"i HAVE SAND IN EVERYPLACE YOU CAN IMAGINE - LITERALLY"

EL NIDO, PHILIPPINES

Temperature: 35 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: "I'm Yours", Jason Mraz

"I can't move," I say groggily, trying painfully to sit up in my bed, "I have the worst sunburn on my back." Alecs simply shakes his head at me as every time we visit the Philippines I forget to apply sunscreen until it's too late. "Should we take a day off from island hopping?" Alecs asks as he texts one of his cousins. Nodding my head, I carefully roll back over in bed, quickly falling asleep. "I'm hungry," Alecs whines a few hours later, "let's go have breakfast." I drag myself out of bed and get dressed, all the while glaring at Alecs for waking me up at this ungodly hour of

10:30AM. After breakfast we decide to run a few errands around town, which include buying new sandals, postcards and of course sunscreen. "Magkakano itong tsinelas (how much are these sandals?)" I ask a vendor, holding some plain white flip flops. The young girl informs me they are 60 Pesos ($1.75 CAD) and I of course snatch them up. Alecs also purchases some cheap sandals and it's now late afternoon so we head to the beach for lunch.  A group of children stand huddled around something on the beach and Alecs and I struggle to see what it might be. "I think it's a really big fish," I say getting a glimpse of a tail, "let's come back after lunch." As we sit at the open air bar looking out on the ocean, dozens of children run down the shoreline gathering together at the sea creature. A little boy runs past us in the other direction, returning a few minutes later with a half dozen friends in tow. Quickly finishing our meal, we walk down the beach to see what all the fuss is about. A meter from the water lies a dead dugong with no visible wounds but blood on its face. "I wonder how it died," I say to Alecs touching the dugong's flipper. "Maybe it got hit by a boat," Alecs says, as several men snap photos with their cell phones. The rest of our day is spent walking in the shade, relaxing by the sea and preparing for another day of island hopping.

"Kuya June, good morning," Alecs says to our boat driver as we hop onboard. The air is cool and the ocean still as the boat breaks through the water at an ever quickening pace. The islands we are visiting today are the furthest away and it takes nearly an hour to arrive at the first destination. "I'm nervous," I say to Alecs as we gear up to get in the water. We are bound for Secret Beach, a hidden pocket of white sand beach only accessibly by swimming through the narrow opening in the cliff. If there are strong winds, the passage becomes impassable as the waves will push the swimmer up into the jagged rocks at the top. I follow Alecs to the cave opening where Kuya June makes us go through one by one, timing our entry with the waves. Alecs makes it through safely and I wait for my signal to go through, diving quickly under the cave entrance swimming rapidly to the other side. Once inside we find ourselves both alone and isolated in a serene heaven on earth. A school of blue fish follow us into the coral filled beach, and keeping our heads under water we watch another performance by the hundreds of fish and many sea creatures. I nudge Alecs underwater gesturing to a weird creature on the

ocean floor with lip-like characteristics. Alecs dives underneath poking at the purple thing which retracts quickly, reeling away from his hand, deeper into the sandy floor. Swimming around the enclosure we continually point things out to one another, fish, corals, clams, starfish and dozens of new and unusual creatures to us. We spend quite some time relishing in

 the calm, quietness of this completely confined swimming hole. Hidden behind a colossal limestone tower lies a sandy beach far from any tourist. When we have fully explored the area, basked in the sunshine and enjoyed the beach to the fullest, another couple swims through the opening 

signaling it is our time to leave. Feeling a little more confident about diving back to the other side, I film Alecs swimming through before continuing on myself. It was almost noon by the time we left and that meant finding a small island to cook our fish. On today's menu was a rather prehistoric looking fish with large sharp spikes for fins and a bleak looking expression on it's barbecued head. I take my first bite and am pleasantly surprised to find a delicious array of taste performing a tango on my tongue. Dozens of purple jellyfish wash up on shore and Alecs and I take turns holding to strange creatures that we both fear more than sharks. "I just don't know which one's are poisonous and which ones aren't" Alecs says scooping one out of the water, "that's what makes them scary." Pushing past the dead and dying jellyfish near shore we move to deeper waters to explore the coral and fish. Spotting a unique looking black and yellow fish Alecs nudges me and I follow it around for sometime as it dives through coral caves past rainbow coloured fish and eventually I loose it in

the depths of the ocean. Dodging a large jellyfish, I swim back over to Alecs who is diving to the corals, getting a closer look at fish who huddle together guarding their section of the sea against him. Above water we are surrounded by several island dotting the water and a beautiful sandy beach that rivals Boracay's fame white sand. "I don't wanna leave this place," I say to Alecs when we finally surface, "there's so much to see down there." When we finally do manage to climb aboard the boat, Kuya June and his regular 

helper Joenel set off for snake island, so named for it's hundreds of poisonous sea snakes which surround the island - just kidding. Snake Island is a long white sandbar that snakes it's way across a bay with the island appearing like the snakes head. Following Joenel, we climb up the island to a viewpoint overlooking the long sandbar and the many other islands around us. "This is breathtaking," Alecs says, sitting at a small bamboo hut up top, "you can see everything from up here." The numerous mountainous islands are surrounded by sparkling waters, leafy palm trees and sensational sandy beaches. A fisherman and young boy 

cast their small nets in the distant waters as we begin our descent down the rocky hill. Carefully maneuvering around loose rocks, uneven stone steps and protruding tree roots we reach the bottom and continue walking along the white sandbar. "This is too much work," I say, walking down the beach into the water, "let's swim instead of walking." By the time we've reached the end of Snake Island Kuya June is waving us over to the boat for our stop. Before we know it D'Victory (our boat) is pulling up at a small cave opening in a cliff and Joenel and Kuya June's son guide us into it. "You have to lay on your belly and crawl through," Joenel tells us doing so himself. Alecs positions himself on his stomach and using his arms he pulls himself through the cavity unable to avoid scraping his back on the rocks above. Following closely behind I also come out on the other side with a plethora of scrapes and soon-to-be bruises on my shoulders

