We went a little bit local today, renting bicycles for the day to get around Hoi An. A dollar doesn’t get you the sweetest ride out there, but the terrain is pretty flat so its not too bad. The biggest drawback is they are made Vietnamese size, so our legs are a little packed up, kind of like riding a bike in the circus. It definitely speeds things up though and the plan is to cover a fair amount of ground today.

Our first destination is China Beach, before the day gets too hot and also while there is still some blue in the sky (the forecast calls for rain). The ride ends up being about 10 km, which is further than our guide book says, but it gives us a good opportunity to get used to fitting into traffic where things are as busy. The general philosophy of just going where you want but doing it with conviction seems to hold as true for bicycles as it does for pedestrians, so we get the hang of it fairly quickly.

The beach itself is amazing. It is wide, white sand, and goes on for miles in either direction. There aren’t many beach hotels in Hoi An, so for the most part, the place is pretty deserted. There are a handful of restaurants, and the touts come flying across the beach like guided missiles as soon as they see you coming. There are also the obligatory trinket merchants, covered from head to toe to keep their skin from getting dark, even though it is over 90 degrees. We pick up one small gift and then pack up to head back to town.

Given that we are a little more mobile, we get away from the main tourist part of town and bike into some of the residential neighborhoods. On streets full of stores and restaurants, its sometimes easy to forget how much poorer countries like this are than our own, but seeing where they live reinforces how good we have it. Despite all that, the people always appear happy, with the little kids screaming hello and waving whenever we ride by.

Today is the start of the big national holiday, and as we return to town, we find it is much more crowded than yesterday. Fortunately, I have a cool bell on my handlebars so I can let people know they best get out of my way (in their wise judgement, the rental folks apparently determined Ang wasn’t worthy of this responsibility as she has no such bell), particularly around lunch and dinner time when we set out for our favorite restaurant.

Otherwise, it was a pretty uneventful day here. The rains came off and on, so we were able to break for a few hours in the afternoon, and then finish up finding a few final items at the market. If the weather is okay tomorrow (the forecast doesn’t look promising once again), we plan on driving out to see the ruins at My Son before going to the airport for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). We’ll be thankful to finish up our last domestic flight as we have accumulated a fair amount of luggage the past weeks.

We’re on the move pretty much every other day now, so nothing out of the ordinary to be up early for some more travel. The hotel we’re staying at in Hue doesn’t exactly meet Westin standards, but for $40, its quite nice and includes breakfast. This is the high point because it includes all the Wagon Wheels you can eat. For non-Canadians, these are like Moonpies in the US, and were the high point of any brown bag lunch in elementary school. I haven’t seen a Wagon Wheel in twenty years, so its hard to resist one now.

We leave Hue around 8:30 in transportation much more comfortable than the Halong Bay bus. We’re getting a little smarter ever year we come here, and this time, instead of just reserving a car, we also had them show us the actual one we would be riding in. The certainty cost an extra five dollars, but seemed worth it to not have a rusted out old pick up with chickens in the back pull up to the front door.

The drive from Hue to Hoi An takes about four hours (there is a shorter route, but we opt to go over the mountains and along the coast) through scenery far closer to what I had in mind of Vietnam before I got here. There are plenty of rice paddies and the occasional small village that, so far, hasn’t been overrun with new construction. Compared to Hanoi and Hue, its like stepping back in time, and even Lionel Richie signing Hello on the car stereo seems a little avant-garde.

As we near Hoi An, we pass through Da Nang and can see first hand how popular Vietnam is becoming as a tourist destination. Da Nang sits on part of the 20 mile long China Beach and is being heavily developed as a world-class resort. In one continuous strip, we see six mega-hotels going up including a Hyatt, a Crowne Plaza, and a Raffles. The economy has likely slowed things down a bit, but clearly Vietnam ten years from now will be quite a bit different than it is today.

