Australia

    The underwater world of the Great Barrier Reef

Our adventure is nearing its end and neither one of us knows how we feel about returning home. Ambivalent at best, I think. Except about being reunited with our washer and dryer. Those two we've missed terribly. And decent Mexican food but that we'll find in Sydney.

Though we have a few more days of adventure in Sydney, I thought I'd review our time in Australia.

    Darwin
We've visited Darwin, Cairns, Brisbane and tomorrow Sydney, a city we toured in 2014. After the brilliant silky colors, pedestrian and vehicle chaos, and deafening noise of South East Asia, Australia seems a little ordinary and familiar, more like Canada, our North American cousins than a completely different continent and culture. Of course, how could Australia compare to  the exotic, mysterious South East Asia.

    Ammunition bunker from WWII, Darwin

Darwin, located in the Northern Territory, was our first port. It is the gateway to Asia and as one of our guides said, the last stop for people wanting to escape from Australia. Darwin served as a military post during WWII for Australian and American ships and troops and because of its proximity to Asia, the Japanese bombed it 64 times. The city is filled with war memorials and museums and is tropical hot, like 95 degrees and 98% humidity hot.

    Aboriginal sculptures, Northern Territory

    
Happily, our next stop, an area just outside Cairns, the home of the Great Barrier Reef, was much cooler. Having been warned about the potential for rough seas, I wore a seasickness 
patch and was glad I did.
  

    

    Brilliant fish and colorful reef

Those passengers who pressed into service the "vomit bags" during the two hour boat ride 
probably wished they had "patched up" themselves.  I'm guessing the poor crew member 
who sadly found himself heaved upon by a sick passenger wished that, too. Isn't it smart 
to travel with seasickness meds?

Unfortunately, we made port in Brisbane on Easter Sunday so not much was open. A ship lecturer had discussed the Battle of Brisbane during WWII and we were eager to find a memorial or plaque or something about this event. This battle was actually between 
Australian and American troops who took to the streets of Brisbane for an alcohol fueled 
slug-fest over manly things like who got the prettiest local girls. We found nothing commemorating this colorful battle. Darn!

We moved on to visit General Macarthur's former headquarters, now a museum but Easter Sunday foiled us again! The place was closed so we settled for a pic of the plaque outside. 

The wonderful Gallery of Modern Art was open and gave us another opportunity to view 
Aboriginal and Indian Art.

Now it's on to beautiful Sydney.


Stay Calm. Travel when you can.

The Game of Desserts Part II

    Berries, they look good, don't they?

I thought the game ended. I had admitted defeat, waved my white dinner napkin in the air, stopped protesting dessert delivery. Game over, naïvely, that's what I thought.
But I was wrong.

We are on what is called a back-to-back cruise or consecutive cruises, so we stay on the ship for 30 days. But that means when guests from the first leg disembarked, new guests arrived. For the crew, the first couple of days of a new cruise are busy. This is good news for me.

On the busy embarkation day, only berries arrive for dessert. 
Me: May be he gave up or ran out of recipes.
R: May be he doesn't know you are on this leg.
Whatever the reason, the next night again only berries arrive for dessert.
Me: (Slightly giddy) It's over. He knows he won. (I relax. No more food fights).

Not so fast little white haired celiac lady, you don't know the rules of this game.

Two nights in a row, the chef slightly goofs up on my order, one night forgetting to add rice noodles to a stir fry and the next serving my pasta dry. I pay a price for his goofs.

SERVER: Let's see what the chef has made for you.
ME: (Meekly) Ok.
I'm presented with a little chocolate cake and a big bowl of berries, "I'm sorry for the
goofs" gifts.
The next night, a little vanilla cake arrives and two bowls of berries. I take one bite of the cake and eat as many berries as I can hold. I remind R that the next day I'm heading to the gym.

    Vanilla cake and double berries. Game back on.

SERVER: You don't like the cake?
ME: Not really.
SERVER: Some times they are good and sometimes not.
These guys are always optimistic.
Unable to simply watch this drama without joining in, the head server and the maitre de 
assume roles.
The head waiter starts monitoring my food consumption. That evening, I eat half my 
enormous salad.

WAITER: You don't like the salad?
ME: It's too big. Too much food. (Immediately, I know I've uttered the wrong words. He'll take what I've said as a challenge).
WAITER: Maybe tomorrow I make it smaller.
ME: Ok.
By now, I know that will not happen because I live in the world of opposites. The next night, my salad is larger than R's. My words are meaningless.
We are now three days at sea and apparently the maitre de, growing restless, needs a 
project.
That evening, bread arrives.

HIM: Try this. You haven't had any bread. I had the chef make this for you.

He presents me with four pieces of gluten free focaccia.
ME: Ok.
I force R to eat a piece and I eat part of another.
HIM: We'll have this for you every night. We'll just keep it in the back.
ME: (Forcefully) No. I don't want it.
HIM: Ok, just tell me the night before when you want it.