and arms. Alecs taps me on the shoulder pointing to the many black creatures hanging from the ceiling of the cave. "Paniki (Bats)" Joenel tells us as we continue climbing deeper into the dark cave. As Alecs and I finish exploring, Joenel and Kuya June's son carve their names into the rock near the entrance. Upon leaving, both Alecs and I are able to exit without further scraping ourselves up.  "Last stop is the grotto," Kuya June says while starting up the motor. A short drive away from the cave is a tall limestone karst with a cross high above, towering over the heart-shaped island. Decades ago, a group of priests, nuns and pilgrims came to the island where they constructed a nail less cross carrying it to the highest cliff where it would overlook the islands. Ascending the dirt stairs to the top Alecs and I admire the beauteous scenery wildly shooting photos from every angle. "Imagine carrying a wooden cross up here," Alecs says, trying to catch his breath, "carrying a bottle of water up here was almost too much." We walk around the small outdoor chapel before catching our boat back to El Nido. After a long day in the water Alecs and I have trouble

keeping our eyes open as we splash through the water. Kuya June hands us each a life-jacket so we can make practical use of it as a pillow and we both settle in for a short nap on the water. "I can't take you two island hopping tomorrow," Kuya June says after waking us up 45 minutes later, "I'm taking my son and his friends to some islands." We agree to meet up again in two days for the final loop of islands - Loop D and bidding him farewell we walk up to our hotel on

 the beach. "I really want to buy a pair of flippers," Alecs says the next morning as we prepare our backpack for the day, "I love using the ones we rented." We decide to walk along the small streets of the town proper meandering in and out of shops searching for various items. We stop at the El Nido Botique Art Cafe where after much discussion we agree to each purchase a pair of flippers that match our masks and snorkels. "We need to go snorkeling now," Alecs says practically running back to the hotel, leaving me far behind, "I can't wait until tomorrow." Although today was supposed to be a 'do nothing' sort of day we decide to book a half day tour to two islands close to our beach. Stepping up into our small speedboat we take a seat across from each other and I can't help but smile as Alecs is literally unable to sit still with the anticipation of testing

out his own flippers. Stopping at the first little island on the map, Alecs dives in before the boat has a chance to dock and I quickly try to catch up. We spend over an hour speeding through the water, practicing our dives and thoroughly enjoying our purchase that we have yet to regret. The last stop on our half day on the water is helicopter island, named so because of its helicopter-shape, however the waves on this island certainly live up to its name. "I have sand in everyplace you can imagine - literally," Alecs shouts as we sit on the shoreline with the water literally sucking us in and the pushing us forcefully back out. As the sea sucks us in we are pulled along the beach as sand fills inside our shorts. When the sun has dipped low in the sky and a cool breeze runs over us we agree it's time to pack it in for another day.

Tomorrow will be our last day here in paradise and we are planning to re-visit some of our 

favorites and explore a couple new ones. We are very sad to be finishing this chapter of our trip but we know many more exciting things are to come.

So long for now,

Alecs and Meg in El Nido

"IT'S LIKE A CIRCUS UNDERWATER,"

EL NIDO, PHILIPPINES
Temperature: 36 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Bright Lights, Matchbox 20

