Back in Wyoming

I return to the USA in early June and spend the next two weeks in my hometown of Canton, Ohio. Highlights include dancing to my brother's band on "biker night," reconnecting with extended family I haven't seen in years at Dad's summer party, and indulging in homemade veggie pizza, red wine, and late night conversation at Mom's. I visit friends who are in various stages of motherhood--one has an adorable 1-year-old daughter and is pregnant with her second, two others are in their third trimester. It feels funny to wake up in the same bed in the same town for several consecutive nights. On June 19, exactly six months after I left, I return home to Jackson, Wyoming. It's greener than I've ever seen it and I'm informed that the relentless rain finally let up the day before. Perfect timing! My Top 10 Favorite Jackson Summer Activities: 1. Trail running: The 11 mile route from Game Creek to Cache Creek is my favorite. 2. On the Water: Whether rafting or kayaking the Snake River, tubing Flat Creek, or boating on Jackson Lake, I'm all about it. 3. In the Water: The "hippie hot spring" near my house is the perfect temperature and offers a view of roaring Granite Falls. 4. Camping in the Gros Ventres: I have to wear extra thick socks as my feet approach arctic temperatures at night, but the silhouetted Tetons and star-gazing more than makes up for it! 5. Biking with friends to the People's Market: a Wednesday gathering of local food vendors, artists, beer, and music. Always a good time. 6. Hiking the lesser known areas of Yellowstone: I skip Old Faithful and opt for a nearby hike that leads me past wispy Fairy Falls, spouting Imperial geyser, and gurgling mudpots. Best of all, I only shared these sites with ten other people rather than a hundred. 7. Hiking to Phelps Lake or around Curtis Canyon at dusk. Simply peaceful. 8. Dining outside with friends at Teton Thai or Lotus Cafe. 9. Wildlife sightings: Seeing buffalo, moose, and elk still gives me a thrill. 10. Taking photos of the gorgeous landscape! And now...back to work! I am happy to report I was able to return to my former nanny gig!

Trip Cost Total: $9574

It's been a week since I wrapped up my 5 month trek around the world. I am happy to report I achieved my goal of keeping the trip under $10,000. Below is a breakdown of my expenses which I tracked and converted to US dollars using the current exchange rates at the time.

Flights: $3370

I purchased my flights in advance through Airbrokers.com--travel agents specializing in around the world itineraries. My route included 8 one-way flights and many logical overland segments so I did not have to backtrack (i.e. flying into Sydney but out of Melbourne). I also purchased 2 short hops in Asia for a total of 10 flights.

Insurance: $225

My regular insurance policy does not apply to travel abroad for longer than 90 days. Worldnomads.com offers reasonably priced policies offering emergency medical coverage (thankfully I never had to use it!)

Visas & Visa waivers: $105

Two entries into Cambodia, one in Vietnam, and New Zealand visa waiver. I only needed my passport to enter all the other countries on my route.


Below are my day to day expenses. This category includes everything I purchased pertaining to the trip from the time I landed in Fiji on January 5 until my departure from the Netherlands on June 3---Food, lodging, surface transportation (buses, trains, car rental, boats, tuk tuks), communication (sim cards, internet cafes, skype credit), activities (snorkeling, caving, cycling, massage, park entrance fees, museums, sightseeing, etc.), shopping (from tolietries to thai dresses), and airport departure taxes. I have listed how much I spent and the daily average for each region.

Fiji, New Zealand, & Australia: $2318 (daily average=$51.51)

Time period: January 7 through February 20. Couchsurfing in Auckland, Napier, and Christchurch and staying with friends in Sydney and Dunedin mitigated car rental expenses. I ate alot of veggie quiches, salads, and sandwiches from cafes for around $5. Intercity Coachlines, Naked Bus, and Atomic Shuttles are great companies for inexpensive bus travel all over NZ.

Southeast Asia: $1038 (daily average=$26.62)

Time Period: February 21 through March 31. Huge $2 indian meals in Tanah Rata, $25 snorkeling trips in Railay, and swimming in hidden lagoons for free made for cheap living. Guesthouses were regularly under $20 (and this was split with Laura!) Haggling is expected in the markets. Street food is cheap, delicious, and usually safe. If you want to reduce travel costs, definitely spend a chunk of time here!

Europe: $2518 (daily average=$40)

Time Period: April 1 through June 3. Several factors contributed to lower than expected costs in this region. First of all, I was only in pricey Western Europe for two weeks. Most of my time was spent traveling north from Athens to Prague. Destinations such as Albania, Bosnia, and Slovenia proved to be quite reasonably priced. Between couchsurfing and staying with friends, I arranged 20 nights of free accomodation (Many thanks to Marcela, Petra, Katja & Tobias, Tine, and the Vienna crew!) I used bus services such as Eurolines more often than trains. Finally, not only did I travel during Europe's shoulder season (spring) but I experienced the most favorable euro to dollar exchange rate we've seen in years (1 euro = between 1.20 and 1.30 usd)

Total Trip Cost=$9574

Overall, I think my tendency to embrace a lifestyle of simplicity aided my ability to keep day to day costs low. It would be easy to burn through thousands of dollars doing every tourist activity under the sun. I did some of them, but the experiences that really interest me also happen to be the ones that cost little or nothing. One of my favorite places is Meteora, Greece where I trail ran Holy Spirit Mountain, (free) celebrated Easter in the town square by candlelight and fireworks (free), and toured monastaries atop rock formations with new friend, Yannis ($2 entrance fee) My souvenirs are my journals and photos (ok, and a few thai dresses!) Long term travel for people of modest means is possible, but it behooves such a traveler to prioritize carefully. If you are contemplating long term travel, I encourage you to go for it. My trip was one of the most satisfying and liberating experiences of my entire life!


"Vagabonding is about looking for the adventure in normal life and normal life within adventure. Vagabonding is an attitude--a friendly interest in people, places, and things that makes a person an explorer in the truest, most vivid sense of the word. Vagabonding is about time--our only real commodity--and how we choose to use it."

--Rolf Potts, author of my favorite travel book--Vagabonding

Amsterdam

Church bells ring. Trams growl over tracks. Coffee shops exude conversation and wafts of weed. Women ride side saddle on double-seated bicycles steered by boyfriends. Boats glide under bridges in canals past leaning brick houses. Men negotiate prices with the prostitutes in red light district windows. I must be in Amsterdam!

I take the train from Schipohl airport to Centraal Station then walk around the city. I see a couple with backpacks studying a map and strike up a conversation. ''Are you looking for a hostel too?" I ask."We are just trying to find the one we already booked" the guy replies. "You can follow us and see if they have any beds left. I think it's this way." The three of us walk towards the Nieumarkt area, passing the beautiful Waag building until we arrive at a place called The Shelter. The Shelter turns out to be a Christian hostel right next to De Wallen--otherwise known as the red light district. Too hilarious. Actually, the place is pretty great with a spacious kitchen, cute courtyard, and a friendly staff. Some ingenious ways of getting Jesus into your life include the ''God mail box'', Christian music videos, and a Jesus computer program. Pretty soon it feels completely normal to go for a run past prostitues shimmying in their windows then returning to the hostel to find a bible study taking place.

In Amsterdam you can:

• Learn from the scholars at Cannabis College where their mission is to offer ''free advice on safe recreational cannabis use in addition to educating the public about the many uses of the hemp plant."
  


• Legally smoke a joint or consume a space cake inside a coffee shop. However, smoking tobacco cigarettes indoors was banned in 2008. Interestingly, only about 7% of the Dutch population smokes marijuana.


• Visit the sex museum which contains art, photos, and information about sex through the ages as well as animatronic mannequins engaged in a variety of debaucherous activities


• See the World Press Photo 2010 exhibit at the Oude Kerk.
  

• View photos of a professor's strange anatomical specimens at FOAM, marvel the world's largest collection of Van Gough paintings at Van Gough museum or take in some Rembrandts and Vermeers at the Rijksmuseum.
  


• Chillout in Vondelpark and climb on the I amsterdam sign


• Listen to street performers playing music near the National Monument.


• Interact with colorful characters such as a celebratory guy in the skintight red sequined nurses uniform or a wandering guy talking to himself about Saddam Hussein.

• Eat amazing Indonesian food at places like Toko Joyce

Amsterdam was the last stop on this 'round the world itinerary. Time to fly home!

Ahoy matees from Ghent!

My accomodation in Ghent is a boat remodeled into the Andromeda Ecohostel. This is the coolest place I have stayed in yet and energy saving to boot. Showers are low flow and sinks biodegradable. Lights are motion sensored. An efficient and carbon neutral pelletheading system provides hot water while flax insulation utilizes passive heat. The common room is cozy with a small couch, cushioned chairs, and interesting books to thumb through. The hostel is run by Liselot--an friendly, willowy, dreadlocked woman I like instantly.

Fellow guest, Steve is in his late forties and lives near Boulder. He is traveling for a year after getting laid off from his software engineering job. We decide to dine together at Liselot's favorite vegetarian restaurant, called Komkomestijd (translation="Cucumber Time") I pile my plate high with cous cous, mushroom lasanga, tempeh, greens, and spring rolls with the best sweet and sour sauce I've ever had. Steve and I discuss travel and his biking adventures (he brought his bike from Colorado!) then wander past Ghent's beautiful churches after dinner.

The next morning, Belinda and I take a daytrip to the nearby town of Bruges. The highlight of the day is our trip to the chocolate museum. We eat high quality Belocade brand chocolate drops and laugh at the sculpture gallery which includes a chocolate puss in boots, Michael Angelo's Madonna, and Obama. Back in Ghent, we spend the evening talking and drinking organic beers Liselot has on hand including Moinette, Jessenhofke, and Blanche du Hainaut. Yum.

