Hanoi

We spent our last two days in Vietnam wandering around Hanoi, the capital city. Our hotel was located about a mile from the Old Quarter, which, as the name suggests, is where the original city was located. We spent most of Saturday on a tour with Dang around the city. In contrast to the south, Hanoi was cold. It was rainy all day on Saturday, but we spent some time walking around the city anyway.

First, we went to the statue of Lý Thái Tổ, the king who moved the capital of Vietnam to Hanoi.

Bikers ride by the statue of Lý Thái Tổ (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Next, we walked around Hoàn Kiếm Lake, which is in the heart of the old quarter. Giant turtles live in the lake, and according to lore, it was where the emperor Lê Lợi restored a precious sword to the Golden Turtle God in the 15th century and erected the Tháp Rùa temple in the middle of the lake. We visited the Temple of the Jade Mountain, which is on a small island on one end of the lake accessible by a bright red bridge. The temple, like the other temples we visited in Vietnam, had food offerings for the gods. We noticed that there were a lot of crackers and asked Dang if that was normal. He said that people usually put fruit and non-perishables, and that sometimes the quality of the food is questionable (he made a joke about giving the gods diabetes with all the cookies and cola, which was pretty great). The temple also has a giant turtle, about 250 kg in weight and 2.10 meters long, that the citizens of Hanoi found in the lake and mummified.

Offerings in the Temple of the Jade Mountain (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Us in front of the Temple of the Jade Mountain (Photo/Dang Vu)

After walking around the lake, we visited the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology. There are 54 ethnic minorities in Vietnam—the Viet, who make up 86% of the population, and the 53 minorities that mostly live in the mountainous areas along the borders of Laos and Cambodia. Across all of these ethnic groups, there are 8,000 festivals celebrated in Vietnam each year. The museum is very nice. It uses a combination of artifacts with descriptions, videos, dioramas, and an outside part of the museum that has sample housing and ceremonial structures from some of the ethnic groups.

Nicole climbs down the stairs leading up to a house in the outdoor portion of the Museum of Ethnology (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Next, we walked around the French Quarter and visited the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. The French Quarter is full of beautiful buildings with architecture that is either French or a combination of French and Vietnamese style. French officials lived there originally, but now the buildings are occupied by members of the Vietnamese government.

A house in the French Quarter combines French and Vietnamese influence (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum is a large, impressive structure that was not endorsed at all by the man for which it was built. It’s only open for a couple of hours each morning, so we just visited the outside.

The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We were on our own for lunch, and we went and found a French fusion restaurant that was recommended by our hotel. They had an amazing soup—it was two soups, pumpkin and coriander, poured into a yin yang shape. Absolutely delicious.

Two happy diners have their picture taken in front of Green Tangerine (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Delicious yin yang soup (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After lunch, we did some wandering.

Dominos delivery, Vietnam style (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole meets a tiny puppy (Photo/Jason Rafal)

In the afternoon, we went to a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show in the Old Quarter. Water puppet shows happen on a special stage that has a pool of water, in this case about two and a half feet deep, in the center. Instead of having strings, the puppets are controlled with bamboo sticks along the bottom that are hidden under the surface of the water. The music at our show was provided by six people who played instruments and sang during each act. The performance was really interesting, and I wish I had been able to understand the dialogue and songs. It’s a really great form of puppetry.

The dance of the unicorns (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Farmers chase a fox away from the flock of ducks (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The puppeteers come out after the show (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Sunday, we wandered the city by ourselves. We went to the Chợ Đồng Xuân, which is the big central market in Hanoi. It’s really huge—three levels of shopping. Unlike the market in Ho Chi Minh City, no one was actively trying to sell us stuff. We even found something that we wanted to buy and couldn’t find anyone to take our money, so we bought from another stall.

A man carries a giant sack of something through the market (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The three floors of Chợ Đồng Xuân (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We also visited the Temple of Literature, which is a temple of Confucius that was Vietnam’s first national university, was originally built in 1070 and reconstructed in the 13th and14th centuries. The temple is now more of a museum, but apparently graduations still take place there, as was happening on this Sunday.

Graduates throw their caps at the Temple of Literature (Photo/Jason Rafal)

That evening, we had our farewell dinner with our tour group. We had several courses and drank shots of Vietnamese whiskey, which tasted more like strong rice wine. Early on Monday morning, we said goodbye to Dang and started our very long journey back to the United States.

I hope it’s clear how amazing this trip was. We learned a ton about the politics and culture of Vietnam, which was very interesting, but we were completely drawn in by the beautiful landscape and incredibly kind people. It’s really a remarkable place, and we would highly recommend a visit.

Delicious Vietnamese food (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Engagement pictures on Hoàn Kiếm Lake (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A tangle of communication and/or power lines (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A man takes a break on his bike (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Hạ Long Bay

On Thursday, we flew to Hanoi and drove to Hạ Long. While we were on the bus (it was almost a 4-hour drive from Hanoi to Hạ Long), Dang started telling us about the attitude toward Americans in the north. He told us a story about a tour group he had last year that included two Americans who were Vietnam War veterans. He said that while they were going through one of the villages, an old lady invited the group in for tea. While they had tea, she explained that she had five sons; all of them went to the front and none of them came back. Her tiny house was built by the government, and she received a government pension every month. Someone in the group asked what she thought about Americans, and she said that her sons were killed by the American military, not the American people. When Dang told her that two of the men in his group had fought in the war, she hugged them and said that she was so thankful that they were able to return home to their families when he sons were not. Dang said this is characteristic of the Vietnamese people. They see the American military and the American people as two different things, and they like the American people. It’s not even forgiveness; there was never anything to forgive. It’s an astonishing and humbling outlook.

Rice fields (currently being used for rotational crops) (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The highways continue to be madness. Tour buses passing semi trucks. Tour buses passing other tour buses. It’s also very slow to drive long distances if you don’t have a road with a large shoulder and do have a vehicle too large to carhop in. There are lots of large trucks that clog up the roadways. In my experience, honking can mean an assortment of things in Vietnam, depending on the context. These include:

• Go faster

• Get out of my way

• I’m crossing the street even though my light is red because I feel like it, get out of my way

• The light is about to turn green and you’re still sitting here, what is your problem

• I’m merging, make room

• I’m turning, make room

• I’m about to pass you

• I’m passing you

• Oncoming traffic, I am in your lane because I’m passing this slowpoke

• Oncoming traffic, move to the outside edge of your lane so I can make a new lane in the middle to pass this slowpoke

• Bus who is passing a semi, you are in my lane instead of yours, please stop

• White person on a bicycle who I am passing, you look ridiculous.

