Sa Pa is completely unlike anywhere I’ve been so far on this trip. It’s in the farthest northern reaches of Vietnam, only ten miles from the Chinese border. It sits at 4,691′ elevation and neighbors Vietnam’s highest peak – Mount Fansipan – at 10,311′ above sea level. Big vert….

There are five different ethnic tribal groups here – the Hmong, Dao, Tay, Giay and Xa Pho. The Vietnamese from the lowlands – known as the Kinh – never colonized the highest valleys of the north.

The weather here is completely different than everywhere I’ve been – mid to high 40’s, totally fogged in and very damp. Haven’t been able to see Mount Fansipan or my hand because of the weather, which is a bit of a drag, but no worries – I know they’re there.

These women sell a multitude of handbags, clothes and knicknacks. They engage but don’t hassle you, and were cool with having me photograph them.

Don’t get this one mad…..

The Hmong street children are beyond beautiful and precious. They’re given the responsibility, at incredibly young ages, of taking care of their younger siblings while their mothers work elsewhere in town. It’s a family affair…. What’s interesting is the absence of their fathers around town. I assume they’re out working in the fields or elsewhere while their wives and children ply visitors for income. The youngest ones velcro onto you and follow you down the street wherever you go, holding up tiny trinkets for sale and locking eyes with you, until you succumb or they’ve walked too far from their home base, after which they turn around and go back. It’s so sweet and yet sad at the same time when you realize that they’re working for a living at the tender ages of three to six – before even starting school. There were no mothers anywhere near these little ones – I never saw them look around for their moms or hear a mother call out to them. Wow.

This little gang blew me away

Contemplating his toy….while selling trinkets

An observation about Vietnam, with the caveat that I’ve only been in Hanoi and Sa Pa (and the 200 miles between them) so far – people here are on the make. They size you up as a foreigner and try to extract what they can. Very mercantile, and they’re not bashful about doing so. I’m told there’s a dual pricing structure here – one for Vietnamese and the other – often vastly inflated – for foreigners. That doesn’t leave a good taste in your mouth, but there’s not a lot that can be done about it when you look totally western.

Heading out to hike in the fog. Hopefully it’ll clear up a bit.

Got back to Chiang Mai several days ago and it was really nice to return. This is such a nice town – the vibe, the scale, the sights, the people and food are all wonderful. I stayed in the Old City, which is amazing. Old, of course, but beautifully preserved, and the number of historic sights is off the charts. I settled into a nice routine and recharged a bit after the big drive up north and back.

Looking back at some cool sights in Pai, this is the Wat Pra That Mae Yen Buddha. It’s on a large hill outside of town and is reached by climbing around 500′ from its base. Once you’re up there, you look up another 60′ at its majesty. Amazing and really serene. I had it to myself on a perfect day and lingered for a while.

The owner of my hotel’s son. So cute.

Long neck tribe woman outside Pai

I didn’t take this photo. The  women showed much displeasure when I raised my camera to photograph them, so I had to find a stock shot. Nonetheless, this is just how they look and dress. Incredible.

Easy rider…..

Back in Chiang Mai

Temple doors

Drove up to the Chiang Mai Elephant Sanctuary, where old, mistreated and ill elephants are made happy for their waning years. This place was truly magical. No one other than me was there, and I got to feed, shower and just watch these beautiful creatures in awe really close up with no barriers between us. What’s so cool about elephants (these ones, for sure) is that although they’re massive and incredibly powerful, they are extremely gentle and smart. It was a real treat to hang with them for the afternoon..

This dude was taking a leak or looking for some action….

If she doesn’t look happy, I’ll eat my hat

Heading back down to Chiang Mai

In town again 

A chosen one

Today started off a little weird. I arrived at the Chiang Mai airport at 6 am intending to fly to Da Nang and onto Nha Trang on the central Vietnamese coast. Alas, not to be as originally planned…. When I attempted to check in for my flights, Air Asia told me that they couldn’t issue a boarding pass because my Vietnam Visa application had an error with my name and that I’d be denied entry in Da Nang and deported. The problem was an “R” instead of “Richard” for my middle name, but they said Da Nang was super strict and in essence, “No tickie, no shirt…”

Onto Plan B  – I bought an afternoon ticket to Hanoi, as the airline said they’re more chill up north (must date back to Ho Chi Minh) and would let me in (and Air Asia would issue me a boarding pass, most importantly) with the seemingly insignificant error in my Visa application. That just reordered the Vietnam leg, so all’s good.