I discover the Blaarmeersen area for running, a lake surrounded by parks and various trails. Birds with white and copper colored heads called Fuut land in the water while people carry long boats to and from the water. I see a guy inside what looks like an enormous beach ball, attempting to stand up. The ball reminds me of the odd sport zorbing but on water!

My last night in Ghent is spent with Liselot, Maarten, and two of their friends at the Groene Vallei Feest where we listen to fantastic ska-reggae band, Wrong 'em Boyo (named after the Clash song). A diverse crowed gathers at the front of the stage and soon we are all dancing in the warm spring rain.

Dresden & Berlin

I am so excited to see Katja and Tobias when they come to meet me at Dresden's bus station! I met this fantastic couple in Cambodia and they kindly invited me to stay with them a few days when I made it to Europe. They share a colorful three-story space with five other people in Dresden's hip Neustadt area where a variety of bars, boutiques, and cafes are within walking distance. They take me to Bautzner Tar bar where we listen to Mr. Beckard and the universal air pressure orchestra--a zany duo that thrives on interaction with the audience. The next day we explore the beauiful buildings of Old Town on the other side of the Elbe river. You can see evidence of Dresden's 1945 destruction from the different colors of brick where the original building and the restored parts meet. Over breakfast, Katja and Tobias's roommate, Uli, tells me about the how Neo-nazis gather in Dresden every year to commemorate the air raid of February 13. Each year anti-fascists attempt to prevent the neo-nazis from marching but fail. Well, perhaps the ghost of Kurt Vonnegut was smiling on the anti-fascists, because this year they were successful for the first time. Led by groups such as the Alliance Dresden Nazifrei (Dresden without Nazis), an estimated 12,000 activists protested and blockaded the area. Police finally cancelled the nazi march. Perhaps this is the beginning of the end of neo-nazi strength in Dresden?

I was not originally intending to go to Berlin due to a lack of time. By the time I arrived in Dresden I only had a few days before my flight from Prague to Amsterdam. But Kajta was going so I took the opportunity. I am so happy I did. I went on two very different walking tours--one showcasing the burgeoning street art culture, the other was a more traditional look at Berlin's history. The history tour took me past sites such as Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie, and the site of Hilter's former bunker (currently a parking lot). I am simply facinated by the Berlin wall--the wall itself, the notion of using a physical barrier to contain ideologies, and the effect the previous division has on a reunified Germany today. The path of the Berlin wall remains marked by a double brick line snaking through the city. It is odd to walk along it and see boutiques and coffee shops where armed guards used to stand. On my own I walked past the famous East Side Gallery--a 1.3 kilometer stretch of remaining wall decorated with the work of around 100 artists. I spent hours here just imagining what it would feel like to cross to the other side the day the border opened in 1989.

The other intense experience during my time in Berlin was a visit to the newly opened Topography of Terror documentation center. This museum was built on the site of previous nazi regime buildings. The section of wall here is the second largest that remains in Berlin (the first is the East Side Gallery). The documentation center details the planning, execution, and aftermath of the Nazi's mass murder of the Jewish population and other minorities. Listening to a (translated to english) recording of Heinrich Himmler's speech to other Nazi party leaders in Pozen, Poland was bone-chilling. This second most powerful Nazi member speaks specifically and frankly of the ongoing extermination of the Jewish people then concludes, "We have carried out this most difficult task for the love of our people. And we have taken on no defect within us, in our soul, or in our character." Because despite organizing the genocide of more than eleven million people, the Nazi's were pretty upstanding citizens, you see. WTF?!?

Dramatic history, seventy museums, and a unique art scene are just a few reasons Berlin is a super interesting city to visit. I'm with Bowie on this on-- "Berlin is the greatest cultural extravaganza one could imagine."

2 countries sharing one town

Cesky Tesin/Cieszyn is an unusual town because half of it lies within the Czech Republic and the other half (Cieszyn) is in Poland. The Olza river separates the two sections of town and you can walk between the two countries over a bridge. The town was divided in 1920 after World War I when Poland and Czechloslovakia were created.

I climb to the top of the Piast Tower for a great view (well, except for the rain) overlooking the two sides of town. The woman at the information center shows me the location of two hotels and two "pensions" (usually a restaurant with lodging above it) I choose, Pod Vesi, a decent deal at 400 czech crowns (about $20) and it is only a few minutes walk from the train station.

My room has tangerine colored walls, a clean bathroom, wooden table, and an old school television--the kind you have to physically push in the rectangular buttons to change one of the 8 available channels! Channels 1 and 4 are Czech news, 2 is Michael Bolton singing in Czech, 5 is some car show in black and white, and channels 3, 6, 7, and 8 don´t work. Hilarious! Unfortunately I do not get much sleep during my stay here due to a rambunctious party downstairs that goes on until after 3am. Oh well.

In the morning, I run along the Olza river and discover the fire department having some kind of competition. Teenagers in firefighter uniforms race down the street with hoses then aim the water stream at red targets while onlookers cheer. I never know what to expect to see on a run. I just wish I had my camera to capture the event!

Olomouc (pronounced ollamoats)

I walk to the town square where there is some kind of talent show taking place under a large white tent. Preteen girls dance to Michael Jackson´s "Beat it" and the crowd goes wild! Next up are boys kickboxing to a death metal song. I´d love to stay, but it is starting to rain. And, more importantly, I need to find Cafe 87 which is where my couchsurfing host, Petra, and I agreed to meet at 5:30. I find a tram heading to her area, Namesti Republiky, and soon enough the cafe appears on my right. Go me! I am proud of myself for having honed the ability to remain calm even when I (temporarily) have no idea where I am!

Petra and I drop my backpack off at her flat. Petra teaches Irish dance and is currently working on her Ph.D dissertation titled The Mating Habits of Blackberries (Upon hearing this, one of our dinner companions will look at her, confused, and say "Wait, what are you doing with phones?") Her flat is busy during my visit. Victor, a couchsurfer from Portugal is here and so is Petra´s best friend, Misha. Prone to bouts of homesickness these days, I think the more the merrier!

Olomouc is a town of around 100,000 people in the Czech Republic´s eastern region, Moravia. Much as I enjoyed Vienna, I usually want a smaller town atmosphere after spending time in a city. Olomouc is home to Palacky University and has the fun, laid back vibe that accompanies such towns. Bookstores, funky boutiques, and low lit cafes stand near baroque fountains and beautiful cathedrals. The contemporary art museum is free on Wednesday (lucky me!). I like the work of Laszlo Feher whos work features simple human figures against a huge canvas of black, yellow, and white. In the afternoon, I climb the stairs of gothic St. Maurice´s church for a cloudy yet still lovely view of the town.

Dinner at Hanacka Hospoda is a hoot. Petra, Victor, Misha, and several students from Palasky university end up staying there laughing and carrying on until closing. Menu items include smoked pig´s knuckle, chicken a la duck (do you really need both at once?), and something called guttery breah of night of lostice. I order sulanky which turns out to be a rather delicious potato dumplings filled with poppy seed dish. Conversation turns to strange things people have eaten and I am dared to eat the fish eye from the guy that ordered the entire fish. Well, I´ve eaten emu, kangaroo, sting ray, snake, and horse on this trip do you think I eat the eye? Of course I do. By the end of the evening we all think we can speak Czech simply by adding "vot" to the end of everything. Petra confirms, however, that there are quite a few czech words where this is true including flirtovot, relaxovot, sportovot, and telephonovot!

I thought the talent show would win for strangest sight in Olomouc. Then I encountered someone in an orange costume that referred to themselves as "Cookie" and thought "no this is the weirdest." The experimantal jazz band at Ponorka bar where the singer read lines from the newspaper was also a contender. But none of those compares to the most random site of all---sitting next to a grocery store, there is an airplane that has been converted into a bar! The sign says "Letka" opens at 9pm but the door is locked when I arrive shortly after that time. I ring the buzzer and a woman comes and opens the cabin door and motions me to come inside. The decor is delightfully lounge-chic with red seats, leather walls, and big black ashtrays atop hexagonal tiled tables. It´s a plane one can imagine Dirk Diggler and Roller girl partying inside. There is even a small dance area with rotating disco light in the back! I cannot decipher a thing on the menu so I just say "beer" and am given a can of Gambrinus and a tall glass for the equivalent of a buck and a half. I wish someone in the place could speak english and explain how this bar came into existence? What is the backstory here?

Shout Outs

Thank you Diana Rossetti and the Canton Repository for running the story about my trip. I also appreciate the encouraging comments from readers. I hope the story inspires more Americans to embark on international travel!

Here´s a link to the story:

http://www.cantonrep.com/carousel/x1560849407/Around-the-world-in-150-days-A-bloggers-tale

Thanks again!

Vienna, Austria

The first thing I do upon arriving in Vienna is contact Anthony, my friend from Utah I met through couchsurfing in Park City last year. Anthony flew on a one-way ticket to Europe in October and subsists as a street trombonist, first in Barcelona and now Vienna. We meet at a coffeehouse near Stephansplatz to catch up. Anthony is well connected in the couchsurfing community and recommends Tobi who previously hosted him.