Hạ Long Bay out of our hotel room window (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Friday morning, we took a boat ride out onto Hạ Long Bay in a traditional wooden junk. There are no words for Hạ Long Bay. There are almost 2000 naturally occurring islands jutting out of the water, and each one has caves inside. Sometimes there are villages of a couple hundred people, who often live completely on boats and floating structures without ever touching the shore. I’ll let Jason’s photos speak for themselves.

Boats cruising Hạ Long Bay (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Dang shows us where the picture on the 200,000 VND note came from (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Us in Hạ Long Bay (Photo/Jason Rafal)

One of the almost 2,000 islands (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A floating village in Hạ Long Bay (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A floating village in Hạ Long Bay (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Part way through the boat ride, we joined the cluster of boats trying to get close to the Trong Mai Islet, or fighting cock rocks, which Dang says is the only definite distinguishing characteristic between Hạ Long Bay and similar bays in China and Thailand. Apparently it’s a huge deal for Asian tourists. There were about 15 boats trying to get close at the same time, and one of them kept hitting the other boats. It was a total mess.

Boats jostling for space at the Fighting Cock Rocks (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We visited one cave, Động Thiên Cung, which was massive and had lights highlighting the various caverns.

Động Thiên Cung (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Động Thiên Cung (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On the boat ride back to the shore, we were served a seafood lunch. Most things were very tasty, including a really good pumpkin soup.

Delicious pumpkin soup during lunch on the boat (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After our boat ride, we drove back to Hanoi and Dang told us more about life in Vietnam. Dang’s wife’s family is Buddhist, and she had to convert to Catholicism to marry him. His father was also Buddhist, and converted for his mother. This is a requirement of the Catholic Church. When Dang was getting married, he went with his wife to the fortune teller to get a date picked, as is custom. The fortune teller picked December 25th, but the priest said this would not work because it is Jesus’s birthday. They went back to the fortune teller and got a new date in February, and Dang booked a restaurant for the wedding, since this needs to be done six months in advance of the date. Then, the bride’s mother got upset because if they got married on that date, they wouldn’t have children, and demanded that they change it. Dang was upset because he had already paid the $100 USD deposit on the restaurant and would lose it if they changed the date. The mother-in-law insisted, so they went and got a new date. Then, Dang’s grandmother died, and no one can get married the same year a relative dies. So they got a fourth date, and finally got married two years after they had initially started trying. Dang says that 90-95% of marriages in Vietnam are love marriages, and this helps the couple stay together “like sticky rice.” He said Americans have love marriages as well, but they get divorced because they don’t go to a fortune teller and pay attention to compatibility.

The average person in Vietnam earns a little over $2000 USD per year. They only have to pay taxes if they earn over $450 USD per month, which is a small amount of the population. Dang says a lot of these people don’t pay, though; they just take $400 a month and then get the rest as a lump sum bonus at the end of the year, which is untaxed. Farmers are 70% of the population and earn a very small amount of money, so many of them want their kids to be educated to get out of farming. Secondary school costs money, but the rural farmers only have to pay 20% of tuition.

Public kindergarten is government subsidized and costs about $40/month. There isn’t room for everyone, so once a year, parents have to get up at 1 a.m. and wait in line to get their kid enrolled. There is a lot of under the table money involved. Private kindergarten costs about $90/month. International kindergarten is the top tier and costs about $1000/month. It offers kids more opportunities and has more activities, like field trips.

When someone needs to see the doctor, they go to the nearest hospital, sign in, and wait. There are three levels of patient. The first knows the doctor, and these people get seen first. The second level gives the doctor money under the table in order to get seen next. Everyone else gets seen afterward.

On Friday evening we arrived in Hanoi and finally had the amazing pho we had been waiting for. It was at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that only served one thing—beef phở—for a set price. There were no white people there, and the food was absolutely amazing.

Phở Thìn (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Putting together the phở (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Our Bicycling Adventure

As I sat on a bicycle and was towed up a hill in the Hué countryside by a Vietnamese woman on a moped, it occurred to me that even if we had just been scammed out of $12, this experience was probably worth it.

We started the morning with a quiet walk to the Citadel. We really didn’t have plans for the morning at all, except to try to find pretty things and get more of a feel for the city. We spent a lot of time walking on the street, since the sidewalk ends up being used mostly as moped parking. We were starting to feel more comfortable with trusting the drivers to not hit us, though, so it wasn’t too concerning.

School children were always very excited to see us. They loved it when Jason took pictures of them. I said hi to a boy who was around 12 as we walked by, and after he responded hello, asked how he was. His face went completely blank, but his friend excitedly broke in with “good, how are you?” When Jason responded that we were great, there was a lot of whooping and excited chatter.

School children exercising in a park (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After walking a few miles (we quickly decided that the Citadel was too confusing and headed out to the rest of the city for a while), we stopped and had coffee and ginger tea at the coffee shop of another hotel (since we have weak American stomachs, we have to be careful where we stop for cold drinks). After the drinks, we walked a little more and stopped for lunch at an odd place that served both Vietnamese and Italian food, which was actually pretty good. After lunch, we headed back to the hotel to get bikes.

The Perfume River (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We had decided not to do the optional tour to go out into the countryside and visit some tombs and villages, and opted for the cheaper option of taking ourselves out to visit a couple of the tombs by bike. Our hotel rented us the bikes, which were very old, very squeaky, and tiny because no one here is as big of us. We both spent a lot of time pedaling as fast as we could on tiny fixies. For some reason our hotel is in a Bermuda triangle of sorts and we can never find the right way to get in or out of that block, so we were a little flustered. Between being lost and trying not to die in the insane Vietnamese traffic, it took us about 15 minutes to get on the right road out of the city. I said we should turn left at the major intersection and then started second guessing myself so we stopped to look at the phone. While we were doing that a Vietnamese woman on a red moped stopped and asked us where we were going in fairly good English. We said Khai Den’s tomb, and she said we were going the wrong way, but also that we didn’t want to go there because there was no shade and it wasn’t that great, but over by where she lived there was a really pretty tomb and we should go there instead. She introduced herself as Roi and said she’d love the chance to practice her English with foreigners. She said she’d ride slow so we could follow her and we thanked her and followed her out into the countryside.

Roi leading us through the countryside (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On the way out Roi told us that she’s a farmer who grows rice and peanuts, among other things. We biked along the river, which was gorgeous. Lots of rice paddies and water buffalo and ducks and boats on the river. When we were going uphill, she told me to grab onto her arm and stop pedaling so she could tow me. She took us into the highway in order to cross the river on a big bridge, which she said was new, and then we turned off the bridge and started riding down an alley of sorts that had at one time been paved in concrete but was so broken up that it was basically off-roading. We rode between the river and a village that had dogs and chickens in front of all of the tiny houses. Everyone stared at us (white people don’t bike down the tiny secret alley) but most of them smiled back at me when I smiled at them. Eventually, we got to the tomb. Roi pulled her bike over to a parking area, and we locked our bikes together there. Roi told us that we could pay to go in and she would wait outside, and then afterward we could come to her house for a couple of minutes if we had time.

