From A Bird's Eye View

Posted in travel

My Real ‘Next Adventure’

July 25, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:13 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

Since returning from Nepal, I have been asked a number of times about my next adventure; it seems some of you folks take a perverse pleasure in watching me bust my ass in some far-off, third-world country. I am indeed embarking on my next adventure and no, it’s not to Yemen, Somalia, Syria or the Antarctica “just before they close it for the winter” – but thank you Sister Suzanne and several loyal subscribers for your amusing, albeit life-threatening, suggestions. I’m trading in that 26-hour, back-wrenching, butt-numbing flight, for a short hop within the U.S. borders this time. And while this trip may not be as exotic as traveling through Nepal, I’m hoping it will provide a unique look at the spectacular beauty of my favorite part of the country.

I’ll have more company on this adventure, as it will be with couples from ‘the ‘hood’, affectionately, or maybe that’s ‘infectionately’, referred to as the ‘Hoodwink Hikers’. The ‘Hoodwink Hikers’ include our ‘Trail Boss’, Patrick (my Nepal companion) and his wife, Pam; long-time close friends, Mark & Kathy; the comic relief couple, Bob & Jeanne and Linda and me. We are headed to the ‘Intermountain West’ for some hiking and hijinks, not necessarily in that order.

‘The Harvard of the West’

Our plan is to fly into Salt Lake City (home to my son’s and my alma mater, Westminster College, or as we alums like to refer to it, the ‘Harvard of the West’), take the beautiful drive from Salt Lake to the Old West town of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, which sits in the shadow of the Grand Teton Mountains. We’ll spend a couple of days cavorting in the surrounding environs then head to Yellowstone Nat’l Park. Once we’ve seen ‘Old Faithful’ and Yogi Bear (or is that in Jellystone Nat’l Park?) we’ll continue north to join another couple from the ‘hood, Mike & Tanis, who have a second home on Flathead Lake in Polson, Montana. We figure to wear out our welcome there after a couple of days, so we’ll be heading further north to Lake McDonald, which is in scenic Glacier Nat’l Park, where we’ll do some hiking. Some will hike and some will take a tour bus on the picturesque road over the Continental Divide called, ‘Going To The Sun Road’ (sounds long . . . and hot!). We’ll then journey on to Many (pronounced Manny) Glacier for a night.

Exclusive Hotel in Jackson Hole

Our final stop will be so far north that it’s south . . . south Canada – a place called Prince of Wales in Alberta, where we’ll stay in a majestic old ‘railroad hotel’ in the Canadian Rockies. We will then drive back to Kalispell, Montana (assuming they will let us back into the country) and fly home.

That’s the plan, but anyone who’s been following our blog, knows that sometimes we deviate from the plan – and with this group of deviates, no plan is safe. Connectivity permitting, I’ll try to post what we actually do and maybe even include some videos, if my son shows me how to do that before we leave. Hope you tag along and enjoy the trip. As always you’re welcome to send me your comments while you’re sitting comfortably on your couch at home eating Bon Bons and I’m busting my ass on that Draconian-sounding road to the center of our solar system.

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Posted in opinion • travel

LIVING WITH THE SUMMER “SWELLS”

July 21, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:5 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

The Sun Valley Inn

Each year, beginning in 1988, we have travelled up to Sun Valley, Idaho to relax, refresh and, let’s be honest, get out of the Arizona heat. Almost always we come in September, when the leaves are turning and – this is critical – the kids are back in school. It is clear from our travel patterns that we are creatures of habit, for while other people dream of new places and revel in collecting travel brochures, we come to the same place every year. Sort of like lemmings. Sun Valley is made up primarily of the Sun Valley Resort, with its two lodges, ice rink, golf courses, shops and restaurants. Walking through “the village” is like stepping back in time, assuming that the time was Bavaria in the 1930’s. The resort was conceived by Averil Harriman, chairman of the Union Pacific back in the mid-twentieth century. He employed surveyors and architects from Germany to carry out his vision and their influence is apparent from the moment you step on to the grounds. The resort has long been a favorite of the rich and famous…but more on that later.

