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.

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.

Countryside of Hokkaido

Whoosh….

Oh, yeah. Speed is a drug…..

Walking to the train this morning in Nagano

Scenery en route to Kanazawa

Gotta run – pulling into Kanazawa soon. Ciao….

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….

Sihanoukville, Cambodia, named after Prince Norodom Sihanouk, who ruled Cambodia numerous times between his coronation in 1941 and resignation in 1976 after the Khmer Rouge seized power, is an utterly dystopian place. An overwhelming and endless construction site, incredibly filthy and in complete disarray, it felt as though we had entered a post apocalyptic world where order, cleanliness and normalcy ceased to exist. Breathing its air was almost unbearable. We flew there in order to access the island of Koh Rhong Samloem, ten miles or so off its coast, supposedly a jewel of the Gulf of Thailand. If there is one place I could not be paid any sum to revisit, it would be Sihanoukville. Because of this, I took no photos. Trust me when I say that you wouldn’t want to see any. It is that grim.

China has invaded and enveloped Sihanoukville financially under its 2013 belt and road initiative to bring 152 countries deeply into its political and financial orbit. It has literally torn the city and its infrastructure asunder in order to build countless completely tacky and tasteless gambling hotels and casinos to cater to its own wealthy tycoons and travelers. Meanwhile, Sihanoukville groans and suffers under its weight. Literally every road in the city has been torn up, and enormous potholes stop traffic everywhere. It took over an hour to drive seven miles, from the airport to our hotel, after we arrived. Trash and enormous debris and litter piles are literally everywhere, and the locals live among it and in it. They are being driven out of affordable housing, akin to residents in the intermountain states when fracking and petroleum extraction crews arrive and bid up rents astronomically for available local housing, and the Chinese construction companies who work there import their own laborers, so the locals benefit not a whit.

Part of the reason that Cambodia has entered into this Faustian pact with China is that western investment has dried up of late and it has become desperate in seeking development aid. It will be interesting to see what becomes of Sihanoukville in three to five years. My guess is that it will not turn out well for Cambodia or the locals. In the meantime, if you find yourself in Cambodia, do yourself a big favor and steer as far from Sihanoukville as you possibly can.

Koh Rong Samloem was a delightful island reachable by a forty minute ferry ride. No roads, no cars and even no scooters. We walked three quarters of a mile to our hotel, a beachfront shack where the primary pastime was relaxing and watching the surf.

Pulling into the harbor

The weirdest Buddha I’ve spotted on the trip so far. If this isn’t the spitting image of Aunt Jemima, I don’t know what is. I assume it’s a guy, but it sure ain’t the Man.

A path across the island, complete with monkeys and snakes, led to Lazy Beach, a magnificent mile long stretch of golden sand with turquoise calm waters. To our great surprise, a really nice restaurant with bungalows greeted us, so after swimming for a while and lounging about, we had an excellent lunch and bevies.

After two days on Koh Rhom Samloem, it was time to flee Cambodia and return to Vietnam. We traveled to Nha Trang, often called the beach capital of the country, on its southeastern coast. When you fly into Nha Trang, you land in Camh Ranh Bay International Airport, fifteen miles south of Nha Trang. Cam Ranh Bay is a spectacularly beautiful deep water harbor which the US Pentagon selected as its main naval base during the War. Echoes of the Vietnam War have haunted me throughout the trip as names of places bring back memories of Walter Cronkite and Chet Huntley announcing the day’s news – and casualties – throughout the seventies.

Nha Trang rocks. It’s like Miami Beach and other elegant seaside resorts, with the added bonus of wonderful ancient Vietnamese neighborhoods with incredibly friendly natives and fabulous food. Vietnam’s population is amazingly young – 80% were not even born when the War ended, and I have felt absolutely no animosity towards me as an American from anyone, old or young here. They’re just really kind and friendly folks. How nice.

Breakfast view from our rooftop:

The beach and its promenade flow for miles, ringed by verdant green mountains on three sides and islands offshore that dazzle the eye.

Nha Trang Sailing Club, where we planted ourselves

We hung on the beach and chilled all day. Very relaxing and fun.

Lunch – Vietnamese crepes on the fly

One of the best meals of the trip at a tiny outdoor grill around the corner from our hotel. These three were so sweet and happy. We just kept ordering till we couldn’t stand up…

Walking back to the hotel, I spied these two angels through their open doorway.

I loved Nha Trang – it is stunningly beautiful and totally sophisticated, yet full of great local neighborhoods with unbelievable street food and smiles everywhere.

