The End?

I’m writing this on the last day of my trip as I speed towards Tokyo on the Shinkansen, which is perhaps my favorite train in the world. I’ve spent the better part of the last 300 days traveling from Sydney to Tokyo, a total of ten countries and dozens of cities, posting more than 100 blog entries and 3,000 photographs. That I'm going home hasn’t completely sunk in. I’ve been taking this trip one day, one week, one city at a time, and the end has crept up on me. So it is with mixed feelings that I return to Tokyo, where I’ll spend one more night before boarding a trans-Pacific flight (my least favorite form of travel) back to the U.S. of A.

I’m excited to return to familiar territory, where I speak the language and I am well versed in the customs. I’m looking forward to seeing family and friends, to eat my mother’s cooking and watch late-night cable television. But I’ll miss the freedom of the open road, the expected pleasures and unexpected impediments that make for open-ended travel. I’ve got an itch (no, not that kind of itch), formed early in life, that leaves me restless. It will lead to more travel in the future. For now, it's time to reflect on 2007 and look to 2008.

As a final installment of Packmonkey: Asia (leaving the door open to Packmonkey: North America and Packmonkey: Europe), I offer a short summary of the good, the bad and the in-between. This is hardly a recap of my entire ten months on the road, merely a short trip down memory lane. I plan to offer a little more reminiscing once I'm back in Los Angeles.


Everything Australian: I spent nine weeks in Australia in February and March, traveling overland along the southern and western coasts from Sydney to Broome, then into the Outback on a 4WD trek from Adelaide to Alice Springs. Australia is a beautiful country. The interior is desolate, stark and remote, the coasts rugged and wild. As a whole, it is a challenging, rewarding and breathtaking place to travel. I will never forget sleeping under the stars in the Painted Desert or swimming in sea lions in the Eyre Peninsula. I also made some lasting friendships in Oz: Bernie and Kate, Dean, Elizabeth – keep in touch! Australia raised the bar for all subsequent destinations. The time I spent in Australia amounted to the trip of a lifetime. Had I returned home after the Outback, I would have been satisfied.

Monkeys and Mountains in Malaysian Borneo: I arrived in Malaysia with low expectations. I left in love with the country. The Malaysian people were some of the friendliest I encountered - always a smile for the wandering Jew in their midst - and the food unexpectedly satisfying. The three weeks I spent in Malaysian Borneo sealed the deal: encounters with the orangutans, proboscis and langur monkeys, Uncle Tan’s jungle camp and the trek to the summit of Mt. Kinabalu, which left me exhausted but marked two of the best days of the whole year.

Backpackers’ Laos: Backpackers flock to Southeast Asia, so it’s no surprise that there’s a backpacking culture in this part of the world. My time in Laos, from my arrival at the border with Thailand to my departure from Vientiane, was the ultimate backpacker’s experience. The country itself is wonderful, remote and rural, yet unspoiled by the tourism you encounter in Thailand and Vietnam or the tragic history of Cambodia. Laos had been described to me as Thailand of 20 or 30 years ago. Ten short days in country showed me the Southeast Asia I dreamed of visiting.

What made my time in Laos really special was the friendships I made. Two days floating down the Mekong solidified a bond with my French amis, Guillaume and Emmanuelle. We spent the evenings in Luang Prebang at a sidewalk bar laughing over glasses of cloudy pastis, the days meeting the young monks at the city’s temples or swimming at the tranquil waterfalls outside of town. In Vang Vieng I met Mitzi and her daughter, Miksa, from Hawaii. We explored caves and rented bicycles for a trip to the local market. At night we relaxed over cheap food and beer at the backpacker cafes. Miksa and I even found time for a marathon afternoon watching "The Simpsons." Traveling friendships are short and intense, and one of the joys of travel.

Food, Food, Food: Who doesn’t love to eat? Everywhere I traveled there was something new to taste: kangaroo sausages in Outback Australia, blue rice in Malayasia, chicken rice in Singapore, khao soy in Northern Thailand, even deep-fried tarantulas in Cambodia. There were also some old favorites to devour: sushi and ramen in Toyko, curry and pad thai in Thailand. Somehow, I still haven't tried durian.