In Hoi An, we found a hotel that is right on the river across from the Old Quarter. If we do decide to check out the beach, it is about 3 km away on a shuttle bus, but with overcast skies and periodic rain, that doesn’t look promising. The Old Town is what we’ve come to see anyway, as anyone who has recommended Hoi An says it is the place to be. In many respects, it is like the street we stayed on in Hue, but goes on for blocks in every direction. Most of the streets are closed to cars and motorbikes, which makes it that much more pleasant to walk around.

As we wander through the market, we are approached by young girl who speaks reasonably good english and asks us to come and see her mother’s clothing shop, where, of course, they have “very good prices”. Of course this is a scam, but my big-hearted traveling companion soon has us engaged in conversation with her and her friend, who surprisingly also has a shop, where they do foot massage. Now, I figured we learned our lesson in about massages in Hanoi, but apparently not, as soon we are weaving through the market stalls, headed for Dao’s place.

The good news is that when we arrive, the place is very open air, so likely not a “special menu” kind of outfit. The bad news, is that it’s actually just a 6′ x 6′ stall in the market where they normally sell silk scarves, but clear some space to put down a small plastic chair and stool for massage customers. Trying to repay the kindness Ang showed me with the smoothie, I offer to pass on this one and just let her treat herself, but she talks me into staying so they shuffle a few more things and squeeze in another chair.

Something about this whole setup rubs one of the nearby vendors the wrong way, as she goes off on a tirade, screaming in Vietnamese while doing laps around our small section of the market. The space in front of our stall quickly fills up with other vendors who have come to see the two, big pasty tourists crammed into this tiny space (I can’t even straighten my leg out) who have caused such a fuss. Without understanding a word of why or how, we find ourselves in the middle of an international incident, but emerging unscathed (and with happier feet), we move on in search of dinner.

In general, the food in Vietnam has been good, but it was definitely one of the things I was looking forward to when we came here, so felt a little let down that it wasn’t great (the food on the boat being the exception). In Hoi An though, we hit the mother lode. Our lunch was so good that, after looking at a few other restaurants, we decide there’s no point risking it, and go back again for dinner. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, but I’m guessing this won’t be the last time earlier.

With the early start, it’s been a fairly long day, so we head back to the hotel, where hopefully we’ll get some internet to check email and catch up on a bit of work. We are keeping our fingers crossed that things will clear up tomorrow since our time is short here and still a few things we’d like to see.

Since I left our arrival in Hue out of yesterday’s post, let me start there. The city (at least the part where we are staying) is pretty much everything Hanoi was not – namely quiet, and not very crowded. As we arrived quite late, we stay fairly close to the hotel, but the streets are full of stores and restaurants, and we can pretty much walk wherever we want since motorbikes and cars are few and far between. We find a good Indian restaurant just a few doors down, so have a nice dinner there before turning in for the night.

Today is the only actual day that we have set aside to see Hue. From all we have been able to gather from those that have been here before us, it is a very nice city, but with only a few must do items. Given that, we plan on cramming as much as we can into about 12 hours, and then hit the road again tomorrow to Hoi An.

Like Hanoi, there are cyclos everywhere, and we decide to take a driver (two actually, as while the seats may accommodate two Vietnamese, they only hold one North American) up on his offer to pedal us around for 5 hours for the princely sum of $5. It turns out to be a pretty comfortable way to travel and let’s us cover ground quite a bit quicker than we could on foot. Knowing how the kids like to ride bikes, I get the mental image of them taking me to work while I read the paper. Can’t imagine why they would object.

Hue is the old capital from when Emperors still ruled Vietnam, and from that time, the most notable sight is the Citadel – the walled compound where the Emperor and his court lived. Most of it is gone now, due in large part to bombing from the Vietnam War (or the American War as they refer to it here), but work is underway to rebuild it. Based on the number of workers on site, less those that were laying down sleeping, the project looks to be on schedule for completion in about 400 years.

We also see one of the old Pagodas on the edge of town and spend a little time at the central market. Both are good, but after 4 years of traveling to Asia, we find one temple blurring into the next and the cramped stalls of hanging carcasses less and less novel. The lady cutting her toenails right next to the food she was selling was a bit of a new twist though.