"I can't wait," Alecs yells over the sound of the bangka (boat) engine, "I'm really excited to use our snorkels." We are sitting side by side on a wooden bench of a blue and white painted boat, cruising across the Philippine Sea to 'small lagoon', one of the many attractions here in northern Palawan. All around us we can see towering limestone cliffs jutting from out from the crystal blue water, the morning sun illuminating the tops of the palm trees and reflecting on the ocean below. Our boat driver maneuvers past a rocky island and upon turning the corner we see the 'small lagoon' in all it's glory. The driver shuts off the engine, gliding over the corals below. I hear a loud splash behind me as the captain throws down the anchor and we hop off the boat right into the water. "It's warm," I say excitedly to Alecs, "are your ready to go?" We pull our masks over our faces, bite down on the mouthpiece of the snorkel and stop to feel the salt water flowing over us. Following our guide, we swim through a large opening in the limestone karsts and find ourselves completely enclosed in a paradise of beaches. Treading water, we stop to admire the scenery around us, both in awe of the natural wonder we wish only the two of us knew about. Snapping photo's like mad, I find it impossible to take anything but good pictures as the towering rocks and sparkling water create a photographers dream. We swim along the outside of the oval-shaped lagoon where fish and corals line the ocean floor. Keeping our heads down, following our guides fins we suddenly loose him and surface to find him crawling into a cave. We follow suit, climbing over the sharp rocks into a cool pool of water inside the island. We casually swim to the back of the cave where it becomes much more cold and dark and our heads bob on the surface and we tread water to keep afloat. "Wow, this is awesome," Alecs says, "and it's only stop number one for the day," he adds, almost shaking with excitement. We spendmuch more time exploring the many corals and swimming around the entirety of the lagoon before heading back through the cliff opening to the boat. "Don't go over there," our guide tells us, pointing to an area close to our boat, "there are lots of tiger fish there and they bite." He explains that although their bite is not hard enough to pierce the skin it's still rather painful and these little fish are very territorial. "Duly noted," Alecs says, dipping his head under water to check out what they look like. "They're striped like tigers," Alecs says to me after we get on the boat, "we should make sure we avoid them at the other islands too." Back on the boat, the engine starts up and we putt along to the next lagoon on the agenda, 'big lagoon.' This place is the most photographed sight in all of Palawan (this part of the Philippines) and it's no wonder why. Here the water is too deep to see the bottom, but it's not what's underwater that makes this place so special. The limestone cliffs here tower over us, shooting high out towards the heavens, almost blocking out the sun. The motionless water reflects off whatever light seeps in and creates an almost magical, mystical atmosphere. Our guide points to a jagged end of the cliff high above us and in true Filipino style tells us it's shaped like Virheng Maria (Virgin Mary). "Actually," I say to Alecs examining the piece of limestone above, "it does look like the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus." We spend some time standing on a man-made dock in the middle of the lagoon trying to grasp the reality that we are actually here. "After seeing so many photos and reading so much about this place, I can't believe we're standing here," I say to Alecs. "I know, and it's so much better in person than any photo could ever depict," he adds, jumping back onto the boat. It's nearly noon now, and for Filipino's that means it's time for the third meal of the day - lunch. Inyang, our driver and Bong, our guide, collect wood around the sandy island and quickly start a fire. While we explore the small pebbly cove, covered in palm and mango trees Bong descales four fish in the water and Inyang cooks them over the fire. I stand in the sun, feeling the sand under my feet while the waves lap against the shore and an eagle soars above us. "Tanghalian na Mam, Sir (lunch time)" Bong shouts, snapping us out of our daze. We spoon rice, barbecued chicken wings and a whole fish onto our plates, find a log to sit on and dig in. "Swimming sure makes me hungry," Alecs says eating his third chicken wing and stealing some of my fish. "Back off get your own sandwich - I mean fish," I say, turning my back to Alecs playfuly denying him of my food. After several helpings of rice and chicken Alecs is finally full and we head to the water for more snorkeling. "Take these," Inyang says handing us each a small yellow banana, "crush them with your fingers and feed the fish," he adds. I give Alecs a surprised look and quickly dive into the water, banana in hand. Alecs quickly joins me and underwater we peel our banana's, crushing it in our hands and suddenly schools of fish are swarming us, each vying for their own piece of the fruit. A brave blue and yellow fish takes a bite right off the banana in Alecs hand and he looks over at me giving the thumbs up. We spend close to an hour feeding the fish and exploring the coral before we are called back to the boat, heading to another new place. We zoom across the sea to another island, a wave splashes against the side of the boat and I touch my tongue to my lips tasting the salty water. A school of small fish leap out of the water at the bow of the boat, disappearing almost as quickly as they arrived. "Did you see that?" I ask Alecs, nudging him awake. I point to where I saw the fish and luckily another school of them fly across the surface and Alecs is now once again awake. The boat coasts onto another pebbly beach and we follow Bong to a small hole in the rocks and after climbing through it we are rewarded with a small cove, and a cool pool in the middle. During high tide the water flows through the hole in the rocks filling the five-foot deep pool inside. Now, during low tide, visitors can climb through the rocks and get the chance to take a cool dip in a tranquil pool. Floating on our backs, we glide from side to side of the small enclosed cove, listening to the sound of water running into our ears. It's nearly four in the afternoon and Alecs and I are both completely exhausted after spending a day in the sun and water. We silently lean on each other, struggling to keep our eyes open for the duration of the trip back to El Nido. Bidding Inyang and Bong farewell we walk the half  meter to our guesthouse, quickly shower and head out fordinner on the beach. We stop at a small bar cum restaurant where a live band sets up on the stage and we each order some fresh seafood. The sun dips below the mountainous island to the west and laughing children splash in the water, diving off floating bangkas, enjoying the warm summer night. I of course befriend a stray dog with floppy ears and leave the restaurant still hungry after feeding more than half my meal to those pleading eyes. 

Before we know it morning has come to the small town of El Nido and busy shop owners open their Sari Sari's (tiny convenience stores) while fishermen bring in their catch to women who walk around with scales selling them off. Back in our hotel room we pack for another day of island hopping on the Bacuit Archipelago. After enjoying an included Filipino Breakfast of Longsilog (sweet sausage, rice and fried egg) at the hotel we walk out to the beach and meet our new boat captain. The smiling man before us has some of the most unique eyes I've ever seen and he introduces himself as Kuya (a common Filipino term, sort of like older brother) Jun (his name). Kuya Jun's 14-year old son asked to tag along to see the island himself as he has now finished his school finals and can finally enjoy summer. So the four of us and his helper for the day (his regulars grandmother just passed away and is of course not working at the moment) set off to see another set of islands here in paradise. Kuya Jun guides us into the sparkling waters of the first island where we spend an hour diving under the water, watching colourful fish twitter about the corals, splashing one another and feeling completely at home in the water. Alecs and I have always been happiest in water and we both agree that placing Siem Reap, Cambodia here on the edge of the Bacuit Archipelago, filling it with our loved ones and our dogs would be heaven on earth. "If only," I sigh, dreaming about the impossible as we head to secret beach, stop number two for the day. We follow Kuya Jun, wading in the crystal waters

below, strapping on our masks and snorkels and diving in. My breath is immediately taken away as the underwater view here is the most amazing of all. A circus act of fish speeding through the coral causeways of the ocean, dancing around one another captivates us both. Kuya Jun waves to us under the water and we quickly swim to his side. Below us a family of clown fish, or as I like to call them Nemo Fish twirl around the protection of a gel-like sea anemone (like really cook seaweed). I tap Alecs' arm, my eyes wide as saucers giving him the thumbs up. We dive under the water to get a closer look at these brightly painted fish that look exactly like

the ones in the cartoon movie 'Finding Nemo.' "That's unreal," I say to Alecs as we surface, giant dopey smiles on our faces, "it's just like in the movie." We continue swimming around the massive island rock and Kuya Jun dives below the surface once again and brings up a blue starfish for us to see.  "It's like a circus underwater," I say to Alecs as we come close to returning to the boat, "it's a completely different world under there." We talk about all the strange sea creatures we have just seen before continuing on to our lunch destination. The rest of the day is spent with our heads underwater pointing things out to one another, doing our best to evolve into fish. Sitting back at our usual restaurant on the beach, listening to the band play some Johnny Cash I notice Alecs swaying every few seconds. "Are you okay?" I ask Alecs,

a little concerned. Alecs laughs, "I still feel like the waves are hitting me," he says, "it's like vertigo, I'm moving to the flow of the ocean."