Indonesia Headaches: I arrived in Indonesia with high hopes. Two weeks later I couldn’t leave get out the country fast enough. From the touts and taxi drivers oozing desperation in Bali to the scam artists in Java who took me for a ride, I was overwhelmed by the amount of ill-will I felt in Indonesia. I’ve heard reports from other travelers about good times in Bali and Java, so I will not say the country is filled with bad people and bad times. At least I left with two good memories: sunrise at Mr. Bromo and an afternoon spent wandering the ancient Buddhist temple at Borobudur. These two places almost make up for all the aggravation I experienced everywhere else in Indonesia.

Tourism in Thailand and Vietnam: Thailand and Vietnam are two of the most popular destinations in Southeast Asia. They were also, for me, two of the most disappointing destinations on my trip. In the island of Southern Thailand, I encountered hoards of westerners traveling from one beach to another. It seemed that the locals in sight were either serving the foreigners beer and food or cleaning their rooms. There was also the terror of the night of the flying termites. The beaches are nice enough, but crowded and dirty. Were it not for the energy of Bangkok or the charm of Chiang Mai, I’d have to write off Thailand as a loss.

In Vietnam, the tourism treadmill also operates at full speed. Perhaps it was because I’d been on the road for six months, or perhaps it was because I was exhausted from a whirlwind tour of Cambodia. Whatever it was, I found Vietnam to be hectic in all the wrong ways. From the overcrowded and polluted streets of Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi, where even the act of crossing the street was hazardous, to the constant haggling over prices, Vietnam was a downer.

Life and Death in Cambodia: I only spent 10 days in Cambodia, but those days contained some of the best and worst times of my trip. On the positive side was an extraordinary tour that took me into the Cambodian countryside and introduced me to the real Cambodia of today. The tour also resulted in a few of those backpackers’ friendships that I mentioned earlier. I loved drinking late into the night at a small bar in Kampong Cham and on the beach at Sihanoukville with Sally and Renee, nurses from Adelaide, Australia. And Kathe, a university student from Holland, turned into a close and unexpected friend.

On the down side was a bus accident that left two Cambodians dead and exposed the utter corruption and poverty of Cambodian society. I refer you to the impassioned blog post I wrote on the afternoon of the accident.

Return to Tokyo: I knew that I wanted to end my trip in Japan, to return to a place I lived for 18 months in the early 1990s. I did just that and I am now reminded of that old adage about not being able to go home again. In the years since I lived in Tokyo, I’ve changed, Japan has changed and the world has changed. I love the country and the Japanese. I loved taking Japanese lessons and exploring the country again. But in the end I could have done with less. I’d been on the road for most of the year and was tired, wanted to do little more than curl up with a good book and a glass of whiskey. So I spent most of my time in Tokyo enjoying solitude and rest.

My time in Tokyo was good for the spirit, but perhaps something of a missed opportunity. Perhaps what it taught me is that the next time I take off and travel the world, I’ll impose a six-month limit. For me, that seems just right.

So on the eve of my return to the U.S., I look forward to reuniting with family and friends, to starting a new chapter in my life that builds on everything that’s come before.

Some people say travel changes you. I think that’s a big fat myth. I’m still the same person I was when I started this trip. What I have now that I didn’t have before is a greater understanding of the world and my place in it. I think I’m more humble. I’m definitely more aware of how fortunate I am. My place in this world is small, but my future is unlimited. The end? I don't think so. Just another beginning.

A HUGE thanks to everyone who checked in and supported me over the past ten months. I will see you all very soon!

Sydney From Above

The Sydney Opera House is the icon for the city, but turn around and you will see another landmark, the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Opened in 1932, the bridge connects downtown Sydney (the CBD) with North Sydney. Daily traffic includes about 180,000 cars as well as trains, bicycles and pedestraians. The steel structure once earned the nickname "The Coathanger," but I haven't heard anyone use this nickname.

The bridge is also unique because of a company called BridgeClimb that shepherds packs of adventure seekers on a 3 1/2-hour tour from the street to the top of the structure, 134 meters above Sydney Harbour (420 feet or the height of a 40-story building). Australians, tourists, celebrities, adults, familes, they all climb the bridge. What could have turned out to be a dismal experience was the highlight of my trip so far.