As charismatic as he is blonde, Tobi is immediately likeable and so are his four flatmates: Kathy, Sophie, Rafael, and Jacob. They live in a large old building near Rochugasse off the U3 line. The red kitchen walls are full of quotes written in chalk by previous visitors. Postcards from latin america decorate the bathroom walls and the common space is a mishmash of everything from musical instruments, random laundry, to Jacobs folding bicycle. I believe couchsurfers should contribute to the household in some way so I take on the role of tidying up by washing dishes and sweeping the floor. After sweeping Tobis bedroom he says "Thank you, Allie, now I will not have to do that for another two years" haha! All the bedrooms feature wood lofts like the ones you see in college dormitories. I sleep in Tobis room because he stays in Sophies room so the room is mostly used for storage. Up in the loft it is impossible to reach the light switch below, so a long walking stick is provided for this purpose.

Tobi´s love of bavarian music cannot be overstated. Until around 10am, the flat is completely silent---then suddenly the music starts and there is Tobi, dancing, and stomping, and singing his heart out. He burned me a cd of his favorites. He also likes to take guests on adventures. One afternoon Tobi, Kathy, and I waded through a channel of the Danube to a grassy island where we drank Weiselburger beer and relaxed in the sunshine. Another evening, he took us to the beautiful rooftop garden of a building that requires a special key (he has this key). We visit the Naschmarket which is full of mouthwatering food and the adjacent flea market which is full of delightful junk. Tobi buys a babushka candle and Sophie finds polka dot boxers for Tobi. I even attend a lecture about organic farming in Kenya at Tobis school, The University for Natural Resources and Applied Life Scienes. Whether it is political discussions with Rafael, enjoying rainbow and chocolate with Kathy, heart to hearts and hugs with Sophie, or laughing with Jacob, my new friends are super interesting and endlessly amusing. We linger over long breakfasts, randomly break into music sessions, and trade ridiculous insults for fun. Apparently, "Your momma doesnt cook with salt" is a pretty loaded phrase in Austria.

I like to play a game called "What happens if I get off on this metro stop?" Stop at Karlsplatz and hear the amplified opening chords of a song in nearby Ressel park. What is better than a free open-air concert? The stage for "Popfest" is set up beneath insanely gorgeous Karlskirche Church. And who is this spritely love child of Leslie Feist and Dolores O'Riordan supplying vocals and rhthym guitar? Her name is Clara Luzia. The band consists of Heidi on cello, Ines on drums, and Max on piano, guitar, and bass. I have plenty of time on my own to explore while my new friends attend classes or work. Transportation options include Vienna´s efficient u-bahn metro and the free tram around the ringstrasse, perfect for gawking at Viennas beautiful architecture. But my favorite is city bike. There are 61 city bike stations scattered throughout central Vienna. After registering with a credit card, you go to a station, swipe your card, and release an available bike. Rates are super reasonable and the first hour is free. After returning the bike to any vacant "bike box", you can wait 15 minutes and the free hour becomes available again. City bike is a fantastic idea and an enjoyable way to explore Vienna. One evening, I ride along the Danube canal to Volksprater, the amusement park east of the canal. The park is a home to a variety of so-tacky-its-cool attractions, such as the Jack the Ripper dark ride. On this Wednesday night, Volksprater is a ghost town devoid of rider´s shrieks or carnie´s calls. "Disneyland After People" I think to myself. I see people inside of snack shops with no customers watching television. A few people are strolling, smoking, and riding the park´s main attraction--the Risengrad (ferris wheel) The Risengrad factors into the plot of one of my favorite romantic movies, Before Sunrise, which was filmed at various locations throughout Vienna. I ride to the top and enjoy the view of Viennas city lights at night.

I could have stayed even longer in Vienna, but my flight from Prague to Amsterdam is quickly approaching on the 20th and there are a few more places I would like to see. Next stop, Olomouc in eastern Czech Republic!

Advice from a Forgetful Traveler

I used to roll my eyes at perfectly organized people with all their systems and overplanning. I was too busy enjoying my life to obsess over every last detail. However, I have since learned to appreciate how a little organization goes a long way in preventing or overcoming travel mishaps. Below are some tips culled from various sources as well as my own experiences.

• Bring two ATM cards, 2 credit cards, and some cash: I left my only ATM card in bank machine in Phuket. Credit cards cash advances, wiring money, or sending a replacement card via courier such as FedEx to a foreign address all cost money. Next time I intend to travel with two ATM cards from seperate checking accounts. If you have an online savings account, such as ING, you can use this as a way of transfering money between accounts. Credit cards and cash are good backups when an ATM is not available.
  

• Make copies of important documents & important numbers: This includes your passport, drivers license, and travel health insurance policy. Carry the international contact numbers for banks and credit cards. Also have your card & bank details accessible in case your card is lost of stolen. Leave a copy of this information with someone you trust back at home.
  

• Get a sim card for a mobile handset with a small amount of credit on it: I use Skype to keep in touch with loved ones, but a cell phone comes in handy when Skype is either unavailable or you do not have time to search for a computer (I am traveling without a laptop) Before leaving America, I suspended my cell phone service but packed my Motorola Razr handset. Then I purchased a local sim card when it was practical. (You will need un "unlocked" device for this to work. If your phone is locked, buy one on eBay or at your destination if basic cell phones tend to be cheap there) In Austria, a local sim card came in handy when I wanted to call my friend Andy and no interet cafes were nearby to skype. It helped me again when I left my credit card in a bike rental kiosk. It took one minute to call and put the card on hold to prevent unauthorized transactions (When I finally made it back to that particular kiosk the card was still there. Thank you kind citizens of Vienna for not stealing it! Good karma is yours!)
  

• How to get un-lost: Take a business card from your hotel or hostel and tuck it in you wallet. If you wander far away and have no idea how to even pronounce the name of where you are staying, you can show it to a driver who will. This was so helpful in Asia and the ride was usually only a dollar or two. I also use my digital camera to take pictures of street names, landmarks, etc. so I can show people where I want to go when asking directions. Associating a familiar word with a foreign makes it easier to remember. For example, while staying on Kubekgasse street, I thought of it as "Stanley Kubrik street."
  

• Remain optimistic: Get over the fear of looking stupid. Ask for help when you need it. It continues to amaze me how many people are willing to help (and speak some english too!) Take setbacks in stride. Sometimes there are just days when everything goes wrong. Frustrating at the time, these experiences often make the best travel stories and teach you the most.
  

Bratislava, Slovakia

After picking me up at the Bratislava bus station, Marcela drives us back to he flat. We ride up the communist era buliding in a tiny 3 person elevator. The inside of her place is more welcoming, all hardwood floors, serene tones, and cozy spaces. My friend Lucia is from Bratislava and suggested I get in touch with Marcela. Marcela and her husband, Zoli, are friendly and I like them immediately. We sip slivovica, a kind of plum brandy, and flip through photos albums from her wedding and honeymoon in Jackson Hole. Lunch is brydzove halusky (gnocci with sheep cheese) at Koliba restaurant where we discuss Slovakia during the communist regime. They talk of elders waiting in line hours for food rations and the limited selection available. However, not everyone saw the economic transition from communism entirely positive. According to Zoli, some of the older generation never really adapted to the post-communist system and consequently feel lost in modern Slovakia.

We visit Red Stone Castle which just happens to feature actors role-playing the castle´s previous inhabitants on this particular day. The highlight of the outing, however, is the falcon area. I learn several interesting facts abou falcons such as how the mother often lays two eggs and kills the weaker bird shortly after birth, yikes that´s harsh! The audience oohs and ahhs as the falcon handlers entice the birds with small pieces of meat. The falcons glide right over us to fetch the food. One brushes agains the top of my head!

The next day, Marcela and I explore old town Bratislava. One fun thing to do is find all the quirky statues there such as the watcher, the photographer, and the man at work. The man at work is my favorite because next to him is a street performer dressed just like him. Cute! My favorite spot in town is a crumbling building where the windows hae been replaced with various recreations of Van Gough paintings. We eat Verdict and Marcela shows me The Diablo Bar where our mutual friend, Lucia used to work! We miss you Lucia!

Marcela and I meet up with her friend Annie to walk around the border town of Devin, where the Morana and Danube rivers meet. This town is signifigant because across the river is Austria and during communism that meant "freedom." There used to be a guarded fence running along the river and you might be shot trying to cross it! With Marcela agreeing to drive, Annie and I indulge in some "Tatras Tea" in the nearby cafe before heading to Bratislavas castle for an aerial view of the city. My last night in Slovakia is spent laughing over food and drink with Marcela, Zoli, and Annie back at the apartment. Thank you Marcela and Zoli for the wonderful hospitality and I hope you will return to Jackson someday for another visit!

Budapest, Hungary

The train from Ljubljana to Budapest passes fields of bright yellow canola flowers. Surrounded by green grass and a blue sky, the scene is striking. I meet a Slovenian couple in the carriage next door. Anya co-owns a gallery with her brother and Yarenay is working on a project to turn a collection of comic books into a cartoon. They live together in Lake Bled and are visiting Budapest for the weekend. We end up talking for most of the journey. I discover they are staying at a hostel called Paprika and decide I will stay there as well if they still have vacancies. They do!

Some interesting new friends I meet include:

• James from the UK who makes declarations such as "I´m not going to be happy until I go home with a love child"and sentences that start with "There´s nothing worse than___" Practicality, being left-handed, and people that refuse to join facebook fall into this category. James has an astounding range of knowledge when it comes to music, and he is not the least bit modest about this talent. Because there is nothing worse than modesty, obviously. James and I wander around Budapest, discussing disappointing ends to otherwise enjoyable movies as we cross the Szchenyi Chain Bridge.
  

• Andi owns Paprika hostel. She has a mischeivious cat named Tiger who has a penchant for climbing up on the roof and mewing when he´s stuck. Tiger had to be resuced twice during my three day visit alone. Andi just started running and we enjoyed a leisurely run together on Margaret Island, one of the islands on the Danube in Budapest.
  