The tomb was Minh Mạng’s tomb, and it was really stunning. Minh Mạng started building the tomb, which consists of three gates and several associated structures, it in 1840. When he died in 1841, his son took up the construction and completed it. There were lots of beautiful walls and gates, and there were symmetrical twin lakes on either side. Everything was in various levels of restoration, with the main gates shining from restoration in the 1980s and 1990s. There were also many moss-covered, crumbling stone walls that had never been restored and were propped up in the meantime. The whole thing was shaded and green and incredibly quiet and peaceful.

One of the gates at Minh Mạng’s tomb (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A red door in a crumbling wall at Minh Mạng’s tomb (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Minh Mạng’s tomb (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Minh Mạng’s tomb (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We spent about half an hour there, mildly worried that the hotel’s bikes would be stolen, and headed out the gate again. Roi came out to meet us and we got on our bikes, which were not stolen. As we were leaving, a man motioned to our bikes delightedly and asked if we were Polish. Roi led us through a small herd of water buffalo and back along the off-roading alleyway and back across the big new bridge, and then we turned off into another small road and went through two more tiny villages along the water.

Roi towing Nicole up a bridge (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole in Roi’s home (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Roi in her home (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Outside of Roi’s home (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Then Roi took us to her house, which was a tiny structure with a bed and a table, and served us tea, which we maybe should not have drank but did because it was with hot water that we thought had been boiled at some point. We stayed about 10 minutes and talked to her about her life and family. She lives there with her husband and two children, and she has never left the Hué area. She said her two children were both in high school so they wouldn’t have to be farmers like her and her husband, but that high school cost a lot of money. She said she normally works all day in the farm, but that day she has gone to town to talk to the teachers instead, which is how she found us. We talked a little about her village of 500 people and whether she likes her neighbors. She said she doesn’t have a tv, so sometimes she goes over to the neighbor’s houses to use theirs. Then, in a very hesitant and embarrassed way, she asked for money for her childrens’ tuition. We gave her some of what we had, which was about $12 USD. We thought she was asking to follow us to our hotel so we could give her more, but she was just telling us that she would take us back to the city so that she could take the money to the teacher. She was embarrassed that we thought she was going to follow us to get more. So, we rode back to the city with her. She dropped us off where she had found us, along the big road that went into the city.

Heading back along the Perfume River (Photo/Jason Rafal)

In the end, we’re not sure if we were scammed or not, but we don’t think it really matters. $12 is a lot less than we would have paid for any “authentic” group experience, and we got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity out of it. We’re glad she found us.

Jason here. I don’t usually write on this blog. I leave that to Nicole, since I am a much better photographer than a writer, but I thought it might be interesting to give my side of this adventure. When we initially rode off with Roi toward Minh Mạng’s tomb, it was exhilarating. This is what it is to have an adventure in a foreign country. I was already excited to get out of the city. We both were not as enthused about visiting Hue when we arrived, compared to other cities we had already visited. It was depressing to see a city so ravaged by war, and not kept up by the state. So getting out and seeing a bit of the countryside was going to be a wonderful reprieve. Riding off with Roi was an exciting moment. Seeing the beautiful Perfume River to the side as we rode was breathtaking.

One thing to note about this adventure is that it took hours. The bikes were rickety and slow as we rode more than 12 kilometers each way. After the first several kilometers ticked by I began to overthink the situation, as one tends to do with that much quiet. I thought through how glad I was I had not brought my wallet or passport. How perhaps I would beg to keep my memory card, to keep the photos on my camera, if things were to take a turn for the worst. But those thoughts mostly passed after a few more kilometers. The sound of my rickety bike went from being a nuisance to a calming sound in the background. Then I began to really take in the sights and do the most dangerous thing I had done this whole trip: taking photographs with my camera while riding along the winding roads. I couldn’t help myself. I saw Nicole up ahead talking with Roi. Roi helping Nicole up the hills. I needed to document this – to remember this all. Nicole mentioned as we biked that we had nothing to give her, and wondered if we should get her something at Minh Mạng’s tomb. It was a touristy place, there were stalls selling little trinkets, water, and ice cream. I figured she probably didn’t want anything from there. So when we followed her to her modest home, we really had nothing to give other than conversation and a few dollars. When Roi timidly asked if we could perhaps help with some money – I really did not have a problem taking out a few hundred thousand VMD (worth about $12 USD, as Nicole mentioned). It was the least we could do for letting us learn about her life and having her guide us through the countryside where she lived. I have no clue if she did this often, or if she really did need the money for her children’s education. What I do know is that school does cost money, and that we will always have this memory exploring Vietnam.

More Bánh Xèo, Please

On Monday morning, 17 of us (a much more manageable number) took a boat ride on the Thu Bồn River to the Kim Bồng traditional carpentry village. It was lovely and cool with a nice breeze. Along the way, we learned a little more about Dang and he taught us about traditional ways of life in the central Vietnamese countryside. We boated by fishermen while Dang (our tour guide) explained what they were doing and why. He bribed one fisherman with a box of cookies to let us take the boat up close so that we could take pictures of him throwing the net. We also rode near the shore to see the farmers working in their fields. Dang explained to us that there are three main life goals for men in the Vietnamese countryside: get married, build a house, and own water buffalo. The water buffalo have a few uses. Besides supplying labor, the buffalo serves as a chalkboard so that children can learn to draw and write on its skin. When the buffalo dies, its skin is used to make traditional drums.

A fisherman on the Thu Bồn River (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A fisherman casts his net on the Thu Bồn River (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A bird flies off the top of a fishing net (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A few minutes into the boat trip, Dang shared a jar of lemon slices pickled in honey. He explained that once a year, when lemons are in season, he buys 20 kilograms of lemons and 10 liters of honey and pickles all of it for two months. The result is a very odd textured, sweet, slightly lemony snack that is apparently wonderful for sore throats.

