After a quick boat across the Mekong River from Thailand to Laos (and our first of many baguette sandwiches – a culinary staple left from the days of French rule), we had another much longer boat ride ahead of us – from the border town of Huay Xai to the French colonial city of Luang Prabang. Until very recently, the only way to travel between these two cities was by boat. However, there is now a new highway connecting the two places providing a faster (10 hour overnight bus ride vs. a 2-day boat ride) and more financially intriguing option. But though the highway certainly has some factors in its favor, the boat ride is a helluva lot more fun.

River-cruising slow boats

So that is how we found ourselves on the “slow boat” with 68 other travelers and 5 locals heading down the Mekong, the largest un-dammed river in the world. There is indeed a “fast boat” alternative, but people are regularly killed on these dangerous journeys. One must wear a helmet while the driver dodges rocks, rapids, and whirlpools, and they are so incredibly fast and dangerous that the guidebooks strongly advise against them due to the frequency of accidents. Ummm…no thanks.

One of the five locals on our boat

We looked something like this as we cruised down the river

As the slow boat is no longer the fastest or least expensive option, the appeal is the experience itself. The two-day boat ride with an overnight stop in the remote village of Pak Beng was quite a treat. It is pretty fantastic to be cruising along one of the world’s most famous and mighty rivers with nothing to do that day but appreciate the scenery. On the boat, we cruised through dense, lush, green forest, witnessing fantastic unique-shaped mountains, temples built into sheer rock walls, remote villages inaccessible by road, and even elephants coming down to the river to drink! It was a great way to get introduced to the landscapes and the pace of life in Laos.

Mekong River vistas

Wicked cool mountains along the Mekong

Cruising the river

Though this may all sound idyllic and serene, what I have yet to mention is that the average age of our fellow boat riders was approximately 23, and having two days to cruise down a river is an excellent opportunity to drink a lot of BeerLao. So as you can imagine, the slow boat became a bit of a booze cruise as the day went on. The good news is that we both like to drink beers too and the great part is that we met incredibly fun people from all over the world that we proceeded to run into throughout the rest of our time in Laos. Even if we didn’t say a word to one another on the boat, recognition of being on the same vessel was grounds for striking up a conversation when we crossed paths 2 weeks later!

68 of our new best friends

Partying with our new friends

When we rolled into Luang Prabang late in the afternoon on our second day of cruising, we felt like seasoned riverboat travelers. The slow boat was certainly an experience – definitely not a cultural one nor necessarily one we’d need to do again – but ultimately a great time.

Growing trekking beards is a must when you’re on the trail, but when you get back to town, there are many barber shops ready to help you clean up. Dave and I couldn’t pass up the $2 shave (including post-shave massage!).

Pre-shave

Mid-shave

Post-shave face massage

Across the lake and up the hill from Pokhara’s Lakeside neighborhood (where we stayed), lies the Peace Pagoda.  We spent one hot morning hiking up and enjoying the views.

Phewa Tal Lake

Ride across Phewa Tal

World Peace Pagoda

World Peace Pagoda

It was a very hot day...

Gorgeous views

Some nice locals we met on the way back

While we had phenomenal weather on the trek, apparently it rained every afternoon in Pokhara. Upon returning, we witnessed the torrential downpour that fell at about 3:30 every afternoon. No big deal for us – we were busy eating and drinking our way through town. Hard rains just meant more beers!

pre-monsoon rains

Caught in the rain

We got caught too, here at a waterfall on the far side of town

We intended to leave Pokhara 2 days earlier than we did. But, somebody (well, probably a lot of somebodies) in Nepal was angry, and strikes were organized. Nepali strikes focus on freezing transportation, road blocks are put up, and cars that drive on strike days are likely to get stoned. Being stuck in Pokhara for a couple extra days ain’t all that bad though! We took the opportunity to rent some bikes, ride around the lake, and explore some of the neighboring communities.

