Hello from Singapore! Finally back to the world of speedy internet so I thought I’d post some hotel room videos. You love them, right?

The first video is our hotel in Yangon, Myanmar FKA Rangoon, Burma. I was completely surprised by this room. Not at all what I expected. Especially after spending time in the city which is borderline Third World.

The second video is from our hotel in Bagan, Myanmar. Bagan is amazing! (Many pics to come soon!) It’s on the list to become a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Our hotel room there was more in line of what I was expecting from Burma.

We are currently at the unremarkable Ibis Hotel in Singapore. Not worth a video, but we head to Bali on Wednesday. A warning to your Polar Vortexans: Be prepared to be tortured with sublime views and stories of warm and sunny days!

Last week, we traveled to Yangon, Myanmar. That’s Burma, folks, the former Rangoon. It’s a fascinating city, and a great example of what happens when you don’t clean your room. What do I mean by that?

The British Empire extended here, and in the colonial architecture you can see what a stunning city “Rangoon” once was. Some of these buildings rival the great Victorian and Edwardian buildings of London. Except for one thing – they’re all run down, and many of them are totally derelict. It’s a shame. The mix of the Asian (the stupas, the temples, the food!) and the European (the architecture, the grand boulevards, the cocktails!) must have been striking.

But after years of military rule and neglect, Yangon is a shadow of it’s past glory. The people are perhaps the nicest we’ve met on the trip – everyone smiles and says hello, EVERYONE – but the town could use an enema.

Which leads me to another derelict item which has seen better days. My Adidas.

Like Yangon, my blue suede Adidas Campus sneakers were constructed in Asia to serve a distant European commercial entity. And again like Yangon, my Adidas are falling apart.

They’re the sneakers I wore as I boarded the flight in New York, and they were the first thing to hit Japanese soil when we landed. In their year-and-a-half life, they’ve seen three continents, 15 countries, and New Year’s Eves in Panama City in 2012 and Ho Chi Minh City in 2013. They’ve been to North Korea, and lived to tell the tale.

Their soles have touched liquids unimaginable, and stepped in organic matter I care not to discuss. They have stood sentinel over the world’s worst squatty potties, provided a lift in back-alley bathrooms, and a half-inch barrier between my feet and certain dysentery. I am ever thankful that they have not been under one of those blacklights they use in Lysol commercials.

But Adidas, it’s time for you to go. As a certifiable heel-dragger, I have worn you down. Walking around last week, what I thought was an irritating small pebble in my shoe turned out to be a staple – A STAPLE – that had poked through the thinning sole of the right sneaker. And that was just the right sneaker. The dominant left foot heel is so worn down, there’s a small rock I’ve been carrying around for who-knows-how-long, a stowaway on our Asian voyage.

Photographic evidence indicates the blue suede shoes were purchased in the summer of 2012, as revealed in this Labor Day photo taken in Henry David Thoreau’s cabin at Walden Pond. Little would we know at the time that these sneakers would accompany us on our own search “to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”

Sharp-eyed readers will notice something interesting in that Walden photo: the Brazil t-shirt. One night in Cambodia, while drinking a beer with Mr. Ox, he asked about that very t-shirt which I was wearing. I explained it was a Brazil soccer jersey replica, and he said, unremarkably, “nice shirt.” I looked around, and saw this honest man, who fought the Khmer Rouge, making an honest living trying to support his wife, soon-to-be five kids, and a mother-in-law for dollars a day on a beach in Cambodia. And come to think of it, I never saw him wear a shirt. So I literally gave him the shirt off my back. And the next day when we left Castaways, he was wearing the shirt, and a grin.

So Adidas, we’ve come full circle. You were born in Asia (Indonesia, to be exact), and you’ll stay in Asia, where you’re hopefully making someone as happy as Ox seemed to be wearing that t-shirt. Yes, you’re worn down, you’re dirty, and at times, your smell has rivaled that of a sick farm animal. But for someone on the cleaning staff at our Yangon hotel, who likely makes under $200 a month and wears $1 flip-flops every day, I bet you were a welcome addition.

Adios, Adidas, and good luck. But don’t worry about your replacement. Nothing could be more American than skateboarding, California, and Jeff Spicoli. You’re being replaced by these kick-ass American Vans – made in Thailand.

Hello from Bangkok, y’all!! (FYI, that’s an American term for our global readers…both of you.) It’s our last night here. It’s been not “One Night in Bangkok,” but by dint of nature — foreshadowing! — nearly ten, broken up by a five-day beach trip to the island of Koh Samet. We leave for Myanmar tomorrow, and will have spent about two weeks here.

We arrived in Bangkok on New Year’s Day. I know it sounds a bit strange, but Bangkok for us has been a vacation from our vacation. It’s a cosmopolitan city with all the amenities of home, but here in Asia. After our adventurous loop through Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, it gave us a chance to rest, regroup, and restock supplies; to take care of some housekeeping. The internet works well here, for example. We got our visas for Myanmar. We mailed a box of souvenirs home. And one other thing…

Because of its many canals, Bangkok is called the “Venice of the East.” And guess what?! I got my very own canal! A very small canal…

I got a route canal! In Bangkok!

Let’s recap: when I was about ten years old, I smashed my teeth on the side of a pool. I like to refer to this unique way of losing one’s teeth as “poolside dining.” My four front teeth are all fake. Then, as luck would have it, one of my caps broke off on this trip. Here’s a fun way to lose your dental work should you have the self-loathing desire to hemorrhage money and be inconvenienced:

1. Leave home for a year.
2. Fly to the other side of the planet.
3. Visit a country with questionable health care options (like, you know, China).
4. Go somewhere totally remote (like, you know, the Great Wall of China).
5. Bite into a Snickers bar.

So I got a “provisional crown” in Taipei, and planned on getting a new permanent cap later, in either New Zealand or Australia. But while we were at dinner on New Year’s Day, my tooth felt a little loose – the one with the provisional crown. I didn’t mention it to Amy, because I wasn’t sure what was going on. I only sort-of remember what a loose tooth feels like, because since I was ten, several of my teeth have been bolted to my skull. Plus, we were eating sushi – it’s not like we were eating candy apples and corn on the cob. Then later, back in the hotel room, it was definitely shaky. I finally told Amy. I tested the tooth a little bit… And very easily, this monster came out:

I KNOW, RIGHT?!! GROSS!! The whole damn post came out, cap and all. I freaked out a bit. Here’s a recreation:

NOTE: Based on the last photo alone, I’ve been offered a try-out with the Toronto Maple Leafs.