I arrived in Hanoi this afternoon and got settled in at my hotel in the old quarter, then meandered around and had some incredibly good food and Vietnamese beer. I cruised around the old quarter and was treated to an absolute mass of humanity – an ant farm, really – compressed into and moving through tiny streets, with people eating everywhere, and as I strolled along, feeling groovy, I heard Norman Greenbaum’s Spirit in the Sky  wafting out from a coffee house. Rock on. After that, a two hour massage took the edge off the long travel day. Time for some rest. Been a long one.

By the way, I have not seen one rain drop in over four weeks of traveling. Didn’t want to jinx myself, but had to mention it. Batten down the hatches back home, children – I’ve read that it’s wild and wooly in much of the country.

Northern Thailand is exquisite. I’ve been poking around its far reaches the past several days, brushing against and into Laos and Myanmar, and have meandered  through the bullseye of the famed (and infamous) Golden Triangle, the stuff of legend back in the 60’s and 70’s, including the Mekong River. It brought to mind some wild visuals from Apocalypse Now, with Martin Sheen cruising upriver in a PRB, .50 caliber machine guns at the ready, in search of Colonel Kurtz. It all came back as I was sitting on the Mekong in Chiang Khong having lunch and daydreaming. Here’s a map of my meanderings since arriving in Chiang Mai from Bagan as a visual aid:

I’m about 500 miles N/NW of Bangkok now, and debating whether to drive down there before heading to Phnom Penh for the start of the Cambodia leg of the trip.

Some observations might be interesting and are kind of called for around now, as the trip nears its half-way point. Indonesia, and Bali specifically, was beautiful but quite crowded where I visited. Jakarta was a maelstrom of humanity and poverty. Life flowed seamlessly in both places, however. What I always view as most important when visiting somewhere new is my impression of the people. The Balinese people are so incredibly happy, sweet and chill that it’s hard to imagine anyone outdoing them in those departments. Well, maybe the Dirtbags…..

The Burmese people have very little, as their country has been wracked by political and military turmoil and corruption for decades, and where I visited, Mandalay and Bagan and their environs, were really impoverished, arid and not particularly pretty. Nonetheless, the people there were extremely kind and polite. They had almost nothing, yet they gave of themselves freely.

One observation that rings very clear so far is that everyone with whom I’ve come in contact has been completely honest, and I’ve never felt that I have been in any personal danger despite poking around some, shall we say, interesting places. In addition, no one has tried to charge me more than they would a local for anything, and I’d know if they had, as you pick up on that pretty quickly on the road. That’s wonderful. No mining of tourists for extra cash. Honesty rocks.

By the way, there are virtually no public trash cans here, yet there is no trash on the streets or elsewhere. People leave property unattended everywhere, and it’s not stolen. In addition, there are plenty of dogs pretty much everywhere I’ve been, many of which look like strays, but they are all super chill and they don’t beg or bark. Seriously. Funny observations in a way, but clearly noticeable.

The culture and religion here, primarily Buddhist, infuses people with humility, kindness,  love and honesty. Children learn to meditate in grade school here, and the calm it provides infuses society and creates an unmistakable social bond. How about a big dose of that for the States? Boy, would that be welcome right about now.

One striking feature of traveling here is that virtually every town has its own temple, and they are so amazingly beautiful and ornate that I struggle to comprehend how they are paid for in light of the level (or more appropriately absence) of wealth here. Everyone must donate inordinate amounts of their money, resources and time to build and maintain these spectacular places. That tells you what’s really important to these people. How nice in the grand scheme of things.

I’ve also not witnessed one disagreement, argument or shouting match during the past four weeks, and I haven’t heard anyone raise their voice towards anyone else. Everyone is completely respectful towards others. People wait in line politely and calmly everywhere and bow their heads humbly after interacting. The harmony and tranquility are so nice, and raise the question of how we, in our country, have gotten to the deplorable and divisive state that we’re in today. OK, enough soap box….

A total digression – Billy Joel’s Summer, Highland Falls came on this morning while I was listening to tunes and the lyrics “They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known…” rang out and vibrated powerfully through me. I feel so blessed and grateful for the opportunity to experience these places and the people who live here, in many cases much as their ancestors have, for centuries. These are, in fact, the best of times because life is what you make of it. Really cool and fun in so many ways.