Cruising the shores of Phewa Tal

We picked up a couple hitchhikers along the way

Bike riding on strike day

Potentially the best thing about Pokhara’s overly-developed tourism ghetto is the extensive options of delicious food. The best and cheapest pizza on the trip – Pokhara Pizza: $2. Our favorite local food (well, kinda local, the recipes were brought over by the exiled Tibetans) was undoubtedly momos – steamed or fried dumplings stuffed with veggies, potatoes, or meat. We ate lots of momos on the trek, but we really embraced these dumplings during MoMo Fest 2011, a tour of all the local momo shops in Pokhara. Read Jesse and Dave’s hilarious account of our momo progressive party here.

Pokhara pizza - best $2 we spent on the trip!

MoMo Fest 2011 begins!!

MoMo Fest 2011 continues!

Needless to say, Pokhara was good to us, and I’m certain that we’ll be back someday.

The hike down to Jomsom

Very different, but equally stunning landscapes on this side of Thorong La Pass

Tiered irrgation in the desert

Vegetables on our pasta - what a novel concept!

For some reason, the guesthouse had an Ohio State t-shirt up. Charles was non-too-pleased

Seems like a pretty easy choice, huh? Unfortunately, when your traveling for a year dropping $180 for a 20-minute activity does not fit in the budget. And so it happened that our friends visiting from the States who were time-short and money-long opted for the plane flight while we and our fellow round-the-world trippers made the trip overland. As a reward for our misery, the village we stopped at overnight had hot springs that we happily soaked in and wicked views of an incredibly unreal peak.

Setting off on our bus journey

We wave goodbye to the flyers, and their new friend

Our bus ride back was rather spacious

Jealous

But we got to do this

And see this!

So take that Charles and Kate! Or rather, we just wish you would have taken us with you.

Really? You're putting a road in there?!?

So after all my bitching about said road, we took full advantage of it to access what would be our trailhead. After a bus ride in excruciatingly small seats, we arrived in Besi Sahar. Some people start hiking from here, but our guide (and soon to be best friend) Shiba recommended we go a little bit further by Jeep. So that is how the six of us, Shiba, our three porters, and half a dozen other locals found themselves crammed into a Jeep that shouldn’t hold more than 10. It was half hilarious-half miserable. The ‘new’ road that we drove on was the bumpiest, dustiest, never-been-grated dirt road that we have driven on, which made our trip that much more exciting/uncomfortable.

Bus from Pokhara to Besi Sahar

We soon came to realize that this bus was actually empty by Nepali standards

The Jeep seemed like a welcomed escape from the crowded bus

Until we realized that 16 people would be riding within, with a few extras on the roof

When we finally arrived at our destination, we were anxious and ready to get some walking in that day. A couple hours later and the discomfort and chaos of the transportation-filled morning was behind us. We were officially on the circuit and amongst the Himalayan mountains – life was good and getting better by the step.

The first steps of the trek

Women Only Section!

Our first stop to Connaught Place, a conglomeration of shops, restaurants and travel agencies, was uneventful except for our first run-in with one of India’s notorious touts.  We were looking for India’s official office of tourism (a notoriously hard place to find), however, the seemingly helpful concerned citizen instead had us follow him around for several blocks with plans to take us into his friend’s cousin’s brother’s sketchy travel agency.  Needless to say, we figured it out rather quickly and had some steps to retrace.  Foiled!

Our next plan was to head to the train station to pre-book our onward tickets to our next stop in India.  The Old Delhi train station is such an overwhelming, dirty, confusing, loud place that they have an upstairs room of the station dedicated solely to helping foreigners buy actual train tickets to their desired destination for the correct price.  The guidebooks warn you, “Don’t believe anyone you meet in the station that tells you the office doesn’t exist, or that it has moved locations or that it has burned down”.  Apparently, there are enough fakes out there that have illegitimately separated tourists from their money that they had to create this office to begin with and then warn people to persevere to find it!  We did find it, but the line to meet with an agent was literally all the way around the room.  After over an hour of waiting, we found our desired trip was full and since we didn’t have a back-up plan lined up, we walked away having purchased nothing.  Foiled!