But a stroke of luck that it happened when, where, and how it did – first, I could slide it back in and have a tooth. It was loose, yes, but usable, and fun freaking people out, like when your great uncle took out his dentures after a few Canadian Clubs at Thanksgiving. Second, there are about a thousand really good dentists in Bangkok – it’s a dental work destination. And lastly – they work fast and cheap.

Here’s how easy it is to get dental work done over here: we got up the next day and walked into a dental office in the mall across the street, recommended by our travel insurance folks.

I waited for five minutes, and then the dentist met with me for a consult. As a walk-in, mind you. I’ve waited longer to use the men’s room at Yankee Stadium. Turns out that that tooth in particular, after the pool accident, was stunted, so the post didn’t have much to hang on to. And after so many years of use, and all the monkeying with it in Taipei, it just gave up. So my best option – for now – was to get a new post (requiring a route canal) and permanent cap, and get dental implants in the future. “So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.”

This was on Thursday the 2nd. The route canal was scheduled for Saturday the 4th. Fittings and temp crown scheduled for Sunday the 5th. I was there for a half-hour and billed $5 for an x-ray. Five bucks. Take that American Healthcare System!

Saturday afternoon Amy and I went back to the mall. Amy was going to buy some things from the supermarket and drugstore. I was going to buy complex dental surgery from a mall dentist is Thailand. It was going to be awesome.

There’s something to be said about Thai dentistry, or at least the practice I went to. They’re both very thorough and very sterile. And some fun new things happened, like this: after I got the local anesthesia, the doctor covered my other teeth and gums with some kind of latex dental dam – kinky! It’s supposed to keep the route canal from getting infected. I was like “The Gimp” in Pulp Fiction.

And this: after all the drilling, they sprayed something like Clorox in my mouth – I guess it was some kind of disinfectant. With that, my mouth kept filling up with saliva, it was like I was getting water-boarded. Then I was taken to get an x-ray. As I sat there with the heavy lead protector on my chest, I drooled about a half-pint of spittle all over the vest. The dental assistants said something to each other in Thai that I can only imagine was something like, “we got ourselves a drooler!”

So I got the route canal, I was fitted for the new crown, and they put in a temporary crown for a week. Funny – they used the Taipei crown as the temporary, and I asked that when it was all over, if they’d please give it back to me. I wanted to keep it for my museum, with my bowling trophy and flip-flops. But they never gave it back. I guess there’s good money to be made on eBay with my old dental work, like selling a lock of Justin Beiber’s hair, or a vial George Clooney’s tears.

We had to wait about a week before the new crown was ready, so we went to the beach in Koh Samet for five days. And when we got back this week, the rest was pretty easy – just a matter of getting the new crown put in. I wish there was something exciting to tell you about that, but if you’ve ever seen a piece of hardware getting mounted to a wall, or a small dental fixture getting mounted to your face, then it’s no big deal. But here’s the final results:

So I’m basically as good as new – until it’s time to get dental implants. And won’t that be great, when I go around telling everyone I got implants: “Hey, I got implants! Want to see them?! They cost me a few thousand dollars, but don’t they look- HEY, NO TOUCHING!!”

Anyhoo…tomorrow we’re off to Myanmar, and who knows what the internet will be like there. But I tell you this: when we climb Mt. Kyaiktiyo to see the Golden Rock and Buddhist temple, I will not be biting into a Snickers bar at the summit. Or possibly ever again.

Perhaps you’ve heard the news. They’re rioting in Bangkok. They’ve taken to the streets, shut down traffic and closed most schools and businesses. And sadly, a few people have been killed. This is all happening, as I write, within blocks of our hotel room (except for the killing part). We thought people would want to know how we were doing, and if everything is okay. Well…

PROTEST SELFIE!!

Okay, let’s be fair – this is a serious situation. Tens of thousands of people have taken to the streets to protest what they consider a corrupt, illegitimate government. They’ve decided to “shut down” Bangkok for several days to send a message. For more on the story, check this out:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-25708092

But on street level (isolated gunplay aside – yes, not to make light of that) it’s really not that bad. It’s been like a big party around here today. I ask you: is this the face of violence?

In the USA, she’d be one of those “Red Hat” ladies, or the person who sells cork-topped bottles of sand art at the flea market.

Last night, Amy and I went to a rooftop restaurant for a few drinks. It was quiet, but on one corner a block from our hotel, you could see people gathering. You can maybe see that street very lit up in the photo below, in the foreground, crossed by the elevated metro line:

After a few drinks, we decided to get something to eat. On street level, everything was closed. The streets were basically empty, except for protesters settling in for the night.

Most stores had their gates down. We were forced to eat dinner at…The Hard Rock Café. Chicken Fingers, Nachos, Macaroni and Cheese, and a Filipino cover band. In this way alone, we were victims of the protest. The shutdown worked – on my alimentary canal.

This morning we woke to the sounds of constant cheering and whistling. As we did some housekeeping – emails, travel bookings – things got louder, and then impassioned speeches started to echo over loudspeakers. Here’s the view from our hotel window:

Eventually, it was lunchtime. We had to get something to eat, somewhere. So we braved the protesting crowds and did like all good Americans do – we went to the mall for some tacos.

The mall is right across the street from our hotel, and to get there, we had to cross a major thoroughfare filled with protesters. Of course we were nervous about what things would be like. I mean, people had been killed, what should we expect? Here’s what we discovered:

OCCUPY STARBUCKS! First of all, a great majority of these protesters are middle-aged folks and older. They’re dressed up like it’s a parade, or the Republican National Convention. And many of them were in the mall having a nice lunch.

Outside, people were wandering around in groups, blowing whistles. Several hundred sat on the steps of the mall. OCCUPY SEPHORA!

People are selling t-shirts everywhere, and Thai flags, hats, armbands. Here’s some of the better ones we’ve seen…

So of course, I had to get one. Got mine for 100 baht, a little over three bucks. Translations are welcome; hopefully there’s no course language. Sorry if there is, Grandma. But I can’t read it either.

Amy and I walked up to a more crowded area, at an intersection a few blocks the other way from our hotel. It was jam packed with about five to ten thousand protesters. TV crews were there, and a big stage – this seemed to be a main gathering area.

One woman had just finished speaking, and music was now playing. People were singing and clapping along, and handing out free water to combat the heat. Especially to fair-skinned folks like us. It was crowded, yes, but all very peaceful. Let me tell you something – I’ve seen more crowd violence at a Grateful Dead concert after the beer ran out.

Example: Here’s some very bored EMS folks. Note the one guy playing with the blood pressure thingy…

And all the people smiling and posing for photos. You’d think it was summer vacation at Mount Rushmore. A lot of Facebook profile shots in the making…

But I will tell you this – these folks know how to protest. They’re all out there – every age group, every walk of life. They shut down their capital city, and they’ve made a statement in one single day that’s being heard around the world. And they’re stopping for sushi along the way. It makes the “Occupy Wall Street” movement look like the pep rally at Ridgemont High.

