I've graduated

I've grown up and converted to the Wordpress world, hosting my own blog.

You can find me here:

http://deniseesser.com/travelblog

Stay tuned for my adventures in New Zealand and Fiji!

Last Words

Internet time is low, so I'll conclude my blog very, well, boring like.

I spent several hours in Tokyo today, or more actually a burb of Tokyo. It was charming, like Asia meets Europe. Japan is so much more extic then most Asian countries. It definitely has culture. It's also clean and everything is in Japanese only- no English.

But I shopped and walked the streets and saw a temple. I saw a dude cutting up live, squirmy fish to make into sushi, then subsequently had some. Yum!

It's so freakin' expensive in Japan.

Time to catch the last flight.

I have to jet...see you all soon.

Just When I Thought the Adventures Were Over...

Famous last words said by yours truly last night over dinner:
"What a great trip! And we've had some mishaps, but on the whole everything has turned out beautifully. I always expect at least one expensive mishap when I travel, but other than a stolen motorcycle mirror that set me bck $10, there was nothing!"

I should have kept my mouth shut, I thought this afternoon at about 3:00pm when I was sweating bullets, not from the heat, but from the fear of missing my flight, which would be a very expensive mishap for me.

Let me backtrack.

Today was supposed to be uneventful. It was easy: Wake up. Get on bus. Drive to Thailand border for 5 hours. Get on other bus for 5 hours to Bangkok. Taxi to airport for 1 hour. Catch flight to Tokyo at midnight.

We were supposed to be picked up at our hotel at 7am.

The bus was supposed to leave at 7:30am and arrive at about 5:30pm. Lots of time, right? After 2 bus switches, we finally got loaded on the final bus at 9:30am. 2 hours late. Ouch. And this bus was in terrible shape.

To add insult to injury, there was no undercarriage. This means that all our back packs got crammed in the back. There was way too much luggage so they just crammed it in the isles! They told us to get in, and we had to hop over the seats to sit down!

And they crammed 35 people on the bus. They put a plastic lawn chair next to the driver and had one guy sit there!

I got stuck at the very back, in the aisle, squashed between 4 people, no leg room because of the luggage on the floor, and no place to rest my head because of the luggage on the back sticking out.

After 5 minutes, we stopped for gas.

The A/C was broken.

After 10 minutes we stopped on the side of the road for 15 minutes for no foreseeable reason! Of course, we cannot communicate with the bus driver to see what the issue is. So we just sat and sweat and sweat some more.

The roads were terrible. Not even paved!

We were insufferably hot and sweaty, crammed in like sardines.

As we bumped along, the luggage fell on our heads with the extra bad bumps.

We drove for 2 hours and came to a halt because they were fixing a bridge! All traffic was stopped. We all got out like herded cattle (hopping over all the seats because of the luggage in the aisles) and they were welding this bridge! Unbelievable!

Fortunately it was only about 1/2 an hour. But things were getting ridiculously delayed, and I was worried about my flight. You never know what kind of time lapses customs will bring.

The bridge was finally fixed and we breathed a sigh of relief as we got over it alive. we crept along on the unpaved roads, through the potholes, and welcomed the breeze from the open windows.

But there was so much dust, so we were getting filthy with the open windows. By the time we stopped for lunch, all the bags and our clothes and skin had a film of red dust over it. Then a truck spraying water drove by and we all got wet as it hosed us through the open windows, unintentionally.

After the 45 minute lunch break, I started doing the math and I was getting very scared that I wouldn't make my flight. What a stressful feeling, sitting in the bus, sweating, unable to stretch my legs or lean my head back, every so often putting back a fallen bag, thinking that I might miss my flight.

But I threw some positive energy on the situation after I was fretting myself into a frenzy and things changed drastically.

