Pai

Pai

3 hours and 700 curves outside of Chiang mai sits a paradise named Pai. The tiny town, ran by Thai Rastas , hippies and back to the earth happy folk is surrounded by idyllic rice patties who's bright green color blends to forest in the surrounding mountains. We rent a scooter and Adam very safely winds us along tiny un trafficked roads where I feel like I am flying, riding the back of a bird. We land at amazing water falls, view points and hot springs, climb stairs to a giant Buddha on the hill, and stop to find tropical birds that I spot from the back. 

To stay we have found a place in the rice patties owned by a couple of Thai hippies. The woman is passionate about cooking and makes us amazing breakfasts centered around fresh fruit and an assortment of home made seeds and dried vegetables. It is Thai health food at its best! The man is passionate about fish. So passionate that he has three giant fish tanks, a fish pond, and two separate small lakes that are stocked with fish if all types and sizes. Our little cabin is built right on the side of one of the lakes and, when Adam asked if he could swim the owner said "well you can get in but you might not get out! There are fish as big as you in there!" He even has a small pool to breed his own fish and will rent guests fishing poles but they cannot eat the fish-they have to release them back after catching them.

As the last major destination on our trip Pai serves as the location for us to envision integrating back into normal working society again. We feel both sad that our trip is ending and excited to see friends and family again and contribute back to the world through our work. We have now shared an experience as partners and travelers together which has brought us closer, cementing the beginning of our marriage together with a strong and beautiful bond. Our gratitude for all of our community that have supported us making this journey with funds and/or love is overflowing. And now the travel fire is lit-we are planning our next adventure already.

Chiang Mai, city of memories

Chiang Mai, City of memories, we explore her busy streets finding foods, businesses, and words that I pull up from my experience living here almost ten years ago when I studied abroad in college. The city is so easy to be in and get around through and we stayed about one week, having a multitude of experiences in and around town where we dug deeper into life here. we loved filling our bellies with delectable Thai food, and took a cooking course with a passionate chef who truly schooled us on how to make Thai food on our own. We also discovered the live music scene and Adam made friends with an incredible beat boxer from Chicago and ended up free styling with him in a packed bar. We were immediately drawn to the ornate and sacred Buddhist temples and decided to do a two day intro to meditation course where we donned all white in complete silence and sat with a monk and other foriegners . We learned about Thai Buddhism, how to pray, and how to bring mindfulness to many different practices. We also spent our time visiting vibrant street markets, riding an elephant, and learning about northern Thai culture. And I ate a LOT of mango and sticky rice. 

Hanoi Hustle

Hanoi Hustle 

Remember the old school Atari and the game frogger? We stood on the corner of a street in the bustling alley like maze of Hanoi's old quarter, feeling much like that green digital frog and wondering how the heck we were supposed to cross a street with no lights and no break in the swarms of motor bikes the rule the road. How does it work? Well it's a lot like frogger except instead of getting squished, the bikes weave around you. That doesn't change the fact that we felt like every street crossing was worthy of a gold medal.

Motor bikes aside, the old quarter is fascinating - bamboo, locks, traditional medicine, toys, flip flops, trinkets, kitchen sinks, flowers, jewelry - you name it - every street had something it was known for selling. Mixed in were delicious street food vendors that each specialized in one fabulous thing (pho, mixed noodles, pork buns, hot pot, sugar cane juice, jelly shakes etc). The little fried donut balls would put Dunkin donuts and Krispy Kreme out of business in no time. At night we drank copious amounts of bia Hoi, a cheap beer (20 cents a glass) popular with locals and tourists alike. To escape the hustle, we enjoyed two lovely city lakes, water puppets and a few museums. We made friends with the owner of our hotel/homestay, talking Buddhism while drinking beers and listening to Vivaldi on his old phonograph. The place was the queen garden hotel and we dug it. We met up with some fellow travelers we'd run into a few other places for beers and shared meals. Though Hanoi has its hustle (and fair share of scams, which we were warned of ahead of time) there's a vibrant fun to its fast pace urbanity. Elisa Was happy when on our last city day we walked to a large lake and escaped the mayhem. Happier still when we left the "big city" for gorgeous natural scenery in both Halong Bay and Sapa.

Sapa mountains, vietnam

Here I met my Black Hmong sister Kerr, our guide. Same age same positive disposition we giggled through the mountains, looking at plants, comparing love traditions, and admiring beauty. As she led us through her scenic mountains gorgeous rice patty under looming mountains opened upon each other.