By the end of the “tour” we are pretty beat, so head back to the hotel for a break. We forgot the sunscreen in the morning, so a paying the price a little for that. It was mostly overcast, but the sun poked through enough to burn my nose, and I look a little like Toucan Sam as a result.

Once things cooled off a bit, we headed back out for a walk and to find some street snacks. The fruit smoothie stand seemed promising, so we pointed at a few things that looked good and let them go to work. The recipe looked pretty simple, as everything we picked just went into a dirty blender. To that, they added a shot of water from an old Tupperware jug. Ang’s eyes grew two sizes at that, so when they asked about ice, she tried to wave them off. But you can’t get a little a bit pregnant, and since the water was already in, the ice wasn’t going to do any more damage. All this they pour into a plastic bag and snap a rubber band around the top to keep it shut.

On an unrelated note, Ang is learning to be a really good sharer this trip, and she let me drink most of the smoothie.

The one stop we didn’t get to make was the royal tombs outside of town. If we had one more day here, there is a boat you can take down the river to see them. But we’re a little too beat to try and cram such a trip into the late afternoon, so add it to the list of things to see if our travels bring us this way again. Same for the DMZ and Khe Sanh, which are about an hour out of town.

We make arrangements through our hotel for a car to take us to Hoi An in the morning (a three hour drive or so), and head off for dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant across the street. We’re definitely in the home stretch now, and in many ways, Sunday is coming much too quickly (although we are both very anxious to see the boys).

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Well, that may be overstating it just a little, but like all good dichotomies – yin and yang, good and evil, East Coast rap and West Coast rap – today was a day of juxtapositions (and big words it seems). It started off much as yesterday ended, comfortably laid out on the deck of the White Dolphin without a soul around to ruin the moment.

Our crew has grown by one, as late in the evening a small group of staff from a nearby boat came on board for some drinks, leaving behind a young lady when they returned. We speculate that she is the girlfriend of one of the crew on our boat dropping in for a little late night bible reading, but we never find out for sure. Nevertheless, she is still with us when I wake up and has put together a table full of overpriced souvenirs, anxiously awaiting my trusty sidekick (who, to her credit, doesn’t buy a single thing). A short time later, another boat from the same company rafts onto ours, and just like that, our new crew member is gone.

In the exchange, we do get one of our burning questions answered, as the family on the second boat is from Australia, and, as it turns out, they have been talking about their next vacation being to Mexico. Go figure. The rest of the morning we spend slowly cruising back to port, enjoying the solitude and adding yet more pictures to our collection (I think we have taken more photos in the last two days that we did in the preceding two weeks), including Ang’s best impression of Kate Winslet.

We finish our boat trip with a nice lunch (fresh seafood for the most part, which is great for me, not so good for Ang) before dropping anchor back at port.

Fast forward 30 minutes, and we find ourselves crammed back into the minibus for the return drive to Hanoi, this time so full the luggage is wedged in every open pocket to get it all in. Our flight to Hue leaves a 5:45, so we have quickly shifted from a state of total relaxation, to one of anxiety, wondering if we will make it to the airport on time. Assuming we don’t go any slower than we did on the inbound trip, we will be cutting it close, but should make it. That knowledge does little to keep me from wanting to grab the wheel every time the driver falls in behind a dump truck going 30 km/h.

The drive itself is pretty uninspiring. Once out of the big cities, I expected to see lush countryside, with acres of rice paddies, like we have in Thailand and Indonesia. At least between Hanoi and Halong Bay though, it is mostly just a series of buildings, fairly equally split between residential, commercial and industrial. They hug the road, rarely more than a few layers deep, rather than clustered together in villages and towns. It’s interesting to see the style of construction, but all in all, it makes for a pretty dull landscape, adding to the monotony of the trip.

The good news is that we do make better time, and a little under four hours later, we are scrambling to unload our bags from the bus and into a cab for the drive to the airport. As we get to the outskirts of Hanoi, we finally start to breathe a bit easier, comfortable that we’ll make our flight to Hue and the next stop on our journey (and since talking about it here would be three cities, ruining my clever title, I will leave it until tomorrow).