Tomorrow we may take a day off from island hopping but as for now, nothing is sure except that we will be in the water.

Until next time, so long

Alecs and Meg in El Nido 

"I TRAVEL A LOT; I HATE HAVING MY LIFE DISRUPTED BY ROUTINE"

PUERTO PRINCESA, PHILIPPINES

Temperature: 29 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Wonderwall, Oasis

"The forces are always against us when we try and visit the Philippines," Alecs says after we spend nearly two hours trying to get our boarding passes to fly to Manila. It seems the immigration laws have changed in the Philippines and all travelers now require proof of a departure flight before being permitted into the country. We were finally forced to book a flight from Manila to Hong Kong that was nearly triple what we should be paying in order to catch this flight. Luckily the travel agent gave us an address in Manila where we should be able to cancel our flight and book a new and cheaper one - fingers crossed!! So now we are finally in the terminal waiting to board our three hour flight, leaving Indochina in pursuit of the Philippines. "I'm dreading Philippine immigration," Alecs says as our plane lands on the tarmac in Manila, "it's just such a hassle." However, we arrive at four o'clock in the morning and find

immigration lines empty and painless and before we know it we are on our connecting flight to the island of Palawan. In January of 2008, Alecs and I visited Palawan and loved it so much we promised each other we must return. So here we are, only a little more than a year later we have returned to see what we missed before. "I can't believe we're back here," Alecs says as we check into the same hotel as before, "it's surreal." The remainder of our day and night is spent catching up on sleep as we have been awake for over 36 hours, traveling and missing Cambodia. 

"Ready to see the city?" Alecs asks after we finish a traditional Filipino breakfast of longsilog (sweet sausage). I nod my head and we join our tour guide to see the city sights - the first stop of which is a Crocodile Farm. Puerto Princesa mayor - Hagerdorn is something of a national figure because of his strict environmental conservation policies. A former illegal logger and fisher he works with protection organizations and locals to foster a relationship that benefits everyone. Eco-tourism is the main attraction in the island of Palawan and Hagerdorn understands the importance of

protecting the environment and all the creatures living in it. The crocodile farm is an educational centre where locals and tourists alike can learn about the species and their importance to the island. The massive bones of a crocodile - the largest ever found in Palawan - sit inside a glass box at the entrance. Alecs and I look at each other in disbelief at the sheer size of the massive prehistoric looking croc. Our tour takes us through the many stages of growth, from eggs to hatching's to teenage crocodiles and finally full-grown ones. As we exit the farm we find ourselves unable to pass up a photo op with one of the smaller croc's, paying the 100 Pesos to have an elastic band put around it's mouth. "Give it a kiss," the handler tells me, placing the reptile in Alecs' hands. Slowly I reluctantly lean over and timidly pucker my lips moving towards his toothy mouth.  Having survived our close encounter - okay maybe it wasn't really that close - we head to a Penal Colony close by. "This prison has maximum, medium and minimum security prisoners," our guide tells us, "the minimum security prisoners are give many rights." We pass rice fields and vegetable crops being tended to by prisoners who will harvest the crops, give half to the government and sell

 the remainder for their own personal gain. A prisoner rides his bike down a dirt road carrying a machete around his waist outside the gates. Min. security prisoners are allowed to live in colonies outside the prison gates (there is a limit to how far) with a leader who reports headcounts weekly. Upon passing through the prison gate (which has no walls beside it) we must give our names to the guards, who of course are prisoners themselves. "The government believes that by giving these criminals a chance to rehabilitate themselves they will once again become productive members of society," our guide tells us. We pass a large school on our left where the children of inmates can benefit from a public education, beside which is housing for prisoners families. We stop at a gift-shop where medium security inmates sit around joking with one another selling us their handicrafts. "I have to buy some of these things," Alecs says excitedly as he converses casually with these people. It's easy to forget they have all committed a crime, but as our guide said some might be illegal fishers or loggers, in other words they don't all need to

words they don't all need to be feared. "I like that system," I say to Alecs as we leave the prison, "it's not a detention centre it's a place where people can learn their lessons and integrate back into society and contribute something." Alecs nods his head, pointing to a prisoner driving a car to his house in a small colony just outside the prison.  Our city tour ends with a stop at lover's lane as I'd like to call it where we get to see a fantastic view over Honda Bay, the islands we visited last year. Just before we reach our hotel, Alecs tries his hand at traditional weaving - but I think the locals and I would both agree he should stick to his day job. Back in our hotel room we catch up on some phone calls and e-mails, talking to each other and reminiscing about Cambodia. "Wow, we've already done so much," Alecs says after we talk about all the different hotels we've stayed in, "it went by way too fast," he adds. Indeed this trip has gone by so quickly, but we have to remind ourselves that it has not yet ended, the next two years will be a great adventure unto themselves. "I like this quote by Caskie Stinnett," I say to Alecs, reading from a book of inspiring travel quotes, "I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine." We talk about our goals and dreams for the next few years and we both agree a more modest lifestyle at home with the ability to do big trips more often is success for us. "I 

like this quote," Alecs says laughing, "when preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money." I laugh, nodding my head, agreeing all too well with this Susan Heller quote that might as well be the motto for this trip. Talking well into the night, we drift off to sleep dreaming about the ocean we will see tomorrow.

