I'm sitting in Para Coffee in Charlottesville, VA, a stone's throw from the University of Virginia. My alma mater. The kids studying here are so young. I can't help thinking about the way my life has changed since I was one of them. And how it's about to change again.
Fifteen years ago, I left Charlottesville and moved across the country to start a new job and a new life in Seattle, WA. I'm about to do the same thing again. Back then, I was following the path laid out for me by my parents. I didn't know enough about the Path to be unhappy. It would be only a few months before the questions would come: What now? Climb the ladder? Work and save? Is there nothing else?
The unanswered questions eventually drove me to trade the Path for the Road, and it's taken me to some pretty great places like Koh Tao, Thailand. While there, it occurred to me to ask: Why am I doing this? And I had an epiphany of sorts. The Really Big Question is just this: Am I stuck in the life I was born to, or am I free to change it? If I'm not free to change my life -- or if I'm too scared to -- I'm no better than a man living under house arrest. But if I'm truly free, I should be able to give up everything and go out there and make it on my own. You know, prove it, like Thoreau. And just like that, a big piece clicked into place. After two and a half years on the road, I have my proof. That road is mine. I own it.
One question down, many to go. The other answers probably aren't on the Road. I don't know where they are, but I suspect that my best chance at finding them involve being still, building meaningful relationships, and participating in a community.
So once again, I am preparing for a move to Seattle. But this time is different. I'm stepping off the Road onto a Path of my own choosing, and I'm choosing it freely. It feels good. It feels right. Even Thoreau left his shack in the woods eventually. My own experiment at simple living is over for now. A success, I think.
I don't expect to be updating this blog much anymore. Not for a long while, at least. Thanks for reading along. Come visit me in Seattle. There's always room on my couch for you. In my home.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Koh Tao: Over The Top
I've been meaning to get to the east side of Koh Tao for a while now. I tried to hike over the mountain pass once before but was turned back by the blazing sun and the oppressive humidity. Having run out of water before even making it half-way up, I resolved to try again another day. Yesterday, it was a bit cooler and overcast, so I packed a huge bottle of water and my camera, laced up my trainers and hit the trail.
An hour later, after shedding a few pounds of sweat and consuming most of my water, here's the view from the near the top of the pass:
To get there, I had to hike up a "road" that looked like this:
And that's before it got bad. In addition to ruts as deep as I am tall, it was so steep in places I had to scramble on all fours, occasionally climbing over or under felled trees and pushing through huge spider webs. I felt like Indiana Jones.
Bizarrely, there was an abandoned tea shop at the top.
Nearby was a residence, believe it or not. When the owners dog started barking at me, the man came out and gave me a hard look, top to bottom. Then he started laughing. I must have been quite the sight.
Finally, I got to see what the view is like to the east of Koh Tao.
Waaay down there is Tanote Bay, my destination. I certainly wasn't going back the way I came. My only hope was to make it to Tanote somehow and maybe catch a taxi boat from there back to Sairee. Thankfully, the way down to Tanote was much easier going.
When I finally make it to Tanote beach, I threw my stuff down and marched right into the water. Aahhh...
Rested, refreshed and refueled, I treated myself to beer at a beachside bar, and chatted with some folks there: a pair from Alberta, Canada and two blokes from Philly. They said they had gotten there the long way 'round on their scooters, and that they could give me a lift back. Great!
I asked the bartender -- a local -- if he had ever walked over the pass. He raised his eyebrows. "Yes," he said, "once," and smiled.
The four were ready to go, so I got on the back of one girl's scooter. We skidded and sputtered and fishtailed uphill about 20 feet when I told her to stop. "Thanks, and no offense, but this isn't working with me on the back." She said she had been thinking the same, so I wished them all well and headed back to the shack.
There, the bartender told me there was a taxi. Not a boat but a car that left at set times. I killed a half-hour and then met up with the driver. The "taxi" was a big, hulking pick-up truck. I climbed in the back, along with two local Thai women. We took off like a shot.