Customs went smoothly. We switched to a gorgeous double decker bus at the border. It had working A/C. Best of all, Kevin talked to the boss there and explained my potential flight dilemma, and they agreed to drop me off near the airport, thus saving me an hour! (The Bangkok airport is far away from the city)

Getting to Thailand was surprisingly soothing, in part because it was slightly familiar, and more so because it's so developed compared to the countries we've been in! I do love Thailand.

I was a little worried about the bus dropping me off. Flashbacks of Lynae and I's broken cab en route to the airport last year and being stuck on the 6 lane highway with all our luggage caused me some concern. After all, no empty cabs go to the airport- they only bring people there.

When the bus pulled over for me (the driver warned me) I was dismayed when the door opened and I saw I was on the side of the 6 lane highway. But a bus worked helped me with my luggage and lead me behind the bus...where there was a cab waiting for me. They had called him for me! What a great turn of events.

So everything worked out, but man, NEVER take a bus from Siem Reap, Cambodia, to the Bangkok border. And I know this entry is not written very well, but I'm in a bit of a hurry here.

One more day of adventures in Tokyo...

I'm Dreaming of a Scorching Christmas

I woke up at 4:30am this morning, Christmas morning. It was not to see what Santa brought me for Christmas, either. This morning I was privileged enough to see the sun rise over Angkor Watt, the most famous temple in the world; a historical landmark so awesome that it has been the subject of books, text books, documentaries and scholars.

Let me back up a little. It’s Christmas Day. There’s no red and white decorations. No twinkling lights. Certainly no snow. It’s business as usual here in Cambodia with the exception of the occasional Santa hat balanced on a waiter’s head or a rare tattered sign stating “Merry Christmas!!!” (I suspect that they have not yet realized how politically incorrect they are. What would Buddha say about this Christian greeting!) In fairness to our hotel, they gave Christmas decorations a valiant, albeit rare, effort by resurrecting about a hundred balloons on strings in front of the hotel. Balloons for Christmas. Hmmm. That’s a new one.

I am sitting here, sweating, enjoying the occasional reprise from the wimpy fan that happens to blow my way every so often, listening to the restaurant stereo that toggles between Top 40 American hip hop and Bob Marley. Beats cheesy Christmas carols by a mile (depending of course on which Top 40 song is playing).

And while I am sad to have abandoned my family again for Christmas, I wish more that they were here then I was there. That would probably just about make this Christmas perfect. So mom, dad, Lynae, Hayden, Mike, (not Josh- I’m ignoring you right back) Grandma, Uncle Rob & Ron, Aunt Debb & Selene, and families...here’s a personal Merry Christmas, I love you, miss you, we’re thinking of you...you know, all that jazz.

For Christmas Eve last night I treated myself to a lobster dinner and 2 glasses of Cambodian wine. It was ironically enough the best meal I have had in Asia thus far, all for the total price of $7.50. Delicious! I’d take lobster over turkey any day. I could definitely get used to Christmas in this climate very easily.

But back to Angkor Watt. It’s simply mind boggling. It’s completely unbelievable to see what human beings built 1000 years ago without the technology we have today. These temples are huge and ornate and so numerous... I won’t bore you with the details. Google it if you’re interested in more info on the temples themselves. Instead I will be generous with the picture posting.

Since Angkor Watt is massive, so we hired a tuk-tuk for the day to take us around. It was amazing to see the sun rise (first sunrise I have gotten up for in years). I mean, these dudes designed and built this particular temple with a lake in front of it so that the sunrise would always be spectacular and reflect in the lake.

One of the temples has massive tree roots growing all through and around it, further destroying it. It’s incredible to see. We even saw a portion of a temple where a scene from “Tomb Raider” was filmed.


We climbed one of the temples to the top. The problem with the steps leading up is that Buddhism demands that you bow down to Buddha in the temples. They accomplish this by building stairs so steep you have to hunch over to climb them, thus bowing. These steep stairs are therefore a treacherous climb to the top. It was fun, but man, just another potential death trap here in Asia.