We docked the boat at the carpentry village and got off to take a look around. We stopped at the market area and Dang bought us some local fruit to try. Milky apple is green, but the inside is closer to the consistently of an overripe tomato. It has a subtle, sweet taste. We ate these by cutting off the top and putting a spoon in the fruit. We also ate a bumpy apple, which had a lumpy external skin that crumbled away from the smooth white inner fruit. After our snack, we walked around and looked at the various wood carving workshops. Dang bribed some of the wood carvers with cigarettes to let us come take a closer look at what they were working on. We also visited a boat builder who received cigarettes to let us ask questions about building boats and take some pictures. It takes a couple of weeks to make one of the wood and metal rowboats, and they cost about $1000 and last around 15 years. The all-wood boats take longer and are more expensive. Dang also bargained with a woman to bring her shoulder pole basket of fruit over so that we could take the most touristy picture ever (a white person with a listening device and conical hat holding a shoulder pole basket). As Dang explained, there are four functions of the conical hat: it keeps your head dry in heavy rain, you can use it to fan yourself, you can use it to carry vegetables at the market, and in the old days, farmers in the field could use it to take a drink. At least 6 people in our group have bought them at this point.

A carpenter carves out a pattern with a tool resembling a jigsaw (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A milky apple (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Jason selling fruit (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

After wandering around the carpentry village, we went to an organic farm to learn how to make bánh xèo, which is a Vietnamese pancake made from rice powder, water, egg, turmeric, and spring onion (bean sprouts and meat and/or seafood are usually included inside). The chef was very animated. After he gave the initial demonstration, he asked for two volunteers from the audience that we’re going to catch the pancakes that he was tossing from the pans. One of the guys lost the pancake as it slid across the plate and fell onto the ground. The other managed to lose the plate as well as the pancake, which both smashed into the floor, but he was very proud of having caught a small bit of the pancake in his hand in the process. After that, he brought us up in threes and taught us to make the pancakes while good naturedly berating us about our cooking skills. It was a lot of fun, and bánh xèo is delicious. We’re going to make it at home frequently. When everyone had learned how to cook, we sat down to eat a delicious four-course lunch from ingredients made at the organic farm. They integrate a lot of mint, which doesn’t usually occur to me when I’m cooking. It’s delicious, though. Dang explained to us that Vietnamese food is all about the yin and yang; instead of making it spicy, they use complimentary combinations of different flavors. They also try to balance crunchy and smooth with every dish, which is very nice.

Jason catching bánh xèo on his plate (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Nicole fails at flipping bánh xèo (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Boats on the water near the Tra Que village (Photo/Jason Rafal)

For dinner, we visited Morning Glory, which appears to be a restaurant catering to foreigners who want to try southern Vietnamese comfort food. It was excellent. We got an assortment based on Dang’s recommendations and what sounded good, including white rose, three best friends spring rolls, tofu and garlic chive soup, and cao lau. At the end of the meal, I had frozen yogurt with fruit. Even this had some crunch, though, in the form of roasted coconut shavings and peanuts.

Cao lau (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Rickshaws in Hội An (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Lights on the Thu Bồn River in Hội An (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Tuesday we left for Huế. We stopped for a few minutes at a marble carving workshop and store at the foot of the Marble Mountain, which was where Vietnamese marble was originally sourced from (at this point, they want to retain the mountain’s structural integrity, so they source the marble from the mountains in northern Vietnam and ship it over land to the workshops). There was an enormous number of sculptures of all sizes. I was impressed by the amount of color; some statues were the traditional all-white, but many had marbled color or a few different color variations within each piece. I especially liked when they used white marble for skin and colored marble for clothes on the statues of people.

Marble carvings at the workshop near Hội An (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Because the weather was good (it rained in the wee hours of the morning, but we still haven’t seen rain on this trip) we were able to go over the mountain pass to Huế instead of using the Hải Vân tunnel. The pass is a stunningly beautiful and somewhat treacherous twisty mountain road between Da Nang and the area of Huế. While I never felt afraid for my life, our driver took corners quicker than bus drivers in the United States, and we did pass a work truck on a two-lane road while going up a pass. Motorbiking on the pass looked fun, but the drivers also had to deal with the tour buses taking up all of the space. Dang said that before the tunnel was completed in 2005, there was a lot of traffic on the pas and accidents were frequent. There were many small shrines along the side of the road.

Hai Van Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The view from Hai Van Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On the bus, Dang taught us about Vietnamese letters and sounds. Mostly, I learned that I should never try to say anything in Vietnamese, because the same two letter pair can mean six different things depending on the slight change in intonation causes by adding one of the accents above the vowels. He said one of the sounds is impossible for foreigners and told us a story about a foreigner who wanted to ask his girlfriend’s dad for permission to marry her but ended up just asking to become one of the man’s goats (the man responded that he had many goats already and did not need more).

If I could pronounce it, the Vietnamese alphabet does make some sense. Instead of vowels arbitrarily making different sounds in different words, like in English, each vowel with each accent has a set sound. The accent line that goes up means that you add an upward lilt at the end of the sound, and down means that you drop your voice at the end of the sound. It’s impossible to speak Vietnamese in a monotone.

We arrived in Huế in the early afternoon, had lunch, and headed out to the Imperial City for a tour. Dang walked us around the former royal quarters and then let us walk through the Forbidden Purple City, where the kind, eunuchs, and concubines lived, at our own pace. The Imperial City fell into disrepair over the past century and is in the process of being restored, so it was an interesting mix of crumbling ruins and rebuilt structures.

At the Imperial City (Photo/Jason Rafal)

At the Imperial City (Photo/Jason Rafal)

At the Imperial City (Photo/Jason Rafal)

At the Forbidden Purple City (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We had dinner at a restaurant called Banana Mango, which ended up being delicious Vietnamese comfort food (we had spring rolls and stir fry). We have both decided that we really like how Huế feels as a city—it’s bustling, but it’s not as insane as Ho Chi Minh City. We have also decided that we want to come back some time and ride motor bikes—the traffic is still a little insane, but it’s growing on us, and the bike seems like a natural way to get around in Vietnam. It definitely makes a whole lot more sense than a car.

Evening traffic in Huế (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Central Coast

On Sunday morning, I spent sunrise walking along the Saigon River. This was a brilliant idea I had at 5 in the morning when I couldn’t go back to sleep. It was slightly less hot and humid, and there was less traffic, which helped with crossing the busy streets to get to the dock. The groups of people sitting by the water smiled at me. It was a nice last moment in Saigon.Sunrise on the Saigon River (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

We spent a while at the breakfast buffet since we weren’t going to have time to have a proper lunch. I had two breakfast realizations: I love passion fruit, and I have become competent enough with chopsticks that it was easier to eat my noodle soup with them (this was a nice congratulatory moment).

After breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and got on a bus to the airport. Our tour manager, Dang, had the stressful job of getting 36 foreigners and their luggage through check in and security. Amusingly, the lady at security told me that she was going to run a test with my bin, and then placed a screwdriver under my phone. They seemed satisfied, so I’m guessing it worked.