Back to reality and some photos. These are from the Chiang Rai environs. Amazing sights nearby.

The Baan Dam Museum, otherwise known as the Black House outside of Chiang Rai, was very interesting and bizarre. It’s not one structure, but an assemblage of over forty in wildly varying sizes, shapes and materials, conceived and assembled by the Thai artist Thawan Duchanee as an interpretation of Buddhist philosophy. Its size, style and overall feel reminded me a great deal of my next door neighbor Philip Johnson’s estate in New Canaan, where buildings, galleries and sculptures of substantially different styles, materials, sizes and configurations join together over 48 acres to form a completely harmonious whole.  Here are some images from the Baan Dam Museum:

I know it’s art, but I have absolutely no idea of its intrinsic meaning. Pretty funny to me as a guy, though. Dude must have serious back problems cartin’ that thang around….

After Baan Dam, I went to Wat Rong Khun, otherwise known as the White Temple. This completely blew me away. It was conceived and built privately by Chalermchai Kositpipat, the Thai artist and architect, and opened in 1997. White was chosen as the temple’s exterior color, which was until then unheard of in historic temple design, to reflect the Buddhist notion of purity, and innumerable small mirrored glass pieces adorn it and reflect even more light from its core. In addition to the White Temple, numerous other buildings grace the property. It was truly sublime.

You have to see this temple to believe it. Photos simply can’t capture its magnificence and awe.

Notions of joy and peace juxtapose with those of pain and terror. Very interesting to experience.

Matt had a good idea on the name of the blog. I created it three years ago for my first Australia trip, hence the original name of Adventures Down Under. Instead of recreating the wheel for this trip, I just continued (and hijacked) that blog in the name of efficiency, but its name wasn’t really appropriate anymore in light of where I’ve been and am headed on this trip. So, here’s the new and improved look:

Early dinner stop at a street market on the road to Pai

Yum

Photos from last night and this morning en route to and in Pai:

Hill Tribe womanGotta believe James Cameron cribbed these lovelies for Avatar.

Met this fellow on the way to a huge waterfall. He was sooo happy.

These folks too

Sleeping angel on the street

Late afternoon

I went up to a spectacular waterfall this afternoon and had an interesting experience on the way back into town. Six automatic-weapons armed Thai police stopped me at a makeshift checkpoint on the tiny road, asked me some questions and requested that I agree to a search of my body, my pack and the car. They were looking for drugs (duh – we’re in the Golden Triangle…). I acceded, they patted me down, checked my pack and the car, and all was good. They could not have been more polite and respectful, although memories of Tulum momentarily flooded my mind. No worries, mon. Off to dinner and a cold Singha….

Tonight while cruising around Pai’s Sunday night street fair. Pai is a super cool, hip and fun town. Maybe a tad too hippified, but fun for sure. Really glad I came, as it’s off the beaten path and a bit of pain to get to.

These girls were singing and dancing to raise money for a local scholarship fund. They were quite shy, but very friendly. Loved the hat on the little one.

That’s it for tonight. Gonna hit the hay and get some rest for tomorrow.

I’m in Chiang Rai as I write this, arriving yesterday after grabbing a car for a week and driving three hours from Chiang Mai on improved and not so improved roads.

The flight out of Bagan was interesting, to say the least. The name of the airline – Mann Yadanapon Airways – should have told me everything I needed to know. I booked what looked on their website like a non-stop flight to Yangon, Myanmar’s capital, and ended up stopping three times en route. Long morning, but fortunately we arrived in Yangon in one piece.

Chiang Mai is simply amazing. My hotel was two blocks from the Old City, complete with moat and walls, which was fantastic. Here are some early evening shots. These temples are made of intricately carved wood and are perfectly preserved from eight hundred years ago, when they were built.

Wat Bupparam Temple

Wat Chiang Man Temple

Wat Chedi Luang Temple

Sweet couple at their food cart

Hope I’m not being boring with these temple photos, but they are awe-inspiring to see. Hard to do justice to them in photos, but thought I’d try.

Yesterday morning in the old City’s market:

This blind man was walking through the market singing softly. He had the voice of an angel. So beautiful.

So, it was off to Chiang Rai yesterday by car. That’s my preferred method of travel so that I can head where I want when I want and not worry about schedules and other stuff.