Off next to the imperial city of Hue, a Unesco World heritage site, then Hanoi again and Ha Long Bay. After That, Japan will wrap the trip before returning to the States. Hard to believe I’ve been on the road for six weeks already. It has zipped by looking back, but every day has been a joy of discovery and wonder.

I left Hoi An for Phnom Penh and the dream of Angkor Wat and countless other temples far inland. Phnom Penh really surprised me – a very interesting combination of chic and shabby. Driving from the airport to my hotel,  I spotted BMW, Mercedes and Audi dealerships completely ablaze in Christmas lights. I hadn’t seen any of these in the cities I’ve visited so far. No doubt they’re around, but they were absolutely enormous and very prominently placed in Phnom Penh. I’d assumed that Phnom Penh would be closer to Mandalay than Bangkok, but I was wrong,

Another surprise is that the Cambodian economy is completely dollarized, and cash is king. I hadn’t read that anywhere, and I’ve read plenty about Cambodia. It apparently occurred when the United Nations came into the country after the Cambodian Genocide ended. People became used to using U.S. dollars, and all banks now have USD accounts and wages are paid in our currency. The Cambodian Riel is accepted, but only as an alternative to U.S. dollars. With 4,500 Real to the dollar, a fistful of banknotes might buy a candy bar here.

Roof top dining and cocktails, peering out over skyscrapers wrapped in changing LED light designs, ensued. My friend Jes arrived in Phnom Penh today to join the traveling circus for ten days, and it was really nice to connect with someone I know very well after moving about solo for the past five weeks.

The next morning we visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, which chronicled the madness perpetrated upon innocent Cambodian civilians between 1975 and 1979 by Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge henchmen. We’ve all read about the Cambodian genocide and likely seen the movie The Killing Fields. The tale of what Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge visited upon gentle Cambodian men, women and children who did absolutely nothing wrong is of unspeakable evil akin to that of Stalin and Hitler. Of a population of approximately six million at that time, Pol Pot tortured and murdered almost half. Almost three million individuals who were dragged from their homes, tortured and made to confess to crimes they never committed and then brutally murdered for no reason other than blood thirstiness.

Oh my God – how could anyone commit such heinous acts? By what measure and for what reason could man stoop to this level of inhumanity? I will never understand it, but bearing witness in person to one of Pol Pot’s interrogation and torture chambers, a former high school in downtown Phnom Penh, where it is believed that more Cambodian civilians died at his hands than at any other place, was soul searing and incredibly disturbing. Below, photos reflect the darkness that reigned there. I apologize in advance for the graphic nature of these photos, but evil like this must see the light of day so that it does not and cannot ever happen again.

After trying to recover from the chilling experience of the Museum, we took a mellow seven hour bus ride from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, the jumping off point for Angkor Wat and the other astonishing Hindu temples built in the 10th and 11th centuries to honor Gods, gurus, parents, children and others very close to the crown.  That these were conceived and built a thousand or so years ago and are not only still standing, but in many cases in quite good shape, is incredible.

These temples overwhelm the senses. They are magnificent visually, yet they are much more than that. Alone in the jungle, they stand proudly and resolutely, announcing their triumph over time and history. Learning their tales from our guide brought them to life in a way that completely bridged the millennia since since their conception and construction.

Rather than blab more without doing them justice, here’s a look at what we saw and fairly gaped at all day.

Banteay Srai, 15 km north of Angkor Wat and its neighboring temples

Angkor Thum

Preah Khan

West Mebon (Baray)

Prasat Bat Chum

Ta Promh

Angkor Wat

Crazy, really that these were built, and not by slaves but by volunteers, demonstrating their unwavering alliance to and love for their kings. Crazier still that they’re here now. Just really cool.

Off to Sihanoukville tonight and then on to Koh Rhom Sanloem, an island off the Cambodian coast that is said to be as pretty as those off the Thai coast and almost completely undeveloped. No cars, phone service or connectivity, I’m told, and power having arrived in the near past should make it a great stop.

