Friday, May 13, 2016

A Good Night's Sleep Does Wonders


Friday, May 13, 2016
A good night's sleep does wonders




I was still sleeping soundly this morning when Kent returned from the local grocery store with a turnover he heated in the oven.  A good cup of coffee, a little map study, and off we went.  Yesterday's balmy sunshine had turned to chill and gloom, but I enjoyed the green hills dotted with new lambs, yellow broom, and occasional bluebells when I wasn't "helping" Kent drive and figuring out how to use the GPS.

Had we remembered this morning that the date was Friday the thirteenth, we might have been even more jittery when we set off in our fancy rental car, up our narrow twisting street, past parked cars jutting out at odd angles, easing onto the motorway through confusing roundabouts, remembering always to keep to the left and searching for the right slot in the six-speed shift.  Kent did a good job, with a little help from the driver seated to his left, and we managed to get to Perth and back again with only a few wrong turns and scary moments.

We spent 3 hours in the genealogy and historical Iibrary in Perth, but even with the help of a very kind librarian, found no new information about Kent's ancestors, and only a little about the area from which they came.  About 4:30 we headed out, punching "Fossoway," the birthplace of Kent's 3rd great-grandmother, Lilias Taylor, into the GPS.  "You have arrived" the voice announced on a country road without a house in sight.  So, we continued on.  We never did find Fossoway, although I'm sure it is there somewhere, but we did arrive at Rumbling Bridge, where we went for a walk.  Lilias's brother David Taylor had traveled from Andes, New York to visit his birthplace in the 1830s, and in a poem about his journey mentioned Rumbling Bridge -- a scenic spot the librarian had told us -- where the River Devon rushing through the rocks below makes the bridge rumble.


Rumbling BridgeWikipedia 




We also stopped in the town of Dollar, a pretty place with a castle on a hill behind the town.  While trying to get a better view of the castle, we encountered the Dollar Academy, founded in 1818, a time when Kent's Burns and Taylor ancestors would have been living in the area.  When we got home we discovered that Craiglaw Farm, where Lilias was born in 1797 is still in existence and very near the end of our walk along the Devon.

A Marks & Spencer Food Hall near the entrance to Dunblane provided easy makings for dinner, and we enjoyed a peaceful evening in our little cottage after the challenges of the day.




Thursday, May 12, 2016

Scotland: Jessie the Flower of Dunblane

Thursday, 12 May
Windyhill Cottage, Dunblane, Scotland

Tonight we sleep in the cosy cottage of Windyhill in the charming historic village of Dunblane near Stirling, Scotland, where we will stay for one week.  After an overnight on Jet Blue from Albuquerque to New York yesterday, we had enough time and energy to go to into Manhattan. While purchasing our subway tickets we were surprised to encounter Milena Milenkovic from San Francisco on her way to her Smith College Reunion.  We hugged, took pictures, and went our separate ways.  


Our Manhattan visit included  spying a woodpecker in Washington Square, eating breakfast at the Gray Dog (disappointingly weak coffee), walking the entire Highline trail (marveling at all the new construction), lunching at the South Porch in Bryant Park, viewing exhibits in the Public Library and strolling up Fifth Avenue, with quick looks at Rockefeller Center and St. Patrick's Cathedral before grabbing the E train back to JFK.  I stretched out on the floor near the Icelandair gate, only mildly concerned about what others might think (while Kent pretended not to know me).  I must have dozed a bit before boarding the flight to Reykjavik.  

I was disappointed to have only one hour in Iceland.  I loved the small airport where we were not required to go through immigration or security before boarding the flight to Glasgow, and where people got on the plane in any order.  Because Iceland was covered in fog, my most memorable sight was the faucets in the restrooms that both washed and dried one's hands. No complaints about Icelandair, and next time I will do a stopover.

Wedged into a middle seat again, with a generously sized woman on one side, and Kent on the other, I did manage to sleep a bit before our arrival in Glasgow.  Kent did a great job getting us here in our rental car, a rather nerve-wracking drive mostly along motorways punctuated by signs uncannily reminding us, "Do not drive when tired."  