Speaking of death traps, we saw some local children playing in one of the temples. They were giggling and squealing and playing tag and running around. I’m not an overly safety conscious person, but I thought to myself, “Jeepers, those kids are playing in all these big, heavy stones with 10ft drops. That can’t be safe.”


Within five minutes I heard a clunk and then some crying. One adorable little girl had fallen from about a 10ft ledge and hit her head on a rock. Kevin helped clean her up until her mom came. All day he has felt bad for her. “She was a mess,” he said. He thinks she’ll be okay, but she was pretty banged up. Her mother was operating a pineapple stand nearby so we were concerned that she wasn’t going to get the medical attention she needed. With the size of the goose egg on her head, it could only mean a nasty concussion.


Other than that, all day we tried dodging literally hundreds of peddlers trying to sell us the same stuff, but we did interact with the locals a bit more and have warmed up to them. Once we told them we didn’t want their stuff, we were able to ask them a little more about their lives and culture. It was fun.

Ok, I am way too hot to think here. Tomorrow we catch a bus to Bangkok and part ways. So sad. Then a day in Tokyo for me and back to the cold. Hmph.

Such a Good Day

We caught the bus and the ride back to Phnom Penh was uneventful this time, thankfully.

Dismantling the bus, however, was eventful. There were so many tuk-tuk drivers and motorcycle taxi drivers clamouring for our business that they physically grabbed on to our arms and got in our face and were outrageously persistent. It was almost scary. Needless to say, we opted to walk. As a result, finding a guesthouse was challenging. This is when backpacking has it lows- when you’re toting around way too much cargo, and dragging a heavy briefcase to boot, trying to communicate with people that you are looking for a place to sleep. Of course, as we found some, they were full, others were trying to rip us off, and all we wanted was a place to crash.

But we found a hotel, after some frustration. We’re paying a little more than we’re used to ($5 each) but it’s much nicer than some of the places we’ve been holed up in.

Cambodia is tough at times. The poverty here is glaring, and the locals have no shame in begging, sending their children out in the heat to sell things, or worse, sending their children to beg. I always have a hard time in situations like these- I want to be giving, but I can’t possibly solve all of Cambodia’s problems by giving people money. Also, travel gurus such as Lonely Planet authors discourage giving begging children money, as it just rewards their parents for exploiting their children. Still, it’s sometimes uncomfortable walking around and getting so harassed. This is the first country I’ve encountered in Asia where the locals are so persistent with selling (they will enter a restaurant and ask you to buy things like books as you’re eating- I can’t possibly be weighed down with anything more!) and begging, and sometimes it's hard to resolve my role in society.

The other problem with this is that it generally cultivates a feeling of mistrust. I feel more guarded and suspicious and unsafe in general. Normally I enjoy fraternizing with the locals in whatever way we can given the language barriers, but here I find I’m automatically suspicious, and I hate feeling that way.

Anyway, on to better topics. Kevin and I had a great day today! Actually, on a sad note, poor Meaghan was bedridden all day- I guess it was her turn to catch the flu. Fortunately we are 2 nights in the same hotel (a rarity) so she had a bed to sleep in all day. Still, it’s not fun when you’re travelling and sick...

Anyway, Kevin and I rented a couple more Baja 250’s for the day! We wanted to go to the Killing Fields, and set off with a little map. It was only 15 km away and took us about 2 hours. We got lost. Trying to communicate where you want to go, an asking where you want to go, to locals who don’t speak English is almost impossible! Every time we pulled up to someone and talked, they would giggle and shake their heads and say, in rather perfect English, “I do not speak English.”

Once again I don’t think they locals are used to seeing white people tackle their crazy traffic, and especially a girl on a bike. The stares were unbelievable. At an intersection, surrounded by 50 bikes, all I saw were eyes staring. It’s unnerving! Kevin did comment that I stuck out like a sore thumb as I'm tall to begin with, and my bike seat was extra high as well. He said I was easy to spot a mile away, like a giraffe.