In the morning we will catch a bus to El Nido where we will spend over a week at the Bacuit Archipelago visiting island after island, soaking in the sun and hopefully developing gills as we will be spending all our time in the ocean. 

Until next time so long,

Alecs and Meg in Puerto Princesa

Ps. We have added two videos to our post "WE'LL BE BACK, I PROMISE"

"I'M GLAD MY DOGS WON'T END UP IN SOUP"

HO CHI MINH CITY, VIETNAM

Temperature: 30 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Imagine, John Lennon

I forgot how bad the Vietnam war was," I say as Alecs and I stand in the War Remnants Museum of Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Upon stepping foot into the small museum we are bombarded with photos, stories and gruesome details surrounding the American involvement in Vietnam. As this war was one of the most well photographed conflicts, thousands of graphic pictures illustrate the pain and suffering so many thousands of people endured. Near the beginning one can't help but notice the anti-American sentiments depicted in both words and photos. A photo of three American soldiers smiling and posing beside two Vietnamese corpses

hangs beside a sign which reads, "this just shows how if you let the army get to you, it can seriously f*ck you up." A large cement well sits below a story about a platoon who raided a village and pulled out three children hiding in this well, killing them all. The photo of the three children's bodies, bloodied and indistinguishable make my stomach churn. Medal of Honour winner and Ex-Senator Bob Kerrey broke a 32-year silence about these killings as he said the guilt was eating him up inside - he maintains that his Navy Seal Unit killed the civilians. "I can't believe this place," Alecs says, "I knew it was bad, but this is just insane." Hundreds of photos of bloodied corpses or what remains of them litter the walls, but the photos of victims pleading for their lives are what strikes us the most. 'If they are dead, they were Viet Cong' a sign reads next to a maimed woman and baby. We enter the next section of the museum where victims of Agent Orange hang, their bodies mutated in indescribable ways, women, babies, young children - no one was immune, including American soldiers. After we have seen all the photos of horror, hundreds of children's drawings about war line the walls. A crayon picture of a burning house, a dead family in front, a black sky and US missiles in the

air was drawn by an eight-year old girl in northern Vietnam. "Eight year old children shouldn't know about this," I say to a scowling Alecs, "they're supposed to be drawing flowers and rainbows not death and war." However, there is hope under all this tragedy - another set of children's paintings portraying peace between all nations shows that some lessons have been learned. The last photo we encounter in the museum is of dead American youth who were gunned down in Ohio for protesting the war - showing that there were people who cared -citizens cared, parents cared, soldiers cared, but too many didn't care. Walking around the museum leaves us exhausted, not physically but mentally and we both nearly fall asleep on the way to the bustling market, located near the centre of the city. We think about all thehorror we've seen on this trip, horror that only touches the tip of that in this world. We are dropped off at the south entrance of the market where we get the full extent of the traffic in this city. The city centre is situated on the banks of the Mekong, a perfect final destination on our Indochina trip which has followed the Mekong River almost religiously since northern Thailand.  Ho Chi Minh city (also referred to as Saigon) is the largest city in Vietnam, although not the capital, and is also called the 'world motorbike capital.'  Nine million people call this place home making it the most populated city in all of Indochina and standing here at a roundabout there is no doubt in our mind to the validity of this. Anytime the flow of traffic is impeded

 by a stop light, hundreds (literally) of motorbikes mass together almost creating a black-out on the ground. "I've never seen anything like this before," Alecs says as we both stand dumbfounded watching the traffic whiz by. "I guess we should go into the market," I say after a while. The market is something else, something we've never experienced in the tons of markets we've visited thus far. In Thailand, Laos and Cambodia vendors might follow you around, call to you, flash souvenirs in-front of your face but never would they touch you. Here in Vietnam the vendors grab our shirts, pull us into their stands, throw t-shirts over our heads and forcefully try and sell us their goods. We know this is just part of the experience involved in visiting foreign countries, and we are the visitors who must adapt to their culture, but we can't help but remain on edge clutching our money tightly. We do manage to purchase some new sunglasses and some great t-shirts before making our way to the airport. Once in the airport we order some Pho Soup because there is no way we can come all the way to Vietnam and not have this traditional soup. "Would you like Beef, Chicken

or Dog?" the waitress asks me. Dog? I almost vomit at the thought of eating a Shadow or Klinker, but remind myself that I eat cows, which some people believe are sacred. "Chicken," I tell her, praying that no dog meat ends up in my soup, Alecs orders beef and I sit in silence thinking about my own dogs. "I'm glad my dogs won't end up in soup," I say to Alecs, who nods in agreememt. Our soup arrives and we both agree it tastes almost exactly like that in Calgary Vietnamese Restaurants. "Good," Alecs says, "but not much different than home." A whirlwind trip through Vietnam was no where near enough time to fully understand the culture, the people or the land, but we feel we have taken at least something away from our trip. "Busy," Alecs says when I ask him to describe Vietnam in one word, "it would definitely have to be busy." In a few hours at 1:00AM we will be boarding a plane to the Philippines, and then anotherplane to the island of Palawan where we should get our fix of beach time as we spend 11 nights in an ocean paradise. 