Cottage owner Alastair McDonald welcomed us and showed us the ropes.  Scottish bluebells are blooming in the garden of the historic cottage on a site that was the home of  "Jessie, The Flower of Dunblane." 






A brief nap, dinner down the street at the Churches House Hotel, a walk about town and on the riverside footpath, a wee dram of whisky, and we call it a day (or two).

 

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Posts from Patagonia February-March 2016: Linnea Hendrickson and Kent Kedl

F




El Chalten, Los Glaciares National Park, Argentina.
Saturday, February 27, 2016

This is a very special place:  a little village of small businesses 
in the center of many hiking trails into the National park, with a backdrop of the incredible rock towers of Mt.Fitzroy (named after the captain of Darwin's Beagle), and surrounding towers, peaks and glaciers.  We have spent two days hiking here, with two more to go before we head back to El Calafate for a short night, then back to Puerto Natales, Chile for one night before heading to 5 days and 4 nights of trekking in Torres del Paine National Park in Chile.

A big thrill yesterday was seeing a flock of 4 or 5 Magellanic Woodpeckers as we returned from Lago Capri.  This was a relatively short hike of 4 km each way, but quite steep.  Today we took it easier, but still had a beautiful hike with views of the mountains as clouds cleared while we rested at the base of a big rock in a high meadow.  This walk involved quite a climb, too, and we were warm enough that we were in shirtsleeves by the time we reached our stopping place.



We have also enjoyed connecting with Eva Borsody Das, whom I first met in Morocco in 2009, and her friend Virginia from London, sharing evening meals in restaurants here and in El Calafate.

There is no cell phone service in El Chalten, and almost no businesses take credit cards.  Internet is via satellite, and very slow.  Kent and I are staying in the lovely Hostel Patagonia (an IYH hostel), where we have up-graded to a room with private bath since we found out that the price of a room had fallen by a third (because of the dollar's strength relative to the Argentine Peso) since we had booked it in November.

We are having the best weather we have had since our trip began, with some wind,  but sunshine and mostly clear skies.  


Torres del Paine. March 2-7, 2016


Torres del Paine
Paine Grande Refugio

This is the morning of our 4th day of the W hike in Torres del Paine National Park, Chile.  The hiking has been much harder than we anticipated.  There are a handful of walkers who may be over 50, but most are fit young folks in their 20s and 30s who zip past carrying packs much larger than ours and quickly disappear on the trail ahead.  I was amazed yesterday as I pondered how to navigate fallen logs and twisted roots to see a lithe young woman in bright yellow jacket hesitate for just an instant before leaping on top of the log that was a foot or two above the ground and continue on her way while I stood by in awe.  Likewise, at a steep slope with ropes and thigh high boulders, a young man in bare feet skidded down an alternate dirt route as I painfully negotiated each step of the rocky descent.

The scenery is spectacular with blue lakes, rushing streams, glaciers, and and towering pinnacles all of which constantly change in varying light and with our slow progress around them.

We have seen little wildlife.  One bird on a lake yesterday afternoon, the loud tap of a woodpecker, small sparrows looking for dropped crumbs, and yesterday a black and white hawk buffeted by the strong winds that suddenly arose, nearly knocking us over at times.

We are stiff and tired this morning after a very long day up the Frances Valley yesterday.  We did have a long night sleep with nice sheets and duvets in a six-bed dorm room all to ourselves.

Ferocious winds.

Later in the day, March 5
Grey Refugio

3.5 hours is the suggested time to go 11.5 km between Paine Grande and Lago Grey.  Well, it took us about 5.5 hours, lots of steep rocky climbs and descents.  When I thought we had perhaps half an hour to go, we came upon a sign indicating we were only a little more than halfway.  The overlooks to the Glacier were magnificent, but the winds were almost too strong to stand in to look.  Our room at Paine Grande was lovely, with windows looking out on lake and mountains, while from here, where I thought we would see the glacier, we have no view other than of a mountainside with burned forest.  And here we have other people in the room--at least 5 of us.


