Chile is really big – 2,700 miles north to south, although it is simultaneously quite narrow – 276 miles at its widest and only 40 at its narrowest. The Andes Mountains, which run its entire length, are the longest mountain chain on Earth and second highest after the Himalayas, spanning 5,500 miles north to south and scraping the heavens with their highest peak, Aconcagua (which I’ll see next month), at 24,000’. Chile possesses quite a unique shape and topography, which substantially hindered its conquest by the Spaniards.
Starting out in Santiago and heading southward somewhat bisected its length for me, and I’ll leave the Atacama Desert and its northern wilds to another trip.
I made a big push the first three days in order to get to Pucón and the Lake District. It is a stunning area, with volcanos, snow clad peaks, lakes and dense forests seemingly everywhere.
Volcán Villarica, just outside of Pucón, in its winter coat (it’s mid spring here now):
Pucón is a cool, yet pretty touristy town relative to everywhere I’ve been so far. More first world than second or third. Lots of everything, yet the great outdoors beckon in every direction and you’re in the wilderness in a kilometer or so whatever direction you point your compass. I resupplied with food and excellent Chilean Pilsner (yippee), and was off to Parque Nacionál Villarica and the Argentine frontier, approximately 40 km southeast of town, accessed through a big climb. Pretty spectaular hiking and climbing all day, with great scenery en route:
A gaucho moving part of his herd:
Not sure I’d choose this outfitter – looks like this guy didn’t fare too well:
My home away from home these six weeks. Pretty darned comfortable and a lot of fun to travel in. I’ve got a mountain bike, spare petrol, water and miscellaneous other gear and necessities stowed up top:
Approaching Volcán Lanín, en route to the Argentine frontier:
A little excitement in Currarehue, on the way back from the frontier, where I stayed last night. Someone’s house caught on fire and the entire town turned out to watch the firefighters fight and extinguish it:
Volcán Villaríca from the east, en route to Licán Ray. It was venting on the northeast side, with the snow turned ashen grey. People here live in constant vigilance with these two active volcanos, which emit steam, ash and on occasion, pyrotechnic flows.
I’m chilling in Licán Ray now, about 35 km south of Pucón. What a postcard perfect little hamlet, ringed by scenic mountains and bordered by Lake Calofquén:
Off to mounain bike. Should be fun, with lots of single track in every direction. Will check in soon…
Getting here was a breeze. I flew through Atlanta with a short layover, as there are no non-stops from SFO to Santiago.
After picking up my camper downtown, I wanted to walk the old city, but the weather was fast changing with a storm moving in, so I headed for Viña del Mar on the Pacific coast. I’ll walk the historic district when I’m back in December.
Once out of the bowl in which Santiago resides, the weather broke and beautiful blue skies appeared.
Viña del Mar and its sister city, Valparaiso, entertain urban Chileans more than tourists, and as such drew me towards them. Viña, as the locals call it, was a center of sugar cane and fishing historically, and now moves sun and sand seekers in and out. After checking into my hotel, I meandered through town in search of a Chilean SIM card. After a little frustration (neither Entel nor Movistar, the two national communications giants, had any in their retail stores), I came upon these young ladies selling them in an Entel pop-up location. Game on.
Wired (wirelessly), I meandered back to the hotel to resort my gear and ask for a great local restaurant. Mattio, the owner, highly recommended Donde Willy, several blocks away, and after wrestling with the silly name, I moseyed on over.
What an awesome treat. I was greeted heartily by Mario, the owner, and spoke with him about my trip before talking about his background and what they served. I put myself completely in his hands, and he rewarded me richly, bringing me incredible food and wine and regaling me throughout my meal with great stories. One of the most intriguing was that of the Carménère grape, a Cabernet Sauvignon variety from France, which was rediscovered in Chile after being killed off in France by the Phylloxera bacteria a hundred years ago and thought to have disappeared from the planet forever, leaving many who knew it there totally distraught. The French were ecstatic about serendipitously unearthing it in Chile in 1994, and found it necessary to splice it into Cab vines there in order for it to thrive in the French terroir. Fantastic wine and food and amazing conversation and story swapping with Mario.
Mario showing off a terrific local Carménère:
After dinner, feeling terrific and renewed, I strolled down to the beach and soon hit the proverbial energy wall after being up for thirty six straight hours. The sensible thing to do was to crash and recharge, and I don’t think I could’ve done anything else, so I hit the hay around 9 pm and slept till 6 am today, after which I headed south, through Algarrobo and then Curico in the wine district, where I’m chilling in front of a huge fire in a great hotel now with a glass of great local Cab. Ahhh – recharged and relaxed.
Earlier in town at the magnificent Plaza de Armas:
Off to dinner – should be another delicious one here in wine country. Heading to Chillán and its volcanoes tomorrow. Looking forward to climbing into the Andes and gaining some el.
I’m stoked that my Spanish is quickly coming back. Feels great, and I’m looking forward to getting into the groove with it, as I’m already skipping the process of thinking first in English and translating words into Spanish in my mind. Caio for now.
Distant places beckon…. Several weeks till lift off and I’m getting pretty excited. I’ve rented a camper van for six weeks (yet again, as I love traveling this way), will buy a bike when I land in Santiago, and will travel through a good chunk of Chile and Argentina, hiking and riding through the Andes and their peaks, valleys, fjords and glaciers, during my journey. (An editorial note – you can click on any photo in this blog to enlarge it. Also, I’ll be using local SIM cards in both countries and won’t therefore receive calls or texts to my US number. I will, of course, receive e-mails. If you’d like to call or text or call me, please do so on WhatsApp).