Our plan to take the lovely, beautiful metro to our next stop was also unsuccessful.  The metro stop below the train station is probably the busiest one in the whole city.  The line to buy tickets, plus the line to get through security (yes, they have separate male and female lines for body pat-downs and an X-ray machine!) were both over 100 people long.  After extensive waiting in the train office, we did NOT want to wait again (in hindsight, waiting would have been the best move).  Foiled!

We decided to take an auto-rickshaw instead.  However, as we were at the train station where many people arrive and need rickshaws, and because we are white tourists, the price we were quoted was astronomical.  We asked 5 different drivers with no significant budge in the price.  How about using the meter?  Absolutely not!  Foiled!

We opted for a cycle-rickshaw instead, as Old Delhi was not too far away.  This was moderately successful though it involved a very skinny and rather old man using all his might to move his bicycle and our large, American bodies through the most insanely unproductive, inconsiderate traffic that we’ve ever experienced.  Trucks, buses, cars, auto-rickshaws, bicycle-rickshaws, mopeds, children, cripples, cows, and chickens are all going whichever way they want to go with little to no regard to any other moving object in their way.  It’s chaos and total gridlock.  What should have taken 5-10 minutes took well over a half hour.  Semi-foiled!

Old Delhi - crazier than it looks here

Cycle Rickshaws - when they're not full of people

We finally got close enough to our desired destinations that we opted to bail on the cycle-rickshaw (the traffic had clogged up again) and walk our buns the rest of the way.  Walking wasn’t much easier.  Sidewalks don’t quite exist and every step is a conscious thought that involves avoiding the street traffic and making sure you don’t walk into cow poo, a mysterious dark liquid, someone’s lap, or a man urinating.

These pictures really don't do justice to the chaos of Old Delhi

Old Delhi from above

We were hot, we were tired, we were hungry.  We ate, we relaxed, we attempted to gather up the energy to head back out and visit our planned tourist destinations.  However, we looked at our watch, saw it was late afternoon, realized the monuments would be closing and that Sasank would be home from work soon.  So after hours of attempting to get to where we were at that exact moment, we turned right around, found the nearest metro, and called it a day with little to show for ourselves.  Foiled indeed.

We returned home dirty, exhausted, and unaccomplished.  Old Delhi had shown us a little taste of the India we had in store for us ahead, and we now understood the previous warnings from other travelers.  India had gotten our attention that day, and it wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the trip.  This would not be the first nor the last day we would be foiled by India!

The beach where we were headed after a 2-day bus journey

After our rather pleasant first bus ride in Africa, we arrived in Maputo, Mozambique’s capital city. We were told that Maputo is one of Africa’s most attractive capitals, but sadly we did not experience what earned them that title – the place was pretty run down. We met some great folks there though – an international group of safari-guides-in-training. On holiday from their studies, the future rangers were headed to the same beach town we were, and we became fast friends.

After a rather cruisy and comfortable first bus ride, our second bus ride was all Africa. Leaving the hostel, the mid-sized shuttle bus appeared nearly full with over 12 tourists plus all of our bags, a surfboard, etc. However, the driver didn’t think we were anywhere close to full. We drove to the local transit stop where the driver proceeded to pack the bus full to the brim – more seats unfolded and appeared out of nowhere; women piled on with several children on their laps and unbelievably large bags of produce, grain and/or textiles; men who had maybe showered in the last week yelled in their mobile phones – it was a full house. Leg room was non-existent and personal space was completely absent. It was an incredibly long 8 hours and we were relieved to know that the light at the end of the tunnel was a spectacular beach.

Maputo "Bus Station" - where we loaded up beyond capactiy

Our bus being bombarded by fruit sellers at a pit stop

Our new ranger friends. We thought this was the full bus. We were wrong...

Our flight from BA to Cape Town, on Malaysian Airlines, was a surprisingly short 7 hours. And Malaysian Airlines – top notch service and plane.