Downtown Ketchum

Ketchum, Idaho is the town adjacent to Sun Valley. In fact, if you blink your eyes you will not see the sign that indicates you’ve left one jurisdiction and entered the other. Ketchum is a former rough and tumble place that allowed gambling long after it was outlawed in the U.S. and is famous for hosting Ernest Hemingway in his heyday. He was known to throw back more than his fair share of cocktails in the local bars and even staged a phantom bull-fight after one particularly “wet” night. Ketchum is still a small town in many ways – the only national chain store of any sort that has been allowed to open is Starbucks and that was only after much hue and cry among the locals. The shops and restaurants in town are owned by hard-working people who make a living catering to the seasonal crowds. And some years are a lot better than others. Last year, the wildfires forced evacuations the first week of August, thus cutting in half the normal summer season. As if that weren’t bad enough, the snowfall last winter was a bit sparse, so the ski season was also worse than normal. We have gotten to know many of the local merchants over the years and you could not find a nicer group of people. Which is why they really don’t deserve the summer “swells”.

As I mentioned, we are usually here in September when it’s quiet. It is a wonderful time to re-charge and appreciate the surrounding area. This year we decided to rent a house for July and August. Mistake. Big, big mistake. First of all, there are kids everywhere. Why is it that when your children are crying and running around they are still darling, but when it’s other people’s offspring they are just a pain in the neck? And up here they all seem to be on bikes, darting in and out of traffic as if they were in cahoots with the auto industry to test tire treads and braking efficiencies. But the worst are the “swells” who come to the area to spend time in their summer homes. Many of them are from Santa Monica or San Francisco, although I suspect there are jerks from everywhere here. I have personally witnessed three occasions where these socialites have treated local merchants and their employees as if they were personal servants…or worse. And the locals have to just grin and bear it as their livelihoods depend on “service with a smile”. I’ve been appalled by what I’ve seen and heard and then last week we got “the treatment” ourselves.

Sun Valley in the Fall

We were on a walk down the “street of dreams” in Sun Valley, a lane that is resplendent with some of the most spectacular houses here – or anywhere, for that matter. At the end of the road is a National Forest Service trail so the street sees plenty of hikers and bikers going up and down the road. We were across the street from one of our favorite houses when the owner came out to the front lawn. We were about to tell him how much we admired his home when his VERY large dog came bounding over to us. He was intent on pouncing on Dash the Wonder Dog, so I picked him up to get him out of harm’s way. The dog kept pursuing us and that is when I learned that you just shouldn’t threaten the Wonder Dog with my husband around. He told the owner that he needed to get control of us dog. No action. Again, my husband asked him to get his dog away from us. Nothing. Finally, the man looked both of us up and down and asked where we lived. Admittedly, we were not dressed to the nines, but our jeans didn’t have holes in them and I swear that neither of us has body tattoos or piercings through our noses. So “none of your business”, was our reply. He then told us that we just didn’t “belong” on his street and that we should leave. A public road!!

So, would I recommend Sun Valley as a place to vacation? You bet! It’s got everything – hiking, golf, biking trails, rafting, shopping, and tons of good restaurants. But I advise going in the fall. when the leaves are turning and the summer “swells” no longer own the streets.

Posted in The Tape

‘The Tape’ Chapter 4 – Oh, Where the Trap Door Leads!

July 14, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:3 Comments

For those who have joined us recently, you can find previous chapters of ‘The Tape’ in our ‘Archives’ as follows: Chap 1 (Jan 6), Chap 2 (Jan 20), Chap 3 (May 5).

by Bob Sparrow

The Trap Door

The Chief took the first few steps down into the cellar and turned back to looked at me with an expression that said, ‘Are you coming?’ I was still frozen in place across the room and reluctantly inched my way toward the opening in the floor and wondered why I was doing this, what was I going to find down there and what if the Chief was really an axe murderer? One thing I didn’t wonder about was whether anyone would ever find my body if in fact he was. No frickin’ way. Let me end the suspense, the Chief didn’t own an axe, heck he didn’t even own a tomahawk.

Stone walls & archway

The stairs down were longer than I expected so when we finally reached the stone floor at the bottom we were down about 20 feet. Chief’s kerosene lantern cast an uneven light against the cool, dank surroundings. I was not prepared for what I saw before me – the floor, walls and archways, were all lined with brick and stone; someone had put a lot of work into creating this place, whatever it was. As the chief held the lantern in his outstretched arm, we moved toward the main archway. At first I couldn’t make out what I was looking at and then as we got closer, I was stunned. Prison cells had been carved out on both sides of this cave; rusty cell doors hung open in rows as far as the lantern would allow us to see. A chill came over me as I realized I was in a real live dungeon.