Above: dorm room at Los Chilenos

Our first days on the W hike
Day 1
Leaving my larger back pack and Kent's smaller one with books, my Antarctic parka, our electric toothbrush, my iPad, and all but one change of clothes, hats and layered jackets behind at Pire Mapu Cottage, we took a 7:30 a.m. bus to   Torres del Paine, then once through entrance procedures, took another shuttle bus to the Las Torres area, walking along a road to the hotel where we used the restrooms.  We passed guanacos along the entrance roads, and bright pink flamingos in Laguna Amarga.

The day was sunny and surprisingly warm, and we hadn't gone far, crossing a bridge over a rushing stream, before I shed my fleece, zipped off my pant legs, removed my lightweight long-sleeved shirt, and slathered on sunblock.  This was the warmest I'd been since leaving Buenos Aires over a month before.

The trail climbed relentlessly with little shade for over two hours.  I wrapped my bandanna around my head under my hat to keep the sweat out of my eyes.  Many walkers passed us, as I struggled to catch my breath and we found a few places to rest near the occasional gaunt tree.

At last we reached a summit and other hikers joined us from an even higher trail, the shortcut from Los Cuernos that we would take down the next day.

A descent, then more uphills followed, but at least here much of the trail was fairly smooth.  At a rushing steam walkers filled their water bottles.  We were told the water in the streams was safe to drink, and we did drink it, with no apparent ill effects.

Finally, far below us we saw a green roof among trees in a narrow canyon beside a rushing stream.  The building looked so small!  But it was our home for the night, Los Chilenos Refugio, which I had booked months before: dinner, a bunk with a sleeping bag, breakfast the next morning, and lunch the following day.  I was glad we had brought our silk sleeping sacks, as I'm sure the sleeping bags and pillows did not receive frequent washing.

We were given an enthusiastic welcome, brief tour, and explanation of the rules, then headed back out into the sunshine to eat our snacks, surrounded by many other  walkers.

We then walked further up the valley for another 2 hours, stopping at the base of the 45-minute steep climb to the Los Cuernos overlook, which probably would have taken us much longer.  I regretted not making the climb, which would have been another 1000 feet in elevation gain, involving scrambling on all fours, but we were others tired already after 4-5 hours of mostly uphill climbing.

We made it back to the Refugio in time for 7 pm dinner with ample time for showers fresh clothes, sitting by the stream in the last of the sunshine, and visiting with other walkers, many of whom we would meet again in days to come -- a very Camino-like experience.  We purchased glasses of wine and sat on benches at long tables, eating huge slabs of tough meat, some kind of lumpy orange vegetable and potato mix, and a sweet dessert.

I think we were asleep before most of our other bunk mates (in stacks 3 high) had arrived and before the sun had set.

Day 2.  Los Chilenos to Los Cuernos.  We left early, meeting four young women on the climb out of Los Chilenos.  We would meet them often again, and I came to think of them as our muses or chorus urging us onward.  It was good to walk in the cool of the day, up and down many hills, past lakes and waterfalls and circling below spectacular peaks.  Rough though the walking was, it was one of our easier days.  We had booked a private cottage with a double bed with sheets.  The cottage was nice, with skylights, but nowhere to hang anything.  We hung our towels and shirts and underwear we washed on the porch railing.  The bathrooms, reached by an overgrown, but thankfully short trail, were not the greatest with toilet stalls so tight you couldn't shut the doors before sitting down, and rather crowded showers, but with hot water for which we were grateful.  We had another communal dinner on long tables and benches in a crowded dining room.  To my amazement, the young man who'd shared our room at Los Chilenos handed me my headlamp which I'd been regretting, and berating myself for having left it in my bed that morning.

We also had access to a hot tub, a wooden barrel heated by a wood stove.  Unfortunately it didn't look all that clean, so we gave its miss.  In the morning the fire had gone out, but an empty beer bottle stood beside it, so apparently someone had enjoyed it.