I’ve calculated my anticipated route and total distance, both of which are pretty large, although of course they’re merely rough estimates right now, as I’ll be meandering the entire trip, poking around everywhere, staying longer where I find cool spots and shoving off where I’m not enchanted and excited to be (not likely to be too many places, from what I know and have read). I have a bunch of places I want to see, but no reservations anywhere. The trip will unfold as it will – in that sense, it will be the usual spirit quest adventure….
I’ve been studying and refreshing my Spanish skills, which have fallen into a rusty state after decades of fluency ( I’ve learned over the years that I need to use it or lose it). I’m finding the online instruction I’ve chosen to be pretty good and I know, from my four month sojourn through Columbia, Equador, Peru and Bolivia back in the Pleistocene, that my proficiency should return pretty quickly once I’m immersed in the language and culture 24/7. Looking forward to dreaming again in Spanish, as that was super cool.
Parque Nacional Torres del Paine bathing in afternoon light:
I’m heading to Poland March 22nd to volunteer as an EMT for Ukranian refugees. I’ll try to update things with photos and narratives as they unfold, to the extent time and circumstances permit.
MARCH 21, 2022
T minus 24 hours and counting. Ready to embark on the journey. Numerous contacts out to international, governmental and NG organizations, most of which appear to be scrambling frantically to put resources on the ground in the frontline border countries of Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, Romania and Moldova. I’ll be traveling to all or some of them, depending on each’s humanitarian needs and refugee flows.
These images (not mine, as I’m not there yet) focus one’s mind on the unbearable tragedy now unfolding across the length and breadth of Ukraine at the hands of a madman. The courage and heroism of the Ukranian people and the generosity of their neighbors is almost impossible to grasp.
More to come when I’m on the ground….
MARCH 25, 2022
The past 36 hours have been a whirlwind. After arriving in Warsaw, picking up a car and checking into my hotel, I reached out once again to the numerous international and Polish contacts on the ground with whom I’ve been corresponding. The impression I’ve gotten during the past three weeks is that careful planning is out the window and showing up where refugee needs are greatest appears to be the way to fly.
I drove to the Ukranian border yesterday, passing through Lublin, Chelm and then Dorohusk, literally across the river from Ukraine. Countless lorries and buses were headed in both directions, the trucks full when headed east and empty on their returns and the buses full when headed west and empty on their returns. I didn’t witness chaos, but instead a somewhat combined orderly and a bit disorganized flow of people and vehicles as the border area came into sharper focus.
I was detained on the border for over two hours in Dorohusk by Polish border and then military police after meandering on a dirt road, looking over a small river at Ukraine in the middle of nowhere. They couldn’t have been nicer and more kind, but were completely befuddled by my appearance seemingly out of the ether. After using the old “I was relying on GPS” to get where I was and where I was stopped – a goat path of a dirt road I’d driven for ten miles, overlooking a railroad bridge into Ukraine – they patiently reviewed – and photographed – all of my documents, made countless phone calls, brought in reinforcements (seriously – an SUV with five additional officers showed up after about an hour and a half), talked to and questioned me about my trip, whether I was CIA (they appeared to be serious) and my Mom’s family hailing from Warsaw – they not only let me go, with big smiles, but escorted me to the highway border crossing after driving another three miles by dirt road, opening five huge sliding border gates with their passes and directing me (with the captain riding shotgun and entertaining me) the wrong way through large trucks streaming eastward to the border post, then waiving me and us through without showing my passport or ID simply because of who they were. Total trip, from start to finish, and their warmth and kindness flowed over me all afternoon.
All in all, a crazy first day where I learned that the refugees are now moving through the border from western Ukraine into Poland almost entirely by train and that approximately one thousand are passing through Dorohusk and Chelm per day versus fifteen thousand each day a week ago.
A lot to process, and I arrived back in Warsaw around 10 pm, grabbed dinner and hit the hay. Today I’m heading to Krakow, where many refugees have taken up temporary residence en route to other and possibly more permanent destinations. After that, I’ll head back to the border regions of Slovakia and Hungary en route to Romania and Moldova.
Some photos of the day:
March 27, 2022
Game on. After screening a number of refugee assistance contacts and organizations since hitting the ground here (the vast majority of which seek only monetary donations), I’ve decided to freelance with a fellow from North Carolina who flew here, rented a house on the Polish border forty miles west of Lviv, the main humanitarian corridor out of Ukraine, and donate my time, medical expertise and vehicle to the ongoing efforts he and others are making to move humanitarian aid in and people who seek to leave Ukraine out of the area and into safe places throughout western Europe.
I’ll arrive there tomorrow. Looking forward with excitement and a bit of concern, as Russian missiles struck Lviv twice yesterday notwithstanding not doing so since the war began. Ian and his fellow volunteers were actually in Lviv Saturday when the missiles struck. Some journalists have posited that it was Putin’s greeting card to President Biden when he was on the Polish border yesterday visiting NATO and US Army troops. Things appeared to be quiet in Lviv today and will hopefully be the same tomorrow and in the coming weeks
I’m keeping deliberately vague about where and with whom I’ll be, as one never knows who’s monitoring communications transmissions close to the border.
For those who’ve asked whether they can send needed supplies and humanitarian assistance, I’ll have a local address to share in the next day or two. Thank you so much in advance – that is such a wonderful way to help, especially knowing that one of your friends will be personally delivering what you send. It will be humbling to transport and deliver what you send directly to Ukranians stuck or staying in their country as well as to refugees in need who will be on the move.
Much to do and many to help. More to come.
MARCH 29, 2022
Today was really intense and eye opening. Seeing over a thousand refuges crossing out of their country and into Poland at the border post we manned was emotionally wrenching. Only women and children arrived, and knowing that they had all bade farewell to their husbands, fathers and brothers with the knowledge that they might never see them again was sobering and a bit overwhelming.