We climbed impossibly steep, rutted, slippery hard-pack dirt roads strewn with boulders and debris. Up, up, up, in no time, we were bumping along this narrow, windy "road" 100's of feet above the water. Oh my god. What kept us from sliding off the side and pachinko-ing through the palm trees into the bay below, I'll never know. Even the local Thai women were pounding on the cab and yelling at the driver to slow down. No pictures. I was holding on with both hands.
I made it back to Sairee minus a few pounds and a few years of my life, with a new appreciation of all that this little island has to offer. Next time, I'll hire a boat.
An hour later, after shedding a few pounds of sweat and consuming most of my water, here's the view from the near the top of the pass:
To get there, I had to hike up a "road" that looked like this:
And that's before it got bad. In addition to ruts as deep as I am tall, it was so steep in places I had to scramble on all fours, occasionally climbing over or under felled trees and pushing through huge spider webs. I felt like Indiana Jones.
Bizarrely, there was an abandoned tea shop at the top.
Nearby was a residence, believe it or not. When the owners dog started barking at me, the man came out and gave me a hard look, top to bottom. Then he started laughing. I must have been quite the sight.
Finally, I got to see what the view is like to the east of Koh Tao.
Waaay down there is Tanote Bay, my destination. I certainly wasn't going back the way I came. My only hope was to make it to Tanote somehow and maybe catch a taxi boat from there back to Sairee. Thankfully, the way down to Tanote was much easier going.
When I finally make it to Tanote beach, I threw my stuff down and marched right into the water. Aahhh...
Rested, refreshed and refueled, I treated myself to beer at a beachside bar, and chatted with some folks there: a pair from Alberta, Canada and two blokes from Philly. They said they had gotten there the long way 'round on their scooters, and that they could give me a lift back. Great!
I asked the bartender -- a local -- if he had ever walked over the pass. He raised his eyebrows. "Yes," he said, "once," and smiled.
The four were ready to go, so I got on the back of one girl's scooter. We skidded and sputtered and fishtailed uphill about 20 feet when I told her to stop. "Thanks, and no offense, but this isn't working with me on the back." She said she had been thinking the same, so I wished them all well and headed back to the shack.
There, the bartender told me there was a taxi. Not a boat but a car that left at set times. I killed a half-hour and then met up with the driver. The "taxi" was a big, hulking pick-up truck. I climbed in the back, along with two local Thai women. We took off like a shot.
We climbed impossibly steep, rutted, slippery hard-pack dirt roads strewn with boulders and debris. Up, up, up, in no time, we were bumping along this narrow, windy "road" 100's of feet above the water. Oh my god. What kept us from sliding off the side and pachinko-ing through the palm trees into the bay below, I'll never know. Even the local Thai women were pounding on the cab and yelling at the driver to slow down. No pictures. I was holding on with both hands.
I made it back to Sairee minus a few pounds and a few years of my life, with a new appreciation of all that this little island has to offer. Next time, I'll hire a boat.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
VoIP Confusion
It seems I still don't have this whole phone thing sorted yet. If someone can help me make sense of the following incident, I'd really appreciate it.
Cellphone Support Rep: Hello, you've reached <provider> support. How can I help you?
Me: Hi. There are some charges on my most recent bill I don't understand. The international roaming charges accrued on <day> -- amounting to nearly $100 -- are for calls I didn't make.
Rep: Oh, I'm sorry.
Me: I called previously about this and just got a follow-up email from support. They say the numbers are owned by Bandwidth.com and represent VoIP calls. I've never heard of Bandwidth.com and don't have an account with them. I use Skype from my computer when I want to make VoIP calls. I don't even have a VoIP app on my phone.
Rep: I see. I'll remove the charges immediately. We're very sorry.
Me: Thank you.
Rep: Is there anything else I can help you with?