So…don’t worry everyone – we’re okay. What violence there has been has occured in isolated areas away from our hotel. Tourists are being treated nicely. And Amy’s at the pool as I write, likely sipping on some coconut-infused lime martini. We’re fine, Mom.

About a month ago or so we asked if any of you had any questions for a Q&A. Several of you responded right away with a number of insightful questions. In the spirit of holiday procrastination and broken resolutions, it took us forever to respond. But finally! You asked. We answered. If you’re up for it, we’ll do another Q&A session in 3 months (with answers in four months or so).

1. Do you miss home cooked meals?

John: Yes, and no. You get a hankering for certain things like a steak or a hamburger every once in a while. And pizza looks good at times, particularly when you’ve had a rice dish every day for a month. But home cooked meals vs. eating out, not a problem. Before we left, we ate out a lot (just something that happens in New York), so that’s not a big issue for us. Though sometimes you do just want to pop something in a microwave (or order in) and watch TV, but that might be a different question.

Amy: Yes. I also miss baking. And cereal with cold milk. And a peanut butter sandwich on soft white bread. And weak, home-brewed coffee. (The coffee in Asia has generally been instant or way too strong.) But we really did eat out the majority of the time in NYC, so it’s not a huge deal for us.

2. No food illnesses at all?

John: (knock wood) Luckily no, not yet, but see the post “Flirting with Disaster.” https://werefinemom.com/2013/12/21/flirting-with-disaster/

3. Share the most tense moment with each other (of course travel related i.e. the missing phone? The tooth? What had you two on the edge this far?)


John: The iPhone moment was pretty bad. Amy was calm, but I was freaking out. That was a bad evening. We also had some taxi issues one afternoon in Beijing that got both of us pretty heated. We got taken for a ride, and it kept getting worse – finding a reputable taxi, language issues, haggling… We had a rough afternoon trying to navigate that. The tooth wasn’t so bad, just something to be dealt with. Other than that, we’ve actually been okay. Amy was quite nervous about the overnight train, but despite the accommodation, the people we were with made it fun.

Amy: We were in Beijing and took a rickshaw from Tiananmen Square to this big souvenir market. When we were crossing a five-way intersection/traffic circle/melee, I really did think we were going to get squashed. I kept saying, “Hail Mary, full of grace” about 30 times until we made it through the intersection.

4. What has surprised you the most so far about your journey? This can be an experience, a location, a revelation about yourselves, etc.


John: We were surprised by Cambodia, both really loved it, but went into it thinking it was going to be a mess. Nothing really new about ourselves, though I’ve been feeling very fortunate and perhaps slightly more spiritual as a result. But the greatest surprise is just how nice people are everywhere we go. We meet nice folks every day – people take a genuine interest in our story. Not everyone is as fortunate to travel; some people we meet have never left their countries and are very curious about our lives. We get to be ambassadors on a daily basis; it’s great to be able meet people and share stories.

5. Do you miss home yet?

Amy: Sometimes. I miss our family. I miss our friends. But I know you’re all going to visit us along the way, right?

John: I definitely did during Christmas, and like Amy said, miss family and friends at times. But technology helps. I also sometimes feel like I’m missing out on events or big shows or whatever happening back home. But I’ll take the trade-off…

6. Has it been weird being on the road over the holidays?

Amy: Weird but fun. John was a little more homesick over the holidays than I was (see above), but it was definitely one to remember.

7. Is time flying or moving slowly?

Amy: I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like it’s moving at normal speed but then we’re like, “Remember when we were in China?” It was only 2 months ago but it feels like forever ago!

John: It depends on the day or location. Some places we’ve felt like we’ve kind of seen what we needed to and were killing time. Other places we felt like we missed out. Some days are fast and some days are slow. But it does feel like we’ve been gone a while – though we only left Japan a little over two months ago.

8. Going forward any plans to split up for a few days?

Amy: No. We had lunch separately one day in Hanoi and that was weird. I get my alone time at the hair salon once a month.

John: Not yet. We’ve kept the option there, but neither of us has wanted to take it up. We’re still having fun together.

9. Does a short trip back home soon to recharge make sense or sound completely ridiculous?

Amy: It doesn’t sound ridiculous but it does sound expensive. Seeing friends/family is definitely a recharge but we’ve been doing that along the way. Saw our friends from 10th Street in Seoul and that was so great. And we just stayed with my cousin in Ho Chi Minh City. It was awesome to just hang out with her and her family (and their dog!).

John: It doesn’t sound ridiculous, but it’s not happening. We find time to recharge on the road – Hong Kong and Bangkok were great for that because they’re basically like Asian versions of New York – something familiar. And the beaches help us get some R&R.

10. Any thought to stay in one place for extended time and work or volunteer?

Amy: Not on this trip. We are considering joining the Peace Corps at some time down the road though…

11. Are you using your high end grooming products or are these becoming less necessary on the road?

Amy: I am officially out of all of my Bumble & Bumble hair products and have been getting along OK. (Though the stylist in Hanoi told me 3 times how dry my hair was!) Believe it or not, there have been Kiehl’s stores in a lot of places so I still have all of my magical face potions. For now…

John: Grooming products??

12. Have you purchased any shoes?

Amy: Ha! Yes! But don’t judge… When we arrived in Southeast Asia, our first stop was Missy & Geoff’s place in HCMC (aforementioned cousins). We stayed there for a couple days before heading out for a month to travel around the region. We left our big packs at their house and consolidated what we needed for the month into one, smaller bag. We only packed warm weather clothes. We didn’t know (or research) how cold it would be in northern Laos and northern Vietnam. It was COLD! The only shoes I brought were sandals and sneakers. So when we went to the Metropole for Christmas Eve dinner in Hanoi, I didn’t have appropriate warm-weather dress clothes. I had a sleeveless dress with me that I thought, if paired with my black sweater and tights, I wouldn’t look like a schlub. So we went to the mall in Hanoi and bought a pair of black tights and a pair of black flats. The flats were $13 USD. And I think they’re pretty cute!

John: I’m getting rid of my Adidas in a few weeks and moving on to my back-up Vans. And my Sanuk beach shoes are on their last legs. Both will be left for someone in Southeast Asia. I’m reducing and recycling.

13. Have you had to pee terribly on any of the 5 hour plus bus rides?

Amy: No. They have all had bathrooms except for one and I didn’t drink a lot of water before that ride. (But remind me to tell you about this one time on a boat in the Panama Canal…)

John: Yes! But we had a bathroom, so no problem.

