22 Days in Cambodia

Though the Vietnamese island of Phu Quoc was blissful and serene, after three days and nights we began to itch for a new adventure. Little did we know how soon our itch would be scratched. Antsy, but not quite ready to leave the beach lifestyle behind, we elected to make our way to the Cambodian coast, which would involve a relatively new land border crossing just outside the Vietnamese town of Ha Tien. Being a new crossing, rumors abounded about the availability of visas, the corrupt nature of the officials, and the best method for transport. The internet and fellow travelers have been wonderful resources for us, but with experience we have come to learn that things are rarely as easy (or horrible) as the internet or people will lead you to believe. Sometimes you just have to go and figure it out for yourself. That was our move in this instance.

We set out from our guesthouse on Phu Quoc for the ferry landing, where we met a friendly Kiwi couple (Tony and Mikaela) and an Aussie (Alex) who were heading the same way. Traveling in a group of like-minded souls is always a treat, especially when a lot of unknowns abound on the sea and road ahead. We boarded the hydrofoil shown above for a quick and painless 1.5 hour journey to the Vietnamese mainland at Ha Tien. That's when things started to get interesting. There was no room at the dock for our ferry, so we had to climb through another boat to get to the dock and then walk an actual plank to get on solid ground. The problem was that on the other end was a feeding frenzy of taxi touts so thick that Lauren, first in line, didn't even have enough room to get off the plank. The cacophony of voices was deafening and it took a lot of yelling by Lauren, the boat captain, and me to clear the way. Once we set foot on the ground we were swarmed again, but we pushed our way clear and finally got a second of peace so we could collect our thoughts and formulate a plan. Alex was with us and Tony and Mikaela were being mobbed by a second group, so they worked out their own way.

In the end, Lauren, the master bargainer, sealed a deal that entailed us paying less than $10 each to make the approximately 7okm journey from the dock at Ha Tien, across the border, and then to the Cambodian town of Kampot. The catch was that the only form of transport was on the back of a small motorscooter. Fortunately, they had helmets for us, so we donned our brainlids, stuffed our bags between the driver and the handlebars, and hopped on the back. It was quite an experience, to say the least. The drivers were more Lauren's size than mine, so the mere shift of my weight would make the moto wobble slightly. I'm sure the guy who got Lauren as a passenger was much more pleased than my driver. The drive to the border was about 7km, then we went through the usual tedium of having our passports and visas inspected on the Vietnamese side. Next was a short walk through No Man's Land to Cambodian territory, where the operation was a little on the shady side. We were charged $25 each for our visa, even though we knew it only cost $20, but since we had to get across, we had no room to argue. Then the "health inspector" tried to solicit a bribe, assuming that we didn't have the requisite paperwork, but thanks to Jessie at Peachtree Travel Clinic, our vaccination information and stamps were all in order and we refused to pay him. The police tried to get us to use their taxi driver, at an inflated price of course, but we had our trusty moto drivers, so we got our visas, got them stamped, and set off down the road.

Neither words nor pictures can describe the sheer exhilaration and beauty of the first 50 minutes of our moto drive through the bucolic Cambodian countryside. The road was all dirt and potholes, but these were navigated skillfully by our drivers. With smiles on our faces and the wind in our hair, we took in the passing villages, rice paddies, and livestock. We also had the good fortune to be on the road as the sun was setting. It only got a little hairy once we reached paved roads and the speed increased markedly. Still, it was the type of activity that you would pay good money for in its own right, but it was just a necessary way to get from point A to point B.

Lauren on the back of a moto, speeding through southeastern Cambodia. Note her backpack in front of the driver and the Buff she is wearing to shield herself from the dust.
Self-portrait, precariously taken from the back of the moto. I tried my best to snap pictures while holding on for dear life to the bike. One hand had to be on the bike at all times, lest an errant pothole or bump send me flying.

We made it to Kampot just as the sun had set and secured one of the last rooms in town, sharing it with Alex. We were starving, but first we needed some Cambodian money. We went to the ATM and were astonished to be given American dollars. As it turns out, the Cambodian riel is so unstable that the dollar is the de facto currency of Cambodia. One only gets riel as small change. Very bizzare. Anyway, we found a nice little spot for dinner, which we washed down with several Angkor beers, a Cambodian brand. We were beat and a little sore from the day's ride, so we called it an early night.

Alex caught a very early bus to Phnom Penh the next morning, while we had a relaxed breakfast and then split a taxi with Tony and Mikaela, destination Sihanoukville. They were a super cool couple, so the 1.5 hour ride passed in no time. We had not booked any accommodations, so we did a lot of walking around in the hot sun with our packs on looking for just the right place. Tony and Mikaela elected to search for a spot on another beach, but we eventually got a room at the Serenity Guesthouse, ideally located right on Serendipity Beach, which was a small offshoot of the main Occheutal Beach.

The view of Occheutal Beach from our balcony.