• Felix works at Paprika. He is originally from Melbourne and teases me about my American accent. He introduces me to the best gyro I have ever eaten at the House of Hummus and does a fantastic impression of a frustrated Italian in front of Saint Stephans Basilica. Felix rounds up the guests for an evening at Morrisons Music Pub. I am usually not one for clubbing, this place is pretty interesting with its multiple level bars and dance floors. We all end up having a rolicking good time. I tore it up to some Lady Gaga, let me tell you.

In a traditional tourist sense, I did not take advantage of all Budapest has to offer. I only visited a few of its gorgeous buildings such as my favorite, the Museum of Applied Arts being my favorite. Nor did I soak in a thermal bath, another supposed Budapest must. (Although other guests said the best outdoor ones were uncomfortably hot this time of year) All I can say is long term travel definitely changes how you spend your time. It becomes exhausting to flit from one must see to the next. Sometimes, I want to gaze upon a beautiful scene and share that with another person. Sometims I just want to chill out, eat some greek salad and goulash, and watch a movie. Sure enough, by the time I move on from Budapest, my homesickness has subsided a bit. Thank you Paprika hostel friends!

Slovenia

I see Tine waving at me the moment I step off the train in Ljubljana. Our connetion is through mutal friends back in Ohio. Tine belives that any friend of Eric and Becky is a friend of his, and so I am fortunate to have a charasmatic guide show me around Slovenia! We drive thirty minutes to his home in Duplej village. The houses in Duplej are constructed with the expectation that they will house multiple generations. Tines house has the feel of two studio apartments stacked on top of one another with his mom, Dragi, living on the first floor and Tine on the second. Dragi gives me a room next to hers on the first floor which is furnished with a large bed, two toasty duvets and a beat-up acoustic guitar. Love it.

After a delicious dinner of goulash, potato bits called noki, beets drizzled with pumpkin oil and red wine from the Primorsa region, Tine drives us to the nearby town of Kranj. We walk around, passing a hare krishna street band and the statue of France Preseren, Slovenias national poet. Back at the house, we sip chai and play Slovenia the board game. The object of the game is to visit all the destinations on the cards you draw before the other players. The rulebook states "We wish you a pleasant journey and do not forget that it does not count so much who the winner is. It is important that you learn mroe about Slovenia through this game." Ha, so cute. As I prepare for bed, Dragi hears me blowing my nose (this is a result of a cat allergy). She urges me to knock back a shot of Domaci Brenjevece for good health. This berry concoction is 40% alcohol and produces a pleasant sort of burn in my throat.

The sky sprinkles rain as we drive to Piran the next morning but relents once we arrive. Boats involved in a regatta race by. Old women peek out from behind curtained windows. Children kick a ball in a courtyard near the coastal path. Then I see a parade! Apparently, we have caught Pirans annual Solinarski Prazink (Salt Festival) which includes elements of traditional dress, music, and dance. Teenagers dressed in red velvet coats twirl blue patterned flags as they march down the street behind the drummers. We climb up the bell tower overlooking Tartini market. Tubas play a jaunty tune while couples dance. Lastovce birds fly above remnants of a castle to my left and the orange village rooftops to my right. Tine explains the roofs are angled and sealed specifically to handle burja, the strong winds Piran encounters.

We wind down a pathwhere bouquets of herbs adorn heavy wooden doors to the rose-coloerd Berecanka building, adjacent to Tartini Square. The market is busy with merchants selling wine, jewelry, soap, food, and various trinkets. I sample dried pears, figs, and homemade bread. Yum! For lunch, we split a platter of prosciutto, crusty bread olives, and sheep cheese accompanied by refosk wine. I love the cafe culture in Europe and how you can simply meander down a street until you find a place you want to eat--no driving required!

After Piran, we stop a the Skojan Cave area. Tours of the caves have closed for the day so we like to a lovely viewpoint past bori trees and preserved village buildings. The signposts are all in Slovenian so Tine translates. I joke that he could tell me they say just about anything and I would have to take his word for it. I enjoy looking a the karst formations and the rushing Reka river below. Slovenia is so beautiful! I love how accessible diverse landscapes are in this small country.

We spend the next day at Lake Bled. A rowing competition is taking place here. Fans cheer "Shimala, shimala, dai dai!" (almost there, come on come on!) We walk around the lake, admiring Bled's fortress high atop a rock formation. Boats ferry visitors to the lake's island church. Tine laughs a how often I am so struck by the scenery that I must stop to take a photo, write in my journal, or simply star in awe at the beauty before me. The karavanke mountains are particularly stunning today with tendrils of snow falling from icy peaks against a cloudless blue sky. I see many affectionate couples, both young and old. Tine's view on public displays of affection: "Americans are too limited. They say 'get a room' to couples kissing and hugging but in Europe no one would ever say that. In America, there is more talk about relationships and less action."

I'm rockin' out to the Slovenian version of Age of Aquarious as we drive a winding road framed by thin trees with lime green leaves. We hike to astonishingly beautiful Savica waterfall. Begin with a karst that touches the sky. Follow a diagonal path downward until you meet a double waterfall that cascades into a listerine-colored pool before plunging again over speckled rocks into the curvaceous river below. We wrap up the day exploring and relaxing at Bohinj where lovely cottages surround its lake.

Tine has to work during the weekdays and drops me off in Ljubljana for two of them. This city is home to about 200,000 residents--a perfect bite size capital for the likes of me. I walk past the Dragon bridge and the open-air market where merchants sell everything from shoes, to fresh flowers, to I feel slovenia shirts. I love the whimsy of this place. I see three people dressed in strange costumes handing out flyers for an event at a children's bookstore. Later on a woman rides by on an over-sized tricycle and hands me a newspaper. And I finally see the women wearing wacky, patterned tights like Marty mentioned he saw in Prague. I want some!

A gravel path leads up to Ljubljana's castle. It is also possible to reach by funicular, but the day is such a perfect temperature I feel compelled to hike it. I visit the free art exhibit in the castle's kazemate, an area previously used as a prison. The cool, cave-like, and dimly lit atmosphere lends an eerie aura to Rafael Samer's "Revelation." Most of the sculpted wax is geometric. Positioned atop a bed of woodchips, the metallic-hued cubes make me think I have stumbled upon a cache of alien presents within a dark forest. A higher platform displays a ring of perfectly formed golden roses. In between the two, a connecting platform holds a series of black wax boxes. I can't begin to guess what it all means but that is why art is so fun. There are as many perspectives as there are people.

Tine meets up with me after work and we stroll through Tivoli Park where there is an open-air photo exhibit about Slovenia's cave exploration history. I marvel at blown up photos of strange animals, such as the olm which has no pigment or eyes and senses heat with its body. There are couples lying on blankets in the grass, overturned bikes next to them. Tine challenges me to eat horse, so we order horse burgers at a joint called Hot Horse in the middle of the park. It is a bit tougher than a typical burger but not unpleasant. Dessert is Kremsnita, a blonde tiramisu sort of concoction that Tine promises will "knock my socks out." Mmm, it sure does!

The morning I leave for Budapest, I am a bit sad. I have so enjoyed getting to know Tine, his family, and gorgeous Slovenia I already feel attached to it.

Plitvice Lakes National Park, Croatia

Other than a minor collision with a cow, my journey over the Bosnian-Croatia border near Bihac is uneventful. The van drops Marty and I in Grabovac, a tiny town about 8 km from the entrance to Plitvice Lakes National Park. Plitvice is surrounded by the Lika mountains and boasts sixteen lakes, forest trails, and countless waterfalls. It's a dynamic place where algae, moss, and the sedimentation of calcium carbonate work to continually change the natural features. The lakes colors can appear blue or green depending on the amount of travertine deposits in the water. I cannot wait to experience this place!

The most centrally located hotel is too pricey, so we start walking toward a cluster of houses nearby where we saw several "Sobe" (rooms) signs during the ride into town. We are delighted to find Lou who speaks great English and has a large room with two beds, hardwood floors, a nice bathroom and free wi-fi for 15 euros per person. Lou's husband kindly offers to drive us to the park entrance on his way to work tomorrow at 7:30am. Fantastic!

I wake to a chilly, overcast day but I am not deterred. The park is just opening as we arrive. At 110 kuna (about $20 usd) the entry fee is a little pricey but that also includes boat rides across two of the largest lakes. Marty, awesome friend that he is, holds my bag so I can go for a run, unencumbered. We agree to meet up later but we are not specific enough about our meeting place and end up running into each other out of sheer luck at the boat dock!

I feel amazing while running. It is one of those days where I feel like I could run forever. I want to explore as much of this unique landscape as possible. Waterfalls are everywhere. Long, wispy trickles. Thick, rushing flows. Tiny cascades right by my feet. They feed into lakes that are green today. Some are emerald while others look like green tea. I spot a small black salamander with orange spots between planks of the wooden walkway and another along the forested "K" trail. I pause at a particularly stunning viewpoint and savor some time of pure peace.

After hours of running and hiking, Marty and I are exhausted. The weather is also changing and rain is imminent. We hike back to the parks entrance. I sleep most of the way to Zagreb, Croatia's capital city. We stay at Buzz Backpackers, staffed by super sweet Andrea, who gives us the web discount even though we did not book in advance. Tomorrow Marty and I will part ways--he heads to Belgrade, Serbia and I am off to Ljubljana, Slovenia. We spent this last evening eating pizza, joking around, and sharing pictures. The next morning, Andrea makes crepes and of course we discuss American verses Croatian life. You might think this conversation gets old but I am having it with people from around the world, therefore receiving a new perspective each time. Andrew worked in the United States for a few years and enjoyed it but she prefers the slower pace of life near the Mediterranean. "Sometimes when you have too many choices it can make you frustrated and unhappy" she observes. Very true, my friend. However, when it comes to the delights of Europe, I am enjoying being spoiled for choice!