14. How about TV shows? Is John getting enough soccer?

Amy: I do miss American TV. And Eagles football. It was killing me how great a season they were having and I basically missed it. It’s all over now though. And I woke up at 8am to watch that dang Wild Card game.

John: I’m actually surprised that I’m not missing any certain shows, just certain games or event programming. I normally watch Letterman regularly, but haven’t really missed it – though I did watch his Xmas show with Darlene Love online. And I’m watching every United match I can that’s on at a reasonable hour – not after 2am.

15. What are your New Year’s resolutions and do they include brushing your teeth at an appropriate early morning hour each day?

Amy: Don’t judge about the tooth brushing! It’s a pain to use bottled water to brush your teeth. And that bathroom at Castaways wasn’t the most appealing to hang out in…you saw it! But to answer your question, one of my resolutions is to eat better. I have barely been eating any fruits or veggies. (I blame Dr. Mandel; he told us to be wary of things we couldn’t peel.) And both of us want to try to squeeze in some exercise every now and then.

16. What is the grossest thing you have seen, eaten, et cetera? Most delicious? Favorite new cocktail?

Amy:
Grossest seen: Countless bathrooms. I will spare you the details. And pigs’ heads at markets. They’re basically like a pig mask but real. See: “Silence of the Lambs”
Grossest eaten: Snail? Blood cake? Frog?
Most delicious: Fried chicken in Taipei. Banh mi in Hoi An
Cocktail: All the new beers. Beer Lao Dark was my fave.

John:
Grossest seen: The pig heads are gross – nothing like seeing a big bucket of hairy pig heads covered in blood, except maybe the occasional bloody goat head, which has been stripped of it’s hide and looks like it’s smiling at you. And some disgusting feet on people. You get used to a lot of stuff fast, though.
Grossest eaten: The 1000 year old egg was probably the grossest. Sea snail, raw conch and abalone, and chicken cartilage were terribly chewy and tough to swallow. Cod sperm sounds gross, but I didn’t know for sure what it was when I ate it – not at all revolting. Tree ants, congealed blood cake, and “Bird’s Nest and White Fungus” drink were all surprisingly not bad at all! And I truly enjoyed the “Takotamago,” a quail egg stuffed in a grilled octopus head.
Most Delicious: I’ve had some fantastic noodles in Southeast Asia. And a few Banh Mi sandwiches in Vietnam – I ordered a second at one place.
Cocktail: I’ve had a few good bourbon drinks, and Amy was right, the Beer Lao Dark is the best beer of the trip so far.

17. What has been the longest stretch of travel thus far? What is the longest coming up?

Amy: If this question is about actual travel time, our longest was either the flight from JFK to Narita/Tokyo (14 hours, I think) or on the overnight train from Hanoi to Da Nang (17.5 hours). I can’t answer for certain because we were in business class from JFK to NRT and I was hopped up on white wine and ambien. And the overnight train…well…I’ve tried to block that out.

John: Other than the flight over, we had a three-hour flight from Beijing to Taipei – flights have been relatively short on the trip itself – but that was the longest distance, I think. The train ride in Vietnam was long in time, but only about 400 miles or so – shouldn’t be 18 hours. We had some 7 hour bus rides in Cambodia. Our next big leg will be flying from Bali to New Zealand. Could be 14 hours with the layovers.

18. Do you have to constantly change currencies? Who has had the prettiest money?

Amy: Yes. We usually hit the ATM when we get off the plane to get the currency for the new country. And when we have money left at the end of a visit, we change money at the airport before the flight. Hong Kong has some pretty awesome bills. They’re the equivalent of $1 dollar, I think.

John: Laos has some good looking money, too, if I recall, when the bills are fresh and not filthy – the 500 kip I particularly liked – which is worth about six cents US. And the Japanese Yen is a classy looking currency. Just a side note: The Taiwan $500 bill has a picture of their victorious Little League championship team on it.

19. Where will you be on NYE?

Amy: We were in Ho Chi Minh City. We did an evening food tour on the back of Vespa Scooters. It was hilarious. We got home to my cousin’s around 10:30pm, watched the end of “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” with her kids, then we went across the street to the neighbors’ to set a doll on fire. Some kind of Ecuadorian tradition. It was great!

20. What item are you soooo glad you brought from home because you have not seen it anywhere abroad?

Amy: I am really happy I brought my Clarisonic, but I have seen it somewhere (Tokyo? Hong Kong?). Sometimes you feel just dirty after a flight (or an overnight train ride!). And since washing your face with Purel or Clorox wipes is probably bad for the skin, the Clarisonic is the next best thing! (Ladies: If you don’t have one, buy one. Amazing.)

John: You can pretty much buy anything over here that you can buy at home, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Or a knock-off version. Except for really big Ziploc bags, which Amy wants desperately.

21. Where on your itinerary can you not wait to arrive?

Amy: I am really looking forward to Bali. And I’m also really looking forward to New Zealand because we’re going to see our good friends from NYC. (Shout out, Ardens!)

John: New Zealand with the Ardens will be great, plus I’m looking forward to India, and driving the Great Ocean Road in Australia. Otherwise I’m content with being patient and following our plan – excited about going everywhere.

22. Amy, are you sad that you have not been home to PA since Brittingham’s reopened and has multiple outdoor decks and swanky new interior? Was thinking of you when checked it out last week.

Amy: Yes! We’ll meet you there for drinks next December!

John: This sounds like a loaded question.

23. Can you see American football over there (wherever you are now) since there is big Eagles/ Cowboys game on Sunday night!?

Amy: Sometimes they show a replay the next day and sometimes, if you stay up late enough/wake up early enough, you can catch the game live. Of course, many of you know I am not a late-nighter. And the days the Eagles have had the Sunday night game, we’ve had to travel the next morning. But sometimes, the Birds make international news! And then they lose to the Aints. But we’ll always have this…

24. Have you had to sit next to any live animals on your bus rides (not including a cat or dog)? Birds in or out of cages count.

Amy: Not yet. But we have seen tons of animals. Cats and dogs, of course. Cows, water buffaloes. Monkeys, pigs, crazy birds. Fish and frogs. And we did see 8 piglets in a cage strapped to the back of a scooter. Nuts.

25. What is the one thing you wish you brought that you didn’t?

Amy: More giant Ziploc bags. I use them as “drawers” in my suitcase. One for shirts, one for pants, one for dresses, etc. And I wish I brought another cardigan. I bought one black cotton one from J. Crew and wear it all the time. I should have bought one in another color, too.

John: I wish I’d brought LESS stuff! But I’m slowly sending things home as I realize I don’t need them.

Amy: Stop trying to shame me, John. I did send home my hair dryer!