(Don: “I’m getting a little claustrophobic, how about we all go up and get some fresh air?”)

The Chief was in deep thought as he looked around this underground prison. He walked over to a nearby cell and squeaked open the rusted door and stood motionless as he stared inside. I kept my distance, as I was pretty sure I didn’t want to see whatever was inside that cell. I asked, “So what is this? What the heck went on down here?”

(Don: “And why are we still down here?”)

dungeon cell

The Chief remained silent as the light from the lantern made eerie shadows play on his face. He looked down the long row of cells lost in thought. He finally turned to me and said, “Let’s go back up.”

(Don: “Whew! How can I thank you?”)

I followed the Chief up the stairs, out of the house and to the top of a near-by ridge next to the house; from there the entire Coachella Valley lay before us. The sun had just slipped behind Mt. San Jacinto as the Chief sat down on a boulder and watched the evening shadows stretch across the valley floor.

Coachella Valley

I sat down a few feet away and asked, “That was pretty spooky; so what was that place?”

To Be Continued . . .

Update: ‘Murder on the Road to Hana’ For those regulars who read/subscribe to our blog, I wanted to provide an up-date on a earlier story published on March 3rd. Nothing earth-shattering, but the Maui police have reclassified the case of missing Carley Scott from a ‘missing person’ to a ‘homicide’. Additionally they have found something in the waters just off the Hana coast that they believe can help them solve this mystery. Ex-boyfriend, Steven Capobianco remains a ‘person of interest’.

Posted in opinion

ALL THE NEWS THAT’S FIT TO PRINT

July 7, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:2 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Downtown Ely

One of the joys of a long car trip is passing through towns that are barely on the map. Such was the case on our journey up to Sun Valley, Idaho when we stopped for the night in Ely, Nevada. Where, you ask? Ely (pronounced EE-LEE) is smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It is in the eastern part of the state on State Route 93, exactly 250 miles north of Las Vegas and 250 miles south of Twin Falls, Idaho. This was not our first stop in Ely…it happens to be just a bit past the mid-point from our home up to Sun Valley so it’s a good place to rest for the night. “Rest” being a relative term.

The nicest hotel in town is a La Quinta Inn that was built about five years ago. It is pretty much what you would expect from a La Quinta – the bare minimum of furniture in the room, cold bagels for breakfast, and people slamming doors at 2 am. This trip we were delighted by people across the hall who left their baying hound alone in the room for five hours. There are several casinos in town where, we assumed, the dog’s owners were on a hot streak.

However, as I stated at the beginning, I find a particular joy in going through small towns. Having grown up in a town where everyone knew everyone else, I find it comforting to know that such places still exist. A habit I picked up years ago is buying the local newspaper to get a flavor of what life is like in these small burbs. In Ely, the local paper is called The Ely Times. Clearly they didn’t spend a lot of time coming up with a catchy name. On the other hand, I think simplicity is key in Ely. My brother, Bob, has the same fascination with small town papers and we obviously came to that trait naturally since our parents owned our small town paper, the Novato Advance. Or The Retreat, as some people took to calling it.

Mom and Dad in front of the Novato Advance

Regardless, the name of this blog is a tribute to a column that our mother wrote each week, “A Bird’s Eye View”, in which she regaled people with stories about local activities. Her riveting articles chronicled such highlights as “Mr. and Mrs. Tresch went into San Francisco for lunch on Thursday where they enjoyed a crab salad at Aliotos” or “Mr. and Mrs. J.J. Smith entertained their cousins from Modesto last week”.

So it was with some interest that I opened the Ely Times to see what constituted news in this small town of 4200 people. Here were some of the major stories:

“The City Treasurer has been placed on a 90 day review for insubordination. The Mayor asked her not to write a check to the Fire Chief, but she ignored his orders, asked the opinion of another council member, and then went ahead and wrote the check anyway.”
“Mrs. Zelma Brown died in February but the town will be celebrating her life at a memorial to be held at the Pool Park next Saturday. Refreshments will be served but seating is limited so bring along a chair for yourself.“
“The Ruth Mining Days competitions will be held on June 21. There will be a mill ball toss, rock hammer toss, tire roll and a tug-of-war over mud. In addition, we will hold the annual Adult Mucking Competition.”

Mucking..or something like that.