It is a place of simplicity, recognized from some of my previous travels where traditions are honored and people live close to the land and each other and far away from everything else. The floor of your house is compacted dirt, you cook on a fire, and the jungle a bit up from your rice patty serves as a place to collect food (adam ate skinned bees that the 14 year old boy collected for dinner), where to get wood and fronds for building your house, the medicine cabinet and a bathroom. Each piece of clothing takes almost a year to make so the value of your five piece wardrobe is completely different.

We leave our three day track soar, muddy and a bit soggy but with the insight of having walked through a world so different from ours, but also in many ways the same.

Elisa

Phong Nha-Ke Bang: Adventures In Middle Earth

Rice patties, distant mountains, and cow traffic jams describe this town above ground. But under the karst formations is what has caught international attention. We spent two days climbing down into the depths of the earth, moving past jaw dropping intricate gaudi-like formations of stalactites and stalagmites. On the first day we We  entered the ridiculously immense paradise cave, our jaws dropping at the breath and scope of the lunar formations that make Carlsbad caverns look tiny. Passing throngs of chatty tourists, our group of 12 walked to the end of the brightly lit boardwalk where a guard opened a tiny gate for us to walk through with our guides. Into the darkness and the silence. 3 miles of underground cave systems with headlamps and ours was the only group ad they allow only 12 people a day past the gate. We swam through pools of cave water, and climbed over and under immense rock walls. We slid through under ground mud rivers, a group of adults giggling like small children as we all got stuck in the mud or fell and got covered. At one point our guide pecked at the stalagmites with his fingers and to Adam's surprise and joy, each one played a clear bell like sound! Different pitches for each and everyone tried their hand at this awesome natural instrument. Our guide even offered up a rendition of jingle bells, miles under the earth. After hours of underground adventure we emerged in a light shaft where an underground river rushed by that came all the way from Laos and continued on for kilometers more. This was an epic adventure and the next day we enjoyed phong na cave with a beautiful boat ride through the grottos of a lunar landscape.

A Vietnamese-British couple that lived in the area predicted the popularity of the cave system and started a farm stay where we stayed for two nights. It was the perfect blend of the two cultures, providing the comfort of home that a easy to communicate with staff, cold beer, and a movie night and band provide with a very kind and fun staff. We biked the beautiful country side and enjoyed good morning Vietnam on lounge chairs and pool time after long and lovely cave sojourns.

With our clothes muddy and our hearts full of joy we boarded the overnight train to Hanoi.

Love at first light (and bite)

We left Cambodia with mixed feelings about our experience on the bike trip and looking forward to a truly wonderful experience in our next stop. This was also the end of the portion of our trip that we had, for the most part, pre booked. Now the travel training wheels were off and we were freewheelin' Bob Dylan style. Having bought the ticket to ho chi Minh city with the intention of traveling on to Hanoi one day, we woke up the next and decided to visit Hoi An first since, among other things, it has beautiful beaches and we got rained out in Sihanoukville. 

We got picked up at the airport in Danang and immediately noticed that the roads were much better than in Cambodia and the scenery...jaw dropping. Lush green mountain after mountain rolled like nesting serpents behind green fields, river ways and then the ocean.

The village of Hoi an started as a small fishing village and grew into an international trading location. There we explored beautiful old wooden buildings built using the traditional architecture of multiple cultures that still, keeping their traditions, sold bright colored wares through the front downstairs. 

We enjoyed riding bikes through the calm city and out into the rice patties and palm filled waterways, all the way to the beach. There we felt like we were in paradise, swimming the bath like calm waters and walking the white sand beaches. Elisa also discovered the glory of freshly fried coconut filled doughnuts. And in town Adam was lured by the local tailors and, much to Elisa's pleasure, had a suit made that fits him perfectly.

The food was crazy good especially the local cau lau noodles made only from the bale well water and an amazing restaurant named after the well. We rolled in and asked for a menu but there was none - thru just bring you a big 'ol pile of goodness: pork satay, spring rolls, Vietnamese pancakes, pickled veggies, herbs and rice paper to roll it all up in. Yum!

All these aspects of Hoi an won our hearts on their own but the most magical celebration happened the first night, putting the icing on the cake. When we had planned our trip to Hoi an we had planed it to catch a lantern festival that happens once a month, but, since we were now there at a different time we figured that we were going to miss it. As it turns out though, we made it just in time for a lunar  lantern festival instead. 