I know I’m probably going on too much about the traffic here, and I certainly don’t write about this to scare the parents back home. It just floors me every time. We realized today that the only way you could turn left on a busy street was to take a sharp left, so you are in the right lane, going AGAINST traffic. Then, as soon as you can, merge into the proper lane. Its nuts! We didn’t have helmets because they just don’t wear them here- the bike rental shops don't have them. I have to admit that when I handed my bike back in, both me and the machine intact, I heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe we’re crazy to drive in these streets, but it’s been a big part of my experience here.

We finally found the Killing Fields. The roads weren’t paved and it was a bumpy, dusty ride there. Some of the dust kicked up by passing cars was outrageous, and removed all visibility. We were completely filthy by the time we arrived! There were no signs marking directions to the monument either. We did find it, bumping along on our Bajas, having a blast, sweat pouring down our heads. It’s very hot here, but I would never dare complain.

The Killing Fields. Wow. The site that marks genocide where 18,000 people (between 1975-1978) were mass killed by the Communist regime Khmer Rouge. There was a temple full of skulls of the people who had died. It sounds gruesome, and it is, but it definitely makes you think a little more about the people that died. What were their personalities like? Occupations?


Other than the skulls, there were mostly signs explaining the genocide, as well as an aquarium of bones. Some of the signs marked mass graves, while others pointed to the clothing of children who had so cruelly been killed before their time, or a tree that held a loudspeaker to magnify the sounds of those being tortured.

The whole place was ironically peaceful in a way. I felt the expected emotions: sadness, disbelief, sickened... but perplexity was perhaps the most apparent feeling I had. How on earth could human beings treat each other like this? I just don’t get it. This, as well as the Vietnam war, happened within the last 30-40 years. It’s awful what humans are capable of!

After that sobering visit, Kevin and I went off-roading. Well, we call it off-roading, but really it was a small road that locals actually use to get from point A to point B. The road might as well have been cross country ski moguls, it was that bad. We had a blast, though! We found a deserted field (the terrain here is more like the desert then the jungles, so it’s quite flat) and just let out on the throttle, while the locals gathered around to watch. It was such a good day today. We spent hours on the bikes just baking in the heat, guiltily enjoying the feeling of the wind whipping through our hair, uninhibited by helmets.

Tomorrow morning we leave for the last leg of our journey- Siam Reap, home to Angkor Watt, a site so famous it was recently a contender for one of the 7 Wonders of the World...

On the Beach in Cambodia

I've been sleeping so much lately! I guess I'm getting a vacation from my vacation. But I do want to keep blogging, selfishly for my own recap of events when I'm old and gray, so this morning I typed up our tales of our trip to Cambodia.

The morning we were to leave Vietnam, I opened one eye and marvelled that I was awake before anyone else. Remembering that we had 7am bus tickets to Cambodia and therefore had set the alarm for 5:30am, I was perplexed that I was up before the dreadfully early alarm.

Wait a minute, I thought. There’s no way it’s earlier than 5:30. I checked my watch in a hurry and yelled in a panic, “guys, it’s after 6! The alarm didn’t go off.”

It was a mad dash in the room. Packing the backpacks takes time, and so does sharing a bathroom. Kevin determined that the hydro had gone out that night, causing the laptop to die, and therefore unable to fulfil its alarm clock duties. Power outages are somewhat typical around these parts, but normally they don't last long enough for laptop batteries to die.

But we made it with enough time to cram some “omelets to go” down our throats as we sat on the curb.

The bus was amazing. I mean, for $12 for a 6 hour ride, we expected it to be typical Asia- old, tattered, and rickety. Not so. It was really nice, and we even had our own stewardess who handed out water and snacks!

We breezed through customs and the VISA application process, which was a treat considering that it took us hours to get through Laos customs, and well, you know the trouble we had in Vietnam. This was so seamless, and before we knew it, we were in Cambodia. It’s like Laos- certainly not as developed as Vietnam.