The wake up call comes pretty early this morning, so much so that I contemplate ordering a coffee at breakfast (and I never drink coffee). While this is mostly because I am having trouble keeping my eyelids open, I have also read that the Vietnamese make a mean coffee. I manage to make it through without though, and am even on time for our bus pick up. Unable to think of many things better than being in a van full of people I don’t know, I am looking forward to the next four and a half hours.

It is the slow season right now at Halong Bay, but even so, the harbor is full of boats, all built to look like Chinese junks. We know that none of the people we rode up with are on our boat, but we are very surprised when we board to find out that we are the only passengers. In seems the travel gods are one again out to spite me, as this will only make it more difficult in the future to get Ang on a regular boat.

The White Dolphin is about 80 feet long, with a crew of 5. They say that the boat is new, but in practice I think that just means some new cabins built on an old hull. Either way, it is still pretty luxe accommodation for what we paid (about $120 each for two days, four meals, transportation, and entry to the two islands we will stop off on). The room is air conditioned, with its own bathroom (not that it really matters in retrospect since there is no one else here), hot water shower and two-person jacuzzi tub. It’s as over the top as anything we have experienced (total boondoggle), and its hard not to reflect a bit on just how lucky we are in life.

We have lunch (a five course affair) on the way to our first stop, which is a huge cave carved out of one of the limestone islands that populate the bay (the thousands of small islands are what Halong Bay is famous for and the scenery is unlike anything we have ever seen). The air in the harbor is pretty smoggy, but gets clearer the further we get into the bay. Even so, visibility is never great, and we feel like we are missing some of the experience that you would get on a clear day. We have taken dozens of pictures, knowing that when we get home and look through them we’ll wonder why since they won’t possibly do them justice.

The cave is fairly interesting, in large part because it is so massive. There are all kinds of stalactites and stalagmites, which have been enhanced with the placement of different colored spotlights (it sounds pretty cheesy, but in practice seems to work). The guide points out all kinds of formations they have named for things they resemble like dragons and buddhas, and this adds a bit of extra flavor, but the experience would be just just as impressive without them.

We make a second stop on a nearby island where you can climb to the top for a view that on a clear day would be spectacular. It’s still pretty good today so another dozen or so photos get added to the collection. Afterwards, the boat sets anchor and we swim around a bit in the ocean while the cook prepares dinner (six courses this time, with much of the food bought fresh from the armada of small rowboats circling the bay selling all manner of things).

As night falls, the sea gets very calm and we can see the lights of all the nearby boats. It is a very relaxing setting, and its hard not to just melt into a deck chair and watch the world go by.

Our last day in Hanoi and we’re off to a little less than auspicious start. In general, we’ve been quite good about getting out of the hotel room in the morning, but today it just wasn’t meant to be. By the time we talked to the kids, booked some airline tickets to Hue, and got ready, it was quickly creeping up on 11 o’clock. We argue a bit with the front desk since we have prepaid for breakfast, but they close the restaurant at 10:30 to change over for lunch and say they can’t cook us anything. By the time we give up and grab a cab, it is close to 11:30.

By starting late, we skip seeing Ho Chi Minh, as you have to be there by ten to get in. Since we also missed Mao Tse Tung in China, we are quickly running out of waxy, dead people to look at. Lenin is another possibility I suppose, but no plans to travel to Russia any time soon.

Instead we head back to the Old Quarter to look at a few of the paintings we saw yesterday. We’ve narrowed the list of favorites to just 3 or 4, but unfortunately, they are at three different galleries, so hard to compare. We also stop to buy a couple of knock-off backpacks (either that, or North Face is having a really big sale in Vietnam), for some unknown reason choosing to do this early in the day instead of on the way back to the hotel, ensuring that for the rest of the afternoon I have to walk around with a big empty pack on my back.