When we went into town that first night it was magical. The businesses turned down their regular lights and turned on grorgeous cloth lanterns that bathed the streets in color. Beyond that people also floated hundreds of small candles down the river in colorful paper rafts for good luck. Everyone was out to enjoy the festivities, walking the street with friends, drinking coffee and eating snacks seated on the street in little plastic chairs, or enjoying the theatrical lottery that took place in the town square. We both lit candles with wishes for out like bed ones and set them afloat down the river.

All in all Hoi an was amazing and probably our favorite spot on our entire trip up to that point. 

Cambodia is a land of rice patties, bumpy roads, delicate gilded monestaries, amazing ancient temples, and an extremely resilient people who are still in the process of rebuilding their country and families after a civil war and extremely oppressive regime only 30 years ago. 

We explored Cambodia on bicycle and van and, in Adams words, painted a landscape of the country and its people in our brains as we rode. 

The first two days we rode through Angkor watt. Our jaws dropped as we gaped at the amazingly intricate, meaningful and ancient temples rising out of the jungle.

Then we bumped through the countryside where rice farming takes up a bulk of the countries space and the people's livelihood. Unfortunately Cambodian government is extremely corrupt and don't seem to do much in terms of road maintenance so when I say bumped I really mean bumped. The soil here is red and the days very hot and humid so while we peddled past squares of rice patties, skinny white cows and traditional Khmer houses, thatched roof, on stilts with the cooking and hanging out area underneath, we also moved past our physical limits. We summed up our persistence, positivity, and flexibility as our guides changed our plans and I discovered my inner water buffalo as I stuburmly and often slowly pushed on. We felt lucky to have a van with cold drinks and a guide to show us the back roads along the way.

In the middle of our journey we stayed in phenom penn, a bustling capital city full of people, noise, and stacked three story buildings with balconies that are surrounded by rickety looking power and telephone lines. We stopped at teul sleng museum-a former school turned detention center by the Khmer rogue. There we stood in the rooms where they sistematically tortured and then killed all the intellectuals, artists, dissenters, and former government workers during their reign in the 70s. They then emptied the cities, sending everyone to work in the country in forced labor camps. Every single person in this country was affected by this history and everyone that we have talked to knows brothers and sisters who died as children from disease, aunts and uncles who died of starvation or parents friends who were tortured and killed. We see older folks still using the red and white checkered scarf that was issued as uniform during that time as sun protection when working in the fields. People share their stories in a matter of fact way and when you watch strangers interact you get a sense of comerodity-people have made it through together. In the museum they have pictures of each deetanie and some images of the same people after they died, imaciated and beaten. The pictures line the walls of two or three rooms and I have never seen such anger, betrayal, and distain so evident in pictures. After seeing those rooms i sat down and cried.

On the rest of our journey to the coast we saw Cambodia building. We saw an environmentalist mission building when we hiked to a waterfall, people building houses and farms along the way, a opposition political party building momentum and Cambodian music and dance building a pop scene. lWhen we got to the beach in Sihanoukville we saw the tourism and export industries building as well. We also saw lots of people building families with lots of love and very cute children.

On the coast we were met with the monsoon head on. Rain coats did little to keep us dry since when we wore them we got just as wet from sweat as we would have from rain. It was fun to bike through the tropical rain forests, tall trees and stringy vines  covered with red mud with giant warm raindrops soaking us. When we ended at the ocean the waves roared and crashed tumultuously. We spent one day here but, because of the rain cut off our plans to stay on the Cambodian islands and headed back to Penom Penh for an amazing dinner at Malis, the best Khmer restaurant in the capital, in celebration of Adam's birthday. We are headed now to Hoi AnVietnam. The beauty of spontaneous travel is that one plan skipped opens a myriad of opportunities for future adventures added on. So...onward to Vietnam we go!

Munduk, Bali

Chive trees give way to coffee give way to rice terraces give way to ocean in this beautiful region. The Balinese believe that the world has three levels-the lowest level, symbolized by the ocean where negative rests (in the human manifestation our feet), the middle level where life takes place as humans try and balance negative and positive forces where villages and rice patties can be found (the body) and the highest level where the positive forces of God reigns in the mountains(our head). From here in munduk we can sit on the deck of our small comfortable home stay and see all three levels. 