No one listens to me.
Dessert arrives. Something new with chocolate. I'm thinking when will this guy run out of 
recipes?

The head waiter takes my order for the next night, a salad and salmon.
WAITER: That's all.
ME: That's all.
WAITER: I saw yesterday at lunch what you ate, you don't eat enough.
ME: I eat plenty.
WAITER: No, not that much.
He tells R that tomorrow at lunch he wants to see us in his station. My thoughts turn paranoid. I wonder if the kitchen has a watch list, a kind of "America's Most Wanted" for
 those accused of under-eating on the cruise ship. My thoughts worsen, perhaps there is a surveillance camera? I'm being watched?
Honestly, even my parents never monitored my food intake this closely.
I rouse myself from my paranoid thoughts and on my way out of the dining room I chide the maitre de that they are trying to fatten me up. He laughs. Regrettably, I think they've 
succeeded.

Modern, Shiny Humid Singapore

    Singapore is a construction zone!

Just want to say, boy is Singapore in mid-March really hot. Like sticky-jungle-humid hot.

With that said --

It is not just the sounds, the whirl of bike motors, the incessant blare of bus and truck horns bellowing their warnings or the vibrant colors, swirls of magentas, gold, teal,
jades, or the pungent smells of foods sizzling in oil, exotic fruits warming in the sun or the constant motion, of people, of vehicles, frenetic, blurry, dusty.  It is all that and more that make Southeast Asia compelling. Old, traditional, slow moving bumping up against and mixing with modern and new. Water buffaloes and rice fields, rickshaws, zippy motor bikes and pedestrians dashing dangerously through oncoming traffic, golden Buddhas and burning incense, open markets bursting with cheap plastic goods, fragrant fruits, faces wrapped against a burning sun. Those are my observations about Bangkok, Vietnam, and Hong Kong.

    View of Garden by the Bay from Marine Bay Sands. These are solar panels and collect rain water.

    Singapore is Eco-green.

How do they contrast to Singapore?

Singapore is the shinier, more cosmopolitan, less gritty, better dressed Westernized Asian sibling to Vietnam and Bangkok. Densely populated, with every inch of real estate wisely (mostly) used, 
Singapore is a well planned, organized, safe, clean city with minimal crime and a government that enforces strict standards for behavior. It is also a religiously tolerant city/state. Children are taught tolerance for others from a young age. Hindu and Buddhist temples, Christian churches, and an Arab Mosque co-exist in this tiny country. 

    Inside the Chinese Buddhist Temple, Chinatown

The idea is that religious diversity is welcomed but pushy attempts at conversion are not. All this takes place in a city where modern architecture, like the Marina Bay Sands and the ArtScience building stand in contrast to older sections like Arab Town, Little India, and the hectic, colorful Chinatown.

    Outside the Hindu Temple, Little India

Some Singapore facts -- the city/state is about 275 square miles with a population of 5.5 million. As one lecturer explained, Singapore doesn't produce anything, other than people. Rather it imports goods from everywhere, improves the product and then exports it. The hard working harbor is teeming with cargo ships of all sizes, fully stacked with brightly colored containers traveling in and out of the port. Singapore also imports workers -- from India, the U.K., and other places near and far to fill specific jobs.

    The ArtScience Museum. Looks like something from a Bond movie.

One other noticeable difference, it is safe to cross the streets here. In Vietnam and Thailand we were told to walk slowly across the street in oncoming traffic so that the motor bikes and cars will slow down (we hoped they would slow down); in Singapore, a transit bus stopped for us when we entered the cross walk! Such politeness was unseen in Bangkok where the guide said cross walk markings are considered meaningless zebra stripes.

   The famous Marina Bay Sands Hotel and Shopping complex.

    This amazing structure houses Singapore's incredible botanic garden with its rain and cloud       forests.


Our original itinerary contained an overnight stop in Benoa, Bali. When both the Australian and UK governments issued credible travel warnings regarding potential terrorist threats in Bali, the cruise ship company cancelled the stop. So from Singapore, on to Darwin, Australia we go.

Travel can be wonderful. Travel can be risky. Plans change. Best to stay calm and carry on.

   Thousands of ships fill the harbor.

A Game (or Battle) of Desserts

    Dairy free rice Pudding -- that I did not order

Traveling as a celiac-veganish-pescatarian is challenging. Doable, with enough strategic thinking and pre-planning but still challenging.

Although I am on a cruise ship and eat in a specialty dining room that serves healthier food, I am engaged in a battle with the most wily of opponents -- a chef. I am losing this battle for I know not the rules of engagement or even how I entered the game.

I'll explain.