Me: That's it. Thanks. <hangs up>
As soon as I hung up, I realized that I do have a VoIP application on my phone: Google Voice. After a little digging, I learned that Google Voice uses Bandwidth.com. And from my Google Voice history, I saw that <gasp> I did in fact make those calls. Whoops.
The calls, as they appeared on my cellphone statement, had different numbers than the ones I dialed, and they appeared to be to random locations like Florida and DC. So my confusion is understandable. Besides, isn't the whole point of VoIP to avoid being charged extortionate international voice roaming rates?
So, what went wrong here? I'm certain I had a wifi connection when I made these calls. And even if the calls had switched to the cell network, I have a data plan and this is IP traffic. It's not called Voice Over IP for nothing. This should be covered by my data plan, not my voice plan, right?
Right?
Cellphone Support Rep: Hello, you've reached <provider> support. How can I help you?
Me: Hi. There are some charges on my most recent bill I don't understand. The international roaming charges accrued on <day> -- amounting to nearly $100 -- are for calls I didn't make.
Rep: Oh, I'm sorry.
Me: I called previously about this and just got a follow-up email from support. They say the numbers are owned by Bandwidth.com and represent VoIP calls. I've never heard of Bandwidth.com and don't have an account with them. I use Skype from my computer when I want to make VoIP calls. I don't even have a VoIP app on my phone.
Rep: I see. I'll remove the charges immediately. We're very sorry.
Me: Thank you.
Rep: Is there anything else I can help you with?
Me: That's it. Thanks. <hangs up>
As soon as I hung up, I realized that I do have a VoIP application on my phone: Google Voice. After a little digging, I learned that Google Voice uses Bandwidth.com. And from my Google Voice history, I saw that <gasp> I did in fact make those calls. Whoops.
The calls, as they appeared on my cellphone statement, had different numbers than the ones I dialed, and they appeared to be to random locations like Florida and DC. So my confusion is understandable. Besides, isn't the whole point of VoIP to avoid being charged extortionate international voice roaming rates?
So, what went wrong here? I'm certain I had a wifi connection when I made these calls. And even if the calls had switched to the cell network, I have a data plan and this is IP traffic. It's not called Voice Over IP for nothing. This should be covered by my data plan, not my voice plan, right?
Right?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Koh Tao: Night and Day
I'm killing time in a coffee shop while the rain pours down. It's a good time to upload my backlog of photos and update my blog.
Nightlife
I spend my evenings walking the beach and watching the sun set from beachside bars. Fresh mango shakes and light lager beers beat the heat and humidity, which can be oppressive. On the sand, the locals pass the time playing games.
The locals are very athletic. Below, they're playing a game that's a cross between soccer and volleyball. Get the ball over the net without letting it touch your hands or the ground. They're very good. Flying high kicks over their heads present no difficulty.
After the sun goes down, many beach bars hire local fire jugglers to perform on the beach. They spin torches on the ends of chains, flinging them high into the air and catching them, all in beat to thumping DJ music. This guy took his show into the audience and, to laughs all around, spun his torches within inches of my face. I saw them through my closed eyelids, smelled the burning kerosine, and felt their heat as they whooshed past my face. "Don't flinch, don't flinch," I thought.
Lazy Days
Weekdays are for working, but weekends are mine, and I spend them wandering the island. It's small -- I could probably walk the whole thing in half a day, but I never make it that far. I inevitably find a pleasant beach and pass a few hours sitting under a palm tree or paddling in the shallow, warm waters. The tropical fish swim right up to you and give you a good looking over. The small ones nibble your toes.
Below is some resort in the southwest of the island. Fancy a dip in your own private pool in front of your bungalow on the bay?
Yesterday, I stumbled onto a remote southern beach, over which is perched the Banana Rock Bar. It's a surprisingly large, split level bar made mostly out of driftwood and old weathered planks. The walls are open and the roof is thatched. It juts over the rocks and the water, has a 180 degree view of the bay and faces the sunset. It took me 15 minutes of hiking along the coast from the nearest village to get there. The only other way in, as far as I could tell, is by water taxi. It's surrounded by rocks, palm trees, water, a few bungalows ... and nothing else.