Day 3
From Los Cuernos there was a steep slog over to the Italian Camp and the Frances Valley.  Then a very steep climb up the Valley to spectacular views of the Los Cuernos, the horn-like peaks.  The climb up the Frances was estimated to take 2.5 hours one way.  We climbed up for about 3 hours on some very rough trails, reaching one beautiful overlook (mirador), that was crowded by a group  taking endless group pictures and then singing!  It was hard to begrudge them their good time, but it was also impossible to concentrate on the view or even enjoy our lunch.  So we moved on to a sandy stream bank without an expansive view, but the sounds and views of rushing water.  We did not make it quite to the end, but turned back at a high stony open space.  After returning to the Italian Camp, we rested a bit and then still had 2.5 hours (estimated) to go to Paine Grande.  Much of this trail was fairly smooth walking, but during the last hour we finally met the famous fierce winds of Torres del Paine.  It had been Avery long day, and when we got to the reception desk at the Refugio, they couldn't find my records.  So I had to dig through my papers to find them.  I was so tired, I could hardly stand up.  Fortunately we were given a room to ourselves with beautiful views.  We paid extra for bedding, as I hadn't realized that blankets were not included although we had our sheet sleeping sacks and towels.  Someone actually came with us and made the beds.  We joined some of the others we'd met along the way for dinner.  I could hardly move, my legs were so sore. Even walking ups down the stairs from our second floor room to the ground floor bath rooms was agony.  I slept very long hours those nights in Torres del Paine.

Frances Valley


Rocky overlook in the Frances Valley -- as far as we got before turning around.  Our longest, hardest day.


Grey Glacier


Farthest overlook we reached 5-6 km beyond Refugio Grey.

We finished the W hike on Monday morning, walking back from Grey to Paine Grande in just 15 minutes more than the suggested time of 3.5 hours.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Christmas Greetings 2015


Christmas 2015



Above: Jesse, Psyche, Saad, Linnea and Kent


Dear Friends and Family,

Although it is great to keep up via Facebook and e-mail, it is also nice to get real mail and printed pictures, so I am sending out yet another Christmas letter.  I was surprised when the young woman presenting a class on the iPhone camera emphasized that it was important to print pictures that you want to preserve, even if you have backed them up elsewhere.  I treasure the old photos I look at as I work on family history, and I am so very glad to have them.  Some old technology is not dead yet.  Young people are now collecting vinyl record albums that many of us threw away years ago (I’ve got mine). Despite reading some books on Kindles and iPads, we also treasure “real” books.  Kent, of course, is waiting for electricity to fail, so we’ll return to typewriters.  Quill pens, anyone?

(Apologies to all of you who are receiving this only via blog and email:  but you do get to see more pictures! I also just found a mistake in the printed letter, which I have fixed here.  If you can find it you get my proofreader of the year award!)

We have had a relatively quiet year since our return from our Far East adventures, traveling no father than California, Iowa, Minnesota, South Dakota, and Michigan.  We loved Iowa!  And no, we’re not running for political office (although maybe we should).  It was great to get together with a lot of relatives in both Michigan and Minnesota. Sadly, Kent’s vibrant sister-in-law Phyllis Hendrickson Kedl lost her long battle with cancer in October.


Family Gathering in June at John Hendrickson's (standing, l-r): Keith Hendrickson, Linda Hendrickson, Don Hendrickson, Betty Hendrickson, Dale Hendrickson, Tammy Hendrickson, Jerry Hendrickson in doorway behind Tammy, Betty Bergquist Honold, Herb Honold, Mary Ann Peterson, Joe Garnett, Sherri Erickson Garnett, John Hendrickson behind Sherri, Cindy Hendricks, Mike Hendricks, Jane Bruemmer, Doris Hendrickson.  (kneeling in front): Linnea Hendrickson, Mike Hendrickson, and Jeanette Hendrickson.


We had some wonderful visits with old and new friends, including Jenny and Jim Quinn from Australia, whom I had not seen since 1989! The recent loss of so many dear friends and family members and the serious illnesses of several others, has inspired me to “do it now!”


