The little countdown gizmo on this site tells me that we’ve been on the road for 299 days as of today.  You’d think that in that time I would have travel arrangement down to a science.  Apparently not.

We were in Narvik, Norway and needed to fly to Oslo.  Before taking off to the Lofotens, I volunteered to get tickets on Norwegian Airlines.  Somehow, I managed to get a single ticket for myself and zero for Sachi.  To make up for it, I speedily got another ticket and we were set to fly in four days.  Upon returning to Narvik and our trusty wireless Internet connection, we checked email to verify our flight time and found that something was amiss.  Apparently, in my haste, I got Sachi a ticket for a flight that left at 12:30 that day instead of my flight at 9:15 that night. Of course, we discovered this too late at about 2:30. Despite my pleas with the Norwegian customer service, we were forced to buy another ticket, this time with Sachi on the same flight as me. 

I was humiliated and embarrassed – how could I be so careless?  Apparently it was easy, because when I got the third ticket, I purchased it under my name instead of Sachi’s, creating two Lee LeFevers on same flight.  Ugghhh.   

This was further proof that Sachi and I make a great team and my part of the team needs to stay away from airline reservations for a while. Luckily though, we have a killer jump shot and lots of team spirit.

It is a Trans-Siberian right of passage - drinking vodka with Russians on a train in the middle of Siberia. This video shares a few of the moments I'll never forget and a few that I can't really remember.

Read the story from this night

I boarded the train in Ulan Battar with what I figured were blisters on my behind from hours of riding Mongolian horses on the steppe.  The horses and saddle were a bit too small for a western butt like mine. Sachi, the lucky, found that a couple of layers of skin had been worn away.  This is not a good way to start a two day train ride.

From the moment we stepped on the train, we were focused on the upcoming border ordeal with Russia, famous for its 11 hour wait.  The waiting around was not so bad except that the bathrooms on the train are locked for a majority of the time.  Of course, this is because the toilet dumps directly onto the tracks below, potentially making the already sketchy border area a sewer as well.  Our goal was bladder management, but just in case, we are holding a couple of plastic bottles in reserve.

We knew we were supposed to arrive at the border at 4AM so we both got up at 3:30AM to do what we could in the last minutes of the unlocked toilet.  The train arrived, the toilets were locked and we were left alone for 4 hours until 8AM, when the wait began for the border guards to arrive and take our passports for processing. 

For the entire train journey to this point, we operated only in the moment - by necessity.  There was no train itinerary and the attendants only communicated in very basic terms.  So we sat and waited and looked for our fellow passengers to appear on the platform - a sure sign that we can leave the train for a brief moment.  Other than that we just asked "Can we get off?" and then try to figure out if the answer was a “yes” or "no”. Our fellow Western travelers were in a similar predicament.

The border crossing into Russia was done with little fanfare.  However, someone presented himself soon after the border that was a bit startling for us.  For the first time in 8 months, a government representative had blonde hair and blue eyes.  Over a few minutes it was clear that the border with Mongolia seems to represent the most genetically distinct border we've crossed.  Within about two kilometers the people became, very, very Russian.  From what we'd seen thus far, the Russians are quite beautiful people with bright eyes, distinct features and slim physiques. 

Just before stopping at customs an Asian women entered our berth and hung a jacket on a hook and walked away as if we would be happy to carry the jacket with us through customs. Sachi promptly hung it outside where she collected it quickly.  Shaaah, as if.

 Counting the 4am arrival at the Mongolian border and 2 hours of free time on the Russian side, the ordeal did take about 11 hours and no plastic bottles were needed.  However, I will never forget an event just before departure that almost made me mess my pants.  A group of 5 of us left the train station to visit a shop about 500 yards from the station and we left with over an hour before our 3PM departure time.  Our quest was successful and we came back to the station with vodka bottles in hand - but something important was missing.  Our train was not sight.  We rushed up to the platform and looked around as if it might be camouflaged somehow - but no train was on track number 2.  Soon after we also realized that all five of us lacked any necessary means to catch another train.  We had all left for the store without a passport, train ticket, extra money or credit cards.  For a fleeting moment, our world and prospects for recovery seemed quite bleak and I wondered how I would be reunited with Sachi, clearly on her way into Siberia without me.  Then, to our surprise we saw a train approaching from the opposite direction and soon after a woman we recognized.  Was this our train?  Looking in the window, I met eyes with Sachi on the train, smiling and shaking her head.  She, along with the other passengers in our car were also surprised and briefly concerned when the train suddenly departed.  As it turns out, it only left the station briefly to change tracks and there was much relief.  Never again will I leave a train without extra money, a passport and ticket.