We had A LOT of fun in Sihanoukville. I suppose it's hard not to when there is a beautiful beach, gorgeous weather, cool people, and lively nightlife. On one of our first days in Sihanoukville, we met a couple of Californian guys, Ellery and Elan, and Elan's cousin Tammy, who is South African. We did a lot of hanging out, drinking, and sitting on the beach, constantly kept entertained by the witty banter. We also caught a screening of "Slumdog Millionaire" at the local theater, which was an amazing movie and a reminder of both the good and bad of our visit in India.

Lauren dancing by herself early in the night at Utopia, a Sihanoukville institution.
Ellery (middle), Elan (right), and I at the bar at Utopia.

Ellery, Elan, and Tammy moved on with their travels after a few days, but with a lot of time to spare and a perfect location, we were in no hurry. We had wonderful dinners at the restaurants located right on the beach and ended up meeting another American, Megan, during one such dinner. We did not tire of our daily routine of sleeping until 10, catching breakfast and coffee at the delectable Sea View Villas restaurant, lounging and swimming all day, napping, showering, having fresh seafood for dinner, and then partying at night. Megan fit right in with that schedule and it was cool to have another American to hang out with, especially a skier from Park City, Utah.

Our daytime perch on Occheutal Beach.
While I was getting a massage on the beach (one hour for $3!), Lauren decided to explore her artsy side and snapped this amazing photograph when she got up from her chair.
Megan and I at yet another delicious dinner.

We probably could have stayed in Sihanoukville indefinitely. However, our visa was limited to 30 days and there was still a lot of Cambodia to explore. Thus, after eight nights in Sihanoukville, we boarded a bus bound for Phnom Penh. Phnom Penh is the capitol of Cambodia and, contrary to reports that we had heard on the road, a very pretty city. The same couldn't necessarily be said for the neighborhood in which we stayed, but for $5/night for a room, the backpacker ghetto by the lakeside worked for us. We ended up staying in Phnom Penh for four nights, mixing in some sightseeing and internet time with important business at the Lao Embassy, where we obtained our visa for Laos with a minimum of hassle. To be accurate, it was a small amount of hassle in the relative world of bureaucracy, so it was still a headache, but we are so used to the visa runaround that it just seemed normal to us.

Lauren in a tuk-tuk on the streets of Phnom Penh. We have never witnessed so much blatant flouting of traffic rules as we did in Phnom Penh, where driving on the wrong side of the road and running red lights is normal practice.
The Cambodians don't celebrate Chinese New Year, but we're always open to any excuse to have a good time. Here we are in front of the Royal Palace as the sun set on Chinese New Year.

Not everything in Cambodia is rosy, however. The legacy of the brutal genocide of the ultra-Maoist Khmer Rouge regime still lingers over the country like an epically stale fart. Our first exposure to this sad reality was in Sihanoukville, where landmine victims, devoid of some or all limbs, ply the beaches, seeking handouts simply to survive. Intrigued but revolted by this horrid history, we visited Tuol Sleng, also known as S-21, a school-turned-prison in Phnom Penh. This was one of the main places where opponents of the Khmer Rouge were brought to be tortured and slaughtered. It was a haunting establishment, with the cells kept in much the same condition as when S-21 was liberated. The terror of that time was palpable as we walked the grounds, seeing the blood stains and the twisted torture devices employed by the Khmer Rouge. It was so moving that we couldn't bring ourselves to visit the Killing Fields. S-21 was enough to spin our upbeat world on its axis.

Lauren in one of the blocks of cells at Tuol Sleng prison.
We felt shell-shocked enough after visiting S-21 to want to drink this entire truck full of beer (we didn't).

Phnom Penh was a warm host, both temperament and temperature wise, but the national treasure of Cambodia beckoned: the magnificent Temples at Angkor. Contrary to popular belief, there is more to Angkor than simply Angkor Wat. Indeed, the temple complex just kilometers outside of the town of Siem Reap is comprised of many spectacular temples, mostly constructed during the 12th and 13th centuries and built in homage of both Buddhist and Hindu gods. Frankly, I couldn't tell you the full historical or religious significance of these temples, but I can tell you that even in their semi-ruined state, they are places of transcendent beauty. Siem Reap, by virtue of its proximity to Angkor, is a bustling tourist town. Every menu that we saw boasted a litany of Western food along with Khmer dishes and there were far too many people sporting fanny packs. However, the legions of landmine victims that walk/crawl the streets are a constant reminder that Cambodia has a somewhat unique legacy to overcome and they snap you quickly out of your Western-centric view.

On recommendation from Megan, we secured lodging at the Siem Reap Hostel, which turned out to be a great place. Even though we were booked in a dorm, during the six nights we stayed, we only shared the room on two occasions. The included breakfast was simple, but delicious, and the rooms were well-appointed, with our first hot shower (as opposed to freezing cold) in weeks. As a married couple, it's sort of odd to sleep in bunk beds in dorms, but it is a good way to save coin sometimes. After a long day of exploring the temples, it was nice to be able to come back to a comfortable place that even boasted a pool, a real rarity for a hostel.