The BridgeClimb starts at street level, where climbers sign a release form, are given a breathalyzer test and are introduced to their climb leader. My group of 12 include three English girls on holiday, a French mother and daughter who looked exactly alike, an Australian-Bralizilian couple spending their last days in Sydney before relocating to Brazil, and a mother and her teenage daughter from Tasmania. And me, the lone American.

Once we'd been briefed, we were told to empty pockets and remove nonessential items - watches, jewelry, hats, tissues, anything and everything - and then given snazzy grey and blue jumpsuits and directed to changing rooms. I assume that in order allow the general public to climb to the top of a public structure, the insurance company has instituted strict rules and guidelines. So I looked like an Oompa-Loompa for a few hours. Big deal.

Once we were outfitted with jumpsuits, we were given harnesses, hats, bandannas, a strap to hold glasses/sunglasses, radio transmitters and headsets. Everything clipped to the jumpsuit so nothing would plummet onto the roadway below. We were also given a conntraption that clipped onto the harness that would attach us to a line on the bridge. Noone would plummet onto the roadway either.

There are two sets of ladders that we would be climbing and there was a short practice session. Basically, one at a time, watch your neighbor and be careful.

After a quick group cheer, we were paraded onto the street for the approach to the bridge. Imagine a dozen dorks in matching suits walking through downtown Sydney and you get the picture. This is not an activity for the vain or excessively shy. We reached the start of the climb, clipped in and were ready to go. There was a sense of nervous excitement in the group, with everyone looking forward to the climb but not really knowing what to expect.

The route starts with a level walk across a catwalk on the approach to the south pylon, a massive structure of white granite. This first catwalk is about two feet wide and see-through, so as we moved toward the water the street and the roof of the Sydney Hyatt were visible about a hundred feet below (there's a nice little pool on the roof of the Hyatt - who knew?). Already there were views of The Rocks, Circular Quay and the Opera House to the west. After passing the southern pylon, we started to ascend the eastern arch by by a set of short steps. At this point you are still beneath the roadway and feel a bit encased, often ducking to avoid banging your head on a beam. You are walking on catwalks, wooden planks and steel steps - always attached to the bridge and never in danger. This is the guts of the bridge, all laid out in front of you. Anyone interested in how bridges are constructed would be well served by this tour.

Once you reach the ladders and climb past the roadway, you leave the guts behind and the sense of exposure grows. The header at the top of this blog now shows the bridge. The route takes you on top of the structure on the easern side (closest to the camera). There is a long series of steps as you continues to the top, to where the flags are, and then you cross to the western side for the descent. Along the way, there's little chatter from the guide other than a few safety reminders. There are a few stops for individual photos (available to purchase in the gift shop later, of course), but for the most part everyone is left to gawk at the view and experience the climb for themselves.

I was worried that the climb would be rushed, but there were often times when we just stopped to enjoy the view. As individual pictures were being taken, on the approach to the top, at the top itself and while descending eh western arch, the group was left to its own devices. There were a few times when I was relatively by myself at the top of the bridge. The 360-degree views stretched from the Pacific Ocean to the east, north over North Sydney, to the inner harbour to the west and south over the Central Business District.

I chose a 5:30 pm climb, which meant we started when the sun was shining, but as we got higher and higher, the lights of the city started to turn on, the sun started to set in the west and the temperature dropped. Good move on my part. For an extra $80 there is a twilight climb, which I would do if I were to return to Sydney someday, just to be on the bridge at night.

The BridgeClimb could have been lame. Instead, great care has been taken to making climbers feel safe, giving them time to enjoy the climb and making the experience something to really remember. Paul Cave, the founder of BridgeClimb, worked for 11 years to make this a reality, battling city and state organizations to make it happen. His persistance has paid off. CLose to 2 million people have climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I'm just one of them, and I'm not being paid by anyone involved with the organization. But I can wholeheartedly recommend BridgeClimb - you will never forget the experience.

I think the look on my face says it all.



My group at the top of the bridge:

Bats!