We spent most of our two days in Munduk exploring the middle level-the human level and the small villages that seem to hold on to the sides of the mountains for deer life, their red roofs dotting the lush green of the mountains. Our theme here was going on a hike, getting lost, and finding interesting villages along the way. One day we traversed jungle and ended up at an amazing waterfall, watched Balinese doughnuts being made in a small cafe (and tasted them of course) and then took a wrong turn and headed down a windy toad through many tiny villages, smiling at people who always returned the smile and tried to help us find our way. This journey ended at a music shop where we watched an old man make bamboo instruments who also spent about an hour teaching us rhythms and songs to play on them. Our next adventure sent us winding up rice patties where very intricate irrigation systems Are put in place to keep each field wet and ready for growing rice. Then, after our wrong turn, we adventured up through small villages where we poked our heads into a school-it was tiny and simple, and a community temple. 

In Bali everyone wakes and gives offerings to god for a good day and then gives more offerings at the end of the day to thank god for the day. These offerings are given at family temples that are built right into everyone's family compound and at community temples, complete with the three layers, that are in the local community. There are celebrations and rituals for energy thing and July 15th (which also happens to be Adams birthday) is a very important celebration day so everyone was getting their temples ready and decorating for the event. 

We stayed with a very sweet family honestly which we lived.

After our adventures in Munduk we stayed in jimbaren on our way out and hopped a plane for our next country-Cambodia.

Gili Air to Ubud, Bali: Cacophony and Polyphony

Ridges of rice patty etched inside a lush dense forest. volcanic folds of green mountain Majestic and gentle stretch out toward the distant sea.

Red roof white houses in a few small mountain villages tucked in, dot the landscape. We are in Munduk, Bali now, seemingly far from the hypnotic pulse of Kecak chants and gamelan polyphony, dense motor scooter filled roads, cacophony of barter in mazes of colorful market stalls. 

Beautiful Bali now for almost two weeks and this somehow feels like the first true moment of pause in which I can give some focused attention to sharing some of our experiences with you. 

When traveling to new places, days can seem like weeks and weeks like a lifetime. Elisa says that each experience in a day is one frame. So we will click back several frames of several days to our surreal departure from Gili Air.

After a meditative yoga with bamboo sticks class and seeing our first Komodo dragons (pets of an islander), we headed for the boat and, our first travel setback as it was 30 minutes late. Elisa wanted to find travel bracelets so we went back into town and met with our first experience with money trickery - Bali deals in thousands, hundred thousands and millions. (13,200 to the U.S. Dollar) so it's easy to get lost in the zeros. Fortunately we were well versed by this time. In truth it's all relative. A meal for 3 can cost $5 U.S. In a simple Warung (Cafeteria) so it's no place to stress. It's a bargaining system and while you want to get a fair deal it feels funny to bargain with people who have so much less than we do. Interactions and exchanges have always been important to me and on this trip I've wanted to make sure that the exchange created good karma for all. A forgiving heart can sometimes open the door. For the most part, the Balinese make it easy as almost everyone is quite generous of spirit with a beaming smile and open curiousity which has made for many a great conversation. The same goes I should say for our wonderful fellow travelers from Italy, France New Zealand, Austraila, Malaysia and beyond, with whom we shared bintang beers, meals, stories and travel advice. One night we ate and drank by bonfire with an eclectic and lively group (American, English, Swedish and Norweigan) who had met up while traveling and climbed Mt. Rinjani (two day trek) just days before. We considered it but would not have enough time this go around. We were later joined by a most happy Malaysian couple whom we'd met briefly on our snorkeling your earlier that day.  We would later run into Irving and Liz from the Boston area whom we'd met on the boat, fellow musicians who were in Bali for the international body music festival in Ubud, which I had intended to join for a workshop but was too caught up in all things Balinese. Good folks, good times.

Back to the boat. When you get on, you put your shoes in the bin marked for your destination. Remember this detail for later. Having sat inside on the way out, Elisa and sat outside on the back of the boat. Breezy and wet. We were joined by Captain Preston Steele of Vancouver, a former underwater filmmaker who had traveled SE many times. It was helpful that he knew so much about the sea because we headed into extremely choppy waters. The ride made my worst airplane turbulence experience seem like a merry-go-round in a kiddie park. The swells were so big I almost bit my tounge. It helped that Captain Steele was smiling and laughing the whole way. Soon, we were too! Once we got to shore we were ready to get to Ubud as soon as possible. We grabbed our bags and Elisa went to get our shoes. Not there. We waited barefoot on the beach for a while until we were informed that our shoes had been left on the last island stop and would come on the next boat 30 minutes later. Our New Zealand boat mates said that we were taking it all in stride (hard not to when you are chilling on a beautiful tropical beach). They said you can tell a lot about a person by how they handle lost luggage, untangle Christmas lights or, you guessed it, traveling. It was at this point, in our first set back that Elisa and I smiled to acknowledge that we had been traveling quite well together. Later came the shoes and off to Ubud.