On our second day in town, we breakfasted and then declined the hostel's offer to provide us with a tuk-tuk driver for the temples. We knew that we could get a better deal on our own, which turned out to be the right decision. After a brief bout of negotiating, we settled on a fair price and boarded a tuk-tuk for the short drive to the Angkor complex.

Our first stop was the world-renowned Angkor Wat. In truth, this was probably our least favorite temple, so we were glad in retrospect to have seen it first. It sounds insane to say that Angkor Wat is just mediocre, but in comparison to some of the other temples, it falls a little short. That's not to say that it's not beautiful, just slightly less so.
Lauren next to a Buddha shrine within Angkor Wat.
Lauren looking glamorously windblown at the base of one of the staircases in Angkor Wat.
Our consensus favorite temple was Bayon, located within the larger Angkor Thom complex. Though now somewhat dilapidated, at its peak it boasted 216 different faces, of whom historians are not certain, though popular theory purports that it is the face of the king who ordered Bayon's construction. In a decidedly non-historic outlook, we just thought that the general aura of the place was cool and we liked all of the face carvings.
Lauren with one of the Bayon faces in the background.
Lauren in front of Chau Say Thevoda, one of the smaller, but no less interesting, temples in the Angkor Archaeological Complex.
Though it may be hard to tell from this picture, the stairs to the top of Ta Keo are really steep. We are constantly amazed at how most of the countries that we have visited let you ramble around on things that are patently dangerous. In the States, there would probably need to be an elevator to the top or something. Stupid lawyers.
A close second to Bayon in our temple enjoyment hierarchy was the temple of Ta Prohm, which is in the midst of being consumed by the surrounding vegetation. Movie and/or Angelina Jolie buffs will note that this temple appeared in Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, which was only mentioned to us somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000 times.
Lauren clambering in one of the alcoves at Ta Prohm.
The grandeur and size of the various Angkor temples are what hit you first, but it is the subtle intricacies and carvings that stop you in your tracks in wonder. You may notice the wet spots on my shirt: it was hot and humid out there and they hadn't invented aircon in the 13th century.
[Rodney Dangerfield voice] Jeez, Mother Nature's got no respect for man's creations! No respect, I tell ya! [end Rodney Dangerfield voice].
A warm embrace below one of the towers of Banteay Kdei.
Inside one of the towers of the small temple of Prasat Kravan were some incredibly detailed and well-preserved reliefs. It's just a coincidence that this picture included a well-proportioned woman, I swear.

-----break from temple pictures---

Although you wouldn't know it from the number of temple pictures thus far (don't worry, there are more to come), we only spent about four hours the first day exploring the temples. When we told this to certain people, they would scoff and look at us like we kicked their dog in the teeth. Many people would wake at dawn and spend close to 12 hours per day at the temples. You could pick these people out from a crowd by the way they walked around like zombies, indiscriminately took pictures, and yelled at each other and other people. These were not people with whom you would want to have a cocktail.

Among its many amenities, Siem Reap Hostel boasted an almost Lauren-sized version of the game Jenga. Above, Lauren is shown in the midst of defeat.
In a somewhat miraculous turn of events, Siem Reap Hostel had a TV that showed the Super Bowl. Here I am at 6:30am Super Bowl Monday Morning, taking in the game all by my lonesome (Lauren values sleep over football and there were no other Americans in residence).

-----resume temple pictures-----

On Super Bowl Monday, we ventured a little further out from the main Angkor complex, taking a tuk-tuk about 35km to the small but intricate Banteay Srei temple. It was worth the trip to see this temple devoted to women, plus we got to see some of the other temples we missed on our first visit to the main Angkor complex.
Here I am with the monkey men of Banteay Srei in the background.
A headscarved Lauren in the entranceway of Banteay Samre.
In the surprisingly empty and therefore peaceful temple of Banteay Samre.
The face motif of Bayon was evident elsewhere, including here at Ta Som.
Lauren doing a foot size comparison to one of the protective figures outside of Preah Khan, the final Angkor temple that we visited.

Tuckered out from an early Super Bowl Monday and a long (for us) day of temple-gazing, we extended our stay in Siem Reap by another day and used the extra day to sleep late and arrange our next move. Our remaining time in Cambodia was dwindling and we had to start making our way east and north to Laos. We decided to take a bus as far as Kratie and assess our options from there. Kratie was merely supposed to be an overnight travel stop, but after we realized that it had more to offer than transport, we decided to stay for a full day and leave the following day.