Rather than write a lot about something that to me defied written description, I’ll let some of my photos from today do the talking.
Pretty tired. Looking forward to what tomorrow brings.
MARCH 31, 2022
Another day has dawned on the Polish – Ukranian border, with thousands more refugees having crossed over into safety yet uncertainty yesterday. Looking into the eyes of these individuals reveals relief at their having left war zones and the destruction that they experienced, combined with trepidation at everything they’ve left behind and and what comes next for them and their families on both sides of the border.
The positive news two days ago following peace talks in Istanbul has been dashed by the continued bombing and shelling of Kyiv and Chernihiv. What appeared to be a pause in hostilities now seems to be a duplicitous repositioning and resupply of Russian troops to correct the enormous deficiencies and mistakes of their war effort to date. What has been affirmed once again is that the Russians cannot be trusted. With this in mind, everyone wonders and asks when things will take a turn for the better.
There’s a rare combination of happiness and sadness in helping these people. Positive emotions in making their difficult journeys and days more bearable, combined with sadness in knowing that they’ve been forced to leave their motherland, their homes and those they love behind.
A word about the people with whom I’m working – the group hails from all over Europe and the States. Super friendly, educated and earnest folks, many of whom have done this before. I have so much respect for their selflessness and caring, as they’ve left comfortable lives behind on very short notice without thinking twice to help others in need. There’s a fantastic bond among the group and a feeling that we’re doing something larger than any of us. The common humanity and kinship is really wonderful and feeds the soul of everyone here.
Here are some photos from yesterday:
A mother looking for her Mom and children while listening to a volunteer’s information:
These busses unload continuously at our refugee center, only to turn around and start the process once again.
Taking the last steps to freedom by foot with the escort of Polish police:
This older man had only one leg and was ashamed to have been forced to leave his country rather than fight.
Grim humor survives the difficulties here.
We’ve treated and transported refugees who arrive with medical conditions. Once stabilized, they are moved to local hospitals for more definitive care.
A makeshift border church. Religion provides tremendous solace and a way to deal with everything that these people are experiencing.
It rained all night, and the forecast the next two days is for continued rain, snow and colder temperatures, hovering near freezing. We’ll do all we can to bring comfort and some certainty to everyone we’ll be working with each day. Caio for now.
APRIL 2, 2022
Ten days in and things are looking potentially better for all involved. Despite Russian deception and duplicity, humanitarian corridors appear to be opening from Mariupol and other eastern cities and towns, where hundreds of thousands have been without food, power and water, living underground, for more than five weeks.
Stopping to eat before boarding another bus to safety.
Outdoor warmth. Temperatures have dropped below freezing and rain and snow have accompanied an unseasonal cold front.
Temporary accommodations just inside the border in Lubycza Krolewska. Trying to rest and sleep here is not easy.
Ukrainians and Poles alike light up when I show them this. I’m learning to pronounce it….
Slavi Ukraini:
I drove to Warsaw on Thursday to pick up two Ukranian mothers and their children who needed transportation to Vilnius, Estonia. They asked not to be photographed because of concerns about their families back home, but they were incredibly grateful and composed in light of what they and their families have been going through. It was a long day, made longer by continuing on to Riga and Tallinn to drop others off on their journeys to distant relatives and safety. The people in the Baltic states are doing so much for their brothers and sisters in Ukraine. The sense of fraternity is just amazing.
Downtown Tallinn last night. The feeling of standing in solidarity with all Ukrainians is palpable here.
The Ukranian resistance grows stronger each day. It is an incredibly powerful and unstoppable force of nature (file photo):
Heading back towards Warsaw and the border. If things in fact become safer inside Ukraine, with humanitarian corridors assured, I expect to head over the border to deliver medical and other supplies to Lviv and other towns and bring refugees out. Fingers crossed that things will improve….
APRIL 5, 2022
Whew. The past three days have been a bit of a blur, driving folks up to Vilnius, Lithuania then continuing on to Riga, Latvia and Tallinn, Estonia before turning around and heading back to the Polish / Ukranian border. Lots of miles under my belt, but because I love driving, it was actually pretty cool. Back on the reservation, many people are still coming westward, yet a change has occurred – some Ukrainians, based upon the military victories achieved over Russian forces, are actually returning to their homes. Wow – talk about love of country….
It was very encouraging to find that the Baltic States, all of which are NATO members, and each of which share a border with Russia, are absolutely adamant about stopping Putin in his tracks. They are sending vast quantities of arms and humanitarian assistance to Ukraine and have been at the forefront of global condemnation of and opposition to Russia’s invasion of its slavic brother. Yesterday, the president of Lithuania announced that it would no longer import any Russian coal, oil or gas – none – starting today. Talk about leading – an awesome example of stepping forward and being heard in the international community. A shot heard ’round the world.
The group I’ve been working with in Hrebenne, comprised almost exclusively of freelance volunteers from Europe, the US and other countries around the world, is awesome. We’re using a WhatsApp group chat interface to interact, share ideas, request assistance and generally keep track of each other and others. I liken it to using open source software – everyone is in charge and no one controls things. It’s enormously collaborative, and really powerful for getting things done.
Here are some photos of recent days at our outpost in Hrebenne, literally on the Ukrainian border (the smell of diesel fuel from trucks running arms and supplies eastward and buses bringing refugees westward is a constant reminder…).
Sasha, all of eighteen years old, who came with his Mom from the UK:
Tranquility at day’s end:
Poland’s symbolic embrace of Ukraine:
Moving from a bus to a van:
Generators. Worth their weight in gold….
Before the rains…..
