Walk slowly into oncoming traffic

I arrived in Vietnam in a sweat.

I made my flight, though I still don't know how, after having run through two sets of customs, criss-crossing the Kuala Lumpur (KL) airport numerous times, trying to check into my flight in less than an hour. Oh, the joys of international budget travel.

Once I arrived in Hanoi and got through the slightly extensive security checks, I grabbed my bag and headed over to the ATM to get some cash for the cab ride into the city. While there, I helped a fellow backpacker figure out the exchange rate, and we ended up sharing a cab from the airport. (This, the day after I saw a movie about a girl sold into a prostitution ring by doing the exact same thing! What was I thinking??) Luckily, my life is not an action film, and my new Aussie friend and I have been traveling together ever since. Much cheaper to go as a pair than to go it alone, we decided.

Hanoi is the craziest place in the world to cross the street. You can always tell who has just arrived in town, as they rush right out into the thick motorbike traffic, then stop about a quarter of the way through and run back to the nonexistent sidewalk. Once they've regathered their courage, they venture out in the road again, faces pale, stopping suddenly in front of multiple motorbikes, then making a mad dash for the other side, narrowly missing being hit. Did I mention that crosswalks are only a suggestions here? As are red lights.



There's a trick, you see, that can only be learned by watching the locals cross the street. You must walk out slowly, facing the oncoming horns and lights. Continue walking at the same pace, and try to make eye contact with anyone you can. This way, the drivers can judge your speed and neatly and easily steer around you. It really is as simple as that. Of course, it can be quite hard to remember with hundreds of motorbikes careening past.

Hanoi is a city of street stalls, home-brewed local beer, beautiful architecture and very friendly people. The tastiest food can always be found in the street, as can the cheapest beer and the best entertainment (see paragraph above about watching newcomers cross the road). I tasted tons of classic Vietnamese fare, ranging from pho bo (rice noodle soup with bean sprouts, beef and fresh herbs) to steamed snails on the street, and it was all fabulous. I think the elderly Vietnamese woman sitting next to me while I was eating the snails was especially pleased with my choice. She knocked back two entire bowls of the stuff, while continually urging me with hand signals to eat more and more. What a treat.



Probably my favorite food discovery in Hanoi came care of my father and older sister and a restaurant called Little Hanoi 1. Featured in the Lonely Planet guidebook, and therefore frequented by practically every Western visitor to Hanoi, this place has what may be a perfect meal (and great date idea, people!): Roll-your-own fresh spring rolls.

Made with fresh or dried rice paper rounds, inside, you layer fresh rice noodles, the protein of your choice--crispy fish and caramel beef were our choices--slices of pineapple, bean sprouts, mint, basil and lettuce at the bottom of the rice paper. Roll them up in a round (sort of like a tortilla), dip them in a fish sauce mixture and enjoy a little slice of heaven. Oh, and if you couldn't tell already, they're also incredibly healthy. So eat up!

I promise to post a more detailed info on the fish and beef later, but the above guidelines should be more than enough for you to have a go.

A moveable feast

When last we met, I was being eaten alive by mosquitos in the jungles of Borneo. Not the best place to leave off, I admit. I returned to a form of civilization soon after by spending a few days in Jakarta with my sister Jenny and her friend Pauline. These few days were chock-full of delicious food, thanks to their recommendations.

My two favorite restaurants were of the Italian and French variety. We visited the Italian star, Trattoria, twice in as many days. Like I said, we ate well. This restaurant starts you off right immediately, by handing over a basket full of hot crispy breadsticks and mini focaccia rounds. By the time we had ordered our dinner (and lunch, the second go-round), we were on our second basket. Hot, homemade bread fresh from the oven is truly one of my weaknesses.

The first time I ate at Trattoria, I shared a delicious and utterly simple salad: arugula with shaved pecorino romano, sliced pears and not nearly enough toasted pinenuts. Topped with a liberal amount of balsamic vineagar and olive oil and it was perfection.

Can I just stop a moment and thank every single restaurant that takes the time and effort to toast their nuts before adding them to salads, pastas, what have you? Because it makes ALL the difference in the world. Don't believe me? I dare you to try it and go back to untoasted nuts afterward. In fact, I triple dog dare you. You won't regret it, I promise.

The rest of my first meal at Trattoria was wonderful. I had ricotta/spinach gnocchi dumpling sthat had been lightly poached before being placed in a pool of tomato and ricotta sauce. Simple and delicious, and definitely something I'd like to experiment with at home. My second experience there started off with the same pecorino/arugula salad and was followed by lovely gnocchi in a fresh tomato and basil sauce. Again, refreshingly simple and delightful.

The second restaurant I have to share with you is a real gem. In fact, I seriously considered moving in. Brasserie was a lovely French restaurant just a five-minute walk from our hotel, and surprisingly empty for the delicious food they turn out. The second we walked in, I felt myself relax and unwind after a crazy and mosquito-filled week. We were eagerly ushered in by the manager (who remembered Pauline and Jenny from a visit months before), and immediately set to work on the free bread and fresh basil and herb olive oil it accompanied. Did I already mention my weakness for fresh bread? It turns out, it gets even worse when said bread comes with that delicious flavored oil.

Now, Jenny had been tormenting me for days about the lovely food on which we were going to be feasting, so ordering was not much of a problem for me. I knew I wanted escargots, as well as the goat cheese salad, but everything else looked so good that I persuaded Pauline (or was it the other way around?) to split escargots and sauteed chicken liver so that we could try both.