Kratie is located on the banks of the Mekong River, the lifeblood of Southeast Asia. It also happens to be close to the village of Kampi, which is famous for being one of the best viewing spots of the incredibly endangered Irrawaddy dolphin. Reports vary, but it is estimated that there are only 80-100 Irrawaddy dolphins remaining on Earth. The Irrawaddy dolphins are different from the typical Flipper-style bottlenose dolphin in that they have a blunt nose and very small dorsal fin. They are also supposed to be quite elusive and, when they breach the surface, it is only for a fleeting moment.

With a very international crew comprised of us, a Swede, two Swiss, a Belgian, a Finn, and a Chinese girl, we hopped on the back of motorbikes at our hostel and rode the 15km to Kampi. At the beginning of the trip, we swore we would never ride on the back of a motorbike at all. That changed to never riding on the back of a motorbike unless we were wearing helmets and shoes. But, sometimes you have to just go with it, and we rode sans helmets (only the drivers got them) and wearing flip-flops.

Lauren with her moto driver in Kampi.

We arrived in Kampi and bought a ticket which entitled us to an hour out on a boat on the Mekong. As everyone in our group had heard/read the same thing about the Irrawaddy dolphin's rarity and elusiveness, nobody expected much and we were just happy to be out on the Mekong. Imagine our surprise when a minute off the dock, we saw three Irrawaddys breach at the same time. For the next hour, we were surrounded by probably 10 of the 100 remaining Irrawaddys. True to popular rumor, they did not breach for long, but we definitely saw a lot of dolphins. It was a magical day.

An endangered Irrawaddy dolphin, coming up for air.
Karma was on our side that day, as Irrawaddys were even surfacing very close to the dock in the background.

Although elated at our good fortune with the Irrawaddys, we were all sweating from the sweltering heat. So, we reformed our motorbike caravan and went just up to the road to a group of rapids that were good for swimming.

After studying the Mekong River extensively in college, it was a great moment for me when I finally got to dunk into its vitally important waters. That's me on the far right, bracing myself against the swift current.
Lauren and I on the bank of the Mekong. Yes, I have a full mohawk and a pretty thick beard.
Lauren cruising back to Kratie after a great afternoon in and around Kampi.

In the end, for various reasons, we decided to roll north with our Kratie friends to Laos the day after our dolphin excursion. It was hard to leave Cambodia but I will spoil the surprise and tell you that Laos has been a wonderful place so far. Our 22 days in Cambodia were an amazing mix of beach, city, history, culture, rural environments, and natural wonders. With very limited exception, the Cambodians that we met were friendly, welcoming, and had a great outlook for the future of their country. There is much of which they can be proud and it is our great hope that they continue to overcome the adversity rained upon their country by the maniacal reign of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge.

Vietnam: The Introductory Phase

With India in our proverbial rear-view mirror, our sights were set on Southeast Asia. At the risk of being redundant, we had another exhausting flight schedule. Our flight departed New Delhi at midnight and we arrived at the absolutely massive Bangkok airport at 5:30am not having slept a wink and slightly crabby. We had four hours of chilling until our flight to Saigon, Vietnam (note: I'm pretty sure that the official name of Saigon is Ho Chi Minh City, but I like the name Saigon and it is used interchangeably in our experience, so I'll refer to that beautiful city as either Saigon or HCMC). There wasn't a great place to sleep, plus we were afraid that we would oversleep and miss our flight, so we hit up a restaurant airport with free wireless and ordered bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast. I cannot describe how amazing it was to eat meat again, particularly bacon. Lauren and I are staunch bacontarians, so defined as people who believe that bacon makes every dish better. The bacon eased our moodiness and we plied ourselves with several cups of coffee to keep the eyelids from closing. Finally, we boarded our Thai Airways flight for HCMC. The flight was only an hour long, so we didn't get a chance to sleep, but the flight crew was really friendly, so we had no complaints.

By this point, the rigamarole of arriving in a new country has become second nature to us. Immigration and customs control passed without a hitch and we stepped out of the airport into a swarm of taxi drivers offering us a "good price" for a ride to our guesthouse. Seven and a half months into the trip and I have yet to hear any taxi driver, street vendor, restaurant proprietor, or other shill advertise a "bad price." Actually, that's not true, there was one guy in Egypt who told us we could buy something for double price, but I'm pretty sure that he meant half price. Fortunately, we do a little bit of homework before arriving in a new country or town, so we knew the exchange rate and how much a taxi should cost. It's great armor against less than scrupulous business practices.

Lauren loves to negotiate and bargain, and I'm finding myself developing an affinity for it as well. We've heard it said that the locals expect you to bargain and find it an insult if you don't. I don't know if I would go so far as to describe it in such terms, but bargaining and negotiating is certainly an everyday fact of life for us. Every time you want to go anywhere or buy anything, you have to haggle, otherwise you get ripped off by a factor ranging between 2 and 10. We also do our best to share our accumulated knowledge with fellow travelers, telling them how much things should cost, good places to go, who not to go with, where to/not to eat, etc. There's a fine line between being helpful and pushy or arrogant, but I think we stay on the right side of that line. Of course, we also keep our ears open to the advice of others, which has led us to places we would otherwise not have known about. It's that kind of open, sharing environment that makes the backpacking world so special.

