Pokhara Picnic

In stark contrast to Kathmandu’s hustle and bustle, Pokhara is a relatively peaceful city. Situated alongside Nepal’s third largest lake and known primarily as the starting point for the Annapurna treks, Pokhara made for a quiet place to simply relax.

Even for those of us not heading out to conquer any portion of the Himalaya mountain range, the city boasted several days’ worth of leisurely sights and activities. That is, once you got away from the tourist-aimed shops, trekking guides, and touts.

High above the lake, the Japanese-built Buddhist World Peace pagoda offered breathtaking views, after a hike that made it hard enough to breathe in the first place. (This was our first encounter with what was considered a “leisurely stroll” in the Nepal Lonely Planet.)

Unfortunately, we largely missed out on Pokhara’s famed views across the nearby mountain peaks, as it rained every morning and evening during our visit, leaving the views hazy the rest of the time.

The city buses made it a simple task to visit nearby waterfalls and cave temples. The Old City’s brick buildings and slow pace offered a glimpse into Pokhara’s past. And Nepali snacks of momos (dumplings), sekuwa (water buffalo jerkey), choyla (dried water buffalo with chili and garlic), and more momos were readily available.

Not a bad way to spend a couple of days. 

Hakuna Matata

You can’t go to Africa, particularly East Africa, and not go on a safari. Okay, you can, but really, why would you want to? The practical, grown-up answer is, of course, money; as a general rule, experience-based commodities, especially when the experience is something rare or precious, tend to be either expensive affairs or jam-packed with people.

Luckily for us, Uganda currently falls right in between those two extremes: not the most popular, over-touristed destination in the region (like Kilimanjaro or Serengeti National Park) , but with a newly-blossoming budget safari industry. And by ‘newly-blossoming’, I mean ‘has two reasonable options.

Now, the difference between a budget safari and your other safari options comes down to one thing: number of passengers, i.e. are you willing to risk sharing your experience with a bunch of strangers, potentially putting the fate of your trip in their hands? Some people would rather pay more and keep the whole thing as a private endeavor, since, as we have learned in the past, the group is one of the vital ingredients, with the power to completely sabotage an experience. We got lucky. Not only did we save money, but we ended up with a fantastic group of people, something that certainly augmented the whole experience.

Of the two most impressive national parks in Uganda, we opted for Murchison Falls National Park as it is the cheaper of the two and home to the country’s only giraffes, both equally important in my book. It is also home to one of the world’s most powerful waterfalls, where the entirety of the Victoria Nile squeezes through a tiny 6-meter-wide space, making for some mighty impressive views.

But let’s get to the important part, the reason we’re all here. Wildlife.

Seeing exotic creatures at the zoo is lovely, a glimpse into another world. Seeing those same creatures in their own habitat, roaming free, is absolutely beautiful. Breathtaking. Awe-inspiring. Surreal. An experience unique unto itself.

Over the roughly six hours spent on game drives, bouncing down dirt roads perched atop an open-roof van, we spotted a wealth of wildlife strewn about the park’s vast, lush landscape.

The elegant Ugandan Kob, the befuddled-looking Jackson’s Hartebeest, the stockier Waterbuck, all dot the horizon, grazing wherever you look.

Warthogs trot past, tails skyward, trailing their tiny wart-piglets.

Water Buffalo stand stock-still, only their jaws working away at grass, staring as we pass, birds comfortably hitching a ride on their back.

It’s a wonder to top a verdant hill, coming several feet from a herd of elephants, ears flapping, wrinkles mud-caked.

Hippos bob in the Nile, ears and eyes visible, cool in the midday heat. The males viscously assert their dominance in splashing, open-maw bouts. At night they roam our camp, grazing in the cover of night.

The vibrant flutterings of color that make up Murchison’s birdlife runs the full spectrum of the rainbow. Greens, blues, reds, oranges, and yellows, each shade is represented with a flapping of wings, a making of nests.

But for me, it’s all about the giraffes. Their unique markings, like no other creature on earth, pale in youth and darkening with age. As they run, it is as though they are moving through a viscous liquid, like the tape is played in slow motion. Graceful, majestic, and magnetic in their beauty; to witness numerous giraffes, reaching with ease into the tallest of trees to pluck a snack, towering over even the elephants, sauntering about without a care, is an experience unlike any other.

And, yes, these are animals we’ve seen a thousand times, in zoos, on nature specials and in the pages of National Geographic. But there is nothing that can take your breath right out of your chest like the beauty of seeing them carousing in their natural habitat, miles to roam, nothing but ground underfoot (or hoof or paw) and sky overhead.

Just Add Water

Of incredible and awe-inspiring natural beauty, Guatemala has its fair share. The views and mountainscapes are second to none; so much so that at one point in our travels northward, we took five local buses in one day, including four hours bouncing down a dirt road, just to take the scenic route. It is vast and grand and, at times, overwhelming.

On the smaller scale, central Guatemala has some impressive natural formations. Among these are a number of cave and river systems of exhaustive beauty.

Among these natural phenomena, Semuc Champey wears the crown. Pools of varying sizes and shades of turquoise (who knew it had more than one shade?) send river water spilling from tier to tier, as the primary river takes an underground detour.