Beguiling Bosnia

I am happy to see Marty when the bus pulls into Mostar. By his side is Lena and they both accompany me to her hostel nearby. Marty and I visit Mostar's most famous site--the Ottoman-style Stari Most bridge. The bridge was destroyed during the war but was completely rebuilt (with its "original" flaws and all) in 2004. I pass a cemetery. The date of birth engraved on the headstones varied, but the second date was almost universally 1994.

We find a cafe called Cafe ABC where I am ecstatic to find some lasagna with actual vegetables in it. Happy day! But I do try an authentic Bosnian meal as well--chicken legs with onions, tomatoes, and a piece of thick bread that feels like a cross between pita and naan.

We board a train bound for Sarajevo. The green-blue river is a mirror reflecting towering mountain peaks. My open window allows a cool evening breeze to circulate inside the train. I haven't been on a train since my journey from Greymouth to Christchurch in New Zealand. I almost forgot how much I love train travel--zooming through tunnels, clattering along the tracks, transfixed by an idyllic landscape out the window. The woman next to me works on a crossword puzzle. How can she concentrate on such an activity with these divine rock outcroppings that stretch from the riverbank to the clouds?

"My girl, I am making a pie for you." These are the first words I hear as I open my eyes the following morning and see Jasmina standing near near my hostel bed. Minutes later she reappears with a potato pie that is both filling and delicious. Afterward, Marty and I set off to visit the Tunnel Museum near Sarajevo's airport. We duck inside a bullet-scarred house and sit on ammunition crates to watch a movie about the tunnels function during the 1992-1995 war. Built in 1993, the tunnel was 800m long, 1m wide, and 1.6m tall. It was outfitted with rails to move carts of supplies quickly. Bosnian Serbs blocked access to the capital on 3 sides of Sarajevo. The fourth side was controlled by the U.N. and where the tunnel was built. The museum also contains artifacts from the war including weapons, shovels, aid packages, a gurney, and photos depicting damage to downtown Sarajevo buildings. It is amazing to think that just 15 years ago, this tunnel was the only artery into Sarajevo.

The quaint Bascarsijla (old city area) is full of cute boutiques and cool sites such as the Latin Bridge, Eternal Flame, and several mosques. Battle-scarred buildings stand near trendy cafes and interesting public art. A child plays an accordion on the street, hoping a few coins will be tossed his way. Catholic churches, Orthodox churches, and Synagogues coexist here. Colorful buildings sit atop hills encircling the city. Perhaps it is due to the fact that I am visiting in the spring instead of the summer, but the streets are uncrowded and the pace unhurried here.

However, two days in any city is enough for me. I am ready to return to the trails for some gorgeous runs!

Dubrovnik, Croatia

An official at the Montenegro/Croatia border crossing empties the entire contents of my backpack and laughs when he finds my tampons. What is up with that? I am the last one through the line and it takes me so long to put everything back in my pack that the bus almost leaves without me. It is already moving when I sprint to catch up with it and hop in. That was a close one!

Several people are waiting to show me their available rooms when I arrive at the Dubrovnik bus station. Sanya is the most aggressive and gets my business because she has a private room available for 80 Kuna (about $15 usd and a good price in this town) However, I later regret staying with her when I meet Sado who owns the Begovec hostel. He claims Sanya the "crazy, gypsy woman" once beat him with an umbrella to deter him from competing with her business! I like Sado's gentle demeanor and decide to stay with him the next night. After he gives me tea and a croissant, Sado shows me the shells that fell in the hostel's garden during the war. Amazingly, the hostel remained open during that time! I make a new friend named Marty. He is headed to Mostar and I tell him I will be there the next day and maybe we will see each other.

On my way to Dubrovnik's Stari Grad, I meet Harold from Norway. Harold is on a tour of the Balkans with thirty other people from his former workplace. He is the one who informs me about the volcano eruption in Iceland and how it has suspended air traffic throughout Europe. Wow, the events I miss not speaking the language or watching television!

I stroll through Pile Gate then ascend the steps on my left to Dubrovnik's ancient city walls. This pathway leads you around the perimeter of Old Town, offering sublime views of the sparkling Adriatic sea. A bird glides above a sea of slanted, orange rooftops. Laundry hangs on a line near the green wooden shutters of a peeling building. Men crouch on the rocks below, fishing as glass-bottomed boats float by. I hear laughter, conversation, and the clinking of silverware from diners at seaside cafes. Potted plants sit on rooftop terraces surrounded by fragrant orange and lemon trees. It is a perfect sunny day in a fairytale castle!

I walk around the Stradun taking photographs of whatever catches my attention. A child of about 2 runs around outside Rector's Palace. A man who is not his father picks him up, hugs him, then sets him down again. The little boy's mother is not fazed by this stranger's affection. I get the impression Croatia does not share America's intense child molestation/abduction fears. I watch two elderly ladies walk arm and arm and two teenage boys kick a soccer ball back and forth. A group of boys sit in a line on the Onofrio Fountain checking out the girls passing by. There are baroque churches to lean on and ocean views to marvel at. There is a maze of crumbling walls to wander and patches of sunlight to bask in. And there are too many tempting desserts trying to entice me! Walking around this breezy, gorgeous city it is hard to believe almost 70% of Old Town's 824 buildings were hit by shells in the early 1990s. Thankfully, everything has since been restored, using the original materials and techniques whenever possible. Visitors have been pouring into this lovely city ever since!

Montenegro

Getting from Shkodra, Albania to Ulcinj, Montenegro is a bit frustrating. Supposedly there is a 3pm bus to Ulcinj but it never shows up in front of the red building next to the bank (there is no official bus station) Some taxi drivers say the bus comes at 4 while others deny its existence entirely and offer to take me over the border for 10 euros instead. Eventually I find a driver who charges just 5 euros (same price as the bus) and we're off. The road to Ulcinj is beautiful in a moody, coastal Oregon type of way. An hour and a half later, he drops me off in the center of town. I am starving so I walk into the first place I see--Cafe Piramida. The majority of Ulcinj's population is Albanian and the entire menu is in Montenegrin and Albanian except for the word "hamburger." Normally, I would take a chance and point to something on the menu (I ate snake, remember?) but I am too hungry to be experimental today. They serve it on some kind of ciabatta bread and it is delicious.

I walk along the windy coast then turn left to find the lodging I read about just a few minutes away from the beach. Score! I am staying in a private suite with a large bed, private bath, and kitchenette I negotiated for 10 euros. Accommodation Milla is owned by a couple in their 70s and their two sons "Tony" and "Jimmy" help them run it. I notice Tony is walking funny as he shows me to my room.

Me: "Don't worry, I can find it. It looks like it hurts for you to walk down the stairs."
Tony: "I did not get hurt, I just broke both legs in a car accident in Chicago. I do not want to move to Chicago."

Tony cracks me up. My stay includes free internet on the family computer. It's an odd scene as I check my email while Tony's family watches the Albanian version Who wants to be a millionaire and Tony hovers over my shoulder, watching me type. He tries to get me to eat copious amounts of russian salad and drink coca cola instead of water because "water's boring." His family is super nice and tells me check out is "whatever time I like."

Walking to the bus station, a light rain gives way to a torrential downpour. I am soaked as I board a northbound bus. Despite the rotten weather, there is no denying Montenegro is beautiful. I hop out and indulge in a piece of cherry and pineapple cake at Hotel Adriatic which overlooks the beautiful island of Sveti Stefan. Sveti Stefan is an odd place--it is an tiny resort island connected to the main land by a sand isthmus. It used to be a popular hangout for celebrities in the 70s but at present time is closed and it is unknown when it will reopen. After my amazing cake with a view, I bus to Budva.

The rain picks up again as I wander Budva's Stari Grad (Old Town) area. I see a pair of friends walking together under a large umbrella and I am struck by a pang of homesickness. I am lonely and walking around in the cold rain. Poor me. But the day improves from there. A woman suddenly pops out of a boutique and says "Are you looking for the hostel?" Ummm...sure? I was not planning on staying in Budva but as it is pouring rain exploring town is not a very appealing option. Minutes later I an ensconced in thick blankets in the privacy of my own room since no one else checks in to the other beds! I take a warm bath and watch Montenegro's VH1 which is much better than ours because they play all the awesome music videos from the 80s and 90s without interruption from crap shows. Around 7pm the rain finally ceases and I emerge to tour the cool churches nearby. Afterward, I walk the coastal path where I meet Bobba and Nikki from Hungary. Nikki speaks very little English, but Bobba is fluent from the time she spent living in London. They are taking this roadtrip before Bobba begins a new job working as a waitress on a cruise ship in Orlando. They have a car and before I know it we have made plans to tour the Bay of Kotor together tomorrow. Yay!

Kotor was busier than I expected, with multiple tour groups bustling through the Stari Grad. However, the crowds thinned out once we began the ascent of St. John mountain through the fortifications. I love seeing the ramparts, towers, and gates and the view of the bay below is surreal. Dark mountains shrouded by tufts of cloud soar above cerulean waters and crayola green grass. Hiking through these postcard landscapes never seems to lose its magic for me.

We continue around the bay and view two islands. The monks live on one and the nuns on the other. I wonder if they ever visit one another on special occasions? We listen to Hungarian gypsy music, which Bobba attempts to translate. "This guy has a devil in a box and the devil keeps moving the more he shakes the box," she explains. "How about this one?" I ask. "This guy is saying that after you fulfill one dream, you need to find another dream." I like that.