Today marks two weeks since I embarked on this journey. It feels like a lot longer, in light of what I’ve seen and experienced on the ground. I have another week to go before shoving off back to the States. People have rotated in and out, based on their schedules, and the bonds formed, even with the constant changes, have been wonderful.
Today I’m in Michalovce, Slovakia, approximately 125 miles south of Hrebenne very close to the Ukrainian border, because we heard that they’re short on help here relative to where we are and other border crossings. It’ll mean meeting new folks and comparing notes with each other on how things are working and how the people moving through are coping with what is happening back home. Now that Russian troops have withdrawn from much of the areas surrounding Kyiv and to its east, the nightmare of their barbaric acts is emerging. We hear that Bucha is likely to be the tip of the iceberg, which is a horrifying thought.
A word to everyone who has asked how they can help financially with the ongoing relief efforts here – every governmental and NG organization with which I’ve interacted, when asked how one can help, requests cash donations and contributions. The benefit of this approach is that they have done this before and know how to deploy and distribute aid in crises. The issue I have is in vetting how donations will be spent and the percentage of contributions that actually reach the refugees. The solution and recommendation for me is to use Charity Navigator – https://www.charitynavigator.org – to determine an organizations’s efficiency and percentage of funds received that are directly used to help those they serve.
The rain has stopped down here, but more is forecast throughout the week. Hoping that it stays on the dry side for everyone’s benefit.
APRIL 9, 2022
The frontier at Michalovce, Slovakia was full of volunteers and devoid of refugees. It has become apparent the past several days that almost all Ukrainians who have wanted to leave the country and who could since the February 24th invasion began through its borders with Poland, Slovakia, Romania, Hungary and Moldova have done so. The border station in Hrebenne, where I was encamped with many other volunteers, has taken on the appearance of a ghost town and Michalovce was very similar – tons of infrastructure and volunteers in place, but almost no refugees coming through from Ukraine.
What does impress at these frontier crossings is the number of lorries bringing arms and humanitarian supplies into Ukraine from the west. The trucks are loaded with NATO’s contributions to Ukraine’s war effort, which has as a result fought the formerly vaunted Russian Army to a virtual standstill. No one – not even the best military strategists and minds in the world – could have anticipated or predicted this outcome to date.
Putin is said to have made threee colossal strategic blunders in planning and executing his war – (1) he completely overestimated his troops’ strength, abilities and logistics competence; (2) he totally underestimated the international outrage and unity that his savagery would engender; and (3) he utterly failed to understand the strength and determination of the Ukraine resistance and competence in defending their homeland from a brutal dictator who lied to his generals, his troops and the world. Putin is now paying the price for his monstrous deeds, and one can only hope and pray that the forces opposed to him will remain strong and that he, as every other Russian ruler before him who lost a major military campaign outside Russia’s borders, will be ousted and relegated to the dustbin of history and tied together with other depraved and disgraced dictators such as Stalin and Hitler.
Here are some photos the Michalovce border “town,” which may spring back to life if and when Ukrainians who have to date been trapped in Mariupol and other eastern and southern towns and cities are given safe passage to the west. After yesterday’s train station missile strikes on civilians in Kramatorsk, which killed over one hundred women and children and wounded over three times that number. which was immediately condemned as a war crime by the international community, the likelihood of this happening soon is in serious doubt.
Does Jesus really save?
Part of the former Soviet Union’s military arsenal in Slovakia on its way back to fight Putin and his army of terrorists:
Because refugee passage across Ukraine’s western frontiers has almost ground to a halt, I’m heading to Munich and Berlin, where sizable groups of refugees have been transported and are awaiting resettlement, to lend my hands to those in need. Many have elected to return home, despite the inherent dangers, to check on their homes, their loved ones and to avoid being homeless any longer. The love of country and strength of the Ukranian people which is evoked in this incredibly brave act should tell the monster Vladimir Putin everything he needs to know about the folly of his invasion and butchery. That he will be held accountable, by his own people and by the global community, is a foregone conclusion. That such judgment and punishment occurs much sooner, rather than later, is the fervent hope and aspiration of every Ukranian and every civilized individual around the world.
APRIL 12, 2022– Reflections
Arrived in Berlin last night and I’m winding down my trip before returning to Warsaw and heading home Thursday at the crack of dawn. My feelings right now are very mixed – I feel that I could stay here for another six months or longer, because so many require so much assistance. At the same time, I’m super grateful that I’ve been able to be here and provide a little kindness and care to those with whom I’ve interacted.
Berlin has been the recipient and host to tens of thousands of Ukranian refugees who have made their way here after leaving their homeland. Berliners have opened their arms to the refugees, yet many are wondering where and how they will be accommodated if it is necessary to do so in the long(er) term. Only time will tell, but it is interesting, in speaking with locals, that no one knows how long their hospitality may be needed. Almost all Ukrainians yearn to return home, so both guests’ and hosts’ interests are aligned, notwithstanding the practical barriers and uncertainties currently in play.
Here’s a file photo of a local young woman here (not my photo, as I just arrived last night):
Photos I took last night while meandering around town:
Apologies for going off task and reverting to tourist mode here, but it felt really good last night to just stroll around a new place without thinking of anything other than how cool and beautiful it was….
I can say that the architecture here is absolutely stunning. Each street and view offers jaw-dropping scenes of magnificent and historical buildings, old combined with new and each with their own story to tell.
Off to help with feeding those who are here trying to figure out their next moves. I’ll update from Warsaw with a final wrap and reflections.
APRIL 24, 2022
Sitting in Franz Josef Airport in Munich after leaving Warsaw early this morning, heading home after an amazing four week journey.
Berlin was overflowing with volunteer assistance, and after visiting two refugee service centers, I realized that there was nothing I could do that wasn’t being done by scores of other volunteers. Germany has mobilized to meet all of the refugees’ needs and then some. It was very heartening to see, although I was itching to lend a hand.