Jim and Jenny Quinn with Linnea and Kent at the Golden Crown Panaderia in Albuquerque


So, I will be joining cousin Connie Hendrickson on a two-week trip to Antarctica beginning on February 1.  Kent will meet me in Ushuaia (the southernmost city in the world) on February 14 ª.   We will then sail (on a cruise ship, not in a small sailboat as Kent would like to do!) around Cape Horn to Punta Arenas, Chile.  We have planned two multi-day walks in Patagonia, and will fly home from Buenos Aires on March 23.  During the last week in May we have scheduled a week’s stay in the Shetland Islands, halfway between Scotland and Norway. 

The big project this year has been Kent’s kitchen remodel, which will continue well into 2016.  You can see a small bit here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUNdnc7uiuo
This week we will be without the kitchen sink.  Christmas baking will have to wait.

I have finally found a welcoming church home at St. Michaels and All Angels Episcopal, a congregation that has welcomed several refugees from the wonderful old Aquinas Newman Center from which the Archbishop dismissed the Dominicans in 2014.

Lots of people beg on street corners in Albuquerque.  The other night while waiting at a red light, I tried to read a fellow’s lengthy sign, then looked into his eyes.  He gave me a sad bit of a smile and a little wave.  I was reaching for my purse, wanting to give him something, when the light turned green.  I could have made a right turn and circled back through a parking lot.  I should have, but I didn’t.

 I thought of a letter my grandmother Hulda received in 1942 from a man then living on Como Avenue in St. Paul, MN.  Her husband, Rev. John Hendrickson had died in 1915.  The envelope was addressed to “Mrs. Rev. John Hendrickson, Stephenson, Michigan” and bears a three-cent stamp.
                                                                       
October 29, 1942



Dear Mrs. Hendrickson,


Just received your address this morning and am so glad that I can send you the monney [sic].  In 1892 (winter) Rev. Hendrickson saved me from starving.  He give me food and shelter for one day and night and when we parted he give me 5 five dollars, a kindness that can never be repaid to him, and I am so glad that I can send it to you now.  I am sending you 10 ten dollars and hope it will reach you in good health.  Again thank you, 

Alfred Edwall.


A kindness remembered for 50 years!  Maybe that young man on the street corner will remember that I looked into his eyes and connected with him as a person, but I could have done so much more.  Maybe he will remember that I didn’t give him anything.  I will remember that.  Although I’m not sure that giving money to beggars is the best we can do.  How can we care for those most in need in this most wealthy and fortunate country?

It is easy to be discouraged in these dark, violent, troubled times, when so much is wrong in the world.  But, perhaps it has always been so.  This is the season when we welcome light in the darkness – light that can help us see what is right to do.

We wish you all light, peace, and joy.

Kent and Linnea

Kent's son Jake Kedl, with daughters Rachel, Melanie and Vanessa Kedl, Christmas 2014

Linnea and Kent with Saad Hasan and Psyche Philips at Yosemite Falls, November 2015







Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Journey's End

Last Stops in Asia

We arrived in Singapore in mid-afternoon via two buses from Melaka, with a bit of trudging around with our packs to a money-changer in the heat of the day, then to a subway we didn't take, and finally back to a hotel next to the money-changer for a taxi that dropped us here at this quaint and a bit grand B and B, L Residence, that we'd learned about from Jeanne and Ross and finally managed to book after several unsuccessful attempts.

Kuala Lumpur


We had enjoyed our two nights at Traders Hotel in Kuala Lumpur City Center, with its big-city five-star luxury at reasonable Kuala Lumpur prices.  We had a view from our room of the Petronas Towers and the lovely park where we did some bird-watching.  We spent our first evening people-watching in the nearby shopping mall that was decorated for Christmas, and crowded with shoppers, most of the women wearing colorful robes.



The next morning we headed to Chinatown on the subway.  The stop was near the beautiful Masjid Jamek, where we were warmly greeted and required to don a robe with hood (me) and a skirt (to cover his bare knees, Kent).  We had a lovely conversation about Islam with a young woman volunteer who had studied in Terre Haut, Indiana. This oldest mosque in Kuala Lumpur was one of the friendliest I've ever visited, and obviously has a mission to enlighten visitors about Islam.