Rushing waterfalls, crumbling buildings, and breathtaking views of the bay make for a wonderful day. After exchanging information, the girls kindly drop me off in Herceg Novi, a town near the Montenegro/Croatian border. I tell the woman in the tourism office adjacent to the bus station the price I want to pay for lodging and she phones a local woman for me to stay with. Nga is an adorable grandmother who dotes on her 9-month old grandson she refers to as "the Inspector." The baby has huge, inquisitive blue eyes and I spend some time playing with him that evening.
It has been over three months since the conclusion of my nanny job and I miss being around children!

Albania

The bus ride from Meteora to Berat, Albania is a ten hour overnight journey through winding, pot-holed roads. It's 8:30am when I ask the driver to drop me off at Hotel Palma then walk across the footbridge and up the cobblestone path to Berat Backpackers. I open the large wooden door to a beautiful veranda overlooking the white ottoman houses the town is famous for and the rushing Osum river. The hostel is as silent as a tomb. The empty eight-person dorm has hardwood floors and butter colored walls. I toss my pack on a lower bunk near the window and search for someone that works here. I hear someone stirring in the room next door and knock on the door. Moments later, a short blonde girl comes out and introduces herself as Louisa. I learn that Louisa and her boyfriend Joe are Brits traveling from London to Australia over the next yera. The hostel owner, Scoti, offered them free room and board in exchange for work at the hostel. They are a really cute couple and I like them immediately. Berat Backpackers is a great deal--10 euros buys you a bed, breakfast, and a lounge furnished with music that I load onto my ipod (hooray for new music!)

I change some euros into the Albanian currency, lek, and set off to explore the remains of Berat Castle, Kalasa. Walking up the steep cobblestone path, I pass two men prodding a pack horse up the hill! I enjoy the area, especially the lovely Byzantine church but what really interests me is the adjacent hillside where I find several mushroom-shaped concrete bunkers. Around 700,000 of these bunkers were built during former dictator Enver Hoxha's reign as protection against possible invasion. They are extremely difficult to destroy and so in recent years some people have tried to make the best of their prescence by painting them in fun colors. Strange as they are, they are a connection to Albania's past. Walking back down the hill I visit the Ethnographic Museum filled with artifacts from Albanian history including clothing and tools. I find the recreated traditional Albanian home most interesting as it reveals Albania's very patriarchal past. The main bedroom for men and guests is large and somewhat lavish with animal skin blankets and fancy flatware on a low table. The women, however, stay in a separate spartan room up a nearby staircase.

My four days in Berat are filled with exploring during the day and relaxing with Lousia, Joe, and the cast of characters that arrive each night. A french guy introduces us to bands such as Balkan Beat Box and the No Smoking Orchestra which he describes as"Turbo Folk."
"What are the songs about" I ask. "Mostly about Serbians drinking and losing your wives" he replies. Well, it's certainly more interesting than the top 40 back home! One night, Vinko makes us crepes. Another night Brian, the new chef who hails from Houston, whips up an amazing stirfry for all of us.

One day, I walk across the footbridge to the other side of the river intending to visit St. Michael's church only to find it locked. A girl in the house next door introduces herself as Luciana and asks me if I want to take a walk to a lookout point. Her two sisters, Nela and Simoni, accompany us and by the time we reach the top, a huge rainbow has formed across the late afternoon sky. Simoni picks a bouquet of wildflowers for me from behind their house, a gesture I find very touching. Luciana invites me inside where I meet her parents. Their mother serves me homemade cherry liquier and they tell me their dream of moving to Boston. They ask me about my work, traveling, and living in America. "Every Albanian wants to move to America" Luciana says. As a visitor to Berat, I see the beautiful architecture, meet hospitable people, and run the hilly terrian. But to Luciana's family sees a country with few jobs and opportunities so they want to move on. At the end of the visit, we exchange emails and promise to keep in touch. I am definitely curious to see what life has in store for them!

Greece

After an eleven hour flight from Bangkok, I enter Athens exhausted but happy. A cool breeze accompanies me as I walk from Syngatma square to my hostel, Athens Backpackers. I check in and pick up the letter containing my new ATM card. I'm so happy it made it safe and sound!

I walk along a pedestrian street lined with cafes, shops, and street musicians to the Acropolis. It is wonderful and strange to be standing in the middle of such lauded history. Below me, I see the Theater of Herod Atticus, a beautiful space still used for concerts today. The Temple of Olympian Zeus rises in the distance. I stroll around the Parthenon. This structure is amazing in that the columns are specifically curved in such a way that they look perfectly straight. The sprawling city of Athens looks beautiful from this vantage point, a sea of white buildings ringed by lush green hills. The only downside to a site like the Acropolis is you have to share it with droves of tour groups, teenagers on school trips, tired children, etc. Like my experience at Angkor Wat, I realize this traffic is par for the course and just accept this is part of such a world-renowned site. Other highlights of Athens include wandering through the markets of Monastiraki and visiting a bouzouki shop. The bouzouki is a pear-shaped instrument similar to a mandolin popular in Greek music. Andy shows me bouzoukis in various sizes, styles, and colors and plays a little for me. Cool!

After two days in Athens, I've had enough of the big city and long for nature. Six hours on a KTEL bus brings me to Trikala. Another short ride and I reach Meteora where rock formations dominate the morning sky. Meteora is famous for its Byzantine monasteries perched atop pillars of rock. It is comprised of two villages--Kalambaka is the larger one while Kastriki is tiny and closer to the mountains. I ask to be dropped in Kastriki's town center so I can scope out my lodging options on foot. The air is chilly and silent as I walk along the winding until I see a campground called Camping the Cave. "Yasas," I call inside an open door. A man answers "Hello!" I'm excited someone speaks enough English to communicate! Apostolos offers me cake and a magenta hard boiled egg.

me: "Mmm, what is this called?" I ask munching the crumbly dessert.
Apostolos: "Cake."
me: "I mean, what kind of cake is it?"
Apostolos: "Greek cake"

I never do find out the name but its delicious and Apostolos will offer it to me every day. I decide to stay in a defunct camper on the premises for 10 euros a night. It's a little musty inside but comes equipped with six fluffy blankets to keep me warm during the chilly nights. The campground is an odd place with a chatty macaw parrot, a pony for riding, and several dogs in residence. A sign reads "Please keep the pool clean. Don't use sun oil. Not spit. Don't pee. Be quiet. Not nose blowing."

"Well, I'm off to explore" I tell Apostolos. "Wait 20 minutes. I call Yannis; he will drive you." I say I don't have much money to pay for such a service but thanks anyway. "It's free, he does work for me sometime." So I end up having my own personal driver to The Monastery of the Holy Trinity (Agia Triada in Greek). Fun Fact: this monastery was used as the base by villain Aris Kristasos in the James Bond flick For Your Eyes Only. I thank Yannis for the ride and we agree to meet up later. It's a lovely structure with its terra cotta tiled floors, arched doorways and wood beam ceilings. One room is covered in frescos which surround thirteen intricately carved wood chairs. I large brass candle holder hangs from the dome ceiling. A light blue cable car ferries the two monks in residence to and from the entrance. Unfortunately, visitors are forbidden to use it.

The evening before Easter, Yannis takes me to Kastriki's town square where everyone gathers at the base of the church. Everyone holds candles and listens to the priest perform some kind of ceremony. At midnight the church bells clang and fireworks crackle across the night sky. What a magical way to ring in Easter!

When I open the camper door on Easter morning, it is already smoky from the villagers cooking their lamb. I follow Yannis's directions to the path that leads to Holy Spirit mountain. Walk past the church and turn right behind the old white school. Follow path to rose-colored house where it becomes a dirt path behind it. Climb over rocks and trail continues all the way up the mountain. I hike to the top of Holy Spirit mountain where the summit offers a panoramic view. In front of me the snow-covered Pindos mountains rise in the distance. Behind me, sunlight shines through pillars of rock. And below, music wafts up from the villages on a cool and soft wind. I am flooded with complete happiness! I meditate, journal, and laze in the sunshine until I feel like coming down. Later on, I fill my hungry belly with lamb, greek salad, yogurt, and crusty bread. I usually do not include much meat in my diet but for some reason it appeals to me here!

I spend four blissful days in Meteora. I trail run the outskirts of the villages. I laugh with Apostolos's son, Bill, who loves to listen to Michael Jackson on my ipod and tell me about his favorite movie "the Shrek." I visit two more gorgeous monasteries--Rousanou and St. Nicholas. I eat zucchini with garlic dip and Greek salads filled with juicy tomatoes and crispy cucumbers at Taverna Gardenia. I roam the streets of Kalambaka and people watch from my perch near the fountains. I drink too much wine and call friends from the All Time cafe. Meteora means "in the heavens above." It certainly felt like it.

Europe--only 2 months left!

It's hard to believe it's already April! I arrived in Athens, Greece early yesterday morning. My hostel is just a few minutes walk away from the Acropolis and other ancient archeological sites! Temperatures are in the 60s, a welcome departure from boiling southeast asia. There are many aspects of Europe I am looking forward to experience but living on the euro for the next two months in not one of them! Internet cafes are pricey, therefore, I will blogging less frequently while in this region of the world to save some coin. 

The tentative plan is to move north along the Adriatic coast as follows: Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Slovenia, and then cut through Austria to Slovakia and finally the Czech Republic. I fly from Prague to Amsterdam May 20. 

Have a wonderful Easter and I will be in touch soon! 