The other big mission for the day is to book our trip to Halong Bay and figure out how were going to get to Saigon in time for our return flight. There are literally dozens of travel agencies, and each seems to have its own mix of boats they represent, making it difficult to determine which is the right choice. This process we drag out until after 8 in the evening, finally settling on a 2 day, 1 night trip on what they call a 4 star boat (I let Ang flip a coin between that and a cheaper 3 star boat, and while she denies it, the “toss” looked more like a flop, with the outcome somewhat predetermined). In practice though, it actually works out better, as we get back to Hanoi a little bit earlier and are already cutting it very close for our flight to Hue.

We also have the same agent book some tickets from Da Nang to Saigon, as we are a little nervous that if we wait any longer, we won’t be able to get any at all. Unfortunately, the only ones we can get are on the night of the 1st, so it turns out we will be spending a few days in Saigon, where the original plan was just to fly in the same day our flight left to Vancouver. It also means a little less time than we hoped for in Hoi An, but I think there will still be enough to see what we wanted to see (albeit in a bit more rushed fashion).

With all the planning out of the way, we resign ourselves to the fact that it’s too late to really see the French Quarter, so skip that and head back to the last gallery to buy our picture. That mission accomplished, our day is pretty much complete, so we grab a couple of gyro/french bread sandwiches and head back to the hotel. Our bus to Halong Bay is picking us up at 7:45 in the morning, so definitely no sleeping in tomorrow.

For us, Hanoi is like a splash of very cold water in the face. The time in Bali/Lombok was so laid back that we kind of slipped into a bit of lazy island lifestyle. This is MUCH different. The city is hectic, noisy, and constantly on the move.

Because we only have two days here, I am anxious to get out the door fairly early, much to Ang’s chagrin. She is a good sport today though, so we actually headed out at a pretty reasonable hour, with the goal of stopping at the gallery our hotel told us about, and then just wandering around the Old Quarter of the city.

The Old Quarter is the original heart of Hanoi, dating back over 1,000 years, and is still the center of activity for shops, markets, and restaurants. The layout has no rhyme nor reason, so we spend most of the morning weaving around the warren of streets, getting lost once or twice, but not too far off the beaten path, and I find that whenever I stop for a beer at a sidewalk cafe, it does wonders for my map reading skills.

The other challenge that took a little getting used to is simply crossing the street. There are very few traffic lights here and traffic itself is a constantly flowing mass of motorbikes and cyclos (bicycles with a seat in front of the tire that serve as short distance taxis), so waiting for a clear spot to cross is basically pointless. Instead, we learn from watching the locals that the trick is too just start walking, and as long as you keep a consistent pace, the drivers will adjust and part around you like the Red Sea.

In between shops and galleries, we sample a wide range of different street foods. Some we recognize, like Pho, spring rolls and doughnuts, but a whole lot we don’t. Fortunately, even the strange looking ones don’t taste that bad, and by the end of the day we’re still going strong, so nothing seemed to make us sick. There is a local beer we have read about that sells for about 15 cents a glass (it is unpasteurized and only lasts a day so they price it low to make sure it sells out) that seems like it would make a good pairing for a skewer of unknown meat, but so far I haven’t found a good place to try it yet.

Towards dinner the heat and noise are starting to wear down my trusty sidekick, who is looking for the first opportunity to get back to the solitude of the Sheraton. As I wanted to see the night market before calling it a day, I bribe her with promise of a foot massage. This turns out to be easier said than done, as unlike Thailand or Indonesia, finding a massage place actually proves very difficult. We finally find a hotel that advertises a spa on the second floor, so pop in there and settle in for some pampering.

What we end up with is easily the world’s worst massage. The two ladies show up in very short skirts, and while this doesn’t really bother me, we start to wonder if this might be one of those other kinds of massage parlors. Our suspicions are only heightened when a foot massage really turns out to be a “dealer’s choice”, with some rubbing of the feet, a lot of work on the knee, a bit of arm and hand, and finally some face for good measure. It seems that when we didn’t start the session asking for the “specy specy” menu, they didn’t really know what to do, so ended up throwing together whatever came to mind and running out the clock.