Chiang Rai is special. The town bustles and pulses, yet has a very calm air. Walking around was easy, as my hotel is only five minutes from downtown but in a very peaceful spot.

Here are some shots from yesterday:

The town’s clock tower

Street food vendor

I had a transcendental experience yesterday afternoon in Chiang Rai. I walked into an empty temple late afternoon and sat down in the quiet to reflect and chill. About fifteen minute later, six monks walked in, smiled and began their prayers. Even though I didn’t understand what they were chanting, their words and musical intonations resonated completely through me and struck chords deep within. Totally awesome, and I had to pull myself away long after they finished and left. A great experience.

I’m off to visit some impressive and unusual temples and settlements outside of town today and get out into the countryside. More to come afterwards.

Bagan is really far from everywhere. Perhaps that’s why its incredible heritage has remained almost completely intact for a thousand years. It took over seven hours on an old, dusty bus to get there from Mandalay, but it was totally worth it. It’s a World Heritage Site, and for very good reason.

Bagan was once home to thirteen thousand brick temples, pagodas and stupas built between the 9th and 13th centuries. Many have been damaged or destroyed by earthquake, man or time, but almost four thousand remain, and they astonish and mesmerize you over and over. Even though the temples of Bagan are ancient, the people of Burma (this is what they prefer to be called, as Myanmar is a name created by outsiders) consider them to be sacred.

I toured them in a group on e-scooters yesterday. What a gas. I traded the first one they gave me, which I thought was the childrens’ model, for a full sized model and we were off. Ripping around on dusty dirt roads (these scooters were fast with their electric torque) and rounding bend after bend, only to behold yet another spectacular sight, overloaded the senses in the best possible way.

Here is a series of photos on our temple tour that kind of defy description, so I’m just gonna shut up and let them do the talking.

There are nine temples in the background by my count, and this is representative of the fact that they’re literally everywhere, sometimes only fifty or so feet apart.

Whimsy outside the gate

This was the first and only time I’ve seen two Buddhas next to each other. They represent two brothers who fought to the death to assume their King father’s throne.

Our guide Mauing, born and bred in Bagan, who was incredibly knowledgeable, interesting and fun to be with.

I asked this woman, who was selling postcards, if I could take her photo after I demurred on the purchase. She said yes, then I tried to pay her and she refused. I ended up buying the postcards to make myself feel better and it made her smile. The people in Myanmar ask for nothing and they have so, so little. Their grace is wondrous.

Young temple guardian and monk

A beautiful young girl seemingly peering into the future

The next morning, I struggled with how to make my exit from Bagan – by boat, bus or flight. I decided to fly out, as the time and distance to Yangon was over ten hours (forget about heading anywhere else – you’d grow old before you got there) and I might have been on the river for weeks….

Back to Thailand tomorrow, this time up north to Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Chiang Khong and Pai. All are supposed to be pretty amazing and representative of the cultural and spiritual center of Thailand. Can’t wait.

Wow.  Jakarta, Indonesia’s massive capital, sits on the northwest coast of the island of Java. The mix of cultures spans centuries – Javanese, Malay, Chinese, Arab, Indian and European – and they have all influenced its architecture, language and cuisine.

Indonesia is the world’s fourth largest country in population – over 260,000,000 people – and the world’s largest muslim nation. It’s the world’s seventh largest economy but ranks only 23rd in per capita income. Five percent of the population owns 49% of its wealth. Not a recipe for long term happiness or success…..

Jakarta is incredibly dense and poor, but the traffic is mellower than in Bali. You still take your life in your hands when crossing a street, but there are openings here and there that you feel you can survive by going for it.

By the way, Indonesia makes a really good beer – Bintang Pilsner – that has been a joy to cool off with this week. Paul – it’s almost as good as Bud. You’d love it.

I walked ten miles (maybe more) today, pretty much freelancing around and throughout the city, and was overwhelmed by its grittiness and poverty. Having said that, everyone was really friendly. Calls of “Meesta” rang out everywhere I went, and smiles and small talk then ensued.

Here are some photos of what I saw:

Dinner anyone?

This floored me. These folks were cleaning out the sewers by hand. Yikes.

Contemplating the day.

Water purification in action, the old fashioned way….

This reminded me of the scenes in The Deer Hunter before the soldiers were lowered into the river….

Catnap.

This little boy was adorable, working alongside his father.

Schoolgirls after class. They were so excited to see a westerner.