The locals who work there seem to be as awed by the place as the visitors. The Thai who brought me my curry was rail thin and dark skinned. He had long hair, a wispy mustache, and unrestrained enthusiasm for Koh Tao. His home is on the mainland -- an ugly place, he says, where the air is fouled by scooter exhaust. "On Koh Tao ...," and here he takes a deep breath with arms outstretched, smiles broadly, looks out to sea and falls silent.
Nightlife
I spend my evenings walking the beach and watching the sun set from beachside bars. Fresh mango shakes and light lager beers beat the heat and humidity, which can be oppressive. On the sand, the locals pass the time playing games.
The locals are very athletic. Below, they're playing a game that's a cross between soccer and volleyball. Get the ball over the net without letting it touch your hands or the ground. They're very good. Flying high kicks over their heads present no difficulty.
After the sun goes down, many beach bars hire local fire jugglers to perform on the beach. They spin torches on the ends of chains, flinging them high into the air and catching them, all in beat to thumping DJ music. This guy took his show into the audience and, to laughs all around, spun his torches within inches of my face. I saw them through my closed eyelids, smelled the burning kerosine, and felt their heat as they whooshed past my face. "Don't flinch, don't flinch," I thought.
Lazy Days
Weekdays are for working, but weekends are mine, and I spend them wandering the island. It's small -- I could probably walk the whole thing in half a day, but I never make it that far. I inevitably find a pleasant beach and pass a few hours sitting under a palm tree or paddling in the shallow, warm waters. The tropical fish swim right up to you and give you a good looking over. The small ones nibble your toes.
Below is some resort in the southwest of the island. Fancy a dip in your own private pool in front of your bungalow on the bay?
Yesterday, I stumbled onto a remote southern beach, over which is perched the Banana Rock Bar. It's a surprisingly large, split level bar made mostly out of driftwood and old weathered planks. The walls are open and the roof is thatched. It juts over the rocks and the water, has a 180 degree view of the bay and faces the sunset. It took me 15 minutes of hiking along the coast from the nearest village to get there. The only other way in, as far as I could tell, is by water taxi. It's surrounded by rocks, palm trees, water, a few bungalows ... and nothing else.
The locals who work there seem to be as awed by the place as the visitors. The Thai who brought me my curry was rail thin and dark skinned. He had long hair, a wispy mustache, and unrestrained enthusiasm for Koh Tao. His home is on the mainland -- an ugly place, he says, where the air is fouled by scooter exhaust. "On Koh Tao ...," and here he takes a deep breath with arms outstretched, smiles broadly, looks out to sea and falls silent.
Friday, April 8, 2011
1 Reason to Stop Dreaming and Start Planning Your Round the World Trip
Back when I was still living in Seattle dreaming about travel, I signed up for a bunch of travel-related newsletters, so messages like this one from Bootsnall.com would regularly land in my Inbox:
11 Reasons to Stop Dreaming and Start Planning Your Round the World Trip
Every time I got one, a voice in my head would say, "Dammit, why am I still just dreaming? <sigh>"
And going further back, about 10 years ago in a fit of premature travel-lust I went to REI and bought a serious backpack. You know, the kind for world-travelers and backpackers. It sat in the bottom of my closet for years unused and unsullied, silently taunting me every time I opened the closet: "Let's go already!"
Now, my backpack is showing serious signs of wear (yay!) and I'm in Thailand enjoying views like this:
The best part of traveling for me? The one reason that matters above all others?
I've finally silenced that little voice in my head.
Now when I see posts like, "The 11 Reasons to Blah, Blah, Blah," I can just smile. Maybe some people need 11 reasons. I needed just that one.