Mucking competition??? I thought that was a skill held by scrappy newspaper reporters trying to “get the goods” on corrupt politicians. But, being the intrepid reporter that I am, I did a little research and discovered this is a very serious competition, conceived to keep old-fashioned mining techniques alive. There are seven events in the competition: Jackleg drilling, gold panning, hand mucking, hand steeling, timber sawing, surveying and track stand. Points are assigned in each event and the lowest cumulative score at the end of all seven events is the overall winner. I guess it’s sort of the decathlon of mining.

I was sorry that we had to miss all of the festivities…I’ve never been one to pass up a good mill ball toss. Driving out of town the next morning we passed the new Dialysis Center. I recalled there was an article in the paper about the local quilting guild that donated dozens of quilts for the comfort of the patients undergoing treatment there. In Ely, if someone is in need, there is someone to help out.

I’m not sure I could live in a town that small again; I’ve grown accustomed to Costco, Starbucks and high-speed internet. But I envy these people in ways that others envy the Kardashians. They live life simply, they take care of their neighbors, and the only muckraking they care about has nothing to do with politicians. I think they’re pretty darn lucky to live in Ely.

Posted in Holiday observations

When Did ‘Independence Day’ Become the ‘4th of July’?

June 30, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:14 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Franklin

Ahhh, the 4^th of July – warm weather, baseball games, parades, old glory flying, fireworks, barbecues and beer. Who doesn’t love that? The neighborhood I live in has made this day a very special one from the time our kids were very small. We’ve had parades where the kids decorated their bikes in red, white and blue streamers. We’d go to the local school grounds and taught the kids to play softball until the year that they taught us. We’d play horseshoes and go swimming. We’d barbecue burgers and hot dogs, have a few cold beers (not the kids!) and when it got dark we launched some fireworks.

We thought it was the perfect 4^th of July, and it probably was, but it wasn’t the perfect ‘Independence Day’. Nary a word was spoken about the courage of George Washington, the eloquent writing of Thomas Jefferson, the legal leadership of John Adams, or the many talents of Benjamin Franklin. And with all the media we’re surrounded with today, I’m betting that you don’t hear much about these heroes this week as we prepare for what is suppose to be a celebration of what these, and many other courageous men and women, did to create this incredible country.

It’s curious how we’ve personified virtually every other holiday we celebrate with characters, from Father Time to Santa Claus, but we’ve actually taken the ‘characters’, our Founding Fathers, out of our Independence Day celebration and relegated it to just a date. It would be like instead of calling it Christmas, we’d just call it ’25th of December’, or instead of Easter we’d call it the ‘first Sunday after the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox’; OK, maybe we’d keep that one as Easter. Independence Day is many American’s favorite holiday, but it’s because of the aforementioned activities not because we spend much time recalling and recognizing the deeds of the truly amazing people who founded this nation.

I suspect part of the reason for our lack enthusiasm over celebrating as the victors of the Revolutionary War, is that we don’t see England as our enemy anymore. In fact, they are, arguably, our strongest ally, but back in the day, they were not so very nice to us and they were particularly pissed when we told them to take their taxes and tea bags and put them where the sun don’t shine.

King George III

King George III, king of England at the time of our revolution, was a particularly annoying bastard – you can read some of our grievances with him in the actual Declaration of Independence, which, by the way can be printed on two typewritten pages – sans signatures. Maybe this year, you could print it out and read it during the barbecue, preferably before ‘beer thirty’. You might also mention that our Founding Father’s were not only courageous, but were very intelligent and interesting people. To wit:

– George Washington, who is the only US president never to run for president, was elected twice by a unanimous decision of the Electoral College (He got every vote!) – popular vote was not used in those days. As president, he refused to be paid. But, he was also the richest president in history, with total assets in excess of $500 million in today’s dollars.

– Thomas Jefferson publicly opposed slavery, even though he owned slaves his entire adult life and had 5 children with his slave, Sally Hemings.

– John Adams died on the same day as his rival Thomas Jefferson on July 4^th, 1826, the 50^thanniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

– The multi-talented Benjamin Franklin could speak 6 languages: French, German, Italian, Spanish, Latin . . . and English

– Our first secretary of the Treasury, Alexander Hamilton was shot and mortally wounded by Vice President Aaron Burr in one of the most famous duels in American history.

– Patrick Henry, an attorney, had many people who had nothing to do with a case visit his court hearings just to hear him speak; he was that good of a public speaker.

