrise. It was definitely worth the try!

When the sun had fully risen, we sat at one of the many restaurants surrounding Angkor Wat and munched on our four types of bread and an equal number of bananas provided by our hotel. Then it was at last time to go inside. I was real antsy by this point. Visitors littered the grounds, but as a result of the vastness of the temple, it didn't feel overly crowded.

We spent about three hours touring Angkor Wat and learned a wealth of information (very little of which I remember). Our tour guide, Mr. Ti, was a walking fact book. Husband listened while I frustrated myself trying to capture the scope of it all. The position of the sun (and my aging camera) greatly compromised my artistic ability.

This is a little about what I do remember, specifically regarding Angkor Wat: This UNESCO World Heritage Site is the largest religious monument in the world. (This marks my second 'seven world wonders' after visiting the Great Pyramids in Spring 2008.) The modern name, Angkor Wat, means Temple City in Khmer. Angkor Wat was built in the first half of the 12th century. The estimated construction time of the temple is 30 years and was commissioned by King Suryavarman II. The temple was originally constructed as a temple to the Hindu gods, but was transformed into a Buddist temple at the end of the 12th century, which continues to present day.

On our visit, we walked in through the west gate and out the east where our tuk tuk driver was waiting to transport us to Ta Prohm, the Jungle Temple. Ta Prohm was particularly crowded during our time. The "jungle" has likely made this temple popular with tourist like ourselves (not to mention it being featured in the Tomb Raider movie). The temple was much smaller than Angkor Wat, with lots of tight spaces between the crumbling corridors and large tour groups posing for pictures. Unlike most Angkor-ian temples, Ta Prohm has been left largely un-restored with the trees slowly pushing their way between temple walls to reclaim the jungle as their own.

The temperatures as we toured were incredibly hot and humid, only made worse by the beating sun. Wearing the temple-appropriate clothing - covered knees and shoulders - was pretty miserable. There were plenty of ill-dressed Tourasians, loud Americans, and Eurotrash. The disrespect these people displayed was disappointing!

Though Ta Prohm was largely untouched, it was an exception and throughout the Temples of Angkor, there are constant preservation and restoration efforts. Given the age and the ornate detail of all the temples, the need for continuous conservation is easily understandable.

Lunch was next of the docket. We dined at a slightly nicer restaurant because Mr. Ti highly discouraged our street food habits. We had chicken amok and fat noodles - both were good, though continued the trend of overly-sweet-should-be-savory-food. The fans and restrooms, part of the upscale dining experience, made the prices of this meal quite a bit more than the standard we'd been paying.

With full stomach, we were back to temple-ing. We closed out the afternoon as part of the Small Circuit tour visiting Angkor Thom, literally "Great City," which is comprised of multiple temples. We visited the Terrace of Elephants, Phimeanakas, Baphuon, and Bayon.

The Terrace of Elephants was used by Angkor's King Jayavarman VII as a platform from which to view his victorious returning army and welcome visiting dignitaries.

Phimeanakas is a Hindu temple in the shape of a three tiered pyramid. The colors of the stones on this temple were beautiful. This was also one of the more evident examples of the steep stairs leading to the top on two of the sides. The steep staircases facing east and west and were ceremonial and only meant for the use by the gods. The north and south facing stairs were to be used by the kings and the people.

Baphuon is a three tiered mountain temple. And it sounds crazy, but the higher up we climbed, the hotter it got. The extreme temperatures were almost unbearable but the views were incredible! We learned about quite a bit about the custom of converting between Buddist and Hindu temples over the centuries depending on the preference of the current king. This particular temple had a Buddist face carved in the walls when it was converted in the late 15th century. The statue is huge - sitting nine meters tall by 70 meters long on the west side's second level. In other temples the desecration of the former religious idols were more evident in the removal of Budda heads or conversion of Hindu goddess to something more Buddist appropriate.

Bayon temple's distinctive feature was the 216 serene and smiling stone faces on the towers which jut out from the upper terrace and cluster around its central peak. These stone carvings depict the face of the king and a message of spiritual worship. This is a place where the teachings of Buddhism and Hinduism co-exist in a unique spiritual balance.

Mr. Ti was also a big fan of pictures and had us posing in several of his favorite, very specific places.

And with that, our 17 kilometer temple tour was complete! In much need of decompression and downtime, I convinced Husband we were due for a walk around the dusty roads near our hotel. We grabbed iced coffee with milk, a meat pie from a bakery, more crispy pork belly - our snack of choice - from a roadside stall, and toured a more authentic local shopping center.