After a short plane ride, we landed in Da Nang, which is on the central coast. We all got on the bus and went to China Beach, where Dang gave us Vietnamese beer and peanuts and let us have a few minutes on the beach. China Beach was given that name by the Americans, who sent soldiers there from the bases for R&R. We are not beach people, as a general rule, but we enjoyed walking along the water (which was surprisingly warm) and taking pictures of the water against the green mountains. There was a giant white status of the female Buddha, or Guan Yin, visible against the mountains, which added some nice color contrast against the green jungle and blue waves.China Beach (Photo/Jason Rafal)Us at China Beach (Photo/Dang)China Beach (Photo/Jason Rafal)

From the beach we drove to Hoi An, which Dang told us means “peaceful meeting place.” Along the beach in Dan Nang there were lots of upscale resorts and condos, and there was new construction happening everywhere along with advertisements for luxury living. As we drove south down the coast, these condos gave way to small houses where normal Vietnamese people lived.

Hoi An is absolutely adorable. The original part of the city has a lot of Chinese and Japanese influence and is a UNESCO World Heritage Centre. Across the Thu Bon River there is the newer part of town, which has a big less of the historical charm. Everything is beautiful. The buildings are colorful and cute architecturally, and the shops sell beautiful custom clothing, shoes, and other handmade goods.Hoi An (Photo/Jason Rafal)Hoi An (Photo/Jason Rafal)Hoi An (Photo/Jason Rafal)The Japanese Bridge (Photo/Jason Rafal)A dog wanders through the tourists (Photo/Jason Rafal)Light switches (Photo/Jason Rafal)Incense (Photo/Jason Rafal)Fukian Assembly Hall (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Hoi An is famous for its custom clothing and shoes, and Jason had been dreaming of a custom suit since we booked the trip, so we took a trip to a tailor that Dang recommended. When we were there, a busy and slightly frazzled woman walked us through picking fabric and styles between telling us about her 9-month old baby and laughing about our height (she said she would have tried to give me a deal, but my legs required too much fabric and she couldn’t do it). She was obviously very used to women bringing their significant others there to get them fitted, because she kept asking me for my approval on Jason’s choices on things like fabric and jacket length. I just nodded a lot, since it seemed easier than explaining my total lack of fashion sense. Jason ended up getting a suit and two shirts, and I got two dresses. She set a time for us to come in the next day to try them on, and then we wandered back into Hoi An.

After dark, Hoi An lights up. Each store front and restaurant has paper lanterns that are lit at sunset. There are many people wandering around selling lit candles in paper boxes, which purchasers can hold or lower into the river. There were also a few couples getting their pictures taken in small wooden boats full of the boxes of light.

A couple posing for photographs in front of the Japanese Bridge (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Selling snacks along the river (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Tomorrow, we leave in a boat for the countryside.

Arriving on the Other Side of the World

When we told people that we were vacationing in Vietnam, we inevitably got one of two answers: an excited “wow, that’s awesome!” Or a confused and slightly alarmed “why?” The probability of getting each answer had a generational skew; people who had solid memories of the Vietnam war were much more likely to question our choice. People our age were more likely to think of the beautiful country featured in the Top Gear season 12 special or the occasional travel show episode. Regardless of the response we received, we told everyone the same thing: it had been on our list of places to go, we had gotten a great deal, and we were very excited.

We flew Japan Airlines from L.A. to Tokyo and from Tokyo to Ho Chi Minh City (the locals use Ho Chi Minh City and Saigon interchangeably, so I will as well). I had been told that Asian airlines would spoil me for flying on U.S. airlines, and I can’t disagree. For the 12-hour flight to Tokyo, we opted to purchase premium economy seats, mostly so that our knees wouldn’t be completely ruined. There were some lovely perks; not only could I stretch out my legs completely, but we also got tons of snacks and free alcoholic drinks. At one point we were served hot broth, which was wonderful. There were also slippers to wear during the flight, which provided a welcome change from our hiking boots. A meal on Japan Airlines (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

The new 787s succeeded in feeling more airy with their curved, high baggage bins, but they are really not built for easy access by short people. The flight attendants couldn’t reach the baggage bins in the center of the plane to close them, so they apologized profusely while standing on the edge of passengers’ seats in order to reach. When we were deplaning in Vietnam, we noticed another issue with the American-made planes: people couldn’t reach their luggage to get it out of the bins. A few people around us asked Jason to take their bags down.

After deplaning and waiting about 45 minutes for our visa on arrival, we got our bag and stepped out into the tremendously hot and very hectic city at midnight local time. We were not sure whether there would be someone waiting for us still, since the flight had been late and our visas had taken a while, but found a man holding up the sign for our tour company and waved at him excitedly. Outside the airport (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The half hour drive through Ho Chi Minh City was slightly alarming at the very least. Our tour manager calls Saigon traffic chaos, which is pretty accurate. There is very little regard for lanes or right of way, and everyone weaves through traffic as much as is allowed by the size of their vehicle. The bikes are everywhere. While there is a bike helmet law in Vietnam, it does not apply to children under five, so many parents ride with unprotected children in front of them. Walking around in the city and crossing streets is actually not as scary as I expected–the general advice is to walk very slow and let the bikes figure out how best to go around you. It feels like a terrible trust game, but it seems to work for the most part.

Bikes (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Speeding bikes (Photo/Jason Rafal)

In the morning, we had a buffet breakfast at the hotel before meeting with our tour guide. The buffet was massive–there was an omelet station with pancakes and crepes, a soup station, American-style buffet including fried potatoes, sausage, and bacon, fried rice and noodles, chicken curry, a full salad bar for some reason, fruit, yogurt, toast and pastries, juice, coffee and tea, and probably some other stuff that I missed.

After breakfast we started being sheep with the rest of our tour group (about 35 people). At least half of them had already been in Thailand and Cambodia for the past week, and we joined up with their tour in Ho Chi Minh City. After our briefing, we headed out into the city in a bus. Our first stop was the Notre Dame cathedral, which was completely created in France and then shipped to Vietnam, and the Buu Dien central post office, which was one of the first buildings built by the French in the 1800s. There were at least 4 couples taking wedding pictures during our 15 minute stay. Next, we went to a lacquer shop and watched workers go through the various processes involved in putting art and 17 coats of lacquer over pieces of wood. The result is gorgeous. We then went to the Ben Thanh market, where I far overpaid for an orange and was generally very overwhelmed by the huge number of people trying to get me to buy things. A fire truck races to a practice fire (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The post office building (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Outside the Cathedral (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Inside the Cathedral (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Learning about lacquer layers (Photo/Jason Rafal)Crushing duck shells into lacquer (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Crushing duck shells into lacquer (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Ben Thanh market (Photo/Jason Rafal)Mystery food in the Ben Thanh market (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Shrimp at the Ben Thanh market (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Fruit at the Ben Thanh market (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After taking the bus back to the hotel, we shared an omelet banh mi that we got from our tour manager (delicious, and surprisingly spicy at the end) and struck out on our own. After going to see the opera house and failing to find a pho place that our tour manager recommended, we decided to try to find another place he had recommended. While we were wandering back and forth on the street looking lost, a local took pity on us and pointed us into a courtyard full of restaurants, including the English-friendly one we were looking for. After a tasty meal in which we debated several times about eating the sprouts and lettuce included with our meal (generally not recommended for weak American stomachs) we headed out for a long walk.

