Spring Break Okinawa!

After a little airport excitement (lots of running) in Tokyo, we had a spacious relaxing flight. Okinawa welcomed us with soggy arms. The city Naha has a nice monorail that gave us a dry view of the wet city, while bringing us to the hotel.

The hotel was near the main drag, and so we hit it up the first night. The street has the restaurants of local fare as well as American inspired. Gift shops pouring onto the sidewalk, mostly selling the same wears as the next shop. Okinawa does have some colorful items to shop through. They are quite proud of the regional sake, awamori. It is a stronger batch, and if you pay enough, it comes with a snake inside. I tried it, tastes like sake to me, not impressed.

The next morning we strolled down to the docks with all our gear on our backs. We did not stroll fast enough, as all the ferries were gone for the day. Our hopes of going out to another island were momentarily dashed. Plans were altered, and we bussed up to the northern end of the main island. There are some closer islands up there.

In our new area we found the docks just as they were closing. No ferries this day. We did however make it to a small island connected by a bridge. Once on the island, a fellow working a roadside food stand told us which beach permitted camping. The beach right under the overpass, okay. The night was the first trial of a new tent bought specially for Okinawan beach camping. The rain came out heavy, but did not come in. We thought we parked it safe, but morning light showed that the tide had come up to lick the tent.

The next day we headed back south. We stopped in Nago for awhile and got a tour of the Orion Beer Brewery. There was also plans for seeing a pineapple themed amusement park/winery, but doing so would require missing the last highway bus. I really wanted to ride the pineapple carts.

Back in Naha, we played it safe, and stayed in a hostel near the docks. The next morning we were then able to catch a ferry out to Kume-Jima. A four hour boat ride to the furthest of Okinawa's first island set. There are three sets. We both managed to keep our food where it belongs on the ocean ride. Not all passengers displayed such fortitude.

Once arrived, there was confusion as to which bus was ours, or whether we even had a bus. The lady behind the counter grabbed her keys and gave us a lift to our beach destination a few miles away. Lovely. Our literature spoke well of this beach that was off the beaten path. Tide was out, and we could have walked a ways out. Everywhere were mounds of rocks and seaweed. If your passion is collecting shells and coral pieces, this is your beach.

The kind dock lady was s quick to give us a ride, we did not even have time to evaluate our resources. Once we decided to find dinner, it became evident how removed our location was. Taking a good sized walk, we were able to find some snacky basics between a small store and an airport giftshop. The walk did showcase some nice farmland.

After filling up on our snack meal, we wandered into the building 20 feet to the right of our tent. It was a small shop/bathroom/hangout to oversee the beach. This night it had an older lady on duty and two guys hanging out, one old, one younger. She was watching a documentary on TV about Okinawa, and they were playing a local stringed instrument and singing traditional songs. If they sang too loud, she turned up the volume on her show. The trio welcomed the presence of Lindsay and I. The lady gave us bizarre little snacks long after we were filled, and the guys bought us some beers.

I came across this cryptic message on the beach.

The morning's goal was to catch a bus to the other side of the island for the primary beach and a higher traffic area. Walking back to the little store, we found the bus stop. It listed a bus once an hour, most hours. The bus time came and went. We saw nothing. A guy across the street came out of his house and asked what we were doing. He gave us a ride to the other beach in his car decorated with Lilo & Stitch items. It seems that here, spring break does not correspond with tourist season. Except for wandering locals, the sand was empty. A non-camping beach, we had to walk a couple miles to a health spa/campground that rented us some grass in their backyard. Down on the shore, some ladies were harvesting the green stuff off of the rocks. We saw this a few times.

Sadly, we never swam. But we did get our feet wet. We walked the couple miles back into town and were able to get a warm meal, Mexican. A welcome change to the convenience store camp food. With plenty of doubt, we were actually able to catch a bus back to the docks the next day. The ferry seemed a little quicker the way back, and we got a semi-Japanese style hotel in our original neighborhood close to the monorail.

The trip was three nights camping on/near beaches, two hotels, and one hostel. We never stayed in the same place twice, and much of the time we spent walking with all our gear on our backs. Much time was lost moving from one area to another, as it seemed we were always in transit. Camping was our goal, but hotels were needed when we were trying to get from one place to the next. The trip was great, but far from a relaxing day at the beach.

There and back we rode in a Pokemon plane. Japan!





I am growing familiar with the train rides back from the Tokyo airport.

Thai'd up

We woke and packed ourselves out of the Chinatown guesthouse, walked to the nearest dock, and caught the river taxi north to our next neighborhood. After settling in on Khao San, we went up to the roof to relax by the pool.