I had made a decision and I was going to act on it.  Gone were the days of standing passively in line while Chinese people wedge themselves in front of me and place an order before I could react.  I was going stand up for myself and try to be a little more Chinese.

This is not the kind of thing you can plan – it just has to happen and just last night, I had my chance.  We were in the Shanghai subway terminal in line for our first subway card at a vending machine, as we’ve done so many times before in other cities.  Just as the couple in front of me at the machine received their card and turned away, a young Chinese guy stepped directly in front of me.  So, with great determination, I stepped in front of him enough to place my right shoulder at about his eye level and in a single motion stepped directly in front of the vending machine.   It was mine!  HAHA!  I’ll show you line breaker!  I’m no push-over tourist softy!

So there I was, with this foreign and unfamiliar machine staring me in the face.  It was mine, yes, but I realized all too quickly that I had no idea how to use it.  The instructions were in English and the #1 read “Select Fare”.  Scratching my head with waves of embarrassment pending, I searched the machine for anything that said “Fare”.  Nothing.  I inquisitively pressed a couple of random buttons in the hopes that something would happen. Nothing.  My pride was on the line here and I was blowing it!  Thoughts of fleeing in shame entered my mind when I heard a voice over my shoulder, “Where do you need to go?”  It was the line breaker politely asking a simple question that I couldn’t answer completely.  All we knew was that we needed to go two stops on Line 2.  He ended up doing the whole transaction for me and after many “thank yous” I left with our subway cards in hand and my pride more than a little crushed.

The moral here is that if you’re going to try to act like a local, be prepared for the entire event.  Going off half-cocked is a good way to shoot yourself in the foot.

Like most people, we've learned to get around Thailand on rented motorbikes or mopeds. Usually they cost between $5-7US per day, not including gas. Filling a motorbike up costs about $2US.

Anyway, one thing we've learned is that you never know what you're going to get, so give the bike a good once-over before striking out into the yonder for a two-wheeled adventure. We should have done that yesterday when we picked our Honda Dream.

The island of Ko Lanta Yai has an elongated north/south shape, with the main roads forming a figure eight. It is about 30 kms long and 6 wide.

As we got on the bike, all was well, though it seemed a little loose on the turns, so I was careful not to push it too hard. Sachi rides double with me. We decided to traverse all 30kms of the east coast, about one half of which is dirt road.

As we got on the dirt road at the north eastern side of the figure 8, I thought to myself "Well it would suck to break down here... There's no one around, its in the heat of the day, we only have sips of water and we don't speak Thai."

It was at about that moment that the looseness I felt before turned into all out squirreliness, with the back tire feeling like it was sliding around in mud. Sure enough, the back tire was completely flat and at the furthest point we could be from where we started.

Being at least 7kms from any place that might be able to help us, we jumped on the moped and rode the flat tire all the way up that dirt road at about 5kph, with the tire struggling to remain intact all the way. The locals we did see could only shake their head and point forward as if to say "keep on going, farangs, I can't help, sorry."

Eventually we made it back to the paved road, which was still a good 20kms from the resort- and we still had a flat tire. Our next goal was to find some sort of service station that could help. In the meantime I could picture us creeping down the side road on the metal rim, with the tire having been shredded to pieces, sparks flying everywhere and each person we meet pointing further down the road, farangs.

Then, only 1-2kms from the dirt road, an oasis appeared on the horizon. It was none other than a full service, fully certified, Honda motorbike service center and showroom. We pulled up, pointed to the tire, they immediately jumped into action, replaced the inner tube, charged us $2.50US (yes, you read that price correctly), and we were on our way in about 20 minutes. We could only smile and shake our heads at how easily we averted what could have been a time consuming, possibly dangerous and certainly annoying experience.

For as long as we're in Ko Lanta, that Honda Dream is going to be our motorbike. We know for sure that it has a brand new back inner tube, and handles adversity like a champ. Plus, if something goes wrong, we know where to go.

I'm not sure whether to say I'm amazed, bewildered, upset or fascinated by the way things work in India.

The difference between home and here is so great and there so many examples that it's hard to describe it except in huge generalities, but here's one example...

After planning a 4 day trip with a driver, we backed out after 1 day. Despite multiple email and phone confirmations, we found out at 5pm that we had no room reserved for tonight. I asked the driver this morning about the hotel and found it was impossible to communicate with him (again, despite confirming an English speaking driver). So, being fed up, we cancelled the whole trip and started over from square one.

We found a hotel and booked a new driver through a gov't tourist office within an hour. The guy above was a huge and honest help and we are now set for the next few days.

Oh and despite everything, we changed our flight to have an extra week in India (now leaving April 2nd). We're gluttons for punishment I guess.