– Benedict Arnold, the famous traitor, was a General in both the American and British armies – some say at the same time.

I hope you all have a great 4th of July, but I also hope that you also make it a great ‘Independence Day’ and remember those who, nearly 240 years ago, gave us the freedoms that we so enjoy to this day.

Posted in opinion

BOB’S NEXT ADVENTURE

June 23, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:9 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Doesn’t he trust us to pick his next adventure?

Well, here we are, back from our travels with Bob. Based on the comments he received on his posts, it would appear that many of you are like me – let’s let my crazy brother explore the challenging places on Earth while we lounge in our living rooms eating Doritos. So purely for our own entertainment purposes, where do we want Linda to send Bob on his next birthday? It would have to be someplace beautiful with just a twinge of excitement and adventure. After all, if he’s going to do the traveling for us we want him to go someplace that will give us an adrenaline fix. Clearly sending him to Kathmandu didn’t kill him off so I think we can up the game a bit. Let’s consider some of the world’s “garden spots” that might be options for his next trip:

1. Brazil – Ah yes, white sandy beaches, girls in bikinis, slow jazz played in the background. As Bob himself admits, he is a huge Jimmy Buffett fan and Brazil comes very close to wasting away in Margaritaville. Unfortunately, Brazil also has one of the highest crime rates going. It boasts (if that is the right word) 14 of the world’s most violent cities. There is lots of gang violence and what they refer to as “quicknappings“, whereby the victim is kidnapped, thrown in a car, taken to the nearest ATM to withdraw money, and then released. HAH! Bob could thwart them in no time – he can never remember his ATM pin.

2. Haiti – Only 8% of the cocaine that comes into the U.S. comes from Haiti, but apparently that’s enough to make it bustling – and dangerous. Crime in rampant in Haiti but here’s the great thing about Bob visiting there – the carjackings, murders, armed robberies and kidnappings are almost always against other Haitians. So as long as he doesn’t a) become a Haitian or b) start dealing cocaine, I think he could be our man on the street in Haiti.

A Honduras hotel with swim-up bar.

3. Honduras – Oh my. Honduras as a country currently has the highest murder rate in the world. And most of them go unsolved. Partly because it is very common for the crooks to set up fake police checkpoints and then either rob or – it would appear – murder the people who they have stopped. There are beautiful places to visit in Honduras and some of the hotels even have swim-up bars (see right) but the travel websites warn that the high level of violence deters all but the most reckless of tourists. Bob – reckless? No…but he is certainly adventurous and can see right through imposters who say “Badges? We don’t need to show you no stinkin’ badges“. Yep – I think he’s our guy to explore the verdant climes of Honduras. Plus, he’s never been one to bypass a good swim-up bar.

4. Yemen – This country has been in the Top Ten of perilous places for tourists for years. Travel on roads between cities is dangerous. Armed carjackings, especially of four-wheel-drive vehicles, occur in many parts of the country. Motorcycles are commonly unlicensed and used as taxis. Well, heck, we already have proof that Bob will climb on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and take off for parts unknown. And Yemen has extensive mountain highlands where many people love to trek. And they don’t have any of those damn stone steps. Perfect!

They are no match for the Parrot Head.

5. Somalia – The Shamo Hotel in Mogadishu serves lobster on their rooftop overlooking the beautiful sea. The concierge is also nice enought to advise that when you depart the hotel for the airport – a mere four miles away – you hire at least 10 armed guards to escort you. And of course, anyone who has read about what is going on in that country or at a minimum has seen the film “Capt. Phillips” knows all about the pirates that abound in the region. BUT…Bob is a steely eyed retired Naval officer. He could overcome any rogue raiders and take command of their ship. I can just hear him yelling at the pirates – “Who is the Parrot Head now?”. Somalia is definitely in his wheelhouse.

So let’s take a vote. Where should Linda send him next? The outcome of the poll probably won’t matter – I don’t think he’s going anywhere, exotic or otherwise, until his knees and hips recover. But this much I do know, no matter where we might send him he would maintain a great attitude, he would find the best beer, and he would make friends with the locals. He is a great ambassador for American travelers.

As for me, as you read this we are on our way to Sun Valley, Idaho for the summer. I will travel through Ely, Nevada and Twin Falls, Idaho. Believe me, neither of them are anywhere near as exciting as Somalia. But I hope to have some good travel posts from Idaho, including rafting on the River of No Return. That is, of course, assuming we do return.