I love the first taxi ride in a new country. While pretty much every day is filled with new things for us, that first glimpse of the new country is always so interesting. It was no different in Saigon. People told us that there are a lot of motorbikes in Vietnam, but you really have to see it to believe it. A hive of motorscooters buzzes on every street.

It's hard to capture the mayhem of the motorscooters in a picture, but this shot of a typical Saigon intersection may give you some idea.

We checked into our lodging, the Luan Vu Guesthouse, and then immediately crashed. We are a couple that cherishes their sleep, so the sleepless night was particularly rough.

Lauren in the alley in which Luan Vu is located.

We woke up in the late afternoon and went for a walk around our neighborhood before heading to dinner. You might have noticed that we talk about food a lot. That's because we love to eat and for that reason, among many others, we loved our first foray to Vietnam. The first dinner did not disappoint: simple but divine noodles, chicken, and spices. We had a couple of Saigon brand beers, then went back to our room, read, and looked forward to exploring HCMC.

Saigon has so many little parks and fresh flowers and was a refreshing change from the urban filth of New Delhi. This was a cool statue in one such park.
Here's Lauren in front of the Reunification Palace, which the North Vietnamese stormed to complete the Fall of Saigon. They have left the Palace in the same state as on that fateful day, complete with replicas of the two North Vietnamese tanks that crashed the front gates.
Our first day's walking tour of Saigon took us to the riverside, where I snapped this picture of Lauren in front of a hungry riverboat on which one can have dinner. The cost for the dinner cruise was prohibitive, but the boat was really cool.

After two days of hanging out in and around Saigon, an incredibly important day popped up on the calendar: Lauren's 27th birthday on January 11. She woke up to a birthday postcard and a promise that several surprises awaited her. First, we had a scrumptious breakfast at Sozo, which is a cafe that is staffed by citizens who are disadvantaged. It is a great operation that teaches useful skills to those who would otherwise be on the street and they serve great coffee and breakfasts to boot: the definition of win-win. I then hailed two cyclos for the journey to the first surprise destination.

Lauren with her groovy cyclo driver on the way to the surprise. Truth be told, I wasn't sure if we were going to make it in time, as I wasn't sure of the actual distance to the surprise, but those cyclo drivers can really move and we made it perfectly on time.

Unfortunately, we neglected to snap any pictures of the first surprise, which was a trip to L'Apothiquaire, a spa set in a French colonial mansion and nestled in a quiet neighborhood of Saigon. There, we had a swim in their pool (a real luxury for us) and then Lauren was whisked away to her pampering. First, she had a steam shower and a sauna. Then, a very capable Vietnamese masseuse gave her an hour and a half hot stone massage, Lauren's first ever. The look on her face as I met her for the finishing cup of green tea evidenced her clear satisfaction and I was happy that I didn't blow her first birthday of our nascent marriage.

The next surprise was a gift, but also a necessity. Lauren's pants have taken a beating on this trip, particularly following the drive-by vomiting in New Delhi, which left her only pair of pants stained with green puke. Unfortunately, due to her dimunitive stature, finding pants that fit her womanly hips and adolescent waist is a challenge. Or rather, was a challenge. Before Saigon, I had never seen so many stores with jeans and pants made for women but in sizes 23-26. It was the perfect opportunity to restock her wardrobe and thus she was able to pick out two pairs of really stylish jeans as her second birthday surprise. She found a green pair adorned with subtle sparkles and a royal blue pair of jeans with a crystal button and crystal rivets. They are so cool and it made me really happy to see her so pleased with them. They don't even have to be hemmed: it's a miracle!!!

After a refreshing birthday nap, it was time for the final surprise. Again I wasn't quite sure of the location, but with the innate sense of direction I fortunately inherited from my father, we made it to dinner on foot exactly on time. We dined at the Temple Club, which was well-appointed and also served one of Lauren's favorite foods: soft-shelled crabs. My meal was really good, but hers was transcendent. I exhaled a final sigh of relief. Although I know Lauren will love me no matter what, I also know that she cherishes her birthdays, so it was important to me to get everything perfect. I can't promise that will happen every year, but this year, I nailed it.

Lauren in the entryway to the Temple Club.

On our final full day in Saigon, we again set out on foot to explore other parts of the city that we had not yet seen. We also had to finalize our tickets for our next stop, but I'll get to that in a moment.

We lit candles for our various family members at the Notre Dame Cathedral.
Lauren with the Opera House in the background.
Taking a seat in front of the well-manicured and colorful promenade that leads to the HCMC City Hall.