Today reminded us of two things: how luxurious it was to stay with Dina in Mumbai and yes Sandra, where the hell is Mervyn when you need him?

 

Yesterday I had one of the most bizarre, horrible and terrific health problems I've had. We were in Colombo, the capital city of Sri Lanka. Mervyn, our driver, had just dropped us off and we were walking through the markets of Colombo.

The first sign was cramping, starting high in the abdomen and moving lower. Two big waves of cramps made me groan out loud and start to think about the consequences.

We walked on for about 10 minutes and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I went from walking around like a normal person to being (literally) brought to my knees by dizziness and nausea in about 3 minutes. Sachi went into nurse mode and called Mervyn who came quickly.

In the meantime, we asked a policeman who told us a bathroom was a couple of blocks away – too far for me. I was barely conscious with the world swirling around me -walking wasn’t an option. The policeman gave me a chair where I fumbled to remove my shirt that had been soaked by sweat. I distinctly remember the concerned look of people around me. I was pouring sweat from every pore – every pore. I was very concerned about my own condition.

Mervyn came and said that he could get us to a hotel in two minutes. I gathered my senses and made it to the car. The A/C felt so good- but my body needed a bathroom very badly. We arrived at the Grand Oriental Hotel in no time and I couldn’t put my shirt back on myself I was so weak. Sweat was still pouring.

The bathroom door in the lobby said “hotel guests only”. Oh well. I’ll spare you the details of the bathroom, but let’s just say that my body has never been so emptied so efficiently. I pictured someone finding me passed out on that bathroom floor. Luckily, I walked out of the bathroom to more stares of concerned people. Sachi said I was see-through white with blue lips. I felt worse than that.

I sat in the hotel lobby for the next 30 minutes with waves of dizziness threatening a loss of consciousness. A/C, cold water, deep breathing and relaxation went a long way. The sweat finally stopped after every piece of clothing was soaked through. I’ve never sweated so hard.

Literally no more than 1 hour after the first cramps, it was over - I was back to normal for the most part. Just in case, we became customers of the Grand Oriental Hotel for the night where I relaxed and enjoyed a complete feeling of health. I still have no idea what happened, but the most likely culprit was a combination of food and the sweltering heat.

I don't remember ever feeling so badly so quickly. I think I packed a few days of sickness into a matter of minutes. If we were on a bus, or a hike or train, there would have been a very bad situation. But thanks to Mervyn, our trusty driver, we found a safe place for me to recover. Good guy that Mervyn.

 

Guides are big business in Sri Lanka. The government’s tourist board licenses them and they are useful and interesting part of seeing historical sites such as Anuradhapra and Polonoruwa. With the help of Nimal, we hired quality guides ahead of time and didn't regret it. They are essentially interpreters; describing the historical significance of the sites along with some amusing anecdotes.

 Here are our guides for the ancient cities, all of which we enjoyed:

This is R.P. Chandrasa (cell: 0722-925997) specializes in bicylce tours of Anuradhapura.

Our guide for Polonnurawa:

And our guide for the amazing Sigiriya. This guy spoke 5 languages.

 

There seem to be two types of guides: hired ones (above) and leeching ones. With the hired ones, the relationship is clear – for a few dollars, they will be your guide. The leeching ones can be useful, but you should be leery of their agenda.

As we saw many times in the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kandy, Sri Lanka, the guides will sidle up to you, start a friendly conversation and then start to lead a walk describing every plant. These guides may or may not be certified and their business is to provide a guide service in exchange for a tip to be given at the end of the walk. The problem is that this relationship is not clear in the beginning. It’s very easy to assume the guide is a friendly park employee, paid to provide the service. It’s not so and a simple “no guide please” will send the message and they will leave.

Other “guides” however have a different agenda. As we approached the entrance to the Tooth Shrine in Kandy, a young and honest looking guy came and said that we should see the “free” temples before entering the Tooth Temple. He was obviously a leech guide, but we figured we’d see what he had to say. He led us around a bit and said that for one particularly interesting-looking temple, we would need to make a small contribution. We entered the temple and on the way out another man approached us about what appeared to be a visitors book. In the book were the names and addresses of travelers from all over the world followed by amount of contribution. Each person had apparently given from $10-20US (a lot for a “contribution”). I signed my name and told the man that I would not contribute that much. I contributed about $2 and left, much to his chagrin. Upon leaving that area, we tipped the young guide and entered the Tooth Temple.

Looking back, it was clear what had happened. The young man was not just a leech guide – he was in cahoots with the contribution guy, ensuring a flow of naïve tourists were entering the second-tier and “free” attraction, where their cash could be efficiently extracted. That book I signed either contained a list of suckers (me included) or it was designed to relate the desired amount of contribution for those unsure.