26. I would be more concerned about hair products and hair salons than you — there are not a lot of curly haired girls where you are! Can’t wait to hear about the salon experience.

Amy: My salon experiences in Tokyo, Taipei and Hanoi have all been great, thank goodness. I think it’s a bit of an enigma for them to get westerners in their salons so we’ve been a source of great interest. My hair is really easy, though. And my NYC stylist gave me my color “recipe” so as to eliminate some risk. (Shout out to Mai!)

John: My hair-care has been minimal. I rarely shave, either.

27. What do you miss most (aside from me)? Sent by Kim B.

Amy: I do miss you, Kimba! Honestly, it’s the people I miss the most. My family and friends. And sometimes I miss lying on the sofa with a bottle of wine, take-out Indian food, and some good TV or a movie.

John: Definitely the family and friends. Amy has heard my jokes already a hundred times; we finish each other’s sentences. It’s cute, but it’s good to have other people to share with. I also occasionally miss just hanging out on the couch in my underwear, watching “The Big Lebowski” for the hundredth time while eating cold, leftover Lo Mein directly out of the container, hoping Amy doesn’t catch me. The closest we came to that was during a rainy day in Niseko, Japan.

28. Do you have alone time? (aside from John’s time with the lady-scooter)


Amy: Not really. John is not a breakfast person so when we have free breakfast at some hotels, I’ll go down by myself and eat alone while he sleeps, showers, etc. And the hair salon is a guaranteed 2-hours of alone time every month. But that’s about it. We’re getting along very well. ☺

John: We are getting along well, and spend most of our time together. Amy goes to sleep before I do, so some nights I’ve stayed out alone, whether it’s been watching a United match at some local pub, or a night in Sapporo where I met a cool bartender and we chatted for a few hours. In Cambodia I spent a few nights talking to Ox, the owner of Castaways. But generally we’re together.

29. Do you have insurance?

Amy: Yes. We got health insurance and we also have travel insurance. The travel insurance is key because it will cover not only lost luggage but also anything serious if we needed to be evacuated from a country. (See: “The Impossible.” But not you, Mom & Jan…don’t see that movie. Ever.)

30. How are you paying your taxes?

Amy: So if you thought I was a planner, you should see John in action. He’s already estimated his taxes and sent his stuff to our tax guy. I’m just going to send along my W-4 and see what happens.

John: Not true. I prepared a checklist of documents we need to send in, I added up our receipts and deductibles before we left, and I’m waiting for all the tax documents to start coming in. Once all of them have come in (based on the checklist), we’ll submit that to our tax guy – nothing’s been sent in yet.

31. Have you found any good beers you can recommend?

Amy: Yes! As previously stated, I really liked Beer Lao Dark. And we’ve been collecting beer caps and coasters from everywhere we’ve been so we’ll have a lot of beer discussions/debate with AV aids in our basement bar when we return to the States.

John: Beer Lao Dark was excellent. The Japanese had some great beers as well, like the Hitachinos. Most of the beers in Southeast Asia have been okay, but all like Budweiser – meant to be light and cold to combat the heat. Angkor Beer in Cambodia was a good one, though, comparable to an ice cold Bud. I wasn’t terribly impressed with the Korean beer, honestly. And if there’s one beer you can get anywhere in the world, it’s Heineken. It’s in every restaurant and every bar, on every menu everywhere we’ve been. I hate the stuff.

Amy: Andy would be so happy.

32. Would you recommend travel for other couples?

John: I would recommend travel for other couples, absolutely. The bigger questions are where and for how long? You really have to know who you are, and what you want to get out of the trip. This trip, in particular, takes a lot of work. There’s been a lot of fun and relaxation, but there’s also been a lot of planning, and stress, and unpredictability. You have to be prepared for that, and you have to have a partner who can compliment and even carry you at times – when you lose your phone, or your tooth, or when you get sick – whatever it might be. If you’re both not up for that, you may need to have something that’s been planned for you. No crime in that. Or you may want to do something terribly adventurous, but only for a short time. It all comes down to who you are, both individually and as a team. But travel? YES.

33. Any words of wisdom from the travel couple? Others would be interested in what you are doing and how you are doing it.

John: As for words of wisdom, see above, I guess… Just know it takes a lot of planning, that it’s not all a vacation. You have to both agree on what you’re doing – there needs to be a lot of understanding, a lot of compromise, and a sense of humor about things. And a big sense of curiosity mixed with a large dose of tolerance and patience, for whatever may come your way. As far as any details of how to do it, that’s much harder – it all depends on what you want to do. For us, it was basically the following:

1. Research where you want to go.
2. Figure out the best time to go to those places.
3. Put together an itinerary.
4. Put together a budget.
5. Revise your itinerary based on your budget.
6. Revise your budget based on your revised itinerary.
7. Sell everything you own.
8. Revise your budget.
9. Plan as much as you want or can ahead of time
10. Say goodbye.

On Thursday 16 January, we head to Yangon, Myanmar – previously known as Rangoon, Burma. We hear the internet there could be non-existent, or at least pretty shaky, so there might be a week or so of radio silence until we get to Kuala Lumpur. We’ll try to squeeze in one more blog post before we leave, though. (Another New Year’s Resolution!) Until then, adios from Thailand!

A quick update from Thailand: I know it’s been a while since we posted so just wanted to let you know that we’re safe and sound on Koh Samet island. The wifi stinks but the scenery sure doesn’t! Back to Bangkok on Saturday with better internet service and a more in-depth blog post. Until then, stay warm, friends!

Happy New Year, Mom! Hope you and the Snow Birds are doing well! We arrived safe-and-sound in Bangkok on New Year’s Day. We’re still working on the questions everyone submitted for the Q&A (we’ll post very soon, I promise) so I thought I’d do a quick update.

I know the epic train ride was post-Christmas, but I did want to tell you about the awesome food tour we went on on Christmas day. I read about this guy, Mark, in the NY Times who does a food blog in Hanoi (StickyRice) and also does food tours. We managed to get on a tour last-minute for Christmas morning. Here was Christmas breakfast at 9:00am:

This was a delectable fish soup in a tomato broth. You could add your own chills, etc. to spice it up. This is where we ate it:

Christmas Eve dinner at the Metropole is a distant memory…

Here’s a quick gallery of what we ate and where we ate it with our lovely host Mark and Per & Christina from Hong Kong by way of Sweden:

(I have about 200 other photos for those who are interested. John and I will be hosting a week-long slide show when we get home in November.)

Christmas night, we had drinks over-looking the beautiful Hoan Kiem lake before heading to a local place for a traditional Vietnamese dinner.