Chinatown was hot and chaotic with street markets.  We didn't stay long, then decided to walk to the botanical gardens: a mistake!  We went back through Merdaka, the central square with its engaging mix of Tudor-style timbered buildings on one side and Romanesque arcades and buildings topped by Arab domes on the other.  The gardens were quite a walk up hill, and with the heat and humidity we were soon hot and sweaty.  The tourist information had said there was a shuttle to take us around the gardens.  But, we walked and walked, and there was no sign of a shuttle.  The butterfly house, we were informed, had been replaced by a parking garage.  We gave up, took a taxi back to the hotel and went to Harrod's for tea.  Not a full-fledged Harrod's by any means, and the tea was nowhere near as extravagant as those at Albuquerque's St. James Tea Room, but nevertheless it was a nice break.  From there we went to the Sky Bar at Traders to watch the sunset from cushioned seats next to a window.


After awhile an older Western man arrived with a beautiful young Malaysian woman in high heels who sat very close to him.  He studied the menu, and then she took many pictures of him posed against the windows with the towers behind him.  I didn't think she was his daughter.  Before we left I asked if they'd like me to take a picture of both of them together, but they said no.

The following day, sorry to leave our posh hotel room, we nevertheless hoisted our backpacks once more, walked to the subway, and took the train to the long-distance bus terminal, which was absolutely the cleanest, most modern and sparkling bus terminal I've ever seen.  We bought tickets for a bus leaving for Melaka in 15 minutes, so there wasn't much chance to explore the terminal.  We had good views from our seats near the front, of miles and miles of palm plantations.  The roads were modern freeways, the traffic smooth and fast.  We were definitely not in Cambodia any more.



Melaka

There isn't really all that much to see in Melaka (Malacca) despite its Unesco World Heritage status, but we enjoyed the city, especially the river, and the views from the top of the hill with its ruins of St. Paul's Church, a statue of St. Francis Xavier with his right hand missing (there's a story there), and the Porto de Santiago and the Straits of Malacca below.  A free guided walking tour of the historic areas was very well done and a nice contrast to the more commercial elements that seem to be taking over the town.  One of the oddest and most amusing sights was the crazily decorated bicycle rickshaws, many with Hello Kitty or Winnie the Pooh, or Disney themes, also wildly lighted at night.  It was fun to see traditionally garbed mothers and their children enjoying these colorful rides.








Written from home

Singapore:  Singapore provided a great transition from the chaos of Southeast Asia to the U.S.A., to California, and finally home to New Mexico.  Staying at L Residence was like staying in a family home, and we were very comfortable there.  On our first morning, Kent left yesterday's sweaty clothes lying on the floor where he'd left them the night before.  When we returned after a long day of sightseeing, they had been washed and folded and left in a laundry basket outside our door.  We took a boat ride on the river, ate lunch at a riverside restaurant, then walked to the legendary Raffles hotel where I had a Singapore Sling and Kent had a beer at the Long Bar where the drink was invented.  We asked about the display on the history of the hotel, but we were told it had been removed.  I enjoyed a few minutes in St. Andrews church, where a display of sheep, wise men and shepherds was being set up in the yard.  We had a two-day transit pass, so hopped on a bus to get out of the rain, and eventually ended up we didn't know where.  Back again, in search of Orchard Street, where to my delight  I found another bridal wedding shoot. We decided to come back when the lights were turned on, and ended up accidentally taking the MRT the long way around to our Botanic Garden stop.  When we got there, rain was pouring nonstop.  So, after waiting awhile, we went back to Orchard Street where we had dinner and saw the Christmas lights, so odd to us in the rain and heat.  



Upon our return, we walked through the garden in the dark, feeling a little nervous, but there were an amazing number of people walking along the paths.  When we came out the other side of the park, we had to ask for directions.  It turned out to be a fun stroll (something I'm not sure we'd try in an unfamiliar American city), but even in the relative cool of evening we were dripping wet when we got to our house.  I took off everything -- elephant pants, t-shirt, and underwear and washed all in the sink.  In the air-conditioned room everything was nicely dry by morning.