By the end of the hour, my “masseuse” is behind me in the chair with my head laid back against her chest, rubbing my head and shoulders. I struggle to remember the last time I was in a similar position, but figure it must have been somewhere like Las Vegas, and probably cost a whole lot more than $7. As strange as it seems, my description here only scratches the surface, so for anyone interested, feel free to ask about the Frank Costanza, the dry rub, or the Chinese noodle when we get back.

Back out on the street, and desperately digging through our bag for the Purell, we find the night market open and wander a bit through the stalls. We also find a few new foods to try, including a great sandwich they make with a small loaf of french bread and gyro meat. At about 70 cents each, they prove to be one of our favorite finds.

By 10pm, we are pretty beat, so finally call it a day and jump in a cab back to the hotel. Tomorrow we have no specific plans, but have talked about stopping into see the preserved body of Ho Chi Minh and visiting the French Quarter. We also need to make some travel plans for Halong Bay and also flights to Da Nang and Saigon. We have come to learn that next Friday is the start of a very big national holiday, so most flights are already booked. Since we fly out of Saigon, its not really optional that we get there, meaning the only question is whether we can scrounge up a flight or get stuck with 30 hours on the chicken bus.

Adventure often comes in the most unexpected places. For the most part, we figured today would be pretty mild as our flight from Lombok leaves at 9 am, and with a few transfers in between, we don’t get to Hanoi until after 8 pm. But boy, were we in for a treat.

Now Indonesia isn’t widely known for the quality of its air service. If fact, I think the general consensus is that its downright suspect. So much so, that in an attempt to try and add some level of safety, the government recently announced it was shutting down all airlines with less than 5 airplanes, presumably because if you have that many planes, you probably can afford to keep a mechanic on staff. Given all that, we weren’t exactly expecting a plane fresh off the line at Boeing.

What we didn’t expect was the dilapidated POS that we boarded for the short flight back to Bali. Over the years I’ve been in some pretty beat up planes, but nowhere have I seen as much duct tape on display as this one. It looked like they took all the pieces they could recover from the last two planes they crashed, and taped them back together into one working model. As we lifted off, I found myself praying that an Indonesian Sully was on the other side of the cockpit door.

The concern was for naught though, as twenty minutes later, we made three quick right turns (I think the rudder only went one direction, so that was the next best thing to turning left) and set down softly on the runway. We did get a little nervous that someone forgot to tape the cargo door shut as it took an unusually long time for our luggage to appear, but eventually it made its way out and we headed off to the international terminal for our next leg to Singapore. From here on, its all legitimate airlines, so other than the usual airport hassles, its smooth sailing to Hanoi.

We finally arrive just after 8:30 (it is one hour earlier here than Bali), clear immigration and grab a cab to, you guessed it, the Sheraton. The cab driver seems to know only two phrases in english, “fifteen dollars” and “Michael Schumacher”. True to his word, we weave through traffic, flashing the high beams and honking the horn at anyone foolish enough to get in our way.

Checking in, we notice, hanging behind the counter, a picture by an artist we had seen a few years back in a Bangkok gallery, but didn’t buy at the time. They gave us the name and address of the gallery here that has them, so that’s something early on our agenda for tomorrow. Just a couple days in Hanoi and plenty to see, so no rest for the weary.

Imagine yourself on a sandy beach, lined with palm trees and gentle surf. What would you think if the people who lived there told you that if you wanted a real beach vacation, you were in the wrong place? Too much time in the sun perhaps? Well, that’s what we’ve been told here, with the place that is always recommended being the Gilis, a set of three small islands a little to the northwest of here. Having come all this way, we’re intrigued enough to have to see it for ourselves.

We catch our boat right out front of the hotel. In all our travel, I would have sworn Ang had experienced some ocean travel in a rickety fishing boat, but she tells me today is the first time, so props to her for being a trooper (I think there were only lifejackets enough for me and the skipper, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that).

Our first stop is Gili Trawangan, which of the three has a reputation as the “party island”. What we find is a beautiful white sand beach fronting a one street town on an island where cars and motorbikes are prohibited (not exactly Mykonos). Aside from the boats that get you there, the only methods of transport are carts pulled by half-size horses and bicycles, which makes for a very peaceful setting.