The next day was our last in Hanoi before the overnight train ride to Hoi An. We just strolled around the city and hung in the park for a bit. And that was where John bought this bird whistle for $1 dollar. The man he bought it from gave him a quick lesson. It sounds nice at first but after the three hundredth time, not so much.

Then it was the dreaded train ride (see previous post).

We sort of glossed over Hoi An in the last post, but it is a really lovely little town. We rode our bikes all over, had some great meals, and got dangerously close to cattle. It was an adventure.

From Hoi An, we FLEW to Ho Chi Minh City (praised be to Baby Jesus) to see the cousins again and pick up our giant bags. But who did we run into at the airport? Our neighbors from NYC! Drew and Samantha lived on our floor in the building! How crazy is that? It’s a small, small world.

Back in Ho Chi Minh, we did lots of laundry, re-packed our giant bags, and had a wonderful time with Missy and her family. We also squeezed in another food tour on New Year’s Eve, this one on the back of Vespa scooters. It was pretty hilarious.

We got back to Missy’s just around 11pm. We watched the end of “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” with the fam, grabbed some champers, and headed over to their neighbor’s house. The wife is from Ecuador and it’s a tradition to write your wishes for the New Year down on a little piece of paper and put it in the pocket of a doll. Then you set the doll on fire. Being a pyromaniac, John loved this.

After watching the doll burn and ringing in the new year, it was off to bed. We flew from HCMC to Bangkok on New Year’s Day.

So here we are in Bangkok. We’ll be here until Monday when we head to one of the Thai islands (Koh Samet, I think). We’ll post the Q&A blog entry soon, but we just wanted to wish you, and everyone, a Happy, healthy 2014!

Thursday night, Amy and I left Hanoi for Hoi An. It’s a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage site on the South China Sea – low slung, brightly-washed buildings on a slow-moving river, and at night, twinkling lanterns that give it a romantic feel.

If it wasn’t a real place, you’d think this was the Epcot version of Vietnam. Situated about halfway up the coast between Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), it’s accessible via Da Nang, which is a very quick flight away. But we didn’t fly.

We took an overnight sleeper train.

Neither of us was terribly excited about a 15-hour train journey, but there’s a company in Vietnam that offers a “luxury” overnight sleeper car for western tourists: all the amenities of a hotel room crammed onto the rails, and at a very reasonable price, not unlike a room for a night. So we determined we’d give it a try. I’d convinced Amy of the romance of the sleeper, having experienced it several times during my study abroad. And while Amy has never done a sleeper, she did enjoy a classic train experience on our honeymoon, when we took an Orient Express train from Machu Picchu to Cusco, a three-hour trip that included a five-course meal and a mariachi band.

We were delusional in thinking this journey would be the same. This would not be riding a Eurail pass on an efficient German train, and it would be far from the luxury of the Orient Express. We came to realize this very quickly when we went to the tourist train office. The luxury train was sold out for days – it’s the holiday season, and there are lots of tourists around. Our next best option would be to take the “soft sleeper” offered by Vietnam Rail itself, basically their first class sleeper. So we headed across the street to the Hanoi station ticket office.

Buying train tickets in Vietnam is one part DMV, one part Spanish Inquisition, and one part Rollerball. You have to navigate the bureaucracy, ask relentless questions to get any answers, and meanwhile keep elbowing and shouldering fellow ticket buyers who are literally trying to push you away from the window. We took a number, sat in the airless waiting area, and watched the numbers slowly click by. Eventually our number was called. We approached the window:

“Tomorrow, 26th, Soft Sleeper to Da Nang, 2 persons.”
“NO. SOLD OUT.”
“Next day? The 27th?”
(A guy came up on my left and tried to push me out of the way to access the window. I elbowed him in the shoulder. I lived in New York for twenty years.)
The ticket seller started typing. Then more Typing. Numerous glances at an ancient computer screen. Then a look at several columns of numbers hand-written on the back of an envelope (what?!). Leafing through a rubber-banded packet full of tickets. More typing. More typing….
(The same guy tried to push me again, shoving his number in the window. I elbowed his ribs. An older man sidled up to my right side. I was not afraid to elbow an old man, if it came to it. I needed to get to Da Nang, damnit.)
“NO. SOLD OUT.”
“Okay, HARD-sleeper, two persons, on 26th…”
(I elbowed two people, including a young woman, simultaneously on my left; checked my pocket for my money; looked over my shoulder to make sure Amy was okay on my right – she was shooting daggers at the old man – and I leaned in to obscure any possible entry to the window, making my shoulders broad. I basically stuck my head through the window, like an ostrich. Though perhaps a guillotine is the better metaphor here…)
“NO. SOLD OUT.”

You can see where this was going. Nowhere, fast. About a half-hour and several bruised ribs later, we secured two hard-sleeper berths on the 26th. This is after the ticket lady told me repeatedly that the soft AND hard sleepers on the 26th were sold out, and the 27th would require moving berths to a different car at 1:00am midway through the journey. I think ultimately, after my refusing to leave, my asking question after question after question, and my callous disregard for human life and clear dominance playing “pushy-shovey”, she simply wanted to get rid of me. So we got two tickets for the day we wanted.

An explanation of the hard sleeper: a hard sleeper is a compartment with six bunks and mattresses about an inch thick. Not the luxury tourist tickets we originally wanted, not a first class car as we’d hoped. It was a sleeper car, yes, but now we were riding with the great unwashed. The romance was over… The nightmare was about to begin. There would be no mariachi band.

At 6:30pm on the 26th, we boarded the train at Hanoi Station for our 7pm departure. After walking past a “washing up” area with two already polluted sinks, we squeezed into the hall past about 100 Vietnamese people carrying oversized bags to find our berth. We approached the door and peered in to see which level of hell we’d been assigned.

To our great relief, we found two absolutely delightful British women – Jo and Sam – who, like us, had been stuck with the hard-sleeper. The four of us made introductions, traded war stories, and had a few laughs. We also had two Vietnamese gents with us. They each had the uppermost berths, and retired there almost immediately for most of the journey. They were pleasant, unassuming, and generally kept to themselves except for the occasional trip to the stainless steel bathroom at the end of the train car.

With fifteen hours ahead of us in a room the size of a crowded prison cell, the four of us quickly broke into a handful of tepid beers we brought along, or, in Amy’s case, a bottle of red wine.

We exchanged travel stories and watched the world pass by our window. About an hour into the trip, Amy decided to explore the train and go find the “Club Car,” where we’d heard rumors you could buy food and drinks. From here out things got interesting.