After biking all around the city, I checked into my hotel and had one of those experiences that define a journey like this. After dropping my bag and returning my rental car, I returned to the hotel and dropped into the bar for a farewell beverage.
I introduced myself to the young ladies behind the bar, and mentioned my Polish heritage. After smiling politely, one of them told me in excellent English that she was Ukrainian and had left her home with her mother days after the war started, when her town, Ivankiv, was bombed, shelled with missiles and invaded by tank and armored personnel carriers.
Her name, Tatiana, is Russian, demonstrating the absolute insanity of Putin’s war. I asked whether her father, brother(s) and boyfriend or husband remained to fight and she told me, with incredible grace and stoicism, that her father had been killed in the first week of the war. Hearing that was a real punch to the gut, bringing the tragedy and loss home in such an intimate way, and I expressed how deeply sorry I was for her loss. I was at a loss for words, but incredibly, she only wanted to thank me for my assistance.
My time in Poland and Slovakia assisting the refugees and meeting innumerable volunteers from the States and around the world has been eye opening and laden with feelings and emotions in so many ways. I’m so glad I came, as staying home while so many innocent people suffered was something I felt that I just couldn’t do.
My hope is that Putin, a monster but not a stupid man, will soon realize that his original goals are unobtainable and that some sort of negotiated settlement will soon be agreed to. I’m not optimistic, however, because of his past ruthlessness in Georgia, Grozny, Chechnia and Syria. Whether the economic sanctions focus his mind like the sight of the noose remains to be seen. I don’t have illusions there, however.
The historic struggle now underway in Ukraine is the most epochal global event of the past eighty years. Virtually no one thought something this horrific and cataclysmic could occur again, yet the global order and post-World War II stability that Europe has enjoyed for so long have both been shattered by a madman. The Ukrainian spirit, moxie and determination has to date far outpaced everything that the Russians have tried, so I am somewhat hopeful that their morale, combined with more cutting edge and conventional weaponry from the West, will bleed the Russians until peace is sued for. In the mean time, an innocent country and its people have been cast into the cauldron of mans’ evil and darkness once again.
Thanks to everyone who has followed my blog. I’m so appreciative of all the love, support and best wishes everyone has showered upon me. Hopefully another trip like this won’t happen for a good long while, but reality often intrudes into the calm sense we have come to expect in our lives, so one never knows….
T minus 24 hours and counting. Ready to head out. Many contacts out to international, governmental and non-governmentyal organizations, most all of which appear to be scrambling frantically to put resources on the ground in Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, Romania and Moldova, Ukraine’s front line neighbors to the west. I’ll be traveling to some or all of these countries, depending on each’s needs and refugee flows. More to come after I’m on the ground…..
I’m absolutely buzzing physically at the moment. Just hopped my last Shinkansen bullet train of the trip, from Okayama to Tokyo for my last night, cold Asahi in hand and John Mayer cranking on the headphones. Yeah; Waaaaaaaaah; Sayonara….
The end of these long trips is always bittersweet. I’ve had my head around the fact that I’d be on the road for two months, so as the clock has been ticking on and on I’ve known that the end was nearing, but invariably I’m never ready to split and go home after the winds of the open road have propelled me for weeks or longer on end. Oh, well, totally psyched to get back to the states to see all my family and friends. There really is no place like home….
I feel so grateful and so blessed for this journey. It has gone so incredibly smoothly that it’s kind of hard to believe. Innumerable flights, car, boat and train rides and drives and no snafus. None, zip. That’s crazy, as Murphy’s Law invariably kicks in, especially the longer you’re truckin’.
Some photos of the past several days:
Kagoshima sunrise at the southern tip of the Japanese archipelago, looking at Mount Sakurajima, a very active volcano.
My fave, the Shinkansen bullet train. I will miss these dudes. They are the bomb.
Not even breaking a sweat….
The island of Naoshima. Wow…..a dream. Beyond cool and different. Super artsy and zen. I came here because Julie said I could not miss it. She visited last summer and was mesmerized. Thank you, Julie. I’d likely never have stumbled upon Naoshima without your urging, and it was one of the highlights of my visit to Japan.
Naoshima is an artists’ colony reachable by ferry from Uno. A number of art galleries have been built in old industrial spaces and they all flow beautifully and organically together, with inside and outside art around every corner.
A brief digression – Japan exudes quality in everything it does and makes. It’s rather ironic, as I’m old enough to remember when the words “Made in Japan” signified that the toy, tool or referenced item was a piece of junk – cheaply and poorly designed and made. My, how things have changed. These guys are world beaters in the quality design and build department today. They’re second to absolutely no one. Everything that you touch or see here is bejeweled and perfectly conceived and built. Yes, everything is quite expensive, but as they say, you get what you pay for in life. I’ll gladly pay the premium for this kind of joy.
The restaurant at my hotel last night. Perfection inside and out.
I biked around the island today. I don’t ride an e-bike, but this was all they had. Beautifully conceived and built. Zoom……..
Cruising around the island. Naoshima reminded me in some ways of Dugi Otok, the Croatian island where my Dad was born. Small fishing outposts everywhere, vistas of deep blue and green water and islands looming everywhere in the distance. The entire island – everywhere – is protected by sea walls (I can’t even imagine the cost), This is Tsunami land, so these can make the difference between getting hammered and shrugging off a big one. Again, fantastic design and execution.
I ordered a sake (there were no size options on the menu) last night and today at the best noodle restaurant I’ve ever visited and they brought me this, warm and delicious. It looked more like a pitcher than a glass, but how could I say no? It was the bomb….
The Naoshima pumpkin, a world famous art icon (not really sure why, but it is….)