Posted in travel

Nepal Postscript

June 16, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:10 Comments

Annapurna South

As you can probably tell, I love to travel, and part of what make travel so enjoyable is coming home. I am now home at last, with a head full of incredible memories of awe-inspiring mountains, the lakeside, tourist town of Pukhara, the humid, elephant-filled jungle lowlands of Chitwan National Park and the teeming city of Kathmandu.

The Modern Kunming Airport

I don’t know if I believe the slogan, “Getting there is half the fun”, but I can tell you this, getting home is a pain in the ass . . . literally! For us, it clearly won the battle of ‘the one bad day’ . . . or two. We were picked up at our hotel in Kathmandu at 1:30 on Friday afternoon (That’s around midnight on Thursday back on the left coast) for a 4:30 flight from Kathmandu to Kunming, China. We arrived there around 7:30 p.m. and had to pick up our checked baggage, as it could not be sent directly from Kathmandu to Los Angeles. Unfortunately our connecting flight to Shanghai, China wasn’t until 8:00 the next morning, so we had ‘a few’ hours to kill at the airport – like all night! We thought about going to a nearby hotel, but then decided we’d just tough it out and hang at the airport. After we wandered through all the shops, eateries and restrooms, we cozied up to an airport bench with our backpacks and luggage and tried, in vain, to get some sleep. The next morning we departed at 8:00 and arrived in a very smoggy Shanghai around 11:00 a.m. We then had about two hours to kill before departing for Los Angeles at 1:00 p.m. After an 11 hour flight, we arrived in LA at 10:00 a.m. Saturday morning. I don’t think Patrick is going to let me book anymore of his flights.

For those keeping score at home, that’s crossing through 11 time zone and the International Date Line for a total of 36 hours from start to finish! Now that I’m in the comforts of my own home, I like to say that it wasn’t that bad – but it actually was.

Those Damn Stone Steps

I think the message was clear from the blogs posted over the last two weeks that our favorite part of the trip was our time spent in the Himalayas – the scenery, the people, our time with Dom and Kirin and that feeling of exhaustion at the end of the day that was only relieved by a hot shower and a cold beer.

Each time I posted over the last two weeks, a Jimmy Buffett lyric echoed in my head and helped me realize why I love to travel and write:

“If you ever wonder why you ride this carrousel,

You do it for the stories you can tell”

So thank you Jimmy and thank you to all who followed us on our adventure and particularly those who took the time to comment on the blog – it’s always good to hear from home. I did try to respond to them all, but our schedule and connectivity issues wouldn’t allow, but I did read, and sincerely appreciated every one.

Thanks to sister Suzanne, who I’m sure edited and cleaned up my posts and kept me abreast of what was going on back home.

Thank you to Patrick, for taking two weeks off work to join me – I couldn’t have had a better trekking and travel companion. We spent 24/7 x 2 together and we’re still friends . . . I think.

Inspired by Jimmy Buffett

My biggest THANK YOU goes to my wonderful wife, Linda, who surprised me with this amazing trip for my 70^th birthday. I have to admit that Kathmandu was not on my rather extensive ‘Bucket List’, but it turned out to be the adventure of a lifetime. I love you Linda and you cannot know how much this trip meant to me.

Posted in travel

Day 12 – Nepal Diary: The Texture of Kathmandu

June 12, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:14 Comments

Kathmandu

Kathmandu is without equivocation the most ‘foreign’ foreign city I have ever visited. Everything about it, its look, its feel, its sound, its smell, its texture – is different. Nepal, which is a landlocked country between China and India, is one of the poorest counties in the world and seems to be struggling with its identity, as is its capital, Kathmandu. Its infrastructure is in disrepair. Thousands of cars, motorcycles/scooters and pedestrians all trying to get somewhere, but with no traffic lights or signs and no lines in the middle of the road, the congestion in this city of four million is unimaginable. Kathmandu is a cultural fusion of varying economic means, religions and castes. Yes, it has a caste system where people are divided into four very distinct statuses, and if you were born in the bottom caste, there is no working hard and moving up; no matter what you do, you’ll remain in the bottom caste. Eighty percent of the population is Hindu, fifteen percent is Buddhist, with Muslims and Christians making up the last five percent. But it seems that religious differences are better tolerated here than in most places in the world.