We spent a fair amount of time walking up and down Khao San, the parallel streets, and winding passages that connect them. It was your one stop tourist shop. Everything you could want as Thailand memorabilia was sold there. And while the vendors probably saw a healthy mark-up, the prices were still reasonable. Certainly the best collection of tshirts I have seen anywhere. For all of its commercial activity, the street was still great. All the food was cheap and delicious. The merchants were locals. The community was quite international.

The next morning was our last. We checked out and headed for some more sights. First stop was the Golden Mount, a giant artificial hill with a golden bell-like object on top. It was too giant for my small camera to handle, so please enjoy this photo of some small bells, also found atop the Golden Mount.


The next stop was Wat Suthat, a meticulously neat and ornate temple. The hot Bangkok sun was bouncing off of everything including the shiny tiles on the ground. On occasion a monk would pop out, going about his business. Us tourist folk were free to wander the lovely grounds and snap our photos.



Inside a large central building sat a substantial bronze Buddha. To his front a monk was leading a small service for a group of worshipers and/or tourists. To take a close look at the tall dark walls, I could see an unending spread of story telling pictures.

The sun had peaked and was starting its descent. We started our lengthy walk back toward the hostel, where our bags were kept. This stretch offered a better look of some everyday Bangkok life. Construction workers, laundry hangers, and a fresh market buried along the riverbank.

Slowly walking through the market to eat all the curries, fish, and vegetables with my eyes. Here and there the setting sun would find a hole in the tarps and junk piles, illuminating an otherwise hidden pocket of color. The whole tent was ready to burst with radiance, but the locals managed to keep some order by hiding their market in tarps, and repressing the dangerous colors.





We quickened our walk by cutting over to the river and taxiing up a few stops. The move was further improved upon by catching the sunset from the riverbank. The sun did its thing, and went away. We ate a last meal on the tourist drag, and used up the remainder of our baht on a few end of trip purchases. Bags on back, we wandered the street until shuttling to the airport for a 2am flight home.



Thailand is the best place yet.

Thai two

Despite the “help” of the friendly stranger, we were able to arrive at our first site on foot. Wat Pho is the home of the world’s largest reclining Buddha. The great gold being is kept inside, and there it is behind many columns, making it difficult to behold in its entirety. With the exceptions of feet and face, the Buddha was quite plain, and impressive in size only.

More exciting, was the playground outside. Well, not a playground, but it had me running around every corner. We were in an open-air fenced off complex full of ornate spires and engaging statues. The spires and their foundations were coated with colorful mosaic tiles. Each statue was a character full of personality.

I have seen a healthy handful of Japanese shrines, and I am far more excited by what Thailand offers up. In color, detail, and imperfection, Thailand dominates. Yes, even imperfection. There is something quite honest about the cracks and missing tiles. Walking through the historic shrine, I felt as though I was… well, walking through an historic shrine. Not to beat-up on Japan, but they are so neat about everything. The result feels like plastic, or Disney Land.

Our next stop was the Grand Palace. It was a quick stop. I was wearing shorts, and did not feel like renting the necessary pants to enter. We moved on to find another site, with lower standards for its visitors. A quick ferry across the river landed us at Wat Arun. Right on the river bank and a recognizable Bangkok image. The structure was a huge spire/tower surrounded by smaller, closely related versions of itself. It was accessible by a couple stages of steps, and a third roped off section. I felt no loss of the roped off section, the first two stages were literally climbing the stairs.

It was another ornate structure, superb in detail. The height granted a fine view of the river, an eaves-dropping look of surrounding neighborhoods, and a postcard shot of the modern skyline hazy horizon. I am sure what purpose they set out for with this shrine, but I am sure they accomplished it.



Back over the river, we continued our way north to arrive at Khao San Road. This is the traveler spot. The whole area is outfitted for tourists, but this street in particular is the backpacker/spring breaker mecca. The street is laid out wide, but populated thick. A constant flow of travelers coming and going with bags, eating international street cart cuisine, drinking cheap domestics, shopping for friends, and shopping for self. And for every tourist, of which there were many, there was also a local, selling something.

Some streets have a hum, the buzz of life happening all around. Khao San has something more. Khao San has a roar. Stepping onto the street is stepping into a stadium. Inside, everyone is part of the spectacle. There was plenty to see, and we were not about to see it all, so we stepped into a hostel and booked the next night.

It was dark, and we were a few neighborhoods away from our current dwelling, so we started walking. After a day on our feet, an epic stretch of backtracking was not ideal. We did manage to cover some familiar area in new light, or… dark. A big central park became a market for random items. The shrines glowed with their night lights, and then at 10pm they disappeared. We walked through the flower market, easily the most colorful sight yet. Fruits, vegetables, and flowers by the bag load. At this point my camera battery decided to run down.