Another marvel of the shapes nature creates, a nearby cave system sprawls through Guatemala’s mountainous Alta Verapaz region. Serving as sacred sites for past and present Mayans, the caves’ stalactite and stalagmite residents sprout from floor and ceiling.

It is truly amazing the spectrum of creations that arises when Mother Nature has the help of water, minerals, and time.

Erawan: Seven Waterfalls in One

Erawan Falls is a seven-tier waterfall, and a very popular tourist destination, even among Thais.  Located about two hours outside of Kanchanaburi, Erawan Falls is well worth the trip, even in a rickety local bus, plunging up, down and around winding mountain roads. You have to go early, as around four o’clock the park starts closing up and the last bus pulls out of the parking lot to make its way back to Kanchanaburi. But, even in Thailand, one can get up early every now and then.

It is about a two-hour hike to get to the top, allowing time for stopping frequently to let people pass in the opposite direction on the narrow trail. The trail follows relatively confusing signs from tier to tier, leading you on over rocks, up wooden staircases, and trudging through water.

The farther up the falls you go, the more the crowd thins out, leaving the small and elderly toward the lower levels. It is hot, sweaty, and at times slippery work to get all the way to tier seven, but a lovely pool awaits you. Monkeys relax, lazy in the trees, waiting for munching tourists to let their guard down and allow the snatching of snacks. Fish swim, languid in the shadows.

At each of the tiers you can stop to swim in the clear blue pools, as tiny fish nibble at your heels. A free fish massage. Climbing up the various falls is easier in many places than one would believe, thanks to the mineral buildup, giving the rock faces their off-white hue and an almost sandpapery finish.

The trek back to the lower levels takes less time, but we were thankful for the various snack and drink stands that precede the parking lot. Hiking, swimming and climbing, when combined into a full-day activity will leave you parched and starving. Not to mention, ready for a beer and one helluva nap when you finally make it back to the guesthouse. 

Motorbike Exploration

Chiang Rai is in no way lacking for things to do. If you look at a map of the area around Chiang Rai, there are dozens of dots strewn about – temples, waterfalls, caves, an elephant camp, hill tribe villages. A recent visit from friend from New Mexico served as the perfect opportunity to spend a lazy Saturday on motorbikes, exploring the areas around Chiang Rai.

Win and I had our motorbike, Jenny and Ansel had one rented for several days. Our itinerary was ambitious, but plausible: the nearby Buddha Cave, a waterfall, the Black Temple, and the longneck Karen tribe.

The air was heavy and wet, the sun forcing the moisture into the air, but moving along on the motorbike the breeze was cool. We took a circuitous route through rice paddies and open fields, past the prison, eventually winding up and around jungle hills. It involved a heavy amount of guesswork, as maps in Asia aren’t especially nuanced, and therefore often prove themselves to be somewhere between confusing and useless. One roadside fuel fill-up (poured from repurposed whiskey bottles) and several wrong turns later, we found the cave we were looking for.

Stray dogs lounged about on the steep staircase, but let us pass with little worry. Set in the side of a lone rock formation jutting from the rice paddies, the Buddha cave was inhabited by all manner of Buddha statues. Reclining, seated, standing, small medium and large. Even placed in gaps and natural skylights in the ceiling, there were Buddhas galore. And, the part I found most delightful, a number of stray cats lazed around, basking in pools of sun, and absorbing the quiet calm of their cave home.

After once again consulting the map, we ventured out, waterfall-bound. Now, there are a number of waterfalls in the greater Chiang Rai region, so once we found our way to the main road and the right general direction, we simply started following signs. Left, right, up, down, through residential neighborhoods, hill tribe communities, and lush, green jungle. Often, we would lose the signs and have to guess our way along, but the signs would almost always pick up again. The road meandered and wove through beautiful, diverse scenery, taking its time as it led us along.

It wasn’t the waterfall we were aiming for, but we found a waterfall. We headed off across a rickety suspension bridge over a river, assuming it would lead somewhere, which it didn’t. So we crossed back over the bridge, careful to avoid precarious or dangling boards. 

Then we tried the trail with long, flat steps leading up small patches of bamboo forest. The Thais seem to build staircases to any and all natural or man-made points of interest, so it was a brief, easy trek to get there.  It also wasn’t overly impressive, the water murky brown from the season’s high rains, but it was still a waterfall.

After a quick stop by a hilltribe museum --just one room filled with old tools, clothing, and accessories used by the local people -- and an attempted drive to a view point, which ended with us rolling backward down the hill, skid marks spooling out before us, we were ready for the second half of our adventure.

Then, it started to rain. And not just a little. I’m talking about the rains that wash, dump, and flood Thailand many afternoons during the (aptly named) rainy season. With Jenny and Ansel not being used to driving motorbikes or Thai traffic, let alone when complicated by monsoon rains, we figured it was time to throw in the metaphorical towel. Second half, canceled. It was a rain delay of the monsoon variety. We arrived home soaked and ready for an afternoon nap. 

So, it looks like Win and I will just have to postpone the Black Temple and Karen Tribe until we are feeling ambitious and touristy, or until some other friends come visit us.