Catchin’ some zzzzzs… Amazing.

Not the nicest ‘hood.

Pretty sure he was alive, but wouldn’t bet on it.

Young ladies at a little restaurant I ambled into.

The food here is absolutely incredible. Some of the best anywhere I’ve been. I just ate fantastic seafood – different fish, octopus and shrimp, for an hour at dinner, until I really couldn’t eat anymore – and the bill (including tip) was $3.70. Seriously. May have to start dieting…

Today’s lesson – be grateful. These people have so little – almost nothing – and they’re moving through the river of life with grace. I didn’t see a lot of smiles today, but I also didn’t feel any anger or resentment, and I walked through some pretty tough neighborhoods. Powerful lesson indeed.

Bali has a beautiful and very chill vibe. The Balinese people are incredibly sweet and kind, and it’s genuine – not an act. The parts I’ve seen are super crowded but beautiful, especially the innumerable temples. What also strikes me is that getting around on the road, although it borders on complete chaos, works amazingly well, no doubt because of how mellow everyone is.

I know one thing for sure – I would never drive here. Normally I rent a vehicle when I arrive somewhere and figure things out on my own. Here, the streets are a procession of speeding cars, trucks and motor scooters that all works seamlessly and seemingly without effort. The frenetic pace on the roads and in traffic appears to be a hair’s breath from total chaos, yet it somehow works perfectly. Wow.

No traffic lights, lanes or yield signs, yet no horns sound and everyone simply weaves in and out of the ever moving motorized maelstrom that surrounds and swallows them. If you’ve been here, you know what I mean. It’s very different from other third world countries I’ve visited, where chaos reigns on urban roads and you sense that a collision or accident is going to happen every second (and they often do). It must be the nature of the Balinese people to be so chill while negotiating what to me are hair-raising escapades at high speeds behind the wheel or handlebars. I was blown away. Random theory scientists would do well do stop in and check things out here.

I did something yesterday that I virtually never do – I played tourist rather than finding my own way around to the things I wanted to see. Because I said no to driving, my hotel recommended a guide and driver for the day, and he turned out to be one of the kindest, most patient individuals I’ve ever met. Gusti knew so much about the temples, forests, dances, waterfalls, wood carving shops and everywhere else that we went that I just sat back and had a grand time. Very cool.

Yesterday was a visual and aesthetic treat for the eyes and mind, so I think it best to let some photos do the talking now. Batwan Temple:

Entry to terraced rice fields (yes, they’re a tourist attraction here).

Wood carving shop. Thank you, Steve Gold, for your suggestion to check these out. Really incredible handiwork on display, all of which is done purely with the carvers’ imagination.

The way of the world.

Monkey Forest. He looked pretty chill until he chased and tried to bite me (apparently the reflections of my water bottle entranced him).

Waterfall entrance. Why would you need to evacuate here? It was a couple of hundred feet above the falls.

This little guy is gonna have to grow into those ears.

Off to meander through the streets and hit the beach today.

The past two days were spent watching the scorched landscape of Western Australia whir by. It has been over 110F here every day this week and has felt like a blast furnace when you step out of the car or whatever air conditioned building you’re leaving. The mercury has climbed relentlessly as I’ve traveled further northward, closer to the equator, and there’s a distinct feeling that if you’re not in the shade with lots of water, it won’t be a good day. There are innumerable ways to get snuffed out up here, and nature doesn’t care. Definitely not for the meek of heart.

A word about the Outback and the Aborigines who live there. Australia did to its natives what the U.S. did to its – destroyed their culture, moved them from beautiful places where they’d lived in complete harmony with nature for eons and corralled and condemned them into completely worthless and desolate places where no one else would ever want to be. It was really sad to see the level of poverty in the Outback settlements and road houses where I stopped for fuel and food – people dressed in filthy, tattered clothes, with no shoes, looking completely forlorn but, like in the States, clutching cell phones. They – the original inhabitants and stewards of this great continent – were clearly not happy campers. It’s such a strange juxtaposition, and suggests that after performing cultural lobotomies on these poor folks, they’ve been given the drug of connectivity to make them forget about just how horrible their lives actually are.

Australia is a land of immense contrasts – cool and mountainous with precipitation on the east and southern coasts, scorched and barren in the Outback and western half, together with incredibly pristine beaches set against deep cobalt seas on every coast. The difference between east and west is that you can get to all the stunning beaches on the eastern and southern coasts. In the west, they’re almost completely inaccessible because of the lack of roads and population centers. Exploring the west coast by boat would be an amazing experience. Sir Francis Drake must have had a blast.