Nealese attire

Buildings in the city are typically low, brick or plaster facades with tile or tin roofs. Sometime they have a door; sometimes it’s just a curtain that covers the opening. Everything looks brown or gray, as most of the roads are dirt and all the traffic stirs up lots of dirt and grime. I see bamboo scaffolding on a few buildings that are being refurbished. Telephone pole spaced every few hundred yards, have hundreds of wires coming from them and going in all directions. People are dressed in various styles, most of the men are in ‘western’ attire, although the older men will wear a Dhaka topi – a hat, but the majority of women wear saris or other more traditional clothing. If a woman is married, she will wear red, single women can wear any color but red.

We visited Pashupatinath, the oldest Hindu temple in Nepal; it is here that we witnessed a cremation. In this case it was a young boy whose body was cover as he lay by the river. A lady, who we assumed to be the mother, was nearby wailing and being comforted by her friends, as she looked at her son for the last time. The body was taken to a spot next to the river where a funeral pyre was prepared. The body was burned and the ashes were pushed into the river. This river flows into the Ganges River in India, which the Hindus believe to be holy. It was a very moving ceremony.

Funeral Pyre

We next visited Bhaktapur, a city within Kathmandu, and the oldest city in Nepal. Its history goes back to the 7th century, when it was the capital of Nepal. The city is filled with both Hindu and Buddhist shrines and has an incredible history of kings, art and war. We attended a lecture on the art of Mandala, the use of millions of grains of colored sand used by Tibetan Monks to create a‘circle of life’ painting. It take months to complete just one piece and when it’s complete, it is dumped into a river, so it can spread its goodness to the rest of the world. The samples that we were shown were beautiful – and powerful.

Our final stop for the day was at Swayambhunath, more simply the ‘Monkey Temple’, due to the number of monkeys that inhabit the oldest of Buddha temples in Nepal, dating back to the 5th century. It tells the history of the creation of the city of Kathmandu and holds many artifacts that are particularly important to the Buddhist religion. It is high on a hill and provides a sweeping view of the Kathmandu valley.

Mandala by Tibetan Monk

With all its foreignness, I ended up liking Kathmandu a great deal, because of the people. They were always friendly, courteous and always willing to help now matter what the circumstance. They work hard, especially the women, and cope in a world in which most of us would surly struggle.

Our incredible adventure is coming to and end, so this will be my last post from Nepal. We leave tomorrow (Friday) and get home Saturday. Since I’ll have 30+ hours on planes and in airports, I’ll try to put together some overall perspectives from Patrick and me and post them on Monday.

Thanks for following along.

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Day 10/11 – Nepal Diary: The Elegant Elephant

June 11, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:8 Comments

Disney it was not

Today in Chitwan was a day to explore elephants . . . in detail, but first our canoe trip down a muddy river. It did not stack up favorably to the Disney’s Jungle Cruise. No monkeys climbing trees, no hippos spitting at us, no alligators, not even some stupid jokes. Our guide did say that there was a Kingfisher bird way off in the distance somewhere, but I’ll be damn if I saw him. The canoe trip mercifully ended with nary a sighting if you don’t count the log that looked like part of an alligator.

We then headed to the EBC, the Elephant Birthing Center, which was actually fairly interesting and one of the premier elephant breading centers in the world and boasts the birthing of the world’s only set of elephant twins. There were several baby elephants wandering around the grounds that you could actually touch and feed grass to, which I did. We next headed to the elephant bathing area, where we watched the trainers lead the elephants into the river then jump on their back with a brush and give them a good scrubbing. It was sort of like an elephant car wash – I think a wax and pedicure was extra.

“Does this elephant have reverse?”

After lunch we did an elephant safari. Four people crammed into a wooden orange crate on top of an elephant – very uncomfortable, especially if your elephant needed a realignment or it’s tires rotated, which ours apparently did, as it was a very bumpy ride. I like elephants, they may be my favorite animal, what with their size, strength and good memory, but I don’t think the elephant enjoyed this any more than we did. We spent an hour and a half wandering through the jungle in search of wild animals. We saw a dog. I was riding facing backwards, so most of the views I had were of the elephant’s ass. Actually we did see a one-horned rhino mother with her baby. The one-horned rhinos are called Indian rhinos because they are found in the Indian/Asia area, as apposed to the two-horned rhino, which are found in Africa. Unlike the India/Africa elephant, it is easy to tell the Indian from the African rhino . . . JUST COUNT THEIR HORNS!!!