Ho Chi Mihn City: War Remnants & Reunification

I only spent a day and a half in Ho Chi Mihn City, but I did have a chance to visit both the War Remants Museum and the Reunification Palace. After touring the Killing Fields and Genocide Museum in Cambodia, I thought I might have developed some tolerance for the disturbing images by now but this was not the case. I weeped at the photos of the massacre at My Lai. Vietmanese babies form with deformaties caused by Agent Orange and other defoliants sprayed during the war. One possible effect of exposure to this chemical are limbs that look extremely shriveled. When Laura and I were having lunch, I noticed a man slowly scooting across the street on his butt. His non-functional legs had the same strange emaciated look to them. This is just a host of terrible ailments related to defoliant exposure. America used over 70 million liters of toxic chemicals defoliants inflicted extensive damage to people, communities, and land during the Vietnam War. The War Remnants certainly speaks from the Vietnamese point of view, however, many of the photographs and stories are derived from American publications such as Time and Life magazines.

Other interesting/ heartbreaking areas of the museum include:

-The Imprisonment System section, where I learned how south vietnam used tiny "tiger cages" to imprison north vietnamese soldiers. The confined space was so small, some prisoners suffered permanent injuries to their limbs.

-Posters and pictures around the world from international anti-war movements.

-Weapons used by America on display outside the museum including a B.52 bomber plane, tanks, and a seismic bomb that causes destruction within a 100m radius.

We followed War Remnants with a visit to Reunification Palace. The Reunification Palace is an eerie place frozen in time ever since the North Vietnmanese tanks bulldozed through the iron gates in 1975 and "Saigon" was renamed "Ho Chi Mihn City." The rooms are still decorated in the same decor. I especially enjoyed the telecommunications center in the basement--a network of claustrophobic tunnels displaying spartan surroundings, huge radio transistors, and rotary phones.

Fearing bag snatchers, cantankerous tuk tuk drivers, and a city littered with trash, I found Ho Chi Mihn much safer, cleaner, and easier to manage than I expected. Of course, my hotel was in Pham New Lao the backpacker district where travelers every whim is catered to. Many hotels offer free internet access, breakfast, and cable television for under $15. If you don't like a particular one, walk for two minutes and someone else will call out to you to check out their room. Stores stock seemingly every type of bootlegged media--dvds, Lonely Planet guidebooks, popular novels--it's all here. One unique store, Propaganda Posters, sells posters from the Vietnam War era. An English translation appears in the right hand corner of each one such as "If Ho Chi Mihn says it is victory, it is victory" and "4000 American planes shot down."

My brief stay in Ho Chi Mihn City wraps up my week-long tour of southern Vietnam. Despite some tummy troubles, overall I enjoyed my experiences in this region of the world. The Vietnamese people of the Mekong river delta region were kind, welcoming, and curious. I hope tourism helps Vietnam achieve a more prosperous future.

Biking Ben Tre

It was at Ben Tre that the Viet Cong ambushed the Army of the Republic of Vietnam during the Tet Offensive. So the town probably doesn't leap into people's minds as a viable vacation spot. Over 40 years later, Ben Tre is a picturesque river town best viewed from the seat of a bike.

A town of about 100,000 residents, Ben Tre is more laid than Chau Doc and Can Tho. No one hassled us about a moto ride when we arrived at the bus station; we had to hunt one down ourselves! Our guesthouse, Phuong Hoang, has a breezy terrace overlooking lovely Truc Giang Lake. The man-made lake is ringed by trees,cafes, and quirky trash cans shaped like penguins.

Besides the manufacturing of coconut candy, Ben Tre does not possess any specific tourist draws. I enjoy walking around town observing people engaging in their everyday lives without the hassles that plague more touristed towns. Many residents appear to have a higher socioeconomic status here than in Chau Doc or Can Tho. There are the merchants stooped over their wares at markets but locals playing volleyball, children painting pictures, and adults exercising by the lake are also visible. It is probably because tourism is still new in Ben Tre that people stare at Laura and I everywhere we go. Children call out "Hello!" to us, breaking into grins and giggles when we answer.

Best meal award goes to Nam Son restaurant, which serves plump shrimp, and a variety of tasty veggies along with the best pepper I've ever had over a bed of rice. At the local market, I purchase an entire pineapple, already carved and ready to eat for about 30 cents. And the grocery store even have Snickers!

One morning we rent (the only!) two wobbly bikes from the town's sleepy tourist building. We cross the bridge away from the urban area into the rustic settlement on the other side of the Mekong. Palm fronds brush the top of my head as I wind along narrow pathways and concrete bridges over muddy waters. Children dressed in school uniforms amble by, dogs lounge in a patch of sun, and women chat while leaning against their bicycles. I see stacks of coconuts on the riverbank and trees heavy with prickly jackfruit. Some of the homes consist of the typical thatch construction I've seen but others are sturdy cottages painted in pastel colors. We discover a lovely yellow temple in the woods, decorated with wood carved swans. Pedaling beneath the clear blue sky and lush landscape, I am flooded with happiness from the simple pleasures of Ben Tre.

Can Tho

Upon entering the most disgusting bathroom of my life (hole dark brown from recent deposit, wet floor, clammy air, adjacent to a cement block filled with dead flies floating on top of putrid water) I discover a rottweiler is chained in the stall next door, barking ferociously. Laura, outside, says he's chained but neither of us is sure how long the chain is. I peek from behind the door and see his snarling snout to my left. Terrified, I take a deep breath, open the door, and sprint toward the van. He barks in a frenzy, teeth gnashing but the metal chain pulls tight. Thank God!

The remainder of the journey from Chau Doc to Can Tho is a madcap adventure filled with several moments of "air time" where my butt lifts off my seat. At one point, our van nearly collides with a red bus. Driving in Vietnam is on the right, but you would never know it we spend so much time in the left lane passing other vehicles, only returning to the right lane to avoid on-coming traffic at the last second. "Isn't this insane?" I comment to the French girl next to me in the very back row. "It's ok" she returns "If we get hit it will only crush the ones in front."

We finally arrive in Can Tho and decide to sooth our nerves with a massage. Wanting to contribute money to a good cause, we choose a place that employs blind massage therapists. As Laura and I received our massages, I felt a bit awkward at first but the massage was great and I quickly gave into the relaxation.

The next morning, Laura, Tobias, and Katya depart for a boat trip of the floating markets (boats where merchants sell and trade produce). I stay behind due to tummy trouble and at first I am really disappointed. This is THE attraction in Can Tho, how can I miss it? But 6 hours straight on a boat with no bathroom access would be miserable. But after the cramping subsides, I end up having a nice day. I read, watch the BBC, drink copious amounts of water, chat with a friend, and before I know it I feel much better. On a lengthy trip like this, slowing down sometimes is important.

Can Tho is the largest city in the Mekong Delta. The city is one of the largest producers of rice, fruit, vegetables, and fish in Vietnam. Around 6am, it is as if someone flips a switch and Can Tho springs into action. Within the Huy Hoang Hotel, I hear people mill about the lobby, knock on doors, and clink their cutlery during breakfast. Motorcyles honk and someone begins hammering in the distance. Outside, people are everywhere--shopping, driving, spitting, eating, talking, sweating. My favorite time is around 10pm when the town quiets again. Fresh fruit juice in hand, I walk the riverfront under trees festooned with Christmas lights and past the golden statue of Ho Chi Mihn. Couples snuggle on benches as a few remaining boats meander down the Mekong.

As much as I love Asian food, I find some of the menu choices a little hard to stomach. Try these on for size:

Cowtail and hooves stewed with citronella
sweet and sour fish stomach
fried rat
crispy breaded frog
snake with vegetables

The snakes live in a small terrarium behind the tables. A Dutch guy named announces he has ordered the snake and wants me to try some. Well, when in Rome right? I grip a small piece with chopsticks and place it in my mouth. It tastes like the spicy sauce it's bathed in but I can also detect some scaliness on my tongue. Robert says he's ordering fried rat for dinner but I decline participation this time! After my culinary bravery, I allow myself to be lazy and order lasanga for dinner and a banana pancake for breakfast at a place called Cappuccino. Although I love the asian staples of noodles and rice, I need a break!

Chau Doc, Vietnam

Traveling from Vinh Xuong Cambodia to Kaam Samnor, Vietnam is my first border crossing by boat. This particular crossing is in the southernmost region of mainland Vietnam--the Mekong Delta. After an hour or so in a van, I walk down to the Mekong river, cross a flimsy plank of wood, and onto a small blue ferry. The first thing I notice is the toliet area, which has no roof and offers the best view on the vessel. There are 8 other passengers. We motor past small villages, wooden boats, and the occassional buddhist temple.

A charismatic woman named San explains the Vietnam entry process. "Visa take 20 minutes. You relax, lunch, toliet." She leads us past a security camera which will apparently gauge our level of health and urges us to smile. We pass a quarantine area with a few people laying on cots. It doesn't seem like a place I want to spend time. After a lunch of rice and vegetables, she returns clasping the stack of passports. "Remember, keep departure card otherwise you need to marry a Vietmanese" she jokes.

San accompanies us on the remaining 3 hour journey to Chau Doc. The river narrows, providing a better view of life along the Mekong Delta. A young boy waves at me while his mother lifts laundry into the river. Two older children bath their cows and themselves in the muddy Mekong. Wearing the signature conical Vietmanese hats, workers toil in rice paddies. San directs our attention to "monkey bridge," an unbelievably slight wooden construction. As we pass underneath it, I'm convinced it would collapse under the weight of a typical American.

The moment we enter Chau Doc, we are admist a bustling market filled with baskets of rice, frying meat, and some kind of unidentifiable chunky yellow concoction in a vat. We settle on a guesthouse and Tobias and Katia, a German couple from the boat ride, decide to stay at the same one. We spend the rest of evening dining and swapping travel stories.