Here’s my path since landing in Perth and heading south to Margaret River before turning north. I’m glad I took this drive even though it was not very scenic, because the Great Northern Highway is rarely close to the coast (although it looks otherwise on maps, which distort because of distance and scale) and despite the fact that the temperatures and fierceness of the landscape were mind blowing. It’s a fascinating, otherworldly spot on the planet and its scale is, in a word, immense. Overall, very cool but if you come to Oz, I highly recommend the east coast all the way from Cains in the north to Adelaide in the south. There’s so much to see there, together with incredible culture, and the grandeur and beauty of those places is truly extraordinary.

Some photos of Darwin last evening. This is a really nice town / city. I was here three years ago and enjoy being back. What’s fascinating is that 140,000 people live here now and it’s literally thousands of miles from everywhere else in Australia – just a lone outpost that the Aussies decided to build and expand for commerce and which the Japanese bombed and invaded in World War II. You’d never know you’re in the absolute middle of nowhere if you flew in. It’s lush and green, being in the sub-tropical zone, and the vibe is very laid back. The end of the road, so to speak. Here are some shots taken down on the harbor yesterday afternoon.

Well, it’s time to bid Australia adieu for now. I’m off to Bali later today. Looking forward very much to seeing that jewel.

Things have gotten interesting and I’ve experienced a bit of a revelation the past several days. I knew that the west coast of Australia was big, having driven around much of the rest of the country and having looked at maps of this side of the continent countless times, but I really didn’t fully grasp just how frickin’ enormous it really is until now. The scale of vastness here make Utah and Nevada seem crowded and cramped. Really.

I started northward in Margaret River and arrived in Broome today, 3,471 kilometers later, racking up 2,152 miles so far, and I still have 1,161 miles ahead of me before I reach Darwin, from where I’ll begin the southeast Asian part of the journey.

Most folks who know me know that I love to drive. That’s probably a really big understatement. The stories are many – and many of them are crazy – but there’ something about the open road and visiting places I’ve never been that completely enthralls me. Well, on the west coast of Oz, you drive and drive and then drive lots more. Then you gas up and keep on  truckin’. Settlements, and gas stations or roadhouses, as they’re known here, are extremely spread out and few and far between. You fill up whenever you see one so that you don’t end up like the roadside skeletons dotting the way who ran out of gas or water or couldn’t quite get out of the way of a fast-moving vehicle.

What’s even more interesting is that in order to hit the extremely infrequent beach towns, you have to drive a hundred to two hundred miles off of The Great Northern Highway, making the journey that much longer.

If the scenery is interesting, or better yet, compelling, I’m good with doing that. Here, so far however, it has been bleak, vast and incredibly hot and inhospitable. The air feels like a blowtorch all day long. No doubt that’s why so few people have settled here compared to the east and southern coasts, which have mountains, forests and cooling precipitation.

Western Australia has been a resource extracting asset for the country for centuries, and a number of the largest natural resource and mining companies on Earth are Aussie. In a sense, it’s a good thing that the natural resource-rich areas here are in places that you’d never want to live. The unspoiled parts of Australia, and they are countless elsewhere, including Tasmania, would be very difficult to rip apart and tear up in order to extract and sell Oz’s resources to the world.

Someone driving a very big rig needs new tires….

So there you have it – a long and circuitous journey with some beautiful and very remote beach towns tucked away like hidden jewels on the Indian Ocean and hundreds and hundreds of miles in between all of them.

Broome, where I arrived today, is in what’s known as The Kimberly Region – way up north and filled with national parks. What I’ve found is that the natural wonders  here are pretty much canyons and caverns. They go down, not up, and my strong preference when thinking of scenery is mountains and the sea, preferably both together.

OK –  I’m off to take some photos. Be back in a bit.

Early evening on the beach:

These folks were having their own private party, complete with lights:

Then it got interesting.

Give up? Here’s a closer look.

Camels on Cable Beach at sunset are a long-standing tradition here in Broome that was started by a chap after converting to Islam and crossing the Outback by camel. Whoa….

Anyway, I’m off to The Kimberly en route to Darwin. Supposed to be filled with adventure and amazing scenery. We’ll see about that…