Our original intention was to head south to the Mekong delta region, where the mighty river empties into the sea. However, a chance perusal of that ever-helpful world wide interweb led us to a cheap flight to Phu Quoc Island, which is located off the southwestern coast of Vietnam, close to Cambodia. We pondered our options, but the choice was not difficult, as we had heard great things about Phu Quoc and we would be back in southern Vietnam at the end of our Southeast Asia tour, so we will have another chance to visit the delta. Thus, we put together our packs, had a spot of dinner and got to bed early, eager for the next adventure.

The choice to visit Phu Quoc was as correct as it was easy. A short Vietnam Airlines flight later and we touched down on the tiny tarmac of the Phu Quoc airport, buzzing over the fishing fleet as we approached the seaside runway. A friendly taxi driver took us to our accommodations, set back in the pseudo-jungle but just a 250m walk to the beach. The next three days were spent in coastal bliss on the not-too-populated-but-just-populated-enough-to-have-fun-people-around island. Highlights included long walks on the beach (cliche intended), delicious seafood, reading books in comfortable beach chairs, and swimming in the warm waters of the Gulf of Thailand.

It was past noon, so it was totally acceptable to sit in the sun and drink pina coladas.
I'd like to say that I was contemplating the meaning of life at the end of this idyllic dock, but I'm reasonably confident that I was just staring out into the nothingness of the sea.
On our first night on Phu Quoc, we visited a shack-like restaurant located on the beach not 10m from the water. I don't know the name nor do I know if it even has a name, but it served up simple but heavenly fresh seafood. The day's catch was placed in the mini-boat above and you picked your poison: red snapper, huge prawns, tuna, squid, etc. The able cooks seasoned it with the right combination of local spices and then cooked it on the most rudimentary of wood-fired grills. After that first night of gustatory pleasure, we couldn't bring ourselves to try another restaurant, and I think that was the right choice. All three of our dinners were exactly the same: perfect.

On our second day on the island, we decided to go on a boat trip. We are generally wary of these package deals, but it was cheap, and the cruise took us to some other small islands, so we figured it was worth it. In the end, the cruise itself was just okay, but we met some cool Americans on the boat and had a good time hanging out with them, snorkeling, and vegetating on yet another pristine beach.

Lauren's picture of locals out fishing in their homemade vessel gives new meaning to the rhyme "rub a dub dub, three men in a tub."
This is my office.
This picture, along with the rest of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, will be hitting newstands any day now.

Yes, we lead a charmed life, but we cannot reiterate enough that there is not a second of this trip that we take for granted. Already, we can sense the benevolent changes in our outlook, in our confidence, in our married life, in our lives in total. It certainly is an incredible way to spend a honeymoon!!! Another huge thank you to everyone who has helped us along the way.

And, to match the sappy ending to this post, here are two sunset pictures from Phu Quoc for your viewing pleasure. Tune in next time to read about our Cambodian adventures.

India

A very belated, but very happy Happy 2009 to everyone. We have now passed the one-year anniversary of our blog, the ninth month of our marriage, and the seventh month of our global adventure. Needless to say, 2008 was a year to fulfill even our wildest dreams. We are very thankful to have enjoyed such a life-altering time over the past year and are heavily indebted to our friends and especially our families for their support and love in both the most ecstatic of moments and the lowest of times.

The year that began with chest deep powder in Telluride came to a close on warm Anjuna Beach in the south Indian province of Goa. Yes, against the advice of the U.S. State Department and our own trepidations as well as those of others, we left Istanbul and arrived in the mayhem that is New Delhi, India in the early morning of December 18. India is a land of contradictions: beautiful and hideous, educated and ignorant, friendly and conniving. We experienced both sides of this divide during the three weeks we spent in India, which though shorter than our original plan, was enough to get a flavor of the country, if not a full inspection.

The first order of business in New Delhi, after getting our bearings and catching up on some sleep, was obtaining a visa for Vietnam at the Vietnamese Embassy. After a lengthy bout of haggling over an originally absurdly priced taxi to the Embassy, we found the location and went inside. As seems to occur at all of the embassies we visit, we were lacking a couple items that were not listed as required on any Embassy or other website. The following day, we returned to the Embassy with all necessary paperwork and put in our application, leaving our passports, which is always a slightly dicey situation.

With the visa applications sorted, we set out to explore the city over the weekend, and couldn't make any further plans until we knew whether our visas were approved. Our hotel was a hit and miss affair. It was in a quieter, less touristy district of town, which was nice. The staff was attentive, but also annoying in that they constantly tried to rip us off for various reasons. When we woke up the second morning to the sound of hammering and sawing right next to our door, we bolted and got put up by the owner at a nicer spot for the same price as we were originally paying.