Yikes – Don’t touch the art!….
Waiting for the ferry back to Uno. Art everywhere….
Snoddy asked me to include a map of my Japan vapor trails. Here they are – the first a Japan Rail Shinkansen map and the second a Google map that I couldn’t really dial in precisely. Oh, well…. I’ve basically been all over the archipelago the past eight days. I’m kind of nuts that way – I love to move around when I travel – and the combination of that love and the Shinkansen bullet trains was a match made in heaven. 1,900 miles north to south and 50 to 250 miles wide, Japan is big. It’s extremely mountainous too, as it is a volcanic island chain. So, I went from Tokyo to Sapporo to Nagano to the southwest coast, to Kyoto, Hiroshima, Kagoshima, Naoshima and back to Tokyo (I may have left a place or two out). A total blast – I’ve been in low flying planes every day and have totally dug every minute of it.
So that’s it, it’s a wrap. A killer trip, great company with Jes joining for two weeks in Cambodia, Vietnam and Tokyo and too many incredible and memorable experiences, people, landscapes, vistas and meals to count. I’m just soaking it in now, and the vibe is terrific. Gratitude is vibrating powerfully through me and I feel like a tuning fork.
A wonderful journey to a part of the world very different from everywhere else I’ve been and to places I’ve long wanted to see. So glad I came. Time to start planning the next adventure……
Visiting Hiroshima was an incredibly powerful experience. Knowing the tragic history of this city my entire lifetime, and wondering over and over again about how it could possibly have recovered – let alone flourished – literally from the ashes, has haunted me. As my journey brought me to Japan and ever closer to Hiroshima, I’ve read more about it, and my soul began to ache in the knowledge that what happened here, although many historians would argue that it was fully justified under all of the circumstances then present, was the most inhuman and cruel undertaking ever carried out by the hand of man.
If a picture can be worth a thousand words, this one may satisfy the maxim. Below is what the Japanese refer to as the A Bomb Dome. We’ve all seen photos of it, but seeing it in person and drinking it in was one of the most powerful experiences of my life. The Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall was a cultural center and architectural icon in the heart of Hiroshima before the bomb exploded and destroyed the city, killing over 120,000 civilians. Afterwards, it was virtually the only building in the city of one million that remained standing following the thermonuclear blast and firestorms that swept everything else away. As such, it is an incredibly powerful totem to what happened on August 6th, 1945 and a reminder of the unthinkable horrors of nuclear war. Many believe that it survived only because it was located almost exactly beneath where the bomb was detonated – an area known as the hypocenter. Its legacy is indelible, and it is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Imagine if you will, for a moment, the complete annihilation of everything in your life, and your life as you’ve known it, in a split-second, blinding flash. Everything – and virtually everyone who you’ve come to know and love – on fire, burning out of control, screaming, with flames and radioactive ash raining down from the sky. You have no idea what just happened, other than thinking that a bomb had directly struck your home or place of work, yet as you stagger outside and look around to find loved ones and colleagues, many buried and half-dead, you struggle to comprehend that in fact everything within your vision – and your reality – has suffered this fate. Only three colors exist – black, brown and red. It’s as though you’re in a horrible dream, but you can’t wake up….
Listening to the tales of survivors at the Hiroshima Memorial Peace Museum, a haunting yet magnificent place of remembrance, was so chilling and real that I had to remind myself to keep breathing several times. It was that intense. Sitting and staring for a long time earlier in the day and photographing The A Bomb Dome absolutely floored me. It felt like a hard punch to the gut; my wind was knocked out.
Every general and senior military officer around the world should be required to visit Hiroshima. I guarantee that their desire to wage war would thereafter be severely tempered.
OK, fewer words now and more images. That awful day and soon afterwards:This clock stopped forever the instant the first atomic bomb – code named “Little Boy” by the US military – exploded 600 meters above downtown Hiroshima.
A historical digression here – Judge Harry H. Kutner, for whom I clerked after law school, was a B-29 pilot stationed on the Island of Tinian who flew 33 bombing missions to and from the Japanese mainland and other Pacific Japanese targets. He was 23 on August 6th, 1945 and was one of six crews briefed in a hanger on Tinian the night before Little Boy was dropped on Hiroshima. He saw both Little Boy and Fat Man, which was dropped on Nagasaki two days later, on August 7th, resting on wooden pallets in the aircraft hangers there. He and the other crews that were briefed were told simply that the bomb to be delivered the next morning by one of the crews was larger and more powerful than anything that had ever been deployed. Since none of the airmen (and almost certainly their commanding officers) knew anything about the secrets of the Manhattan Project, explaining the dynamics of a thermonuclear warhead to them on the evening of August 5th would have been akin to speaking in Greek. Judge Kutner’s close friend Paul Tibbets and his crew of The Enola Gay were (whose name had been chosen only the night before in honor of his mother) were selected for the Hiroshima bombing run….. They received special protective glasses to shield against the blinding flash that would occur upon detonation and were instructed to look away from the target after the bomb bay doors had unleashed Little Man. How incredible. Judge Kutner was my mentor throughout my career, a very close personal friend and, with my Dad who also fought in the Navy in the Pacific Theater, a shining exemplar of the Greatest Generation. Judge Kutner died two years ago at 94. RIP and Merry Christmas, Judge. I know you’re looking down now from that very special place.
A small child’s bike. The seat and tires were melted off and the frame scorched almost beyond recognition.
Clothing stuck to a victim. A woman I listened to said that her son had the buttons of his pajamas melted onto his body when she found him.
Many months and surgeries later.
A Buddha, melted from the blast’s heat:
Site of the Hiroshima Castle, which stood unscathed since 1590 and was completely obliterated.