Ubud is a vibrant city of the senses. Fragrant ceremonial offering incense mixed with restaurant and food stall lemongrass, kafir lime. Floral body lotions and essential oils. Bright and muted batik cloth and clothing, alley way streets packed with warungs (cafeterias) and hip trendy restaurants. If you go to Ubud you will feel like a kid in the candy store of life. The area is much larger and more international than I expected. We ate prayed and loved Ubud but not without reservations. The constant clamor of the taxi touts and crowded streets can wear down the most optimistic of travelers. Beautiful and bustling, shades of eco chic commercialization both add and subtract from the experience at once.  It's as if every major European city, New York, SF and LA's hipster yogini's all descended enmass to renvision and reinterpret classic Hinduism meets animism for their own quasi spiritual experience. That said, we kind of fit the bill and had a blast in Ubud. Ironically we did not take one yoga class because we were so busy doing so many other things! 

 A cooking class at Cafe Wayan gave us insight into the intricate blend of spices and ingredients that go into some of our favorite dishes: Mie Goreng (wok fried noodles), tuna curry and rangdang (think Asian  brisket). Bokso is the dumpling street soup of the people and it is delicious.

We took in mezmerizing gamelan with Legong and barong dances at the Ubud palace, Kelod community hall and elsewhere. We witnessed a full moon Kecak (polyrhythmic chanting) performance involving 50 men and boys who kicked balls of fire at the Arma, a quirky modern art meets classical museum. There we also met an artist and expat who looked like he had stepped out of a psychedelic tropical wizard machine and had not quite landed from his last acid trip in 1978. He fashioned himself the last of the great Jewish artists in a line direct from Walter Spies who helped to popularize the area. His lobby art was, well, out there. 

We were joined at the Kecak by several Australians with serious cameras who couldn't go more than 5 seconds without snapping a photo, flash on.  I know because I counted, like one would in between lightening flashes to determine how close or far the storm was. In this case, the storm was directly in front of us. I was surprised and found it incredibly disrespectful. Would they do this at a performance in their own country? Did they perceive the experience as some demonstration of "savage" ritual? Come on folks. You are not on a cruise boat to Cancun here. One of these folks got their due come uppance as, at one point, as one of the performers came into the audience, snatched the camera and traded places with the guy, popping off flash photos in his face. That, and the balls of fire flew off the stage and came quite close. Yet the performers took it in stride and with good humor. All told, I found Kecak to be quite mezmerizing and, when not counting flashes, got happily lost in the cacophony of voices. 

That day we also met some cool Italians who were traveling Indonesia for two months and volunteering. A light bulb sparked in Elisa's imagination (I think it's actually been there for some time) and we've been talking about the idea ever since. 

While in Ubud, we stayed at Narasoma Homestay based on our friend Eugene's recommendation and it was easily our favorite accommodation on Bali. Homestay by the way more often than not means hotel run by a family. Down a little alley side street off of the futbol square, Narasoma's courtyard is resplendent with intricate wood and stone Balinese carving and sculpture which continue into its lush tropical gardens and infinity pool.  I should note that most every home in Bali (Balinese live for the most part in extended family compounds) has some ornate decor at its gate and within it's home temple. That's right. almost everyone family has their very own temple. More on that later. 

Narasoma is at once classical and beautiful, whimsical and quirky. The rooms, named after flowers have red and gold signs above them (ours was Marigold) and the double wooden doors have old school o rings with a padlock to lock your room, If Wes Anderson was to make a film set in Ubud, he might choose Narasoma. 

We got amazing Balinese spa treatments overlooking the river that runs through the property after several days of highly active activity. 

Another day we hiked a ridgeline and walked through rice patties and small villages. We walked the monkey forest, watching babies mamas and grandpas swing, ramble and pull off the caps of unsuspecting tourists. We  met Ketut, a happy and pure spirited local artist who was featured in an exhibition about to open in the monkey forest gallery.  He showed us his large canvas and intricate classical paintings which we based on Ramayana stories and bucolic Balinese village life. The level of fine almost pencil like detail in his work and in all classical art that we saw was astonishing. The Balinese are crafty folk and in addition to painting are know for textiles, wood and stone carving and silversmithing.