We hit our Chinatown, walked the length of it, and found our guesthouse. Sleep was perfect.

Going out for Thai.

We returned form our Winter Weekend in Hokkaido on Monday night. Tuesday morning I went to school for a regular work day. I came home and repacked my bag. Heavy clothes out, light clothes in. Without managing a wink of sleep, we left the apartment at 2am, and caught a 2:19 train, the first of a few to Tokyo/Narita Airport. A 9am flight on Air China brought us to Beijing. While Lindsay savored her layover in a new country's airport, I played it cool. I knew that scene. After a couple hours we were on a new plane headed to Bangkok.

Arrived at 6pm, and it was hot. We chose the cool season, but that is really only the slightly-less-hot season. Out front, armed with internet research and guidebook savvy, we approached an official taxi booth. The signage of the booth notified any tourists that these particular taxis were legit, would use their meters, and would not pull any scams. The driver took us to our location, though he did insist to have known a better/cheaper place, and he did take a couple extra laps around our neighborhood to settle at the right place.


We stayed in a colorful, out of the way guesthouse on the south end of Chinatown that we had booked last minute. Much of the trip was actually last minute. I generally cannot get time off from school, but saw an opportunity of a Wednesday holiday followed by tests on Thursday and Friday. I am of no help for tests, and Lindsay is proactive is making travel plans, so a Bangkok we will go!


After dumping the bags and dressing appropriately, we set out to spend our little energy on exploring the neighborhood and finding dinner. Wednesday night, and the street was where everyone should be. There were other tourists, but this was very much a spot for living, and so much for sight seeing. What we saw were colorful buildings and lights, cars speeding and braking, vendors with recognizable animal parts and mysterious fruits. At the end of one street, a group of people gathered around an old film reel projector to watch a movie projected on the side of a building.


Everywhere were people watching, walking, sitting, drinking, and shopping. I was ready to stop and be a part of everything that I saw but did not have the time. For as far as time was concerned, I had come on a budget.
After a couple sweeps of the main drag, we settled on a street corner populated by tables and chairs. The outdoor restaurant specialized in fresh seafood. I know this because I sat alongside the stockpile of crab & friends, on the rocks.


For our first meal we had a mix of sautéed greens and chili peppers. The rice was late in coming, so I did my best to cut the spice with my coconut milk drank from a coconut. The beverage was tasty, but did little to curb the delicious suffering of my meal.
I think Lindsay rather enjoyed documenting my ever-shinier complexion as I did not relent. ...He asked if I wanted spicy. I said yes, and would do so again.

In the morning we had fruit and coffee at the restaurant on top of our building. Then set out to get a better sense of our area. Each neighborhood seemed to have a niche, and Chinatown was scrap metal. Our immediate area especially looked like a chop shop. The sunlight showed what the moon had left alone. Streets full of cars, mostly dead. Some awaited surgery, while others served as impromptu garages. Neat stacks of engines and axels. Large saws taking things apart, and torches putting them back together. It was all so interesting, and yet I felt like a trespasser. I kept walking, and took minimal photos.

It was a working city. Shops kicking out smells, and people pushing carts, wheeling loads far bigger than themselves. After Chinatown, everything seemed a little bigger. We had a map and a mission, but found it quite difficult to deny the back alleys and side streets. Tight, canopied markets, where you had to be willing to rub hips with anyone to get anywhere. Fruits and fabrics transitioned to radios and remote controls. We emerged into the electronics neighborhood. Tents with tables of car stereos and racks of home receivers. Speakers larger than me, sitting on the sidewalk. And everywhere, tables of open circuitry being poked with soldering irons. Had my camera gone missing, this would have been my first place to look. Many items were probably hotter than the sun.


We avoided doing so, but on occasion it was necessary to pull our map out in public. I never like to be the obvious tourist, but maps are especially fatal in Bangkok. Taxis, tuk-tuks, and kind strangers are all aggressive. One kind fellow grabbed our map, told us where we were going was closed for ceremony, and we should go to this other place. He drew all over it (mostly useless information), and played tug-of-war with Lindsay while hailing a tuk-tuk for us. Lindsay recovered the map and we disengaged from the stranger and cab, determined to put the mileage on our sandals.

...As a side note, the tuk-tuks are cheap, common, abundant transportation for the locals. For tourists they can be more of an adventure, including: paying way too much, going to the wrong place, propositioned a jewel scheme, and arguing over agreed upon fare. We abstained from such excitement this time around.

-- Oh gosh, I am getting lengthy. I shall take a pause here, and post more shortly --