We spent our final morning exploring the entire Botanic a Garden, had lunch in a nearby deli, and headed back for final showers and changing into the traveling clothes that would take us from sweltering Singapore to 50 F San Francisco.  I put on leggings and gray skirt and put socks and my merino pullover in the small under-seat pack.  It turned out that I got so cold in the air conditioned Changi Airport that I put on all my layers and even got out one of the shawls I'd bought in Malaysia, before we even got on the plane.  



A German Fairytale Christmas Castle in the Check-in area in Changi Airport

San Francisco

I cried when we set down in San Francisco.  We'd been gone so long, had made it through the entire trip with no major mishaps, and now it was finally almost over.  We were safely back in our home country once again.


Psyche and Saad were there to meet us, and we spent the next day and a half with them before the last short flight to Albuquerque, where Mike and Susan met us and had the heat on in the house.  It had snowed that morning, and has snowed again since.  We've bought a Christmas tree and are trying to get ready for Christmas and the arrival of Kent's son and three teen-aged granddaughters.  Ah, Lazy Beach, you are so far away! 





Sunday, December 7, 2014

Paradise with Ants: Last Afternoon at Lazy Beach



Paradise wasn't perfect.  Of course we do live in a fallen world, but the beach here is probably the loveliest I've  ever experienced.  Clean sand, clear water, gentle waves, no crowds, and perfect temperature of both air and water.  A little trash floated up each day-- there is trash everywhere in Cambodia -- and staff and visitors picked it up.  The beach, the privacy, and the reefs for snorkeling at each end were all wonderful.  Our bungalow was the next to the last one, and a good walk along the beach from the bar and restaurant.  It was also one of the most private, meaning we could hose off at the outside faucet and remove our bathers there, and even sit on our porch and be hidden from all but a small patch of beach where few people passed.  Hornbills ( a new bird for me), flitted through the trees and one perched for a long time.   We also saw a black squirrel with white-tipped tail -- almost like a skunk!



We had a metal box with padlock in which to put our valuables (money, credit cards, passports, binoculars, camera, iPad and phone and Kindle, camera, and a bottle of gin.  We needed no money, just gave them our room number at the bar.



What wasn't perfect?  I was often hot, and longed for air-conditioning, especially when it was humid and no breezes blew.  Our bathroom was full of ants.  Also our porch.  After yesterday's rain, there were mosquitoes.  There is also a resident mouse -- probably several.  We did have an electric fan to blow after sundown when the electricity went on until just before sunrise, but it was hard to adjust  to be comfortable. To reach the bathroom we went down two steep ladder-like steps, a bit of a challenge.  The toilet flushed with water dipped from a large tub we refilled from a faucet above it.  The shower was all in one with the room, so everything in the bathroom was always wet.  There was cold water only.  I much preferred to rinse off at the outdoor hose, although it wasn't long enough to make a decent shower.  We had resident mice, and there was a leak in the roof when It rained, plus fine yellow dust constantly sifted down through the thatch.  The floor was wide boards with wide spaces open to the ground a couple of feet below.  For $60 a night (fairly expensive forCambodia), this was more like an expensive campground than a beach resort.  No credit cards, a website, but no online booking.  We had to get someone to call, then call again two days before we arrived to confirm,. The sheets on the bed feel more polyester than cotton, and are wrinkled, scratchy, and hot.  When one of us moves, the whole bed shakes, and we've done a fair amount of tossing and turning.  We pay for drinking water.  We brought a large bottle with us.


We bought a bottle of white wine and some Sapphire Blue gin and tonic water before getting on the boat, but how to get ice?  We ended up putting the wine bottle in the dipping tub, which at least made it less than hot, and got ice from the bar in glasses on the first night, as there were none in the room.  It was mostly melted by the time we walked back here.  The next evening we brought a ziplock bag.  It also didn't last long enough.  Finally, last night we asked if there was a thermos or ice bucket, and bartender Matt offered us a whole bucket of ice, which we wrapped in the clean towels we'd just asked for, and finally had more ice than we could use.