I’ve been fascinated by, and drawn to Vietnam virtually my entire life. The Vietnam War occupied my childhood, and when I turned 18 in 1973, I had to register with Selective Service (what an Orwellian name – they were anything but selective in choosing cannon fodder for McNamara and the psychos running the War) and got a draft number for that insane undertaking. That the country had lost its appetite for War and its almost unbearable cost in young lives and treasure meant that the draft had pretty much wound down by then, as luck would have it, but some of my brother Mike’s friends and older guys in Manhasset who we all knew went off to fight in Vietnam and never came home. Those who did were never the same, coming back to a country that viewed them as losers and killers in a hugely unpopular war that they had no say in waging. They were blamed for the strategic and unspeakable blunders of our political leaders, and no one held parades to honor them on their return. It was tragedy writ large, from beginning to end, with countless numbers of victims in our country and countless more throughout Vietnam, a country as peaceful as any before the war and as devastated as some in Europe after World War II.

I’ve felt real guilt here because of what my country did to Vietnam and its people, and visiting for the first time has been both amazing and sobering. The debt owed to this country by ours is incalculable and can almost certainly never be repaid.

I’ve followed Vietnam’s history closely since the Paris Peace Accords were signed and the last US troops flew home. The country struggled mightily to rebuild and find its way for decades after the war, and although it is still a communist country, capitalism has exploded here, and the Vietnamese people were ready to run with everything it offers and then some. The country is booming now as a low cost goods supplier, tourism destination and in a number of service industries in which it excels.

The legacy of French colonialism weighs heavily on the country. Much of its architecture, language and traditions were artificially grafted into the country by force by the French. Having said that, the architectural legacy of the French in Hanoi is quite stunning. A vast swath of the city appears as though it was lifted from a European capital, with classical buildings, wide boulevards and magnificent structures all around. Some of that glory is captured below.

The Presidential Palace (formerly the French Colonial Administrator’s pied a terre):

Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum – visiting here completely floored me. The space upon which it sits, in Ba Dinh Square,  is absolutely enormous, occupying approximately a square mile of ground in the middle of Hanoi. This was the location chosen for the construction of Ho Chi Minh’s tomb because it was from this exact spot that he declared independence from France on September 2nd, 1945.

It took passing numerous security gates, metal detectors, surrendering my photographic equipment, being stared down by countless armed soldiers and a wait that spanned a half mile, which fortunately moved apace, to see Ho Chi Minh’s body lying in state. Once inside the tomb, a hushed silence and sense of awe overcame everyone. We walked slowly up a long shallow flight of stairs, turned right, right and then right again and into the room in which he lay, walking around his body in a large U, able to see him from both sides and his feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off him – it was completely riveting for me – and I immediately wanted to go back again because it was such a powerful experience.

Ho Chi Minh is God to the Vietnamese people, and his mausoleum and everything surrounding it demonstrates the reverence and esteem with and by which he is held by all in his country.  September 2nd is, by divine coincidence, both Vietnam’s Independence Day and the day that Ho Chi Minh died, and the Vietnamese say that in the morning of every September 2nd the sun shines, and in the afternoon it rains. How profound.

Pagoda on Hanoi’s West Lake

I didn’t take this shot (wish I had), but it cracked me up. She was no doubt a knock out…

I departed Hanoi for Da Nang on the central coast, where the first US combat troops landed in the Vietnam War. What a claim to fame….  Da Nang is serene and calm where Hanoi is chaotic and frantic. It exuded chill in its traffic, wide streets and innumerable restaurants and shops. It is said that in nowhere else in Vietnam is the pace of change as rapid as in Da Nang, and its modernity and ocean front towers speak to how it is reinventing itself and moving into the next century. Let’s hope it’s for the best.

Morning coffee view

Looking north

From Da Nang I moved south about fifteen miles to Hoi An. Hoi An, a Unesco World Heritage site, is impossibly beautiful. The town is bisected by the Bon River, and both sides’ architecture and buildings are incredibly well-preserved French colonial. To say that Hoi An is charming would be the understatement of the decade. It IS charm. Its people are really friendly and really interested in selling you stuff. They’re cool once they realize you’re not buying, but they are somewhat relentless while always polite.

Long wooden boats ply the river, gliding slowly past as you take in the sites.

A mother-daughter team in their shop

Cat napping is really big here and everywhere else I’ve been. People grab shuteye wherever they are, whenever they can. It makes for fun shots.

Chickens and eggs for sale

Totally gay, I know (I don’t mean that in a sexual way, of course), but let’s just say I was bamboozled into this one. Long story….

Well, I guess it had to happen eventually. First rain of the trip today. Ridiculously great weather so far. Just on and off drizzle in Hoi An, but the streak has officially been broken at 33 days. C’est la vie….

More in Hoi An tomorrow. Excited to bike around town and to the beach.

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.