Our first night on the ship, I explained to the dining room manager, our waiter, and really anyone who would listen, my food restrictions -- no meat, fish only, no dairy, gluten free.
These lovely men with the most impeccable manners, listened carefully, nodded attentively, gave every indication they understood.
And I said, I prefer berries for dessert.

Little did I know I had issued a challenge. Unbeknownst to me a game began.

As expected, I explained my food restrictions the next evening, just to make sure we all understood. That evening, the assistant waiter said the chef had a surprise for me. Usually a "food surprise" equals I'm going feel really sick. I was hesitant.
Absolutely beaming with pride, our assistant waiter presented me with gluten-free berry pie. I started to doubt my sanity for I thought I requested berries.
R, a man who cannot bear to disappoint anyone, cheerfully said he would eat the pie. This I  learned too late was my first strategic mistake. Never eat what you did not order.

The next evening berries arrived as well as a kind of carmel gluten-free pie. All the wait staff smiled at me and I felt less and less sure of my sanity. What was going on, I wondered?

A banana-chocolate-something appeared with a bowl of berries the following evening and then the night after, a small gluten free chocolate cake appeared, minus the bowl of berries.

Quickly, I reviewed what I knew-- I ordered berries only for dessert, each night the chef prepared a different dessert, and now the berries had disappeared. I was being out-maneuvered by the man paid to feed me. I was desperate. I had to stop the chef and his out-of-control dessert making. I took the tiniest of bites from the cake and forbade R from eating the rest. I defiantly left the dessert in the middle of the table, a sugary little gauntlet. Game on.

A sad faced head waiter inquired about the dessert.

"You don't like it?" (Boy is that a slippery question).
"I ordered berries." (Excellent move on my part).
"But the chef made this for you." (Guilt. An excellent move on his part).
"I remember saying I'll just have berries for dessert. And I don't eat dairy."
"Oh, you didn't tell me about the dairy."

At this point, I'm fairly certain I am insane or I'm suffering from advancing memory problems.
"Ok, well I'll just have berries each night."
Dejected, he agrees.

Leaving the dining room, I feel less crazy and optimistically tell R that I think the dessert issue is settled. I feel successful.

With the dessert battle behind me, I turn my attention to a burgeoning new failure -- my inability to order food that pleases the dining room manager.
Because I am celiac and dairy free, they ask that I place my order for the next day before I leave dinner. This means that the manager knows what I'm ordering.

Manager: What you ordered for tonight, it is too simple. You should order something else.
Me: I ordered pasta with tomato sauce and basil.
Manager: I know. It's not right.
Geez. Clearly, I'm a failure when ordering food.
Somehow my ordering mojo returns when I pair a smoked salmon appetizer with grilled fish. For this move, I am praised.

Manager: I like what you ordered tonight. It goes well together.
I feel like I'm in third grade and just received a gold star on my spelling test.

On succeeding nights, I do an equally good job of ordering, he praises me, and moves on, perhaps feeling my training is complete.

If only the dessert wars resolved as easily.

The game continues. Some nights two orders of berries arrive and out of guilt, I eat both. Some nights R is allowed to order dessert and some nights he is denied a dessert menu since he is an unwitting accomplice in my drama. We are both confused.

    Another gluten free, dairy free dessert I did not order

And the desserts continue to arrive. I give up and stop protesting. These guys are pros. In defeat, I take to documenting the confection, capturing each vision by photograph. One night, what might best be described as the innards of apple pie minus the pie are served in an artful arrangement. The next night, a beautifully presented rice pudding. My slippery opponent is upping his game, defeating me with chocolate and sugar and who knows what else.
This guy is good. And I think he missed his calling. This kind of cunning might be wasted in the kitchen. He could be a military general or a US politician.

    And yet another. This guy is good!

Gift of Travel Part 2: From Hanoi to Danang to Saigon: Exploring Vietnam's Differences

    Almost everyone can afford a motorized bike in Hanoi. Pedestrians watch out!

Hanoi is North Vietnam, Danang is Central Vietnam, and Saigon is South. For although Vietnam is unified, each city has a different feel and a different place in the country's history. The differences continue for even narratives about Vietnam vary depending on who is speaking.  A guide from Hanoi offers a different take from a guide from Danang as does an expert lecturer or an experienced travel writer.

What they agree on is that Vietnam is a country that has a history of occupation. For a thousand years, Vietnam was part of China, for one hundred years, it was a French colony, for 20 years it was occupied by and at war with the US.  They all speak freely about the war with the US and the lasting impact of "chemicals" on the people as agent orange seeped into the ground water.

    Vietnam's first university, the Temple of Literature, a peaceful place in a busy, chaotic city.