There is no room service, and in fact little service of any kind.  You order your food at the bar, although it is brought to your table.  Everything costs extra: breakfast, all meals, drinks, mask and snorkel rental, and the boat ride to the island and back.  The bar/dining/lounge area has books and games, and there is a ping pong table in an adjacent thatched roofed building.  One disadvantage, which we've found everywhere in Asia, is that there are a lot of smokers, so we are always trying to find a place upwind from someone.  The dining room is open from 7:30 a.m. Until 9 p.m., with no set mealtimes.  At the end of our 4th day here, we are ready for other food, although the food has been quite good. If you want your room cleaned, you have to ask before 10 a.m.  We have swept the floor ourselves with the little broom, easy since the sand drops through the cracks.  It would have been wonderful to have had a thermos of hot water to make coffee or tea in the morning, and to be able to sit on our porch to watch the sunrise with a cup in hand.


The staff, mostly young men, probably mostly from Australia, with a support crew of Cambodians is friendly.  I still don't know who actually owns this place, however.

The snorkeling, particularly at the far end of the beach closest to us, is quite nice. This morning we went all the way to the end of the point on this end, seeing some very nice coral and quite a few fish, with quite good visibility.


Yesterday morning, after quite a night of rain, lightning, and thunder, we took the path through the jungle for 20 minutes to a beach on the far side of the island.  There were many more people there, and several different resorts that did not look nearly so good as Lazy Beach.  The beach, although longer was not as pretty or open to the sea as this one.

We look out onto the Gulf of Thailand, toward the west.  Tonight just at sunset a huge cruise ship passed.  Otherwise we have seen mainly small fishing boats, some made of chunks of styrofoam bound together.



I have absolutely loved floating in the warm sea.  I would stay in forever, but tonight I'm feeling a bit hot from so much sun.  Now it is night and the moon is almost full, so maybe I can slip in for one last swim without having to struggle with my bathing suit.


Oh, no.  After a perfect sunny day, with perhaps somewhat lower humidity, I now hear thunder and see lightning flashes. I may have to forego my moonlight dip.

Tomorrow morning early is the boat back to the mainland (Sihanoukville), and then the bus ride back to Phnom Penh, where I've reserved a room at the old Bougainvillier Hotel on Sisowath Quay for just the one short night before our 8 a.m. flight to Kuala Lumpur where I haven't yet booked a hotel.  I suspect I'll have many moments of wishing to be back here floating in this lovely sea.

5:25 a.m. Friday, December 5.  I finally went to sleep despite continuously flashing lightning and loud thunder.  It is still lightning this morning as the sky begins to lighten barely perceptibly.  I remembered how the tide was out farther than we'd ever seen it when we walked along the beach late in the afternoon, and I thought of the tsunami that hit Indonesia over New Years a few years ago.  I suspected a tsunami would wash right over the low parts of the island and completely cover the area between us and the beach on the other side.  Would the boat be able to go in the morning?  Will we make it to the bus to Phnom Penh, and to your flight tomorrow?

The dark is lingering longer than usual.  I cannot see any details in the sky.


Postscript;  I did slip out for a dip in the early morning darkness but the sea was gray in the dark, not shimmering turquoise.  It was a long day of travel with a two-hour layover between boat and bus.  The Mekong Express VIP bus was much more comfortable than the Golden Bayon bus taken earlier, and it had free wifi on board that was actually worked most of the time.  Kent read his book, and I put on my headphones and listened to music.  We got stuck in Friday evening traffic once past the airport, making us an hour late arriving.  Tuk-tuk to hotel Bougaivillier, nice old place on the Quay with great bathroom and four poster bed.  Time there was too short.  After showers with hot water in a real bathroom, we drank up the last of our gin with a can of tonic from the room fridge, shared a small margarita pizza on the rooftop bar, then had a brief walk along the Quay.  All too soon, 6:30 a.m. departure for the airport, and farewell to Cambodia and hello to Kuala Lumpur.  

King of Cambodia

A bit blurry, but loved this scene from our final tuk-tuk ride to Phnom Penh airport.

Note: We have been happy with Air Asia, a no frills Southwest Airlines of Asia.  Clean new planes, on time, nice enough seats, especially for flights of under two hours, and easy to book online.   We've managed to be under their weight and carry-on limit without paying to check luggage.