We had one quick afternoon and night in Cape Town before heading up north to Zambia and Botswana. After some much needed napping, we explored the lovely – though extremely touristy – V&A waterfront. We were treated to some Christmas-themed live music being performed in a band shell near the water and we enjoyed it while eating our first (of many) meals of fish and chips.

Holiday cheer at the Cape Town Waterfront

Santa, made from Coke crates at the waterfront

Cape Town Waterfront

The next day we headed back to the airport and flew via Johannesburg (stop #1 of 10 in this airport) up to Livingstone, Zambia (yes, named after David Livingstone the famous British explorer). Driving from the airport to our hostel was definitely a glimpse into the Africa you might imagine – mommas with babies tied around their backs, women carrying unbelievably large loads balanced effortlessly on their heads, men trying to sell you anything from sunglasses to cell phone SIM cards, barefoot children playing on the side of the road, vans exploding beyond the brim with passengers, and trash along the side of the road.

Zambian kids

Traditional village home

We arrived at our hostel and were welcomed into a little oasis. You would never guess from the street that this place would provide such clean, comfortable rooms and come with fabulous perks such as wireless internet and a fabulous swimming pool.

Great first hostel in Africa!

By the time we arrived, we were pooped. In the previous 7 days we had slept in 7 different places with 3 of those nights spent “sleeping” on public transportation (2 on a bus, 1 on a plane). We were happy to have arrived safe and sound and looked forward to seeing more of Zambia when we had our heads on straight.

Iguazu Falls

Ted getting soaked

From BA it is a 19+ hour bus ride to the falls. We left the city on a Sunday afternoon and arrived in Iguazu just before noon on Monday. We dropped our stuff off at the hostel and caught the transport to the falls. When we arrived around 2:00 pm we had the place nearly to ourselves. The weather wasn’t ideal but the falls were absolutely fantastic. Breathtaking, awe-inspiring, thunderous, etc. I could not believe how massive they are – they appear to go on as far as the eye can see. The boardwalk and pathways throughout the park are extensive and they even have a little train that you can hop on and off to get to various destinations throughout the park.

Lower Falls

Thunderous

Our favorite spot was a section of the falls called the Devil’s Throat. You have to walk on the boardwalk over the river for about a mile to get to the very top of the falls where the river drops over the edge. The power of the water is incredible and mesmerizing. We stood there watching the water moving until the very end of the day when the park staff came to tell us the last train back to entrance was leaving.

Devils Throat

Devils Throat boardwalk

Since we had a short day the first day, we decided to go back to the park the next day as well. The weather was absolutely perfect and we essentially retook all the same pictures but this time with blue skies and sunshine in the shots. We also took a hilarious jet boat ride that takes you right up next to the falls and gets you totally soaked. It is quite a thrill to be right at the bottom of the falls and be surrounded by the thunder and the mist.

View from the boat, about to get totally soaked...

Overall, Iguazu did not disappoint. I had never seen such impressive waterfalls before and I’m not sure if there are any out there that can compare. After our second day at the falls, we caught another 19+ hour bus ride back to BA and had one more afternoon in the city and South America before we had to get to the airport to catch our flight to Cape Town!

In Argentina, we were efficiently welcomed into the country by a couple of well-dressed, well-coifed mate-drinking border guards and then we walked to the bus station to continue the rest of our journey. This international transition is not too different from the US-Mexico border. The first bus we got on in Argentina (and all the ones since) have been double-decker, air-conditioned slices of heaven with large, plush seats that recline and have leg rests. The buses also show movies and there is an attendant on board that does everything from collecting your ticket to serving you food on the long-haul journeys! Needless to say, the contrast between the rickety old bus in Bolivia and the fanciest bus we had ever been on in Argentina was significant.

As we jetted down the paved, 4-lane divided highway and started to see billboards instead of trash on the side of the road, we reminded ourselves that this transportation upgrade was not without its costs. Literally! The fancy bus trip in Argentina was at least 10x more expensive than what we were paying in Bolivia and it was a foreshadowing of the money that would bleed from our wallets in this lovely, but relatively expensive country.