Vietnamese coffee (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Saigon is very hot and muggy. After less than an hour, we were dripping sweat pretty constantly. We made a large circle around District 1, visiting the history museum and walking by the war remnants museum. We both enjoyed reading the Vietnamese communist spin on the historical artifacts and time periods. Our walk also took us away from the tourist areas, which was a nice change. Here, locals watched us walk by with no real interest and shops became specialized instead of devoted to chachskies, and we frequently stepped off the sidewalk to avoid a group of people squatting beside a bike they were fixing.

The history museum (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The history museum (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On the walk back to the hotel we went through the Tao Dan Park, which was a lovely surprise. In the midst of the loud, hectic city, the large polygon of green space was a welcome retreat. There was an exercise area where people used common equipment, and there were several groups of dancers, drummers, and other performers practicing. There were also art pieces scattered through the park to provide visual interest. It was surprisingly peaceful.

Public exercise equipment in Tao Dan Park (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A castle in the Tao Dan Park (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We were going to do some more wandering tonight, but it’s not even 8:00 p.m. local and we are both struggling to keep our eyes open. Tomorrow, we fly to Da Nang. 

City Hall against the backdrop of a modern building (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A tangle of cables (Photo/Jason Rafal)

An Abundance of Vastness

For the first time in three years, we did not go to the Pacific Northwest for the 4th of July. Instead, we went to Gunnison to see Nicole’s family. Jason had never been to Gunnison for on-season, and he found the crowds rather surprising.

On the morning of the 4th of July, we (Nicole, Jason, and Maia) got up at 6:30 and drove to Schofield Pass. Britt (Nicole’s Dad) informed us on Friday night that there’s an annual 1/3 marathon run from Gothic to Crested Butte, which is why we left so early. When we got up to Gothic at 7:30, the race organizers let us know that the road would shortly be closed until 9, so we had excellent timing.

From Gothic, we drove over the very narrow and dramatic Schofield Pass. We took Maia’s Toyota Highlander for the higher clearance, which was a good choice. The dirt road was sometimes fine, but sometimes very rough. We reached the summit at 10,707 feet and stopped to look at the two sticker-covered summit signs. From there, we dropped down into a meadow and parked at the West Maroon trailhead.

One of the signs marking Schofield Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Starting off on the trail (Photo/Jason Rafal)

I had decided that we were going to hike Hasley Pass, which starts on the same trail as the West Maroon trail to Aspen. Part way up the trail, we took a fork to the left toward Hasley Pass.

We hiked along a very full creek for the first part of the trail (Photo/Jason Rafal)

There were lots of flowering plants (Photo/Jason Rafal)

There’s something truly remarkable about being surrounded by mountains and completely alone. After walking past a couple of people camping near the trailhead, we saw no one. When Jason and Maia split up from me so we could all hunt for the trail, it started reminding me of the epic landscape scenes in the Lord of the Rings. Just a couple of tiny dots of people against the massive mountains and the blue sky. I have never experienced that kind of vastness, and it was sublime, humbling, and completely gorgeous.

Snow near the top of the pass (Photo/Rafal)

Vastness (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Despite our best efforts, we did not find the return loop trail. We thought we had at one point, but it abruptly went off a cliff. Not sure what else to do, we picked our way down through the rocks and the skunk cabbage until we reached the lower trail we had come in on. As started back to the car, we started seeing groups of people just heading out for a hike. Getting up at 6 had been worth it for the solitude.

Starting down the steep mountainside (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole and Maia pick their way through the skunk cabbage (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Columbine flowers against a skyline of mountains (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Emerald Lake below Schofield Pass (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We spent the rest of the day eating, walking the dogs, and discussing Maia’s final cake decorating submission for the county competition. She was making a three-tiered cake, wedding style, with flowers and other intricacies. Inspired by our hike, we all decided that she should try to make columbines out of royal icing and put them on the cake. It’s a testament to her talent that this was possible (after searching google, we only found one other person who had done it).

Our other afternoon activity was making challah. Surprisingly, the final loaf was huge. Less surprising was that it was delicious.

Maia provides scale for the giant challah loaf (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Instead of going to the fireworks, we stayed inside and watched the Fellowship of the Ring (we still had the music stuck in our heads).

On Sunday morning, we went up Taylor Canyon for one more hike. This was a heavily forested trail along a very full creek. The dogs were very excited to get out and run.

The dogs enjoy freedom (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A fallen tree reflected in a beaver pond (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Tilly drinks water as if she was trying to catch fish in her mouth (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The forrested trail (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

A heart left behind by a beaver (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The trip was great, but the drive home was pretty rough. Maybe we shouldn’t drive to the mountains for 4th of July weekend.

Among the Goats

On May 15th, we took the day off of work. We spent the morning walking around the Denver Botanic Gardens with Nicole’s grandparents, and then we all drove up to Gunnison in the afternoon. Maia’s graduation was not until Sunday, so we planned to have her graduation dinner and party on Saturday night, and then leave for Denver directly after the ceremony.

A bee at the Denver Botanic Gardens (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Saturday, we went to the goat ranch to help Ann and her 4-Hers deworm and de-lice the goats. We helped catch goats and hold them, and then spent a while wandering around the ranch and hanging out with the animals. Nicole got an arm workout by holding baby goats while we waited for them to get treated, which involved oral deworming medicine and topical pet de-licing stuff.

Kids with kids (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A very vocal kid (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole holds a young buck in line for medication (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole with the weanling does (Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

Rain (and snow) coming over the mountains while the human kids start catching the bucks (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We spent the rest of Saturday helping out in the kitchen while Maia made apple turnovers and cran-raspberry shortbread bars. It kept raining, so there was not a lot to do outside. We went to an early dinner at Garlic Mikes, an Italian place in town, and enjoyed pasta and wine (except for Maia, who got a very fancy Italian soda). Then we headed home to prepare the snacks for Maia’s graduation party.