Adjacent to the Opera House are the Royal Botanic Gardens, a sprawling park in the center of the city. After about an hour, I entered an area with tall trees and thick brush and heard a terrible racket. There must be hundreds of birds here, I thought, some species you wouldn’t want to living next door. But when I looked up it wasn’t birds, it was bats. Hundreds of fat furry creatures hanging upside down in the trees, occasionally flapping their wings and screeching. It is a species called the Grey-Headed FLying Fox, or fruit bats. They are found only in Australia and are some of the largest bats in the world.

As much as I prepared for this trip, the best moments will be the ones where I’m taken by surprise. No one told me I'd see a colony of bats in the middle of a major metropolis. Great stuff.

Sydney = Awesome

Every city shares distinct features. There’s always a central business district, charmingly referred to with the acronym CBD in Australia (has anyone heard this used in America?), entertainment areas, parks, universities, slums, industrial zones, and the inevitable tourist atrap. In Sydney, this is The Rocks, an overly developed conglomeration of shops, restaurants, high-end hotels, street performers and tourists sandwiched between the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. It's everything I don't want to see in one convenient location. It's inevitable that I ended up there -- it's close to major attractions, in every guidebook on the planet and probably worth the 30 minutes I spent there. I saw it. I left. Check. I didn’t travel half way around the world to mingle with passengers from the Sapphire Princess. Nevertheless, the harbor is beautiful and the Opera House is a spectacle worthy of the hype.

I’m surprised by my reaction to world landmarks. Before visiting the Grand Canyon, the pyramids in Egypt, the Empire State Building, the Taj Mahal, I assumed their reputations were based on hype. Seeing, and in some cases touching, them validates the hype. What makes them so special? They are grand in and of themselves, but seeing them up close gives them context. They all fit perfectly in their environments. I'm no urban planner or architect, but to me the Sydney Opera House felt like a representation of Sydney, perhaps even of Australia.

I’ve only been here two days and have just skimmed the surface, but first impressions are important. Sydney feels like a city of the future. It’s modern yet comfortable. It’s sleek and stylish but inviting and relaxed. There are futuristic skyscrapers (no pictures yet, damn battery!) and tranquil parks. There’s a mix of people and cultures, all of them friendly and accomodating. Here in Sydney, where the nearnest neighboring country is hours away by air, Australians have carved out a pretty special piece of the planet. Perhaps this is what America once was, an open, inviting society pushing its own limits and creating its own future.

An Indian woman I met on the trip from the U.S. described Sydney as an American city and Melbourne as more European. Australia is still a rather young country, so perhaps it’s adopting whatever tastes, modes, styles or attitudes are right. Whatever the answer, it is doing something right. Coming from the dog eat dog streets of New York to this place is like opening a window and letting in fresh air. I'll be thinking about this more when I leave Sydney and visit the country's other cities. And it doesn’t hurt that it’s the middle of summer, sunny, warm and beautiful.

Sunday in Sydney

My first day in Australia turned into a total bust - just too exhausted from the trip to do anything more than check into my guesthouse, take a nice hot shower, wash some clothes and wander the neighborhood for an hour. At 4pm I lay down for an hour's nap that lasted all night long. Every experienced traveller knows you should adjust yourself to local time by staying awake until bedtime and putting in a normal night's sleep. My normal night's sleep just turned out to be 14 hours.

This morning I got up early and strolled through the quiet Sunday streets, enjoying the warm weather and sunshine and registering my first lucid impressions of Australia. A place is never what you expect it to be. It's too early for me to pass judgment on Sydney, let alone Australia as a whole, but first impressions are all good. This is a mellow place, with friendly people and an international atmosphere. My taxi driver yesterday was Lebenese (Al, who told me the people in the neighborhood I'm staying in, Glebe, are "rubbishy"), my morning coffee was purchased from a Vietnamese bakery owner and the guesthouse is staffed by an older American. And there are plenty of Aussies around.

Here is a picture of Sydney as I saw it for the first time, from the air. The view is of the city south of the airport:


By the way, Glebe is awesome, not rubbishy, with friendly people, great ethnic restaurants and lots and lots of used bookstores. My kind of place.