After a quick walk through the town, and a little due diligence into hotels should we ever come back, we spend an hour or so snorkeling over the reef. We don’t have any diving in the plans for this trip, so this is as close as we’ll get, and all in all, it isn’t that bad. Nothing big like turtles or rays, but the coral is in good shape and there are plenty of fish. It made me think of Nick and how much he enjoyed sleeping under the dome at the aquarium.

Jumping back in the boat, we take a 10 minute trip over to Gili Meno, the most mellow of the three islands. Just when we’re wondering how you get more mellow than an island populated with horse carts, we step off the boat and into a total Robinson Crusoe experience. Where Gili Trawangan has a street with some shops, Gili Meno has none of that. If you look hard, you can find a bit of a cart trail (this may be the literal one horse town, as I never did see more one), but for the most part, it is nothing more than the odd hut masquerading as a hotel and restaurant.

If you’re ever looking for a place to completely check out, this is it. As relaxed as I figured I was yesterday, I had to shift down and find a new gear for this. Stretched out in the bale (an Indonesian gazebo of sorts) watching the waves and listening to the reggae mix on the bar stereo, I quickly find myself just a few degrees north of comatose. I overhear a waiter say the cost of a room is 100,000 rupiah (about 9 dollars) and can’t help but do the math in my head for how long I could stay here and do nothing until the money runs out.

We do some snorkeling here as well, and then back in the boat for the return trip to the hotel. It turns out that its Ang’s turn for some lobster skin today, so as least we both look ridiculous now.

Tonight is our last night in Indonesia, as tomorrow is pretty much a full day of travel to our next stop in Vietnam. We have had an absolutely wonderful time here, and will take away many great memories (with the falling tiles in the Diggler Room right near the top). We knew early on that our plan to see three countries was too ambitious, and as we get ready to leave Bali/Lombok, we would probably say now that even two was too many. After all, we’ve only seen two of the countless islands in Indonesia, and only part of each at that.

Total veg day today. I was tempted to skip the post altogether, but figured that kind of behavior could quickly become a habit. So even though I’m a little thin on material, I’ll try and keep it interesting.

With nothing on the itinerary, we made the most of the day by going our separate ways, giving Ang the golden opportunity she has been waiting for to browse endlessly through the warren of knick-knack and souvenir shops. I stuck to the lounger on the beach and managed to work my way through a novel that had been taking up space in our luggage since Seattle.

Coming from a place that rarely gets sun, I learn the hard way about reflection, and despite keeping religiously under the umbrella, by the time Ang returns a few hours later, I have managed to work up a little lobster skin. Fortunately, it is more on the medium side than well done, so I think I will avoid molting.

Our Internet was good today for a change, so we were able to talk to the boys with the video working, and it was great to see their faces. They all have stories about the fun things they are doing with their grandparents and friends, so we know they are in goods hands. Tomorrow is a the big switch for them, with Granny and Grandpa headed back to Sidney, and Grandpa J and Grandma Katie moving in. The transition is good I think, since its hard for one set to spoil them continuously for three weeks, so this way they get full coverage.

The best part of the day comes at 6:30, as that means its time for pancakes. Lacking any better ideas, we call our driver from yesterday and ask him to go all the way to town and pick up 4 of the decadent creations. Even I can’t eat that many in a day, but in Malaysia they made a perfect breakfast even cold, so there is a method to my madness. The driver I’m sure thinks we’re insane, but I believe we told him we were American instead of Canadian, so he’ll probably just chalk it up to the that

A bit of a splurge tonight, as after another glorious $3 dinner from the pickup truck cafe, we struggled through an hour and 45 minute massage at the hotel spa. Ang was in heaven, being right next to the ocean. And while I have to admit it was a pretty good way to spend an evening, I think for the money, I’d take 10 massages of the hotel grounds instead of one on.

More to report tomorrow as we’re taking a boat to the Gili Islands, which apparently are THE place to go for a beach vacation on Lombok.