We bombed around the city, utilizing the relatively new Delhi Metro and tuk-tuks, which are three-wheeled scooters. We were definitely the only white people that we saw on the Metro, so we, and especially Lauren, were the object of a lot of staring. We strolled around Connaught Place and the Sunday market in the Karol Bagh neighborhood. The air in New Delhi is atrocious. Just from being out in the open, we developed pitch black, gritty boogers. Gross. New Delhi is also incredibly loud. At first we thought we were crazy, as we swore that the car horns had to be louder than in any other place we visited. As it turned out, the Indians modify their horns with high-decibel, ear-splitting versions. The piercing headaches and black snot notwithstanding, we enjoyed taking in the sights and smells of the city.

We did have one incident which sort of defined the disgusting side of India that I referred to earlier. On Christmas Eve, we were walking down the street back to our hotel, just minding our own business. All of a sudden, a car sped past, rolled down its window, and somebody puked out of the window, covering us in upchuck. Seriously, we were victims of a drive-by vomiting. What a country!

On Monday, we returned to the Vietnamese Embassy in the afternoon and were delighted to find out that our three-month, multiple entry visa had been granted. This was good news, as we had wanted to book a train to Udaipur for the following day so that we could spend Christmas in a more subdued environment. Unfortunately, pretty much every single train leaving Delhi in the days preceding Christmas was fully waitlisted, so waitlisted that not even extra payment could have gotten us a seat. That was a bummer, but we had a wonderful Christmas anyway, made even more special by the treat of being able to Skype with our families on Christmas Eve and Day and hear our niece Maggie sing us "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

Wearing my Christmas colors at lunch in the backpacker district of New Delhi, Pahar Ganj.
For Christmas dinner, Mom and Pops Voboril "remotely" treated us to dinner at the very luxurious and delicious Bukhara restaurant. We resolved to stay vegetarian throughout our stay in India, which was a mission accomplished. Although this did not prevent subsequent stomach ailments, it was a challenge for two die-hard carnivores and bacontarians. Fortunately, India is a great place to be vegetarian, with dal and naan and paranthas galore.
Lauren with Indian Santa. This particular Santa wore a lot of make-up and couldn't keep his hands off T.J.'s butt. He was perhaps a little too in the spirit of Christmas.
In the lobby of the Maurya Sheraton, which housed the Bukhara restaurant. It was a chill place to unwind after a huge Christmas dinner.
The Sheraton lobby was exquisitely decorated and well-guarded by a bevy of Indian police. Owing to rising tensions with Pakistan, the whole of India was a bit on edge. It was unnerving to read the daily headlines, which made it appear as if war with Pakistan was imminent. Thankfully, nothing happened and we hope that cooler heads will prevail in the end.

Such is the irony of life that the worst bout of Delhi belly that I could imagine befell Lauren as a direct result of a meal consumed at the most expensive restaurant in the city. In the wee hours of Boxing Day morning, the bathroom became Lauren's semi-permanent abode. At the risk of being too graphic, the volume of vomit and diarrhea that exited Lauren's body over the next three days was horror-movie level frightening. She was in agony and it was painful to watch. Fortunately, our room was comfortable and the television showed a decent amount of Western channels, so we hunkered down to wait out the sickness. In consultation with the neighborhood pharmacist, I put Lauren on a regimen of antibiotics, anti-nausea medicine, and rehydration salts, washed down with the occasional light meal. Slowly but surely, her condition improved, but for the first 36 hours we were terrified, as neither of us had ever seen a sickness of that magnitude. It made her e. Coli in Morocco look like the sniffles. In the end, the saving grace were small servings of vegetable noodles, which apparently had a healing effect and would become a sentimental favorite of Lauren for the duration of our Indian sojourn.

Sadly, Lauren was still not fully recovered by the time our friend Adam Greene arrived to meet us in New Delhi. Adam was my law-school classmate and currently resides in Charlotte, where he fits in hours of work between trips to the golf course. India was the 96th country that Adam has visited: he is a well-seasoned traveler. For Adam's arrival, we switched accomodations to a hotel in the Pahar Ganj district to give him an even more colorful view of the city. With Lauren recuperating in our room, Adam and I set out on a sightseeing tour of the New Delhi.

In front of the Qutub Minar minaret.
Birds and an arch in the Qutub Complex, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Humayun's Tomb, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the resting place of the second emperor of the Mughal empire.
Lahore Gate, the only entrance to the Red Fort, constructed of brilliant red sandstone and the site of a terrorist attack in 2000 that killed three people. Adam and I were definitely on our guard here, especially from the pickpockets, who were allegedly ubiquitous, though we fortunately never saw one in action.

After a long day of sightseeing, we returned back to the hotel to check on Lauren, who was fortunately in a much better way. Still, she wanted to make sure that she was 100%, so after much deliberation and soul-searching, opted out of the next day's journey to Agra, site of the Taj Mahal and other monuments.

Adam and I woke up at 4:45am to catch the early train to Agra. It was supposed to be a two hour trip, but turned into a five hour journey on account of the heavy fog that enmeshed the city and slowed the train to a slow crawl. Upon arrival in Agra, we secured a tour guide and driver for the day. With a few things to see and limited time, it was the way to go.