He had no chance.
OK – enough horror….. This is terribly grim to contemplate, but contemplate we must. Hiroshima today is spectacular – set among numerous beautiful rivers, encircled by gentle mountains and open and inviting throughout. You would never, ever know what terrible fate had befallen it if you simply arrived here without being told where you were. In addition, the people are very friendly, chill and happy; perhaps the happiest of any place I’ve visited yet in Japan. I think it’s my favorite place here that I’ve seen so far.
Hiroshima and its people chose life and rebirth after the horrors they experienced. It need not have been so, and it is profound testament to their individual and collective strength and resilience after living through the unimaginable destruction and pain which they suffered.
Look carefully:
The duality of Hiroshima- its tragic history, amazing recovery and glorious present – is mind-blowing to me. It is testament to mankind’s resilience and ability to recover from seemingly impossible setbacks and misfortune, and offers a powerful lesson for us today, staring down the gun barrel of ruinous climate change and habitat destruction occurring around the world as you read this.
Off to Kagoshima to check out the southern tip of Japan and Mount Sakurijima, a very big and very active volcano right next door…. Should be fun.
[Yikes – the formatting just went crazy. Haven’t been able to fix it, so this looks pretty darned weird. Humble apologies in advance….]
I’ve been in Japan for five days now, with three more to come, and it is unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been. So calm, so quiet, so efficient, so sleek, so serene, so sophisticated, so smooth, so expensive, so – Japanese….. It’s really quite an amazing place and culture in a myriad of ways.
A word about the Japanese people. Being everywhere I’ve been has been like being in a library. Everything and everyone is super quiet and silent. I haven’t heard a horn honked anywhere. No one makes a peep on the trains (you’re asked to go between cars and talk in small compartments purposely built if you need to use your mobile). The only time I’ve seen people laughing and talking out loud was in the Nagano train station well after 10 pm, clearly following a night of imbibing and carousing with work colleagues. Watching those folks hug each other and laugh while saying goodnight seemed surreal, as though their strict cultural inhibitions, loosened with alcohol (where haven’t we seen that?), temporarily fled everyone. Onlookers seemed completely aware and bemused, perhaps even a little envious that fun was being had.
Timid is likely too strong a word to describe the zeitgeist here, but it feels as though people remember (or have been taught to understand) the horrors their ancestors brought on the country in two World Wars, and the idea of acting aggro again just never crosses their minds. Japan has serious demographic and economic problems, and it seems that folk here are cognizant of them. Their historic xenophobia has meant that others havenever been welcomed, even to do the menial tasks performed by refugees and those from poor countries elsewhere in the world. While arguably good for the purity of Japan’s gene pool, the total absence of diversity is a bit shocking. In addition, the extremely low birth rate here means that the population is not reproducing itself. As a result, the population skews quite old, and their social security system is very much out of balance between those drawing out and those paying in. The economic lines have already started to cross between revenue and expenditures, and no one has yet come up with a solution to keep the country’s retirement system solvent, likely because a tenable one doesn’t really exist.
Loneliness is also a problem here. I’ve heard heart-breaking stories of elderly
Japanese citizens committing petty crimes despite the catastrophic loss of face
and social humiliation involved, solely to be with others and to have meals and a
roof over their heads provided for them. Imagine that for a moment….. how
terribly sad.
Riding the trains here, especially the Shinkansen bullet trains, is like being in a
dream. The system is so flawless in its design and execution that I keep pinching
myself. Things are so dialed in that if you’re five seconds late for your departure,
you’re completely out of luck. My guess is that the Swiss are a little envious….
This could be my favorite Shinkansen design, among the seven or eight I’ve seen so far:
How about a little power to go with your bullet train? Whoa….
I love riding the rails as my method of travel in places where it’s highly valued
and subsidized for the greater good. Money very well spent to me. Hello
Washington…..
I bought a Japan Rail Pass for this trip, which allows unlimited travel throughout the
country, including on the Shinkansen speed demons. A total rush. The Shinkansen trains
have their own ticket office in each station and, of course, their own tracks, and after
showing your pass at the ticket window, you’re told by an incredibly polite Japan Rail
representative of all trains heading to your destination. A ticket is issued with reserved
seating, and you slide it into a turnstile, which scans and returns it to you, then you walk
to your departure track, with all car numbers marked on the ground for ease of entry.
Once on board, you’re not asked for your ticket by the conductors, who simply
smile warmly and greet you as they pass by. Every station and other
announcement is followed in Japanese by English, which is great. When your
journey’s over and you disembark, you just slide your ticket (and show your JR Pass)
through the turnstile on the way out, and you’re on your way. Simple, quick and elegant
in every way. The best things invariably are….
The train cars are completely silent – no one makes a peep. If you need to use
your mobile, there are small compartments adjacent to the restrooms ate the end of the
cars. All doors whisk open and closed automatically as you approach them with nary a
sound.
I’ve never seen cleaner restrooms anywhere, and I’m including German and Swiss
trains. Well done, guys. You rock it.
Three brief observations on Japanese bathrooms everywhere – they are the cleanest I’ve
ever seen anywhere, all of the toilet seats are heated, complete with bidets, and the trash
containers are absolutely the smallest on the planet. This one is considerably
smaller than the TP roll above it. What are you supposed to put in there – a grain
of rice? It’s ironic, because it’s so spotlessly clean everywhere here that you’d think
everyone is constantly throwing out trash. Where do they put it? I’m completely
baffled.
Aha – I finally found trash somewhere:
I laughed for five minutes at the utter precision and placement of the bags, each with a
perfect square knot keeping its contents secured. Wow….
OK, I’m gonna simply show some photos of today in Kyoto now without blabbing too
much about where and when.