At 7:30, people started arriving for Maia’s party. We had a feast laid out, with food ranging from cheese and crackers to hummus to baked deserts, and we snacked before heading out to the bonfire.

Although it had been raining all day, the skies miraculously began to clear, and with a little help from some fuel, we were able to get the flames started. The next two hours were spent standing and sitting out by the fire, roasting s'mores and throwing the occasional marshmallow into the fire to watch it burn.

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

Watching a marshmallow burn (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Sunday, Maia’s graduation filled the Western State College gymnasium. After speeches from the class president, valedictorian, and co-salutatorians, which ranged from congratulatory to nerdy, the class of 66 students graduated. See the relieved graduate and the proud family below.

Maia on graduation day (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Maia in line to get her diploma holder (Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole and Maia after graduation (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Maia and her grandparents (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Eric and Maia (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Britt and Maia (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Maia and her parents (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Maia and the whole family (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Maia and Jason (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Glowing Rocks

Story by Nicole

The last two days of our trip were very driving-heavy, but we were looking forward to spending a night camping in Zion National Park. After hours of flat desert, we began seeing the stunning white and red rocks that made Utah so appealing for outdoor recreation.

We got to Zion at around 5:30 p.m. and decided to take a hike before dinner. We were staying at the Watchman Campground, and since we did not want to do any additional driving, we decided to hike the trail that began next to the campground. Zion is dramatically beautiful, and we weren’t even in the famous parts. We’ve both said that we’d like to go back and explore the canyons in depth.

Watchman Campground (Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

(Photo/Jason Rafal)

After our hike, we set up camp and started dinner. The woman at the park gate had said that there were no bears, but to put our food in the car or the locked box to protect against overeager squirrels. The lack of bears was something that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around. When I took some garbage out, I had a moment of panic because they were not bear proof. I must admit, though, that not having to worry about bears is nice and relaxing.

Our amazing decades-old cooking stove (Photo/Jason Rafal)

I thoroughly recommend camping in Zion at the beginning of May. There are beautiful dark rocky silouettes all around, which is great, but it’s also just such an incredibly pleasant temperature at night. The low when we were there was 55 degrees. I’ve never been on a camping trip in which it did not get down into the high 30s at the very least. Between the warmth and the lack of bears, it felt kind of like we were cheating at camping. We rose before dawn and watched the rising sun touch the top of the rocks as we drove away.

Sunrise light (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We’re now home in Denver. I love having adventurous vacations, but we are both really looking forward to sleeping.

Otter Sight, Otter Mind

Story by Nicole

On Thursday, we explored Monterey County. We started by driving up the PCH. We drove through Carmel-by-the-Sea, decided we did not need to stop and hang out, and continued on to Monterey. In Monterey, we walked around the strangely empty but still adorable town. We walked out to the dock and spent several minutes watching the sea lions attempt to fit as many individuals as possible on a tiny rowboat. One of them had been curled up on the bow with another, and then decided it was too uncomfortable and bailed, and then wanted back on the boat, and this really upset the sea lion that had been on the bow the whole time. We were so entertained by the sea lions that we were late for kayaking.

Sea lions struggle for room on the boat (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A seagull takes off from Jason’s car as we approach (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We drove out to the Elkhorn Slough to meet Ron, Eric’s friend and old coworker. He spends a lot of time studying sea otters; we were very lucky to be kayaking with an enthusiastic expert. Ron helped us get situated in our kayaks, and then we headed out into the water.

There was marine wildlife everywhere. There were many types of birds, including cormorants, egrets, brown pelicans, and a massive white pelican. There were dozens of crabs in the mud, and they scuttled away as soon as they felt the water vibrations caused by our paddles. There were harbor seals, which poked their eyes and noses out of the water and followed us around, watching curiously. My favorite part, though, was seeing dozens of endangered sea otters.

There are around a hundred happy sea otters living in the slough, and we saw males, females, and even pups, which cried when their mothers stayed under the water longer than they did. We spent a couple of hours kayaking around with the animals and asking endless questions of Ron.

Students catch and measure sharks on their regular rounds (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole watches a sea otter (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Ron watches as a flock of birds takes off (Photo/Jason Rafal)

For lunch, we all headed to Phil’s, a famous fish shop in Moss Landing. Phil’s is right on the beach in the midst of Monterey marine labs. The fish and the atmosphere were both great. After lunch, we drove back through Monterey and Pacific Grove, both of which are beautiful. Jason was disappointed that we weren’t able to visit the aquarium, but we decided that we had to save something for next time.

A view of the Big Sur coastline, including the Bixby bridge (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Is This Poison Oak?

Story by Nicole

The goal of Wednesday was to explore the Big Sur area. We began by visiting Andrew Molera State Park. The bridge over the creek at the beginning of the trail was washed out, so we removed our shoes and socks and waded across. Once on the other side, we re-donned shoes and walked to the Molera beach. Jason was not pleased about getting his feet wet.

Nicole and Eric wade across the creek (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Jason’s reaction to crossing the creek (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

The beach was, of course, stunning. We hung out for a few minutes and watched a sea otter.

Windblown flowers (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Eric celebrates successfully balancing small rocks (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Eric contemplates the ocean (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole watches a sea otter (Photo/Jason Rafal)

For the next couple of hours, we hiked along the bluff, followed constantly by strong winds. Nicole’s grandfather, Eric, pointed out native and non-native plants along the trail. After he pointed out poison oak, Nicole was constantly concerned about accidentally touching it (pro tip for those who have not been trained to recognize poison oak: it has three leaves grouped together, like a berry, but it has smooth stems). We continued for a couple of miles before turning back toward the car.

A view of the ocean (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The hills above the Big Sur coastline (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Eric leads the way on the trail (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Next, we decided to return to Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park and walk the famed waterfall trail, which we had not had time to visit the previous day. It was very easy and touristy walk, but the view of a thin waterfall falling directly onto the sand in a turquoise bay surrounded by huge rocks was definitely beautiful and worth putting up with the tourists. We have been seeing a lot of selfie sticks, which we had first seen in Italy. It’s amusing how it seemed to follow us back to the states.

The waterfall view (it’s a located on the left side, and falls onto the beach near the ocean) (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Another coastal view from Julia Burns Pfeiffer State Park (Photo/Jason Rafal)

After the waterfall walk, we headed to Nepenthe for lunch. This restaurant has been in Big Sur for generations and is famous for the amazing views of Big Sur visible from its balcony. Since our day pass got us into all of the state parks in the area, we went to Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park to wrap up the day, and then headed home.