The first stop of the day was at the Taj Mahal, which we entered from the southern gate pictured above.
The Taj Mahal is a stunning piece of architecture.
Obligatory tourist "I'm holding the Taj Mahal" shot.
Though I missed Lauren terribly and wished she could have seen the Taj Mahal, I still enjoyed visiting such a beautiful place with such a good friend.

In addition to the Taj Mahal, we also visited a couple of other places, including the Agra Fort (which was way sweeter than the Red Fort in New Delhi) and Akbar's Tomb, a picture of which is shown above.

After our tour of the other sites in Agra, we headed to a garden on the other side of the Yamuna River to catch a view of the Taj Mahal from another angle. By this point, the sun was beginning to set, casting a cool light on the white marble.

We had planned to catch the train back to New Delhi at 8:15pm. But, with the delay in arrival in the morning and the onset of evening fog, there was no telling how late our train would be in departing or arriving in New Delhi. As we had a sick Lauren back at the hotel and a morning flight to Goa the next day, we decided not to take any chances. After some extensive negotiating, we secured a taxi to take us back to New Delhi, a distance of just about 200kms, which should have taken two hours, putting us into town at around 8 in the evening. Of course, after falling asleep in the car and waking up two hours later, I found to my dismay that we were not yet half way home. A thick fog kept traffic speeds to a minimum, and with the sorry state of the Indian highway, it was slow going. To make matters worse, Adam's cellphone wasn't getting a signal and we had no other way of getting in touch with Lauren, who we had promised to call. Finally, we got back to the hotel at 11pm, much to the relief of Lauren, who was understandably worried sick about us. However, her condition had markedly improved, which was great timing, as flying with a stomach bug is no fun.

The next morning, we headed to the airport and caught a Spicejet flight down to Goa, which is south of Mumbai on India's southwest coast. Goa was a formed Portuguese colony, which is evidenced by the presence of quite a few Catholic churches and cool architecture. Our hotel was located on Baga Beach, which was about an hour from the airport. On the taxi ride to the hotel, we were happy to see that Goa was a gorgeous place, providing a much-needed respite from the filth of New Delhi and Agra. It also helped that our hotel was a cool little spot, five minutes from the beach and surrounded by lush vegetation.

The first night in Goa, we got some beers and grub on Baga Beach, and took in the sunset before heading to Anjuna Beach to scope out spots for New Year's, which was the next night.
On New Year's Eve day, we hung out at the beach and then took naps to prepare for the long night ahead. We took a cab over to the block of bars on Anjuna Beach and got some dinner and more beers, with Lauren enjoying her plate of vegetable noodles immensely.
As the clock struck midnight, we celebrated with a New Year's kiss, a farewell to a wonderful 2008 and a welcome to new adventures in 2009.
The three of us had a blast on New Year's and enjoyed partying with a very international crowd on Anjuna Beach.
The rest of our days in Goa were very relaxing, with a lot of beach time and some occasional trips to the incongruous Baskin Robbins. The waves were small, but decent for bodysurfing. It was about 90 degrees and sunny every day, but the nights were also pleasant, with a cool breeze keeping the temperature under control. On Adam's second to last night (we stayed six nights, he stayed four), we had a banger of a time, not getting home until about 4 in the morning. I think this last picture was taken sometime around 1am, as we still look pretty put together.

Thrilled with our Goa trip and also happy that nothing came of the many rumors we heard of a terrorist attack around New Year's, we arrived back in New Delhi for two nights to await our flight to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. We had one full day left in the city, which we spent just walking around and taking it all in, on top of stocking up on supplies at the very cheap pharmacies.

A typical street scene in the Pahar Ganj district. Pictures don't really do the crush of people or the cacophony of noises any justice, but this is one of the cleaner streets that we saw in all of New Delhi.
Lauren on the street in Pahar Ganj, with our lodging in the background. The Buff microfiber scarves gifted to us by Lauren's Aunt Kathy and Uncle Joe came in handy in keeping out the polluted air.
Cows are sacred in India, and thus allowed to just wander the streets willy nilly. This particular bovine took a shine to Lauren.

Before we left on this trip, many people asked us what was the one place to which we were most looking forward. Without hesitation, we would reply "India!" It held such a magical place in our minds, for its history, food, and culture, but also because we saw it as a place entirely apart from any other country on Earth. After having visited India, albeit for a relatively short stint, there is no question that it is a place apart. This does not necessarily mean that everything about it is positive or negative. It is in fact a maddening conjunction of the two. The suffocating push of modernity collides with one of the oldest civilizations on Earth and it is clear that, at this juncture, India is still working on reconciling the differences. While India was definitely not our favorite spot on this trip, we are exceedingly glad that we made the tough decision to pay a visit. One thing is for sure, I might miss the scrumptious dal makhani, but I sure don't miss the overpowering stench of urine.