 

They are less consistent when it comes to discussing communism. One guide lectures about communism and the virtues of Ho Chi Minh while another explains that Vietnam is communist in name only and has embraced China's model of capitalistic communism. To this communist country, foreign money has poured in, sparking a building boom, but poverty is everywhere. Luxury resorts built by foreign companies line the coast close to "China Beach" near Danang, with new resorts under construction. In Saigon, some high rise condos sell for $500,000 to $1 million US. However, with typical salaries around $100 to $200 a month, locals aren't buying these properties, leaving us wondering who is.

    High rises in Saigon and $1 million condos.

    Political signs in Saigon

    Chinese temple in Saigon.

   

    Water buffaloes and rice fields in central Vietnam.

    

    

    

    Business on the streets of the Old Quarter, Hanoi.

Probably the most important question is are we glad we visited Vietnam? We certainly are. It is a fast paced, welcoming, interesting country and we can't wait to compare it with Thailand and Singapore. Eating safely has been challenging during land tours but always easy on the ship. We travel with celiac cards in a variety of languages and our guides have been happy to hand the card off to chefs who can then figure out a celiac safe meal, like the lovely one pictured below.

Stay calm and keep traveling

    A beautiful gluten free rice noodle dish prepared for me at a Saigon hotel restaurant.

The Special Gift of Travel. Eyes Open to the World

    A favorite type of transport in Hanoi, the motorized cycle. There are thousands in the city.

Travel provides much to us such as new experiences, opportunities to learn, chance to step outside the everyday and if as traveler's we are really paying attention, it provides a means of regaining appreciation and gratitude for our own, probably privileged lives.

At least, that's what routinely happens to me and has been happening as we tour through some of Southeast Asia. What always strikes me is how differently many people live from those of us in North America.

First a couple of facts -- a somewhat typical apartment in densely, overpopulated Hong Kong is about 500 square feet and sells for about $780,000 American or $1 million Australian. This is not a starter home, for people begin with spaces 100 to 200 square feet smaller than that. At this price, the 500 square foot home calculates to about $1560 per square foot. That's pretty damn expensive. I left Hong Kong both with a renewed appreciation for space and a new renewed wondering as to why Americans need so much. 

In Hanoi, we observed that much of life is lived on the sidewalks and in the streets.

    

    Sidewalk shops in the Old Quarter of Hanoi.

    This brave woman sells fruit while competing for limited space with the motorized cycles.

    Working the rice paddy fields outside Hanoi. For many, a traditional life continues.

   Hanoi is a loud, chaotic, busy city but there are pockets of calm.

  

    

   The Temple of Confucius. A place of peace.

   

 As our group was waiting to board our bus, we were surrounded by vendors, aggressively offering for sale items ranging from postcards to greeting cards to hats and t-shirts.  One young woman did not  accept my "no" and started insistently thwacking my arm while chanting how much money she wanted me to hand over. Our little sidewalk drama ended when I annoyingly told her to stop hitting me.

All my observations left me wondering how Americans are viewed worldwide. I'm guessing the young Vietnamese vendor simply viewed me as a wealthy American since I could afford to travel to her country.

More to come.

Off We Go. Time to Move my Restless, Itchy Travel Feet

    Crowded, bustling Kowloon. Glad I wasn't driving.

Bed count -- since leaving Chicago March 2014, we've stayed in 103 beds. And yet, recently we have felt like we haven't traveled enough. 

Doesn't quite seem possible, right?

We'd been starving for a little adventure, or in this case, a pretty sizeable helping of adventure, as we set off on the marathon overseas flight. Can you say Hong Kong? Vietnam? Bangkok? Singapore? Bali? East coast side of Australia? What a great itinerary.

Almost five months have passed since our last Big Adventure, a walking tour in Peru with visits to Machu Picchu and other Peruvian sites. While in November, we enjoyed a quick trek to Seattle to celebrate 35 years of marriage, mostly we've hung around our little town, indulging in its simple pleasures of hanging out with friends and family, making new friends, snowshoeing, XC skiing, wine drinking, music listening, and snow clearing. Ok, that last one is not quite a pleasure, more a necessity of winter life.

For a woman who's rallying cry has been, "Make the first years (of retirement) an adventure," I've been feeling a little confined, tied down and restless. 

Time to get moving and Hong Kong is just the place to start.

Today's adventure was dim sum at the swanky Shang Palace. All reviews of Hong Kong dim sum suggested it is a no go for those with celiac because of hidden gluten, especially in sauces and the use of wheat as a filler in almost everything. But the Shang Palace, a beautiful restaurant in the Shangri-La Hotel, worked with me to figure out items I could eat while R ordered fun items from the regular dim sum menu. When traveling, I have found that if I say, "I'm celiac or gluten free, will you help me order," I usually receive really good assistance and service. 

Our delicious food was beautifully presented by attentive wait staff. What a great way to kick-start an adventure.

    Dim sum at Shang Palace.

    Beautiful and gluten free!

Prior to dim sum, we took a tour of crowded, bustling, building crane filled Kowloon.

My feet are just warming up