Do I even need to say it? After all this activity and the early rise, we were off to bed at sundown.

Jamaica Reflections

The first four days provided quick, powerful rains. I wish I had savored them even more. I was in a routine of assuming this was a daily event, and spent the rest of the vacation hoping for more. The rains in Washington, DC are ever lacking, so I relish when a good rain presents itself--no matter where in the world I find myself. I still miss the Lesotho rains on the tin roof of my school, nothing will compete with those! I briefly mentioned the Jamaican rains resulting in rainbows. I'm unsure if this was just the coincidence in the rains I saw, but how's that for every rain providing a follow up rainbow. I certainly won't forget the spectacular-ity of such events.

There are crabs all over Jamaica. I've never visited a place where the crabs roam as freely. In Jamaica, I had to watch where I stepped to avoid crushing them. The land is their land, clearly And boy are the crabs shy! They're not apt to photography; I tried my level best, but routinely came up shy.

Typical of most foreign nations, the signage is intriguing. There is not a sign in Jamaica I wouldn't stop to read. I shot more than 100 photographs of various signs along the way. While I recognize I could use some schooling in grammar and punctuation, there is certainly a lack of editing prior to printing throughout Jamaica.

There are feral and stray dogs galore. While those mutts were harmless, there were unfriendly guard dogs everywhere. I did manage three runs in Treasure Beach, though I often felt unsafe. The dogs lining property fences pop out of nowhere. There were several "guard" dogs (along with strays) that seemingly just wanted to follow me, whether walking or running, but the unpredictable snarls were enough to keep me at unease and allow my mind to wander. What would I do if I was attacked while venturing around? I've never really been a risk taker, I'm less so in my late 20s.

The Jamaican tide is unchanging. There is no low or high tide. There is a shoreline (or retaining wall) that remains constant throughout the day and night. This was a first to me. I'm curious as to why the tide doesn't change, or if there are places in Jamaica where it does.

The colors - both painted and natural - made the entire country radiate energy.

There were abandoned house everywhere. If you're looking for a water-front, fixer-upper, Jamaica is the place for you and yours. While some of these houses look as though they were loved and cherished at one point, others look at those the builder/developer was distracted mid-task. The whole of it is quite bizarre.

The fish of is so, so bony. And while yummy, it's a whole lot of work, unless you're local and you know exactly what you're doing. For those of us travelers, it's a welcomed slower pace.

And despite starting the trip by vomiting my guts out after a treacherous ride and beginning the second day by ruining the sheets with a bloody nose, I hope that won't be the last of my travels with the B family.

Jamaica: Day 10

Our flight left Montego Bay at 11:50 am, but we spent the entire morning at the airport because Boyfriend likes to be prepared. We officially arrived at 9:40 am, and after having checked in and gone through the most thorough security check of our lives, we were at the gate a full two hours early. In addition to the plethora of time I spent roaming the 17-gate airport,  I was able to finish a third book on this trip.

These are some fun facts about Sangster International Airport I learned while grumpily passing time.

1. The five minute taxi ride from the Hip Strip in Montego Bay costs $18.00 (and four Red Stripe beers, in our case).
2. The departures portion of the airport is much grander than the arrivals portion. 
3. The exact same trinkets sold in the 394 stores on the Hip Strip can be purchased in the comfort of air conditioning at the airport for roughly the same cost--rates remain negotiable.
4. About every four gates, the concourse/hallway/walkway becomes a Duty Free shop. That makes about four in an itty bitty allotment of space. There isn't much more than alcohol to gawk at, and less rum that one might expect. Since we weren't checking a bag, there wasn't even a chance of shopping.  
5. Juici Patties are sold frozen in bulk. As to what you're supposed to do with 24 frozen meat pies before a flight, I'm not sure. 
6. There is a Cinnabon, Domino's, Moe's, Quiznos, Wendy's, and not one but two Auntie Anne's, Dairy Queens, and Margaritavilles in the airport (re: 17-gate airport). I was particularly excited about the DQ until I saw the cost of a mini blizzard runs $6.00 (instead of the $2.89 I recall last paying).
7. There are no water fountains to be found. That's particularly awesome, since no water is allowed through security and all flights leaving Jamaica are international (i.e., long). 

Our flight to Charlotte, North Carolina was packed with exhausted vacationers worried about the combination ice and snow storm sweeping the South. The second leg of our flight was equally packed, and we were thrilled to be on the one flight to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport that was not cancelled. We were due for some good luck, and we fully appreciated it after some miserable delays last leaving Kansas City, Boston, and Chicago.