Until next time, so long

Alecs and Meg in Ho Chi Minh City

"WE'LL BE BACK, I PROMISE"

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA

Temperature: 31 Degrees Celsius

Track of the Day: Goodbye Blue Monday, Jeremy Fischer

"That was the most comfortable sleep I've had yet," Alecs says as we prepare for our final day in Cambodia. Yesterday we upgraded from the Golden Banana bed and breakfast to their resort villas to make the last day here extra special. However, after returning from Beng Mealea we were quickly whisked away from exploring our new room by Rattana who wanted us to experience a traditional Apsara dance show. Apsara is the national dance of Cambodia and is easily recognizable by the seemingly-impossible curving of the female dancers hands. We fill up our plates at the buffet of Khmer Barbecue, Asian and International cuisine before settling in

for five different performances. The first performance offers a taste of the Apsara girls but soon becomes a battle between demons and spirits. The dancers fluid movements command the stage and the audience is captivated by the control exuding from their bodies. "This dance is played in weddings," Rattana tells us as a group of young men and woman enter from stage right, leaping forewords and backwards, 

somersaulting in the air, twirling pink and blue scarves in the air and ending when the head Apsara girl enters. The drums beat louder, a young girls voice rings through the air as the Apsara leader and her brood of women finish off the night. We arrive back in our room very late and jump into bed before getting the chance to explore the place. "Look, we have a second floor," Alecs says the next morning, running up a set of stairs. Our room has a large king sized bed, massive bathroom with a rain shower (best shower we've ever had) and plenty of space to move around. Our second floor balcony  has two sun-beds and a large couch overlooking the tranquil pool and waterfall below. Behind a canvas curtain on the balcony we fins a large open-air stone bathtub with bubble bath sitting on the ledge. "I think I know what you're doing tonight," Alecs says 

smiling and trying out the outdoor show beside the tub.  Opening the mini-bar fridge downstairs I find a Mars Chocolate bar, the first piece of chocolate I've seen in two months. "I'm eating it," I say, pulling the wrapper back, splitting half with Alecs and savoring every morsel of taste. We make some call home using an impressive free WiFi connection where I learn my dad has received the Teacher of the Year Award after his first year of teaching - Congrats Dad and my brother made senior Rugby team - you still suck Sam. After telling my mom Cambodia is my favorite place I've ever been (including all the places in Europe I've seen) she cannot help but say "I told you so." Our visiting is cut short when Rattana arrives, excited about taking us to the Cultural Center. We know how much he has wanted to visit this made-for-Khmer exhibit and happily buy him a ticket to join us. Our first stop is a museum depicting the building of Angkor Wat, the previous kings of Cambodia and the current national figures. "That is King Suyavaraman IV," Rattana tells us, "and this is King Javaraman V," he adds, pointing to a statue. It amazes me how Khmer's know so much about their owns history, as it is heavily emphasized in grade school which is another example of their national pride. The three of us walk through the miniature village where all the national symbols, including Angkor Wat, Wat Phnom, Independence Monument and several others are depicted in scaled down, mini form. Meandering along the manicured walkways we stumble on

an archery station where two dollars gets Alecs and Rattana each ten arrows and a bow. "If you get one in the center you get a free bottle of water," Rattana says, reading a sign, "if you get all 10 you get $100.00" Alecs pulls the string back on the bow, releasing the arrow and narrowly missing his target. The three other Khmers sitting around us are intrigued by his impressive form as am I. By the time he has finished shooting all the arrows, three sit dangerously close to the bulls eye (but not quite there) and Alecs group of fans have now disappeared. "Now we go to the 2:30 performance in the mini-theatre," Rattana says as we return the bow and buy a bottle of water. The performance is a wordless dance in an outdoor theater where a Romeo and Juliet style love story is depicted. A beautiful maiden falls in love with a lowly peasant but her mother has plans for her to marry the rich and powerful king. The two men battle it out with leaps and bounds, back flips and somersaults showing their impressive strength and agility while the backup dancers support their on sides in the background. Luckily this story does not end in tragedy like that of a Shakespeare play. In this story the king steps down, admits defeat and

allow the peasant and the maiden to be united happily ever after. Rattana is grinning from ear to ear, so happy it spreads to us and we all walk with a bounce in our step to the next performance near the mock bridge to Phnom Penh. We pass a giant superman along route and Alecs and Rattana cannot help but pose behind it, looking like fools, but at least they were happy fools. The next performance is a traditional wedding where hundreds of excited Khmers watch in interest and Rattana tells us this is exactly how his wedding was. The emcee has black painted moustache and ridiculous eyebrows and the crowd goes wild when he talks and sings. I look over at Rattana halfway through the performance and he has been laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes. "I'm so glad we brought him here," Alecs whispers to me, noticing Rattana's tears as well, "this made his day and so it also made mine,"  he says. Unfortunately the performance comes to an end and Alecs and I must return to our hotel to pack and prepare for our flight to Vietnam. "When we come back," Alecs says to Rattana, "we will bring your daughter and wife

here and the five of us will watch every performance from 8AM-7PM," Alecs says while we leave. Rattana smiles, "I hope you will come back soon," he says sadly. Back at the hotel, we quickly change and head out for dinner at a nice place overlooking the city. I read Alecs the news from the Phnom Penh Post while he downs a hot-dog and fries and I a home cooked porkchop with roasted potatoes peas and carrots. "I'm really going to miss it here," Alecs says, taking a deep breath, watching the people move about their day. "Me too," I sigh, "but it's not goodbye, it's see you later." With that we saunter out the door, walking along the main street, turning left and arriving at the night market. Since we first came to the market, over a week ago we have wanted to try a fish massage and tonight is our last chance. "Ready?" I ask Alecs after tow staff scrub down our feet. We are about to put our feet into a fresh-water pool full of one-inch long fish who will nibble away the dead skin on our feet and toes. We set our feet in the water at the same time and hundreds of these little guys swarm us, covering every inch of our feet and I can't help but flinch. "That feels so weird," Alecs says, his eyes wide like saucers, "I can feel them biting me, but it doesn't hurt." In fact it down not hurt