Like a modern-day Marco Polo, Amy came back with fascinating tales of strange people, foreign lands, and a Shangri-La where one could enjoy life with cheap beer and open spaces. The Club Car, we were told, had café seating, big windows on either side, and a small staff eager to serve the weary traveller. But first, Amy warned us, to reach this fairyland, you had to navigate through two cars of open seating – the Greyhound bus of Vietnam Rail – the cheap seats – a veritable Scylla and Charybdis of cranky old people, crying children, snotty teenagers, cellphone zombies, aisle-standers, leg-extenders, loud-talkers, and worst of all, vestibule-packing smokers.

(Please note: many of these photos are blurry because of the rocking of the train. It’s not a terribly smooth ride in Vietnam, and we tried our best.)

I was game, of course, but Jo and Sam were happy to stay back in the sleeper, likely looking forward to a little peace and quiet. Amy and I went into the hallway and immediately started following two other gents headed in the same direction, each tippling a can of cheap Vietnamese beer along the way. We had encountered another advance team from the rear of the train.

After a few minutes, we reached the elusive Club Car. And Amy was right: there were about six train employees, all looking incredibly bored, and a handful of Vietnamese passengers eating bowls of soup. Wooden booths were set next to large windows, and a run-down bar at the end of the car stood opposite a few refrigerators and cases of beer, soda, and other supplies. The two advance-men slipped into a rear booth by the door, and with no other seating available, Amy and I asked if we could join them.

Here we met Chris and John, an Irishman and Aussie, respectively, who had only recently met as part of a tour group. They were the reason we couldn’t get the luxury tourist berths, as their group was taking up the entire car. Apparently they had been through a rough tour day together, and were escaping their wives, families, and less sociable tour members. They had been to a Vietnamese “water puppet” show earlier in the day. We asked them how it was. John replied, “it was SHIT!” Chris said he was unsure, because he fell asleep when it started. John said he would recommend it to all fellow travellers, because “if I had to sit through that rubbish, then so does everyone else!” We all got along swimmingly.

During our conversation with Chris and John, a clearly inebriated Vietnamese fellow sat at the table across from us, drinking a glass of hot milk. He interrupted our conversation to ask where I was from. He laughed and we shook hands. Then he asked Amy for a piece of paper, and wrote something totally illegible. He laughed even harder, so we all laughed with him, nervously. Then he made a two-finger pointing motion, a la the Three Stooges eye-poke, and said something like “FEE-SHEE!” Then he made a slashing motion: “CHECK!” He repeated this several times. I mimicked him. “FEE-SHEE! CHECK!” He laughed even harder. We did this about 10 times, back and forth, and he was laughing hysterically. This guy would not stop laughing. He slapped me on the back several times, shook my hand again. Then I tried to explain to him as best I could that I had no idea what he was talking about. He asked Amy for more paper, and wrote something equally as illegible. Then he motioned to take pictures. He couldn’t stop laughing. We took this picture:

Then we shook hands AGAIN, and he made another “FEE-SHEE! CHECK!”, laughed like a hyena, and was off into the night, never to be seen again. If anyone out there is familiar with Vietnamese culture or humor, and can explain this to us, please do!

After that new friend left, we met a newer one. I spotted a mouse. A small black critter the size of a ping-pong ball scurried across the floor from one booth to another. From here out, Amy kept her feet up on the booth. Several times over we would see the Club Car mouse flitting from booth to booth. Chris and John wanted to buy the mouse a beer. With all the excitement, Amy went back to liberate Jo and Sam, letting them know the Club Car was a good time. They joined us, and we all shared several good stories told over several bad Vietnamese beers.

At one point I got up to use the restroom. This is what it looked like:

Like all the other bathrooms on the train, it was stainless steel, the floor and seat covered in water. Chris and John told us their Vietnamese tour guide had actually taken sheets of newspaper and cut holes in them to make seat covers for the tour group. We were not so lucky. But I’ll tell you this without any going into any graphic detail: I never once sat in one of those bathrooms the entire trip, I only stood. And in standing, I noticed an electrical panel. Here’s a close-up of what caught my eye:

I have no idea what that button does, or what you would push it for, but I sure as hell was not going to find out.

Closer to ten o’clock, a few other things happened. We were joined by a bunch of Vietnamese military who sat in a booth near us. They looked at us and laughed.

John was now stacking beer cans. The mouse was getting cocky and making regular appearances. And one of the waitstaff put her hair in curlers to create buns on the sides. We called her “Princess Leia.” I tried to take a stealth picture of her, but because of the increased rocking of the train, the green focus light kept flashing, and she waved me off angrily. The picture never turned out because the train was rocking so much.

A few minutes later, we were presented with a sign that said the Club Car was closing at 10pm. We hadn’t seen it before, but it was obvious we’d worn out our welcome. We all said goodbye, and retired to our respective sleeper cars. Jo, Sam, Amy, and I got back to our bunks to find our two upper-berth mates fast asleep. We all quietly rearranged our bags, got ready for bed, and I slipped into the middle berth, with Amy on the bottom bunk. Here’s a point-of-view shot of my berth:

I had my toiletry bag hanging next to my head. My day-pack was at my feet, along with my button-down shirt and jacket. I had two posters rolled up next to me. It was a tight fit, not helped by the two chains that hold up the berth on either end. And I was otherwise fully clothed, minus my shoes.

The pillow and duvet were actually pretty nice, but the mattress – what there was of it – had no give. If you lay on your back, your spine started to get sore. If you lay on your side, your hips started to get sore. If you lay on your stomach, your knees and pelvis felt the brunt. It wasn’t horrible, by any means, but it didn’t help me sleep at all. And I was stupid enough to keep my belt on, so the buckle and leather ate into me as well.

Amy, of course, can sleep in a hurricane. I, on the other hand, am a light sleeper, and spent most of the night awake. I heard the guy in the upper berth snoring. I felt the rocking of the train. I heard the whistle, I heard coughing down the hall. I heard everything. As I told everyone in the morning – either I couldn’t sleep, or I had a very vivid dream that I couldn’t sleep. I occasionally peered out the window, but couldn’t see much, other than once seeing a beautiful sliver of the moon that faded into some trees all too quickly.

But it could have been worse. Consider the following photos. This woman’s bed is in the hall, right by the bathroom. No doors, nothing, just an open platform next to the latrine.

See this folded up lounge chair in the sink area? – a woman SLEPT in that lounge chair, next to that sink. And her husband slept in the desk chair – upright!

People were sleeping anywhere there was a flat surface, or a surface to lean against. I say this with a great respect and jealousy – the Vietnamese can sleep anywhere. At one point, in the midst of my restlessness, I took a trip to the can. I slowly eased my way down to the floor and my shoes, and saw a mouse – maybe the same Club Car mouse? – run across the floor. I withheld that information from Amy until morning.