It is amazing how well rested I am after a night of air conditioning! Nearing April, southeast Asia continues to become more sweltering by the day. Laura and I began our journey committed to staying in the cheapest accomodation but now we realize how paying a few extra dollars for the occassional amenity can really boost morale! The moment I step outside my cool oasis, I'm struck by the heat and the buzzing world outside. A female vendor wearing a surgeon's mask holds the strings of a mass of brightly colored balloons, hoping for a sale. She is one small part of the enormous market sprawling outside the guesthouse. Foreign markets facinate me and Chau Doc does not disappoint. The fresh fruits, vegetables, and spices are a joy to walk through. The lovely smell of cilantro enters my nostrils. But the meat area is another story! I watch as a woman expertly guts, cleans, and bags the fish for a customer in under a minute. Everything is out in the open air to be smelled, inspected, haggled over. The smell of hot meat makes me queasy. A pig's head sits atop a wooden table surrounded by pig ears and innards. Chickens and ducks squirm and squak from pens. A girl places a live chicken in a tote bag with the nonchalance an american might toss plastic wrapped Tyson chicken breasts into a grocery cart. Women chop hunks of beef with cleavers, swatting flies of the merchandise. The lanes are impossibly narrow yet somehow people, motorcyles, bicycles, carts, and trays dance through. Yes, the markets can be delightful and appalling but never, ever boring.

Interesting Vietnam factoid of the day:
-Vietnam blocks the use of social networking sites such as Facebook. Researching this a bit, I discovered this occured because people were using it for political dissent. I have also had some difficulty signing into my blog at times and strange experiences with Skype interrupting my calls with a shrill noise and hanging up or even signing out completely. Not sure what to think about that.

Note: Computer speed has been extremely slow here. It is unlikely I will be able to post new pictures for awhile!

Siem Reap

It's a few hours into my journey from Phomn Pehn to Siem Reap when I smell burning plastic. I see what looks like smoke near the mounted television in the left hand corner. I motion to the bus attendant and express my concern by pointing to the smoke. He pats the t.v. and says it's "no problem." For awhile I am convinced the bus will burst into flames or I will suffocate from smoke inhalation but eventually the smell and the smoke ceases. I never do find out what the issue was. Out my window, people toil in green fields and shacks of with wood or grass walls sit on stilts. listen to my ipod nearly full-volume in an attept to drown out our driver's incessant honking. During the 7 hour trip, he honks to signal his approach to overtake each vehicle by learning on the horn for several seconds. At a pit stop for food, I survey the scene. Monks smoke and check cell phones while goats feast on a pile of trash. Women sell snacks wrapped in plastic bags hanging from an awning. I order rice with spinach, bamboo shoots, egg, herbs, and chili sauce. It's delicious.

The vibe in Siem Reap is definitely lighter than when we were in Phomn Pehn. (Although after visiting the Killing Fields and an infamous prison, your mood can really only improve.) Due to it's proxmity to the famous temples of Angkor Wat, Siem Reap is a town with numerous tourist-oriented services from upscale hotels to westernized restaurants. Laura and I choose Smiley's guesthouse for $8. This buys us two single beds, a couch, coffee table, tv, clean bathroom, fan, and a narrow balcony. Once you get outside of the tourist cluster of hotels, massage parlors, and internet shops the road gives way to holey, dilapidated shanties. Merchants sell fruit from wheeled carts while children play near litter-strewn buildings on dusty side streets. An official holding a nightstick paces outside a minimart. I watch a man wash his dishes with a stiff blue brush in the muddy river.

In the evening, we explore the gigantic night market. Merchants entice with an array of items and services including scarves, paintings, bootlegged guidebooks, and 20 minutes in a tank of fish that eat the dead skin off your toes (we didn't inuldge). Six landmine amputee victims play music behind a sign requesting a donation. As we stroll through the corridors, I hear "Hey Lady, you buy something? Good price for you." My two most successful bargining techniques are as follows: 1) Always be willing to walk away if your price is not accepted. Many times it will be as soon as you turn to leave. 2) Put only the amount you want to spend on an item in your wallet and the rest in a separate place. Apologize to the vendor and say this is all you have on you. Many will take that amount rather than lose a sale entirely. I am always polite in my negotiations with merchants but I'm not ridden with guilt over offering low prices. They will never sell to you at a loss.

The next morning we depart the guesthouse promptly at 5:15am with Hinda. Hinda is the tuk tuk driver we hired for the day to tour the temples of Angkor Wat. The cool early morning wind whips through my hair as we race toward the temples. For those of you unfamiliar, Angkor Wat is the largest religious monument in the world. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ankor_Wat. Ankor Wat is the number one tourist destination in Cambodia and this is apparent as soon as we arrive and see the droves of people milling about. I escape to a quiet spot further away and watch the sunrise over the five towers. My experience at Angkor Wat is mixed. On one hand, the temples are undeniably beautiful. I enjoyed clambering up steep stairs, viewing ruins intertwined with trees, and admiring the intricate details carved into the rock. Upon entering one particular pagoda, we were instructed to thump our chests seven times for good luck. When we did, the sound echoed like a drum! The downside to this beautiful, amazing, site is with millions of visitors come scores of people trying to sell you things. After each temple they would gather around you. "You want cold drink/ t-shirt/ bracelet/ " or whatever other trinkets they happened to have. I understand they are making a living but it is also draining to always have to firmly say "No" and walk away every time. After eight hours of temple touring, we told Hinda we were ready to head back to Siem Reap! Still, I am glad we had the opportunity to visit Angkor Wat!

Phomn Pehn, Cambodia

I am definitely not in familiar territory any longer. Case in point--the Cambodia visa on arrival process. I step up to the counter to offer my documents and passport photo when I see one laying on the floor and think I've dropped it. Only after the photo is in the official's hand do I realize the face in the photo is not mine! I attempt to correct the mistake but he waves me away to the next station. I try again with the next official but he says it's ok and requests the $20 fee. The photo does not appear in my actual passport and the visa is granted. My customs card is never taken. I decide not to worry about it and exit the airport. Outside, Laura and I are immediately offered rides to the town center. We agree on a price of $2 for the 20 minute ride to Tat guesthouse.

Scenes from a tuk tuk ride--Dozens of mopeds vie for position. There is no apparent limit on how many vehicles can cluster in a single lane; the result is a herd of tuk tuks, mopeds, cars, and bikes moving together. Many of the mopeds have multiple people on them, as many as four on a single machine! Our driver makes one stop for gas. He calmy walks across four lanes of oncoming traffic to the gas station for a bottle of gas and back, never flinching! Laura and I have not yet achieved feat--we still flail and run for our lives.

Tat's guesthouse is run by smiling, fifty-ish, raven haired Tat. Tat speaks good English (French too) and is almost constantly followed around by her excitable orange dog. She is extremely helpful, initiating the process for our Vietnam visas, pointing us in the direction of tasty, cheap food, and arranging our bus ride from Phomn Pehn to Siem Reap. Our large bed sits on an off-white tile floor. We have a wicker bookshelf, wood vanity, and a small television mounted on the wall. Our window is framed by gold curtains and overlooks a series of corrugated metal rooves of shantys below. The room costs a budget-friendly $3.50. The only problem is the bed has a few fleas jumping on it. We spray the sheets with DEET and it's much better.

Our first Cambodian meal is at Vihear Sour Restaurant just down the street from our guesthouse. It appears we are the non-locals in the joint and there is only one other female diner. Laura orders a "small"Ankor beer that turns out to be a pitcher! Whenver we take a single gulp, our waitress refills our glass to the top. My fried eel is tasty but I feel guilty eating it as a woman with black teeth begs nearby. I offer the food to her but she does not take it.

The next morning we wake up early and catch a tuk tuk to the Killing Fields at Choeung Ek. I am somewhat familiar with the history of the place. Choeung Ek (and many other places in Cambodia) was the site where the Khmer Rouge massacred more than 200,000 people in an effort to cleanse the Cambodian population of anyone they deemed an intellectual (or "new" people) and therefore a theat to their vision of an agrarian communist society. Their methods of murder were many and varied. Soldiers bashed babies heads against tree trunks. Tools such as machetes, axes, even garden hoes were used to blugeon victims to death in an effort to save costly ammunition. A sign by the "Magic Tree"details how a large speaker was hung here to drown out the screams of prisoners. The memorial stupa is a glass case filled with the skulls of victims. Plots of mass graves surround it. A nearby building offers further information. The killing was arbitrary--someone wearing glasses might be an intellectual and therefore killed. Often, entire families were killed to prevent a member from exacting revenge. When I see the remnants of baby clothes salvaged from the fields, I find it difficult to hold back tears.

Although emotionally drained, we decide to make a stop at Tuol Sleng. Tuol Sleng was originally a high school converted into a prison where people were interrogated before meeting their demise in the Killing Fields. Now it houses The Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. The building is straight out of a horror movie. Barbed wire surrounds the perimeter, photos of emaciated victims line the walls, and rusty iron beds with pieces of shackle sit on the orange and white tiled classrooms. Upstairs, the movie "Bophana" tells the tragic story of the fall of Phomn Pehn to the Khmer Rouge thorugh the eyes of a mother who's son and daugher in law were eventually executed. Paintings by Vann Nath, a former inmate, depict the many types of torture performed in the prison, including water boarding, ripping off finger nails with pliars, and electric shock.

The atrocities the Cambodian people suffered under the Khmer Rouge are so far from my reality they are difficult to comprehend. As I climb into a tuk tuk, I glance once more at this building that was host to so much torture. I feel an ocean of gratitude for my life.