at all, but the sensation of these fish tickling along the bottom, sides and top of my feet is an indescribable experience. A father drops off his two little boys who stand in the pool, their feet and hands submerged giggling profusely as the fish flutter around them, nibbling, sucking and biting off all their dead skin. For $3 each we receive this 15 minute massage and are fully satisfied with the results as we slip our now silky relaxed feet in our sandals. "That w

as the coolest thing," I say, "I'm so glad we did it." Back at our hotel we order fruity cocktails at the bar near our rooms chatting with the Khmer bar-tender well into the night. Alecs has a coconut mojito while I try a girly blue drink with vodka and curacao in it. This lights around the pool illuminate the small, cozy resort while the sound of the waterfall provides the perfect background to a perfect place. We finish our drinks, order two mango shakes to take to our room and head in for the night. Changing into our 

swimsuits we head upstairs to our outdoor bathtub, fill it with warm water and bubble back and take turns soaking in it. The stars are plenty, the water bubbly and warm and as I sip my mango shake I can't help but been blessed to be here, experiencing all this. We talk well into the night about what we've seen and when we'll come back and before long we have drifted off to sleep. "I can't do it," I say after we finish packing the next morning, "I can't leave, you're going to have to drag me out of this country," I whine. "Rattana, his wife and daughter are here," Alecs says sadly, "we have to go." Tears well up in my eyes and I try to fight them back as we throw our backpacks on the tuk--tuk. Rattana's wife hands me her daughter to hold for the trip to the airport and she stares at me with her giants eyes, clearly a little scared, but lucky for me she doesn't cry. I on the hand continue to fight tears, a lump is growing in my throat and my stomach is doing flips. All too soon we pull into the deserted airport and drag ourselves out of the tuk-tuk one last time. "Thank you so much for everything," I say to Rattana, hugging him and not wanting to let go. "Wait, I borrowed my friends camera," Rattana says taking a small silver camera out of a facecloth. We spend close

to fifteen minutes taking various photos of each other, not wanting this moment to end. Tears are pooling in Rattana's eyes and I can no longer fight mine back. "We'll be back, I promise," I say between sobs, "we are going to miss you more than you can imagine." Rattana wipes the tears from his eyes as do Alecs and I and we walk backwards, waving to the four of them (his niece came too) trying to hold this picture in our memories forever.

Now we are off to Vietnam, missing the amazing and wonderful country of Cambodia already, depressed about leaving here more than any other place. We know there is much more to see and do, but it's hard to leave Cambodia behind.

Until next time so long,

Alecs and Meg leaving Siem Reap

Couldn't get the videos up before the battery died, stay tuned for some great videos especially of the fish!

"THAT'S MY KIND OF MONK"

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIATemperature: 36 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Country Roads, John Denver

"Wow, do you see that," I ask Alecs pointing to a giant parade of people marching through the main-streets of Siem Reap with floats, banners and hundreds of colorful flowers. Alecs leans over me to look at the masses of people holding photo's of a monk high in the air. "What's going on?" we ask Rattana as he stops to watch the procession. "They're celebrating the life of the late king of the monks," he explains, "he was a great monk. He could speak many languages including the language of the birds and the dogs and the monkeys." Smiling I give Alecs a sly look  - "that's my kind of monk." Hundreds of monks, nuns (female monks) and citizens chant

prayers as onlookers pay their respects and local newspaper journalists hurriedly jot notes and take photos. A lazy dog stretches her legs behind us, Rattana kick-starts his moto and with that we are off. Beng Mealea is 70 km from Siem Reap, which means almost two hours on a tuk-tuk. Villagers sweep the dirt from their houses, lead cattle into the fields and bathe naked children in the river below.  A group of kids wave to us on their way to school, shouting 'hello' and smiling excitedly when we wave back. Alecs is wearing his Krama, a traditional scarf used by the Khmers in hundreds of different ways. A red Krama was part of the uniform Khmer rouge forced the people wear during the war, but the citizens of Cambodia have taken it back, making it a national symbol, now available in every colour. We point out all the different ways locals are wearing their Kramas to each other. "There's one," I say, pointing to an old man wearing a red one around his head as protection from the sun.  Alecs nudges me a few moments later,

 pointing at a baby swinging in a Krama in-front of the handle bars of it's father's bicycle. In the duration of the trip we see at least ten other ways to use the scarf. Enjoying the countryside and the people so much we are shocked to learn two hours has slipped by and we are now at Beng Mealea, one of the larger temples. Far marked from the path of tourism, but worthy of at least a few tuk-tuk's and a dozen tourists, Beng Mealea is a haven for the travellers soul. Almost entirely deserted, the temple built in the early 12th century was destroyed by the Vietnamese bombs and the Khmer Rouge, who had a strong-hold on it well after the war ended. A local man directs us off the wooden path, into the crumbling ruins of the massive structure. Unsure of where to go from here we climb to the top of the giant stones, wandering aimlessly until the

local comes to our aide as a guide. We follow him silently through the dark corridors until we reach an opening where he points out the library and stone carvings surrounding the wall. "The churning of the ocean milk," he says pointing out the demons and spirits fighting over the serpent.  The man pulls down a tree root hanging above us and uses it to swing to the other side of some fallen stones and then he signals for us to follow suit. I look back at Alecs, grabbing hold of the root, feeling a little like tarzan and a lot terrified. "Here it goes," I say, closing my

eyes, pulling my feet up to my chest and flying to the other side landing safely and thanking god a little. Alecs fearlessly swings to my side, clearly smug with himself and wanting to make up for being upstaged I nearly run to the top of the temple leaving Alecs behind. "This is actually one of my favorite temples," Alecs says after we tip the local for guiding us, "just because we got to climb all over it without restriction and there were no other tourists." Sadly we must bid farewell to our last temple in Cambodia for this trip at least and we somberly join Rattana for the journey back to our favorite city. 