Street scene – lunch on the go:
Fushiminan Taisha Shrine. Magical.
Imperial Palace:
Yes – they very much like gates and doors here…..
I left Kyoto late afternoon for Hiroshima, a place and name so laden with unimaginable
power, awe and horror that I couldn’t possibly visit Japan without coming here. On my
arrival, this scene greeted me:
It took me aback.
Walking from the station underground, where I heard and saw young musicians singing
and playing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer…..
The Welcome sign rocked me, especially as an American. Like being in Vietnam and
contemplating the War there and what our country did to so many innocent civilians, I
kept thinking that America committed the most horrible act in human history, although
arguably fully justified because of Japan’s horrific conduct everywhere it fought and its
attack on America at Pearl Harbor. Justified or not, the result was unspeakable, as we all
know. I’ve read that today, Hiroshima is a vibrant, beautiful, culturally rich and
magnificent place. I hope to confirm that tomorrow..
Just hopped a Shinkansen bullet train in Nagano, site of the 1998 Winter Olympics. Heading to Kanazawa on the west coast. I’m feeling the incredible lightness of being right now (and the speed of this beast, now approaching 196 mph in a tunnel; oh, boy…..).
Time to sit back and reflect a bit. I’ve been on the road for seven weeks now, with six days left in the Land of the Rising Sun. Very cool to be wrapping up here. Japan is super calm and chill; beyond serene in so many ways.
The trip is coming full circle for me now. Looking back, it seems that I boarded my flight to Hong Kong and Perth years ago. I’ve found that time becomes elastic on long journeys. At times, it appears short and at others, incredibly long and slow in passing. Things typically start to speed up in terms of time sense after the halfway point, but they haven’t on this trip. It has been an amazingly fluid cruise through many places, meeting many people and eating some of the best food of my life.
Great scenery is always awesome for me, but what stays with me and lingers when finding new places is the people. The people of southeast Asia are, I would say, extremely calm, reserved and polite. Many of them are also extremely happy, smiling in an instant regardless of the circumstance. That is wonderful, and it leaves the heart wide open.
The only problem with these trains is that they’re so fast it’s hard to get anything done on them. This trip is around 200 miles and it’ll take less than 90 minutes. Anyway, I’m kind of obsessed with them, because I love speed, high quality machines and, well, because I’m a guy. So, here are some photos of the beasts. It’s really hard to catch them at a stop – even while pulling into the stations, as they’re wicked fast and sleek. They have the incredible attribute of looking very fast while at a standstill….
Niseko Ski Area on the Island of Hokkaido. Some Aussie ski instructors I chatted with said the season has been a bummer so far – very warm with pretty much all precipitation falling as rain. Hope springs eternal, however, as Niseko is alleged to smoke Utah for quantity and quality of pow. Hard to comprehend that…..
I bought a Japan Rail Pass, and can travel anywhere in the country on any train. In addition to the pass, they give you individual tickets for each journey. I’ve been taking the Shinkansen – bullet trains where possible because they’re so darned cool.
I’m writing this while hurtling silently through the Japanese countryside from Tokyo to Sapporo on a Shinkansen bullet train. We’re doing 197 miles per hour without breaking a sweat. Very cool. Like the TGV in France and the Frecciarossa in Italy, the feeling is of being in an office building while the scenery screams by. We’ve gone 214 miles in a little over an hour. Wow….
Japan – land of the Rising Sun…. I’ve wanted to come here forever, and it’s great to finally make the trip. Landed in Tokyo yesterday and roamed around through the Imperial Palace grounds, then partook in great sushi and sake…..
Before leaving Vietnam and arriving in Tokyo, we visited Hue, Hanoi (third time for me on this trip) and Ha Long Bay, a marvel of nature and another United Nations World Heritage site.
Hue is an ancient imperial city and a United Nations World Heritage site. Beautiful palaces, temples and pagodas abound. Here are some:
En route to the goods
The Imperial City
Peace, love and happiness….
The Royal Music Hall
King Khai Djnh’s tomb. Six hundred soldiers who ferried him ten miles from the palace in Hue to his final resting place were entombed in the underground tunnel leading to his tomb when explosives were detonated in both ends after their journey so that they could never grave rob or inform others of the riches that lay with their king. Thanks, boss…..
Outside the Palace walls, a local market sold everything imaginable. Everyone is so happy and chill here.
Overall, Hue was a great place to stop in and poke around, with out of this world food.
We then returned to Hanoi, and I must say that I’ve grown to love this chaotic, manic city. The Old Quarter, where we kicked around, is magical. With an endless stream and merging of humanity on every form of transportation imaginable, filling every available square inch of space, it’s warm, inviting and really interesting to be a part of. It was Sunday, and the entirety of the Hoan Siem Lake area in the Old Quarter was closed to cars and traffic, with music, art and food stalls everywhere and families out for the day. Just perfect.
Haircut and shave on the go….
From Hanoi, we departed for Ha Long Bay. It’s hard to describe how beautiful this place is, so I’ll just let the photos do the talking here.
Jes chillin’
Tokyo was really nice. Perfect weather for December – 50 degrees F and bone dry. Just great for cruising around.
Imperial Palace grounds
Imperial Palace doors
Amazing stonework. Reminded me of the Incas.
Old and new
Bling
Well, I’m off to Sapporo on the island of Hokkaido, in the far northern wilderness of Japan. It’s said that Hokkaido has the best sushi in Japan. Should be great…. I hope to see Sakhalin Island from its northern tip. I’ll let Sarah Palin know….
Yikes – Don’t touch the art!….
This clock stopped forever the instant the first atomic bomb – code named “Little Boy” by the US military – exploded 600 meters above downtown Hiroshima.
Adventures Here......and There 