Elisa and I took a silversmithing class and designed our own wedding bands featuring carnelians because flints of these stones can be found on rodeo beach in the Marin headlands (where Elisa and I met) if you look long and hard enough. The ring blessings on our other rings by our family and friends were not in vain. We did several ceremonies to transfer your blessings!

The first blessing occurred in a small nearby village known for the thousands of white egrets who return home to its trees each evening at sunset. Wings of white egrets over red roof tops, lush green rice patties and tropical forest. The spectacle was simple breathtaking. 

On our last Ubud day we traveled to Denpasar, the biggest city on the island where few tourists tend to roam. When we arrived, a gaggle of young girls were getting ready for a performance and dance competition  in the park. We visited the Bali Art Museum and learned about sacred swords, ancient trading coins and the barong dance we'd seen alongside an introduction to traditional Balinese life. Suffice to say that all aspects of traditional life are spiritual and celebrated (Bali literally means ceremony). 

Next we ventured into the Denpasar street market which is absolutely massive, crowded with pedestrians and motorbikes and filled with colorful cloth and a matrix of food vendors: coconuts, eggs, papaya slices, vegetables abound. We bought some snacks from a happy woman who spoke no English  but who smiled and patiently held up the amount for each treat we pointed to. Our main purpose for visiting Denpasar was to take in an evening of the annual and month long Bali Arts Festival, during which the very best Gamelan and dance groups perform battle royal style, two groups on the stage for the evening going song for song and dance for dance. This festival is revered across the island but scant few foreigners attend. I counted eight others all day in a crowd of thousands. To get to the festival we walked through throngs of carnival stalls which felt much like a makeshift street mall. There was even a mini carnival for kids with eerie Disney-esque merry go round animals. 

After taking in a sample of drama gong (Chinese opera meets Balinese soap opera) featuring the best gamelan ensemble I have ever heard we headed for the main event. The competing groups I should mention vie first in localized completions to make it to this stage and these cats were decked out in their mallet wielding gong smashing finest. The setting was grand with temple like gate walls as a back drop, the two groups flanked by sparkler shooting umbrellas facing each other and the dancers making grand entrances between the ensembles down seemingly ancient stone steps. The grooves were hypnotic and my ears buzzed as I moved between dissecting parts and absorbing the whole sound. As the evening wore on we realized that it might actually not be so easy to flag down a cab. As I mentioned, the crowd was practically all Balinese who, for the most part drive scooters, sometimes with up to four people on them. Elisa and I thought we might be destined for a night on the Denpasar streets as Ubud is an hour north. As the event was drawing to a close, I spotted two foreigners who were in attendance with a local. They were all speaking Italian and fortunately spoke English. The Balinese man, Ka de, called us a cab and offered to drive us to Ubud if the cab did not show. He also, as it turned out was the owner of Bali fantastic tours, the number one  tour company on the island. We had been looking for a driver and guide for the next day of travel and sightseeing and made plans with Ka de on the spot. While we were talking, a Taiwanese tourist who had taken Uber to the festival but had no internet or way home joined our group and we all headed for the exit. Though the cab driver said he was on his way, he never came. Ka de loaded Elisa and I, the Italians and the Taiwanese girl and his daughter and wife into his van and off we drove into the Denpasar night. He dropped the Taiwanese girl at her hotel and we stopped at Kade's house to drop off his wife and daughter and the Italians who were former clients and now house guests. Kade's house was unusual in that it was a cellphone store, tour office and home all in one.

Kade drove us back to Ubud at 11pm and basically saved our butts. We thanked him profusely and headed for a few hours of shut eye before the big day of travel.

Elisa and I purposefully left our last few days on Bali open to see where the winds might take us. We decided to conclude our time in Bali somewhere quite, remote and naturally gorgeous. We found the incomparable Munduk, 2.5 hours to the northwest of Ubud from which I began this post which I am now finishing on our flight to Singapore and Bangkok enroute to Siem Reap Cambodia. We will miss Bali - it really resonated with us but for now we say Sampai Joompa Bali (see you).

Gili Air

After Sanur we took a boat to Gili air. When we got on the boat they took are shoes and, with bare feet, swaying to the rhythm of the ocean, we got right into the island vibe.