After a sluggish Metro ride, we were home sweet home in a snowy city in time for Boyfriend's program--Jeopardy.

Jamaica: Day 9

When I awoke, a part of me wished I was home. I wasn’t sure how I’d spend an entire day in Montego Bay. I felt as though I'd seen the sites (to be seen) the day before. Plus, I was warned most of Downtown and Uptown would be closed in observance of Sunday. Via a quick Google search, I was still struggling to find authentic cuisine on the Hip Strip. I set out determined to allow the day to run its course. As is well documented here, this is not something I’m particularly good at.

Boyfriend and I stumbled into Chili Pepper where the menu outside displayed items we had in mind—ackee and saltfish, round two. After sitting down, our waiter handed us a menu that listed none of what drew us in. Upon asking, she was delighted to serve the “whiteys” traditional food. The plates were hefty, and we delighted her even further by finishing every last drop. On full stomachs, it only seemed logical to stake out a place for our last dinner. We accomplished that goal, then landed afterwards at Café Tastey for a cup of Blue Mountain coffee. I simply cannot drink enough of the Blue Mountain goodness.

(Note on Jamaican Coffee: Even though I already purchased coffee to bring home, through a local roaster in Treasure Beach, I was stunned by the prices of Blue Mountain Coffee here in Montego Bay. The going rate is at least $30/lb, but, as with everything, rates are negotiable.)

Ship Day

Around noon, we bought day passes to a local beach and camped out until after sunset. Just before sunset, we treated ourselves to one last round of fancy cocktails. The crowded beach, due to ‘ship day’ in Montego Bay, was mostly deserted by sunset.

From the beach, we walked straight to MoBay Proper for red snapper prepared estovietch—still no idea as to how to define this method—with fried bammy and plantains. The meal was divine, certainly our best dinner in Jamaica! And even though we were full, we hit up the Candy Shack on our walk home for ice cream cones. There is no such vacation without ice cream in my view!

I’ll likely sneak in one more meal (and walk!) before departing, but all in all, this vacation has been capped. With that, my eighth country has been explored.

Jamaica: Happy Valentines Day

On Day 8 we said goodbye to Treasure Beach and headed Northwest to Montego Bay. Thankfully, we had one last breakfast and morning—my favorite time of day—at Lyric. We sipped coffee, worked crossword puzzles, and did a little reading. Around 11:00 am, our driver picked us up for the journey. A short two and a half hours later we were in Montego Bay, where things operate much differently than the little beach oasis we’d previously been visiting.

After dropping our belongings, we headed out for lunch at The Pork Pit. We were disappointed to see much of what surrounds us caters to tourists looking for the comforts of home. We struggled to find Jamaican cuisine of any kind along Gloucester Street, the Hip Strip. The jerk we settled for was a much longer walk than we’d had anticipated. From lunch we headed into the Downtown, unknowingly picking up two tour guides along the way. These two navigated us Uptown, Downtown, and safely back to the Hip Strip, where we’re staying. Though these two were out to make a pretty penny navigating foreigners through their hometown, they were extremely kind, knowledgeable and helpful. They taught us history at Sam Sharpe Square; guided us through St. James Parish Church, a historic site (built in 1775) and active church (built in 1775); and showed us around the food market in Uptown. Upon paying out, Boyfriend and I walked back the length of the Hip Strip to Dead End Beach for sunset. As it turns out, Dead End Beach overlooks the ocean on one side and Sangster International Airport on the other. The sun set to the drumming of airplane engines, for a unique twist.

ackee

By the time we sat down for sunset, sipping coconut water, I was overstimulated. The streets of Uptown and Downtown were packed with people, likely because it was Saturday. We showered—Boyfriend’s first of the week!—and hit the sack.

Our accommodations are so different here. The ocean is not in our forefront. In fact, the beach, if existing in Montego Bay at all, seemed to be chewed up by the resorts. Though the Hip Strip runs along the coast, the water splashes right up against retaining walls; sand is nonexistent. The mosquito net covering our bed is no longer and privacy is a concept of the past. Our room is equipped with a TV and air conditioning. There are large resorts mixed with 394 small shops, all selling the same goods, littering the Hip Strip, and while we’re not in a resort, one could get by without leaving the economically friendly Toby’s “Resort” during a stay. There is a restaurant serving all three meals, two bars, and two pools. And intermittent WiFi when dining at the restaurant. The place will more than do for the two nights where here, but I’m oh so thankful to have seen a different side of Jamaica.