We decided once we got to Phnom Penh (the capital city) that we were in need of some R&R. After all, we have been keeping a gruelling pace to see everything we want to in only a month. Enamoured with the bus company who had a bus leaving in just one hour for the coast, we decided it was time to hit the beach and subsequently purchased tickets for the 4 hour drive.

Kevin ran off to find an ATM to get some local currency. Getting money is easy in Asia- just stick your card in an ATM and voila! the local currency gets spit out of the machine. The banking service fees kill you for this privilege, but there’s not much alternative, and this way you don’t have to carry massive amounts of cash if you happen to get ripped off. They rarely take credit cards here- they like cold, hard cash, baby.

We told Kevin to be back at 2:15 as the bus left at 2:30. By 2:25 there was still no sign of Kevin, and we were getting worried. By 2:30 we were very anxious, especially as the bus was packed with people, ready to go. The bus company said, “Do not worry. We will wait for moment.”

2:40 the bus company had us hire a tuk-tuk to drive around the city and look for Kevin. Oddly, they didn’t want us to go with the tuk-tuk driver. I guess they just said, “look for some lost white guy.”

2:42 they asked if Meaghan and I would consider going by ourselves and he could take the bus the next morning. “Absolutely not,” we replied. “Can we change our tickets?” We asked. “No,” he said firmly.

2:45 they said they had to go. Our luggage had been shoved first in the bottom of the bus, so it was a bit of a gong show getting it back out. A lot of bags had to come out to get to ours. I didn’t miss the exasperation in the tones or faces of the bus workers. I wonder what they were saying in Cambodian. I did feel bad. I mean, we had a full bus of people we were holding up.

Sadly, the bus pulled away as Meaghan and I sat outside, surrounded with our backpacks, waiting for Kevin and an explanation, trying not to be too disappointed or annoyed.

I went in to change the tickets. The problem is that the change affected our return tickets, and additional tickets we had purchased to get to Siam Reap. I was changing them all, giving them the money they demanded for this, and looked out the window to see Kevin approaching.

The ticket office workers saw him as well; there was animated foreign gibber and they all got up excitedly, made cell phone calls and told me, “hurry, hurry!”

With speed that would make them a contender for the Olympics, they pulled up a van, shoved our stuff in, and said, “hurry! We catch the bus.”

And we did. This van zig zagged through traffic, Asia style, and delivered us to the bus that happened to be waiting on the side of the road for us when we got there. Yup, we had managed to hold up an entire bus of people for almost ½ hour. Talk about the walk of shame to the back of the bus as we took our seats.

Apparently some do-gooder offered to take Kevin to a bank machine, which wouldn’t spit out Cambodian currency, so he took him to another and another. Kevin told him he had to go to the bus station, and the driver took him to the ticketing station, which was the wrong one. The driver kept taking him to the wrong bus stations, and of course, it’s always hard to communicate in these countries.

It was a close call, but we made it.

When we got to Sihanoukville, our destination, we were assaulted by peddlers wanting to give us rides to hostels. I wasn’t in the mood for this at that point, but Meaghan worked out an agreement with one of them. He would take us around for a dollar to find a hostel that we were happy with.

“Ok,” I said, my back breaking from my pack. “Let’s do it.”

He led us to the taxi- which happened to be 3 scooters!

“Oh no, no, no,” I laughed. “This backpack is huge and weighs 40lbs, and I have this briefcase, which also weighs a lot and is pretty cumbersome.”

“No problem,” he said.

He pulled off my backpack and put it in front of him, in between him and the steering system. He was so short and it was so tall I am sure visibility was poor. He put the briefcase behind him and told me to get behind it. Well, I looked like an ostrich straddling that thing, my knees jutting way out into traffic. We teetered away, the others behind me on equally loaded scooters. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. As we got on the road, I felt the wind in my hair and remembered how much I love that feeling.

Kevin’s ride pulled up beside me. “Feel safe?”” He laughed. As soon as I saw him, I realized why the wind felt so good in my hair.