On the island everything moves to the rhythm of the ocean. Waking up at sunrise to appreciate the beginning of the day we watched fishermen setting their nets from colorful boats that rocked on the waters. They seemed so at home on the ocean, balancing on the edges of the boat and jumping into the water to tie lines or pull the boat ashore. We fell into the movement of the ocean when we donned our snorkels and floated with the fish, following their amazing colors, shapes, and behaviors. My favorite was the parrot fish and squid and Adam liked the sea turtles and a giant fish he saw. Sometimes the little blue fish would swarm around us surrounding us with a column of moving shimmering blue.

Then after that the days were lazy and slow. We would walk the quiet beaches and rest drinking fruit juices in the little bamboo huts with day beds in them that lined the beaches. The pace of the island magically takes hold as everyone relaxes through the mid day together. This is also the month of Ramadan and most people who work on the island were fasting so even employees were resting and napping throughout the day. It seed wrong that people who are so hungry and thirsty have to serve food and drinks to others but that is how the tourist industry works. You work and push hard to make enough to be able to support your family at home. And what seems like little money to us is huge for them. We live in a world with such disparate wealth.

After a lazy day the island would rally again for subset. Restaurants set up bean bag chairs on the beach in rows like at a movie theater, but instead of watching a screen we watched the sunset. Everyone drank bintang (the local beer) and smiled as the sun went down. Then, after a delicious meal the tourists went to bed and the locals ate dinner and often worked and talked into the night.

I wrote this after watching the sunrise one morning:

Into light and unity:
Golden globe rises over where mountains and ocean meet, sprinkling golden butter warmth in a celestial trail connecting us. As the hills lighten life wakes. People move up and down the beach, animals rise, and birds sing in far away trees as the ocean watches, rolling and tumbling , millions of lives moving with her flow.

Travelers are like these sea creatures, letting life pull them in unforeseen directions, releasing themselves from obligations and returning to the pure flow of life. We are here to slow down. Let our heart beats calm until they fall into line with the ocean and each other. Fall into light and unity.

Forever airplane and terminals finally wash away. Hello tropical ocean. Girl on bike, boys with kite.  Arched bamboo and rubber bands buzz in the wind.

Low tide fisherman and baby Bali splash. Cobblestone boardwalks and warm sand. We arrive in Sanur, a mellow beach tourist town and also home to many locals. We found out that people are named after the order of their birth and I shared with one woman about how in Ghana west Africa people are named after the day of the week they are born. In America we search for the perfect name for our children. What's in a name?

The man at the old Fuji Photoshop who had sold his equipment when photos went digital. The Balinese version of my father. The woman singing to her baby at a little souvenir clothing shop. She told us that today was his six month old ceremony. We noticed a few different bracelets and anklets and she said that they've marked different points in his young life. Song she sang to sooth her child she had heard on television and it begins: Bali, Bali.....

It's been just over 24 hours since we said our last goodbyes at Rancho Cicada and in 10 hours we board our flight to Denpasar Bali to kick off our 7 week South East Asia adventure! Elisa and I are still glowing and filled with joy from the weekend of a lifetime.  

Family and friends came together for an epic wedding weekend at Rancho Cicada in Plymouth California.  Delicious food (tres leches cake and miso glazed salmon among them), libations (Litsky's vodka infusions, steel head pale ale, red and white wine and top shelf whisky galore), drum processionals, ukuleles, guitars, keys, saxophone, nun chucks, comedy, beautiful voices, tributes, dedications, roasts, kind words, great conversations, cross pollinaitons of family and friends, campfires, hot tubs, inner tubes, community vows and song, electro swing dizzy victrola dj sets, acroyoga, toad and frog and smiles forever. We all truly put the HOOT in Hootenanny. And, many hands made light work. We were bowled over with the loving contributions so many made to make the weekend happen. 

 "It was like an outdoor festival", "best wedding ever", "I guess I didn't know what to expect but everything amazed me" and  "best two days of my life" were among the feedback from our guests! We feel blessed that folks felt this way about our wedding weekend.

On the summer solstice, longest days of the year, in celebration of fathers, family, friends, community, love and life (L'chaim!!) we came together in community to create something extraordinary and we are so happy to be able to take this energy with us as we embark on our summer adventures.  

Stay tuned for an update from Bali.  

With love and light in our hearts,

Adam and Elisa