Lack of internet and phone service means that I’ve been writing these blogs in bulk to post when I feel like going down to the check in and grocery cabin to use the wifi. It’s not the ideal way to blog, but it works.

Nicole types blog posts in the cabin (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Pacific Coast Highway

Story by Nicole

The drive from Los Angeles to Big Sur was the shortest drive we’d had yet in the trip, so we were a little more leisurely in our schedule. From Venice Beach, we drove through Santa Monica and Malibu north to San Luis Obispo, where we had lunch at a local pizza and Mediterranean place. After eating more pizza than was strictly necessary, we began the classic Pacific Coast Highway drive.

Saying goodbye to our cottage (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Jason and his car were delightfully happy to be driving the PCH. We made a game of stopping to take pictures and then waiting for a decent stretch between cars before getting back on the road so that Jason could speed through the tight corners. No one really kept up, except for a very ambitious white Toyota Yaris that was probably driven by Mario Andretti. That tiny car actually passed us on a small straight stretch and sped away.

The Big Sur coastline (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A word about the central coast and Big Sur area, for those who have not been there: it’s stunning. There’s the Pacific Ocean, stretching out as far as the eye can see until it joins with the sky in a haze of blue. There are the jagged cliffs, which stretch out into the water in never-ending layers. There are the forests of redwoods and oak trees, which conceal beautiful creeks and surprisingly steep canyon trails. It all comes together in a very unusual and striking beauty.

On our way to the cabin we rented in Big Sur, we stopped at Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park to do the Ewolden hike, which was a 5-mile trek that included a steep trail up the creek within a redwood canopy, a gently meandering trail through an oak grove, and an impressive view of the ocean. After the hike, we drove the 20 minutes to our cabin, which was just beyond Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park (a lot of the park names here sound the same, mostly because there were only a few families who had key roles in developing the area).

Redwood canopy (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Nicole stands under a giant redwood (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Ocean views from the mountainside (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Our cabin is both very adorable and very large, with two bedrooms, a large living room, and a complete kitchen. It manages to be both rustic and easily livable, which is nice in a cabin. It’s very old-style Big Sur.

We’re Just Not Beach People

Story by Nicole

After spending 5 hours playing the game Desert Bus in real life, we arrived in the greater Los Angeles area. We were cutting the timing a bit close; we had meant to get to Venice Beach by 3 to beat some of the more horrendous traffic, but because I was messing with blog photos in the morning (did you see they got bigger?) we were hoping to just get to our airbnb by 4. That being said, it only took us two hours to get through LA to the beach, which is pretty good. We pulled up to the house at 3:45.

Our room is absolutely adorable. It’s basically a stand-alone studio apartment with a screened off bathroom. The family lives in the house that’s on the property, and they have apparently been there forever and have a few generations in the house. It’s about a block from the beach.

We like Venice Beach, but we’re not enthralled. I think part of the issue is that I love mountains and Jason is not fond of sand. But, it’s pretty and has good seafood. I have no real complaints. The city is rather delightfully weird, which we appreciate as people who have lived in Boulder.

Perspective on a dreidel (Photo/Jason Rafal)

A somewhat patiently waiting dog (Photo/Jason Rafal)

An enticing offer (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We spent a lot of time walking along the beach. Jason tried to climb one of the ropes at Muscle Beach, which did not go as well as it could have. After dinner, when a lot of people had left the beach, it was a mix of calm ocean and random nightlife. There were a few people who had spent a considerable amount of time adding lights to their bikes.

Santa Monica Pier (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Jason attempts to climb the rope (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Evening beach colors (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Silhouettes and a lighted bike (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Next stop is the PCF and Big Sur. We’re excited.

The Rainy Desert

Story by Nicole

On Saturday, we drove from Denver to Sedona. Jason has been to Sedona, but I have not, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. It was an 11-hour trip with frequent and sometimes terrifying rain. We later realized that the flight to Vietnam (we have a trip planned for November 2015) would be even longer with less legroom, which was an alarming thought. 

Sunroof reflections. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Arizona’s refusal to switch to Daylight Savings time led to much confusion. Our phones, along with Jason’s car, had no idea what time zone we were in, and thus we had no idea what time we were getting to Sedona, which resulted in an unnecessarily late dinner reservation. When we started coming down the canyon into Sedona, there were low clouds and heavy rain obscuring the scenery, but I was able to get an idea of how stunning the canyon is. 

Driving into Sedona in the rain. (Photo/Nicole Harrison)

Our room in Sedona is massive. I can’t remember if I got a massive room on purpose, but I’m hoping it’s not far more expensive than I thought it would be. We have a small kitchen, dining room, living room, porch, bedroom, and bathroom. It’s much larger than our apartment. 

Our resort is immediately next to Tlaquepaque, which is some sort of upscale “traditional Mexican village” shopping experience. It’s very quaint, and cute, and full of expensive art shops. Staying here made me feel uncomfortably rich and white, but it is nice, in a surreal sort of way. 

Tlaquepaque. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

On Sunday morning, we woke to light rain and fog. We had been fairly concerned that it would just rain the entire time we were in Sedona, but it seemed to be lightening up. We took advantage of the break in the weather to hike to Devil’s Bridge, which is a fantastic natural stone bridge against a hillside. We spent a few minutes talking to an excitable woman from the Czech Republic who was traveling alone. She was very excited to see the bridge, and asked me to pose with her while Jason snapped some pictures with her camera. She had come in from California, and had already been to Big Sur. She said there would be lots of bridges. 

Along the road to the Devil’s Bridge trailhead. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Muddy reflections. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

The Devil’s Bridge. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

During lunch in a Tlaquepaque café, we noticed a storm was headed in, so we quickly ate and headed out for another hike. Doe Mountain was supposed to have amazing views, and we wanted to make it to the top before the inevitable rain. As we climbed, we watched the curtain of rain move toward us across the valley. 

The view from the top was, indeed, incredible. I appreciated the fact that I was not afraid of heights; some other hikers winced watching me go up to the edge. We snapped a couple of pictures, felt the storm beginning to blow rain at us, and started running off the mountain. 

Rain approaching Doe Mountain. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

While we drove away from Doe Mountain, we decided to head to Slide Rock State Park, which was reputed to have a lovely stream on a rock bed that allows people to slide over the rocks. It was far too cold for swimming, but we did walk along the stream and hop across on some rocks. 

Oak Creek at Slide Rock State Park. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

Oak Creek at Slide Rock State Park. (Photo/Jason Rafal)

We finished this blog while drinking a bottle of Asti Tosti, which was supposed to be a fancy bottle of bubbly to celebrate the beginning of our trip. It is almost gaggably (totally a word) sweet. We’re going to finish it anyway. Tomorrow: California.