Our safari lasted an hour-and-a-half, by which time my legs were numb and we had no more chance of seeing a Bengal Tiger than we did of seeing a Detroit Tiger, or Tiger Woods or Tony the Tiger for that matter. If elephant safaris were given as prizes and the hour-and-a-half safari was the first place prize, second prize would be a three-hour safari.

The trip was made easier by our safari mates, a very fun Malaysian couple from Kuala Lumpur. They entertained us throughout our safari as well as at dinner back at the hotel that night. He says that he is a Malaysian first and a Chinese second, but that he’s really a ‘banana’. Banana? I asked. Yes, that’s an Asian (yellow on the outside), who is really like an American (white on the inside).

A one-cart, two-ox parade

The next morning we took an oxcart ride through several villages close to our hotel – I felt like I was a runner-up for Mr. Chitwan Congeniality, waving to the masses as we passed through their village.

We boarded Buddha Airlines for the short flight (18 minutes) to Kathmandu where we checked into the Shanker Hotel – I know it doesn’t sound healthy, but it’s actually a 5-star hotel – a far cry from the teahouses in the Himalayans that we were staying in, although I miss the teahouse’s charm.

Thank you all for your prayers and well-wishes for Dana – the last I heard she had a balloon, rather than a stint, put in and is now home and feeling great.

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Day 9 – Nepal Diary: All Days Are Not Created Equal

June 10, 2014By Sparrow/WatsonComments:5 Comments

Chitwan

Patrick and I talked about this when we were planning the trip – we figured that with a two-week adventure, we’re probably going to have at least one bad day. Today wasn’t really that bad, it just wasn’t that good. To start with, our driver picked us up in Pokhara at 7:30 and took us to the drop off point for the river rafting. We’re OK so far. Fortunately he hung around to see us off, but soon we discovered that the rafting trip was poorly organized, over-crowded and an over an hour late of the estimated time of departure . We decided that this raft ‘float’ in 90-degree temperature, with humidity to match, was not going to be that fun, so we hopped in the car and continued on to Chitwan – which, on these narrow mountain roads, was a white-knuckle adventure in itself.

About 10 miles out of Chitwan the topography changes dramatically. The majestic mountains disappeared and we found ourselves in a flat, jungle environment. Chitwan is in south Nepal, very close to the India border, and we could see a difference in the look of the people as well as a more definite Indian/Hindu influence in the culture versus the China/Tibet, Buddha influence we found in northern Nepal.

What, me worry?

Our accommodations in Chitwan, the Parkland Hotel, were excellent; nice room, three good meals a day and beautiful grounds. The only problem was their wifi was not working and I had a deadline to meet to get this blog published. I told a hotel employee that I really needed to get on my computer and he said he would take me to a cyber-café in a neighboring village. I followed him out to the parking lot and watched as he fired up his motorcycle and motioned for me to get on the back. I checked to see if he was wearing a shirt that read on the back, “If You Can Read This, The Idiot Fell Off.” He was not, so I hopped on. It was a short ride to the cyber-café where I was able to post yesterday’s blog. I assume I’ll have to do the same for this one. What I won’t do for you guys!!!

How they keep elephants still at night

Before dinner a guide took us on a nature walk to view some elephants, which was fairly interesting. What I’ve noticed from trips to both Africa and here is that guides go to great lengths to tell you the difference between an African elephant and an Indian/Asian elephant, like we were going to be quizzed on it later. After hearing all the differences I broke it down to its simplest terms: if you’re in the India/Asia area you’re going to see an India/Asia elephant and if you’re in Africa you’re going to see an African elephant. Class dismissed. If the guide hadn’t taken so long to explain the differences we might have not got caught in a torrential downpour at the end of our walk. Everyone came back to the hotel soaked. After changing into some dry cloths and having dinner, we were driven to a neighboring village to watch a cultural dance exhibit put on by local artists. It was actually fairly good, but it made me wonder what America would do for a cultural dance – probably some mix of Gangnam style and a Moon Walk.

I sort of feel like a sloth today, no 7 mile trek before lunch.

On a personal note I must admit that my full attention was not in Nepal today, but rather thousands of miles away at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angles, where daughter, Darlin’ Dana is going in for heart surgery at 4:30 Tuesday morning. It’s not as major as her surgery last year; it’s the insertion of a stint, but no heart surgery is minor. So my thoughts, prayers and focus are there until I hear she is in post-op and doing well.