Tomorrow is our last day here in Cambodia and it would be a lie to say we aren't on the verge of tears just thinking about it, but we must move on. We will be back, we must come back, this place is just too wonderful to visit only once. 

Until next time, 

Alecs and Meg in Siem Reap

Hopefuly we can upload photos and videos tomorrow, but the computer is running out of battery and we are using a restaurant WiFi and cannot plug it in. Please check back here after the next post is uploaded. 

"I PROMISE I WILL FINISH SCHOOL,"

SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA

Temperature: 28 degrees celsius (aka cold)

Track of the day: "Let it Be", Beatles

"The air is thick this morning," Alecs says while we wait in the hotel lobby for Rattana to arrive, "and it's really humid too." A calm silence fills the muggy morning air, a dog howls in the distance and we can hear the faint sound of motorbikes beginning to fill the streets. "I think he's here," I say to Alecs hearing the familiar sound of Rattana's bike coming down the narrow alley. Sure enough he pulls around the corner and we both jump from our seats to greet him. "It looks like it might rain," Rattana says, pointing to some dark clouds in the distance, "but hopefully not." Taking our usual seats in the back of the tuk-tuk we settle in for a long ride through the country to the temple of Beng Mealea. Just as we pass the busy market on the outskirts of the city we begin feeling drops of rain hit our faces. A motorbike passes us 

by where a sedated big lies upside down, hogtied behind the driver. Th

e sky becomes almost black and within moments rain pours down in buckets. "Do you want to turn back?" Rattana shouts through the sound of rain pounding against the pavement. "It's up to you, I can keep going if you can," Alecs yells. We all cover ourselves in ponchos and continue pressing onwards hoping the weather will clear up sooner rather than later. Sooner never comes and although it seems impossible it begins to pour ever harder. "This isn't fair to Rattana," I say to Alecs looking at him squinting through his helmet, the sideways rain hitting him in the face. Alecs nods his head, signals for Rattana to pull over and asks him to turn back. We treat Rattana to breakfast at one of our favorite places, a quaint community oriented restaurant serving vegetarian/seafood meals for very reasonable prices. The rain pours off the roof and we

 struggle to hear each other but still manage to have a great conversation about politics. It seems that like so many other developing countries that although Cambodia is democratic the peoples votes do not seem to matter. "It doesn't matter if we vote or not," Rattana tells us, "the people of Cambodia have no power." On our way back to the hotel Alecs and I both discus how we both take our freedom for granted and it only takes listening to the struggles of someone who doesn't have that freedom to fully understand it. "I want to take you to Baray for sunset tonight if it stops raining," Rattana says before dropping us off. "That sounds great," I say rubbing my ear which has been getting progressively more and more sore for the last couple days. "I think I need to see a doctor," I tell Alecs, trying to open my jaw after Rattana leaves, "I can barely talk because my ear infection is now affecting my mouth." Alecs of course becomes very concerned and we head straight to Good Na 

Restaurant to ask about doctor recommendations. Ate Cathy advises us to call Dr. Jun who will come to the restaurant to do a check-up that will only cost $10. Sure enough the doctor agrees to see me and prescribes a new set of drugs advising me that I have an inner ear infection. You gotta love having connections with people who will take care of you. Shortly after my check-up, Rattana picks us up and we head out to Baray. Baray (more commonly referred to as West Baray) is outside the Angkor Wat complex where the Mebon temple, or what's left of it stands.  The three of us hire a boat to take us to the island which is supposed to have wonderful views of sunset over the reservoir. Upon arriving swarms of children form a pack around us trying to sell their handicrafts. Alecs and I both tense up, not making eye contact and trying to ignore them, but after Rattana tells us sunset is still an hour away we decide to make friends. These kids, mostly girls are the 

friendliest vendors we've encountered yet and although Alecs can only speak one or two Khmer words he tries convincing them he is Cambodian. "You can't be Khmer," one of the girls says, "you don't speak it." Alecs smiles and tell them his mother dropped him on his head and he can only remember English. "You look Cambodian, but you don't speak so you cannot be," she says giggling and smiling. The children are all fascinated with Alecs who entertains them to no end. We walk around the small island as the sun dips in the sky and the beginning shades of red start seeping into the clouds. A large group of European tourists arrive on the island and all but one of the children leaves our side. "Why don't you go sell to the prang (foreigners)," Alecs says to his new friend. "Because I'm going to stay with you. she says smiling" Rattana tours us around the ruins telling us it's entire history, and by entire history I mean every possible detail you could think of. "Should we break our rule?" I whisper to Alecs as the sun falls behind the clouds, "and buy some postcards from her?" Many of the children selling goods at Angkor Wat do not attend school and for that reason we never buy from children as it encourages their parents not to enroll them in classes. However, this 14 year old girl says she attends school during the day but comes here at night to help her family out. "What classes are you taking?" Alecs questions her, "what exactly are you learning?." He asks her where her school is, how far away it is, how she gets there, what her favorite 

subjects are and when he's finally convinced she attends school and plans to continue her education he asks her to make him a promise. "You have to promise me," Alecs says looking directly at her, "that when I come back here in ten years you won't be here, you can be whatever you want to be if you go through with your education," he tells her. "I promise," she says, looking deep into Alecs' eyes, "I promise I will finish school." With that, Alecs and I break our rule and buy some postcards. "You remind me of my cousin Jhoy," Alecs says as we board our boat, "good luck and stay in school," he shouts as we leave the island. Cambodia and it's people have a long way to go, but Lonely Planet describes it as the 'comeback kid of the century' and I think we'd both have to agree.

Tomorrow we will again attempt to visit Beng Mealea, weather permitting of course.

So long for now,

Alecs and Meg in Siem Reap

Photos are taking FOREVER to upload so hopefully tomorrow's connection will be better and we will post them.