Eventually morning did come, and with it the news that we were running two hours late. Of course we were. Bathed in our own filth, each of us got up, rearranged our bags, and quietly waited to arrive in DaNang. We had become the great unwashed.

We did get to see some pretty good scenery along the way, though, as we chugged along the coast of the South China Sea.

At one point Amy and I returned to the Club Car to get coffee and tea. First we walked through the open seating car – Oh Lord! It smelled like a ripe high school locker room. Just humid and sweaty and reeking of humanity. When we got to the Club Car, Amy ordered a coffee, and I pointed to a menu at the words “Lipton Tea.” What I realized all too soon, however, was that the menu was printed over a picture of some of the beverages on offer, and the person serving us thought I was pointing at the picture, not the words. I was given a Heineken for breakfast. I was not going to complain. I needed it. FEE-SHEE! CHECK!

We returned to our bunkmates, and a few uneventful hours later – 17 hours after leaving Hanoi – we pulled quietly into Da Nang station. We said our goodbyes, grabbed our bags, and after an hour-long taxi ride, Amy and I were at our hotel in Hoi An. We took long showers. We stretched out and napped on the queen size bed. We watched bad movies on HBO. It was a great afternoon.

Today is our last day in Hoi An. We’ve recovered fully. We also ran into Sam and Jo on the street; they seem to have recovered well, too. We’ve been taking bike rides through town and the surrounding countryside, generally enjoying the wide-open spaces. And tomorrow morning, after we say goodbye to Hoi An, we’re flying from Da Nang to Saigon.

Not your average hotel room video here… A peek inside our 6-person sleeping berth on the overnight train (my first!) from Hanoi to Hoi An. I won’t bury the lead: We survived! (Shout out to my old friend, Red Wine.) A full narrative of the trip to come from John shortly.

Well, here it is. It’s Christmas Eve in Hanoi, just minutes from Christmas Day. And perhaps the most alien of Christmas seasons I’ve ever spent. Amy and I have been on the road for three months now, and we’ve known the whole time that we were going to miss Christmas at home.

Of course we did something special to celebrate the holiday. First we went to vigil mass at the big church here in Hanoi, St. Joseph’s.

As chance would have it, the service was in French, with the occasional Vietnamese thrown in for good measure. My high school French helped along the way, as well as a familiarity with the liturgy, so we were able to follow along pretty well. I should add that I was certain when they were talking about “the lamb of God” because I’ve eaten at several French restaurants. The best part of the mass was when they had a bunch of kids come up dressed as Joseph and Mary et al, and Mary (Marie?) plunked the baby Jesus doll on the floor – right on cue – when it got to His being born in a manger (or “creche,” as the Frenchies call it). It was truly fun and fascinating.

Afterward, we went out for a very nice dinner at the Hotel Metropole, a century-old Hanoi establishment which boasts a reknowned guestlist including such luminaries as Charlie Chaplin, Somerset Maughm, Brad and Angelina, a cadre of Prime Ministers and Presidents, and Brendan Frasier (I’m not making this up). All in all, we made the most of our Christmas Eve in Hanoi. But it’s just not the same.

I’ve never missed Christmas. There was the one year I got home from studying abroad late on Christmas Eve, but I was there with the family for Christmas Day. And another year I spent Christmas in Bermuda with a girlfriend’s family (she was there, too, naturally), but I was around for the holiday build-up, and spoke to my parents. And of course I’ve had Christmas with Amy’s family, but that’s still family, and it still feels like home.

This year, let’s face it: we’re missing Christmas. We’re in Vietnam, for one thing, which isn’t really synonymous with the yuletide spirit. There’s no Charlie Brown Christmas, or Hermie the Elf, or Heat Miser, or any of those things that feel familiar and make me happy every holiday season. In fact, there’s been no real “holiday season” at all for us to experience – no putting up lights, no 24-hours of “A Christmas Story” – or even Black Friday or Cyber Monday or any of the crummy Christmas stuff. No Al Roker lighting the tree, no Darlene Love on Letterman.

We did see decorations going up in Seoul right after Halloween.

We did have a great Thanksgiving dinner in Hong Kong.

We did see Santas and reindeer in Ho Chi Minh City.

And yes, even Cambodia has Christmas decorations.

But random decorations in a faraway land pale in comparison to being home for the holidays, whether it’s with family, or your own home. I freely admit I miss Christmas in New York. I miss buying a five-foot tree for a half-million dollars, and fitting it into a one-bedroom apartment, only to find random pine needles behind the stereo in August. I miss the rush, the madness, the lights on Broadway, and the crowds I enjoy complaining about near Rockefeller Center, which you avoid like the plague, except for the one time you have to go see the windows at Saks on your way to drinks at the King Cole Bar. There’s something magical about Christmas in New York, I’m not afraid to admit I’m corny about that stuff.

And all the things people post on Facebook. The holiday dinners, the catching up with old friends, and even the snow. We saw that “Christmas Jammies” video like every other human being with an internet connection. I saw pictures of the New York Reds Christmas Party – I love that party, and seeing the pictures made me jealous. And there was another post about Christmas songs that mentioned the Waitresses’ “Christmas Wrapping,” which other than Darlene Love’s “Merry Christmas Baby (Please Come Home)” is just about my favorite Christmas song. It made my heart sink, because I hadn’t even THOUGHT of that song until December 18th or so when I read it. And I hadn’t thought about Darlene Love until I wrote this…

I know… We’re on a year-long world tour. Poor John and Amy… I get it. But if there’s one time I wish I was home, this is it.

This week, I’ve been a bit homesick.

But we’re not coming home. We’ll Skype with our families tomorrow, we’ll have a memorable day on an even more memorable trip, and we’ll file this one away as “A Very Special Vietnamese Christmas.” And we’ll look forward to ringing in 2014, seeing the rest of the world, and being home with our families for next Thanksgiving and Christmas.

But until then, we’ll keep meeting like this. From both of us: To Mom and Dad, Annie, the Arndts, the Scan-Fenns, the Brueckners, the Barkhorns, and Jack; to Gram Smith and Gram Mack; to all our friends and family; and to everyone else following us on here: Merry Christmas.

HOLIDAY POSTSCRIPT: And speaking of Christmas, the answer you’ve all been waiting for: It’s a Christmas Miracle! Several days later, the Mekong Catfish appears to have caused no ill effects other than some jangled nerves and Howard Hughes-like attention to bacterial avoidance. Case in point: yesterday we had a few draft beers on a popular corner here in Hanoi. But we did NOT order food. Why?! Because this is LITERALLY the view into the kitchen from the bathroom – WHICH HAD NO DOOR:

We continue to be vigilant. It’s a New Year’s Resolution (which will be broken by March like all New Year’s Resolutions).

PEACE OUT!!