11 Reasons to Stop Dreaming and Start Planning Your Round the World Trip
Every time I got one, a voice in my head would say, "Dammit, why am I still just dreaming? <sigh>"
And going further back, about 10 years ago in a fit of premature travel-lust I went to REI and bought a serious backpack. You know, the kind for world-travelers and backpackers. It sat in the bottom of my closet for years unused and unsullied, silently taunting me every time I opened the closet: "Let's go already!"
Now, my backpack is showing serious signs of wear (yay!) and I'm in Thailand enjoying views like this:
The best part of traveling for me? The one reason that matters above all others?
I've finally silenced that little voice in my head.
Now when I see posts like, "The 11 Reasons to Blah, Blah, Blah," I can just smile. Maybe some people need 11 reasons. I needed just that one.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Koh Tao: Not Sucking
Me: I'd like to buy a ticket to Chumphon.
Ticket Agent: Oh, no. Flooding. Very bad.
M: I know. It's not that bad. I have a ferry ticket to Koh Tao and I need to get to Chumphon.
TA: Koh Tao! Very bad. Don't go.
M: Please just sell me the ticket.
TA: ...
M: ...
TA: OK. But if you die not my fault.
Yes, she really said that I would die. Want to see what she was so afraid of? Brace yourself....
It's pretty horrible, I know. Regrets about coming? Lots. For instance: why didn't I come here two years ago?
Do your homework. Then feel free to ignore the people who tell you that you can't do something. They just don't don't want you to have more fun than they're having.
Hey, ticket agent lady! Nya, nya! <pbbbttthhhh!!!>
Ticket Agent: Oh, no. Flooding. Very bad.
M: I know. It's not that bad. I have a ferry ticket to Koh Tao and I need to get to Chumphon.
TA: Koh Tao! Very bad. Don't go.
M: Please just sell me the ticket.
TA: ...
M: ...
TA: OK. But if you die not my fault.
Yes, she really said that I would die. Want to see what she was so afraid of? Brace yourself....
It's pretty horrible, I know. Regrets about coming? Lots. For instance: why didn't I come here two years ago?
Do your homework. Then feel free to ignore the people who tell you that you can't do something. They just don't don't want you to have more fun than they're having.
Hey, ticket agent lady! Nya, nya! <pbbbttthhhh!!!>
Friday, April 1, 2011
Koh Tao Update: Keep Hope Alive
Note: This post is an update to the previous.
Meet the new plan. Same as the old plan. That's the short of it. Keep reading for details...
Have I mentioned that CouchSurfing.org rocks? In the depths of despair, I checked the Thailand message board and found a recent message from a Koh Tao resident assuring everybody that Koh Tao was Just Fine, Thankyouverymuch. Huh.
Then, I had the good fortune yesterday to meet a nice German who DJ's on the islands frequently. When I asked him about Koh Tao, he also told me that the island was fine now. Huh. (He also convinced me that Koh Phangan, the next island south, would be a better fit for me since I don't dive.)
So right now, I'm having a coffee at Hua Lamphong Train Station in Bangkok. I came here to talk to travel agents, learn more about the situation in Koh Tao and my transportation options. Here's what I've learned:
1. Koh Tao is NOT a disaster area (though Koh Samui and Koh Phangan are still recovering).
2. Reduced train service to Chumphon has been restored.
3. Ferries from Chumphon to Koh Tao are running again.
So, if I were so inclined, I could leave on a very late train tonight and be in Koh Tao this time tomorrow.
Instead, I'll wait in Bangkok one more day for my health to improve (I'm already much better) and see if they don't add more trains. Ideally, I'd catch the 7:30pm train tomorrow, which would allow me to take the early morning ferry on Monday. The beach beckons!
I plan to hang out on Koh Tao until Koh Phangan is fully recovered from the storm. Then I'll move over there, rent a bungalow and drop off the face.
I'm hoping for the best. And bringing my rain gear. Wish me luck.
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