“They don’t wear helmets here, eh?” I said, as I looked at the seas of black heads with no helmets.

“Guess not,” He replied.

As we were driving along, me not having a lot of seat space due to the briefcase jammed between us, and him having the backpack right in front of him, we dodged and swerved other vehicles, Asia style. I was just thinking, “If only my poor mother saw us right now, she would have a heart attack...” when I heard a silly Asian song and realized with wide eyes what it was as my driver reached in his breast pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

“Allo?” He said, one hand to his ear, the other on the steering shaft.

He jibbered on in a foreign language. Kevin’s driver passed us again and Kevin just shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of the scene before him. I held my breath.

But we survived, once again.

They took us to a bar/restaurant/guesthouse directly on the beach. The restaurant was totally cool; big paupazon chairs littered the place and a sound system played some cool trancy music. The lighting cast a cozy ambience, and you could hear the waves of the ocean lapping the shore as there were no walls- just a roof for sun/rain coverage.

“Sold!” We said.

“Look at the room first,” the guy suggested (and we know better. but once in awhile get caught up in the moment and forget).

“I’d pay more for this place,” Meaghan said as Kevin went off to look at the room.

Kevin reported: “The good news is it’s only $4 per night for 3 of us. The bad news is, you get what you pay for. It’s pretty bad.”

But it had been a long day and we were tired. The room was pretty bad, but not worse than some of our accommodations, and the thought of staying on the ocean with such a cool restaurant to lounge around in was appealing, so we took it.

We lounged around in the paupazon chairs that night, eating fresh fruit and drinking tia mias, and listening to the ocean. We crashed early in our mosquito nets- I didn’t even survive an episode of The Office—and woke up 11 hours later.

Yesterday we didn’t do anything but laze around in the sun and eat and read and nap. At one point Meaghan and Dana and I got pedicures for $2.50 each. That evening we wandered down the coast and found a restaurant literally on the beach- they were grilling kebabs and the tables and chairs were jammed in the sand—and ate a delicious dinner.

We nursed our pink skin, crashed early again (so much sleeping here- I must have needed it!) and today we have another good half day on the beach, but due to time constraints, we have to catch the bus back to Phnom Penh this afternoon. It’s been an amazing couple of days. I love the sun and the beach!

The Tumultuous Part of Vietnam

I think most would agree that the Vietnam War put Vietnam on the map, sadly so. We've all seen the movies and heard the stories; after all, as far as wars go, it's one of the more recent ones. While Vietnam is not boasting these sordid tales, you simply cannot visit the country without paying due respects to the atrocities that happened here only decades ago.

We decided to visit The War Remnants Museum, formerly known as the Museum of Chinese and American War Crimes. The museum still has an accusatory feel, very unfavorable to Americans. Granted, they are far from innocent, but little is accused of their allies during that time, such as South Korea and Australia. Still, it was satisfactory to see some quotes from Robert McNamara, US Secretary of State at that time, basically repenting for the wrongs they did. But no amount of repenting can undo what was done.

The museum had American jets, choppers, and tanks outside, and mostly pictures inside. The pictures were horrific and uncensored: blown up bodies, crying children, heaps of dead people, and the most tragic: numerous images of victims of Agent Orange. As Meaghan said, "Some of these images will be with me for the rest of my life." They were gruesome and sobering. War is terrible and yet we still resort to it. There were mock chambers of the conditions of the concentration camps and guillotines, and newspaper and magazine covers of media coverage during that time. It was very educational and yet harrowing. Totally uncensored, it was not something you would learn in history class.


On to better topics. We got carted around Ho Chi Minh City in a bicycle contraption, ate at a cool restaurant, drank fresh coconut milk from the shells, and ironically bumped into some South African friends we had met in Halong Bay and hung out with them for a bit.

Now we're in Cambodia, after yet another slightly eventful travel story, but I'll save that for tomorrow. I'm getting eaten alive by mosquitos and I need to deal with them...