Either way, it worked on us and we learned a lesson. I don’t think the guide was completely dishonest, but the scheme was designed to prey on people like us, who struggle with not knowing how much to tip or contribute in all the situations where it is appropriate. It’s a daily battle and we just want to do what is appropriate, which is often very hard to know.

 Singapore is supposed to be the place where we plan the next phase of our trip. Being a major city, comparatively western and an airline hub, we figured it was a good stop for travel planning. Apparently, Singapore or the gods of travel don’t want us to get our planning done.

Today was one of those days where you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. We laughed through it and became quite delirious and in awe at the unbelievable number of road blocks we confronted trying to make one flight reservation. Here is the play-by-play.
All we wanted was to book a flight from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to Mumbai, India, two of the major cities in the region.

• A travel agent was recommended. We walked to it and found that it only booked packages.

• We went to an Internet café and used Expedia to find the flight. No E-tickets can be issued. Roadblock.

• We went to Malaysiaairlines.com, but the site was down. Roadblock.

• We went to Air India, the codeshare airline, the computer we were using did not allow the pop-up necessary to book tickets. Roadblock.

• We walked to the Malaysian Airlines office. They can only sell tickets leaving from Singapore (our current location). Roadblack.

• We try a new Internet café. We find the flight, purchase the ticket only to find out the purchase did not go through- no explanation given, only a phone number. Roadblock.

• We figure the credit card may have blocked the transaction. We enter a shopping center to call an operator, staff tell us that Singapore cannot do collect calls and no one knows how to dial an International Operator. Roadblack.

• Go to a hotel lobby and attempt to call credit card company collect from pay phone- the operator cannot hear us. Try new phone, same problem. Roadblock.

• No one in hotel knows how to contact international assistance. Roadblaock.

• Finally connect to credit card company, but collect charges inexplicably denied, 3 times. Roadbloack

• Run out of change, must find change.

• Buy pre-paid phone card for international calls.

• Leave area and go to subway, find another pay phone. Try international phone card, number to Malaysian Airlines cannot be connected. Roadbloack.

• Spend .60 to have the operator tell us to dial 104 for international call assistance.

• Get through to credit card company – no problem with card- it should work.

• Try to call Malaysian Airlines again with pre-paid card. No Connection. Roadblock.

• Call int’l operator again. Tells us to try using credit card.

• Switch to a pay phone that accepts credit cards. Slide Card- “Card Error”. Try new card: “Replace Handset” was all it said. Roadblock.

• Give up on calling Malaysia Airlines – decide to go home. Need to get Subway tokens, no change smaller than $10. Machine will not accept higher than $5. Go to office, no one present. Roadblock.

• Find change, enter subway, walk to platform, realize wrong platform, exit and return to new platform. Go home with nothing to show for 6 hours of trying to get one ticket.

I’m quite surprised that we made it back to the room without getting hit by a car or accosted in some way. Our issues were certainly part ignorance and part bad luck. Live and learn I suppose.

Later that night, Sachi got the tickets online and we rejoiced. Yaaaay.

Well, I am officially now cameraless.  The Treo (my phone/camera/mp3 player) is gone and we're hoping to get ourselves back on track soon.

It all started a few days ago in Cairns, Australia.  I awoke with a sore throat that got worse over that day and progressed into a full-blown head cold over the next two days. The biggest casuality was my nose, which became chapped from all the blowing.

We were making preparations to leave Australia, which had seen the demise of my normal camera. Though I was still sick, we arrived at the airport bound for Singapore last night.  All was good. 

I am known for a bit of carelessness and losing things easily and Sachi has been diligent in reminding me to look back at my seat after leaving a spot, so as not to leave things behind.

We sat at the gate for our flight to Singapore and I was writing some notes on the Treo and just before we boarded I went to the bathroom, came back, got my bags and we got in line.  Just then, things changed.  Sachi asked "Did you look back?" "No, Did you?" "No".  We shrugged it off as if our karma would protect us.

Once we got on the plane and taxied to the runway it bacame clear that I had made a huge mistake.  I left the Treo at the gate and had the chance to look back and didn't. I am an idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Of course, this is an overnight, 7 hour international flight and despite having the captain telex the airport, no one could report the Treo.  I called the phone last night and today to no connection.

In just under a week, we lost two of our most expensive and useful gadgets. We arrived in Singapore at about 3AM and slept a restless sleep. The first words out of Sachi's mouth this morning were "I have sore throat".  Dammit.

It's OK though. We're in Asia! We have travel insurance and the cold isn't really that bad.  I've learned a valuable lesson and we'll mark all this up to experience. This trip will go on and we'll be stronger for it.

The moral of the story is:  ALWAYS, ALWAYS LOOK BACK.