The escargot were amazing, just drenched in herbed butter and not in the least bit overly chewy, as so many people fear. The chicken liver arrived, sauteed in red wine with mushrooms, draped over a lovely brioche roll. The flavors were amazing together. And the goat cheese salad? Well, I have this theory that goat cheese makes absolutely anything taste better, and this salad was no exception. A half round of goat cheese on a piece of toast that had been slightly crisped in the oven topped a salad with a beautifully simple viniagrette...and I even think I spied some toasted pine nuts hiding in there as well.

My last meal in Jakarta was a repeat at Brasserie, with a bowl of delicious french onion soup, followed by a shared goat cheese salad with Pauline (my budget was getting a bit out of hand, so sharing helped offset the cost, a touch). Again, absolutely beautiful food, though this time it was accompanied by an incredible Amaretto Sour. These drinks, while consistently delicious in my opinion, can tend towards the too-sweet side, but this one was balanced by a touch of lemon. I know I'll be ordering one from my favorite bartender (my dad) when I go home.

The rest of my time in Jakarta was spent wandering around malls and the cinema, oh, and fighting through a crazy day where all three of us had vertigo and truly upset stomachs. Just a tip: never go to Jakarta during Ramadan, especially the last day of celebration. If you do, you'll have a whole new sympathy for non-Christians visiting Christian countries around Christmas time.

Next up, I head to Hanoi and fall in love with Bia Hoi.

A mighty jungle

Apparently I was a bit mixed up with my orangutan preserve locations when I said earlier that I was going to Sumatra. Instead, I ended up on a boat in the jungle in Kalimantan, in the Indonesian portion of Borneo.



This week was spent with my sister on her fall weeklong holiday, as well as eight other teachers from the international school where she works in Bandung. We boarded the plane for Kalimantan in Jakarta, had a fun dance party to various Mika and Madonna songs at the back of the plane and before I knew it, I was on Borneo and boarding the boat that would be my home for the next four days.

The boat itself was rather nice, at least nicer than what I had in mind, which was sort of a bigger version of the one in the movie The African Queen (Katherine Hepburn + Humphrey Bogart). Our boat had two levels, the kitchen and the staff sleeping quarters below, and our living room/card-playing room/reading room/dining room/sleeping quarters on top.

The trip on the whole was absolutely fantastic. I got to get up close and personal with dozens of orangutans both males (not so close to them, they're rather aggressive. Come to think of it, eye contact was out of a question as well) and females, as well as adorable babies. I even got to touch one's hand! The hair was unbelievably coarse. And all of them move with an unbelievable grace--I couldn't take enough pictures of their hands and feet as a result.



Female orangutans are particularly awe-inspiring. They have one baby every eight years, and for those eight years, are completely devoted to their little one. For the first three years or so, the mother literally holds the baby, then the next two years consists of the baby holding onto Mama's back and finally the baby exploring on its own, but staying close until Mom decides it's time to get pregnant again. The females even have an internal birth control that makes them unable to get pregnant for those eight years that they're caring for the baby--the young ones are that vulnerable and need that much attention.



In addition to the orangutans, I got to experience other fun jungle-y experiences, such as showering in jungle river water, drinking arak (indo rice liquor), being doused in red wine for absolutely no reason by another passenger (long story that I'm still puzzling over), sleeping under a mosquito net only to awaken to 30+ mosquitos inside the net and my bum completely covered in bites...lots of enjoyable moments.

Ahhh, yes, the food! I have to say that the food we had on the boat was some of the best Indonesian food any of us (teachers having lived in Indo for two years included) had ever had. There was always nasi (rice), but I enjoyed some lovely squid dishes and barbecue stir-fried tempeh (another soy product, similar to tofu) and of course, I can't forget the tree shaped watermelon slices served at the end of every meal. Almost put me in the holiday spirit...

The rest of the week with my sister was spent in Jakarta, and the fabulous food we had there deserves its own post, coming soon.

P.S. I'm currently in Vietnam, in Hoi An, and have to apologize for posting so late! I'll try to catch up when I get another rainy day like today.

A welcoming party

I realized last night after I posted my entry about my second week in Bali that I completely forgot the most authentically Balinese activity that I did the entire trip! I participated in a house-warming party, Balinese style.



I suppose that I need to back up and mention that when Anne offered to let me stay in her house my second week in Bali, she wasn't planning on being there. Unfortunately (but also fortunately, since I got to know her well), she had an accident involving stitches in her scalp and was "forced" to spend another week past her holiday with me in Bali before travelling back to Korea where she is a permanent substitute teacher at an international school.

I suspect that as a result of her accident, all of her Balinese friends/employees were a bit worried that there were bad spirits stirring up a ruckus in her newish home. So they all decided to have another house-warming ceremony in order to make sure that all of the gods and spirits were in agreement that this house should no longer contain quite so much mischief.

After an afternoon of helping Anne shop at the friendly neighborhood Balinese Costco, we rushed home to make it back to the house before the priests arrived, which we did, luckily, as it turned out that we had to be dressed for the occasion.
When Anne and I arrived, Ketut (essentially the overall manager of the property and groundskeeper and general coordinator of all of the other workers) had already changed into a sarong and matching sash and was opening up the house to get it ready. A few other people rushed home on their motorbikes to find sarongs and sashes for Anne and I so that we would be properly attired.

The priest arrrived and everyone got everything set up, which, in Bali, means a huge spread of rice, beautiful fresh flowers, a baby chick and hundreds of other things designed to make the gods and spirits happy with you. The priest did a three-part chant, first asking the gods permission to pray, then the actual praying, before a long closing chant to thank them.



It was a beautiful, fairly surreal experience, and I felt so honored to be invited to participate. I mean, I drank flower-flavored water, put flowers in my hair, even had a string tied to my wrist, which all signified...well, I have no idea, actually, but I think they were all good things. Plus, I now feel a responsibility to the house and its well-being, so it's only natural that I should go back to check on it sometime in the near future. Right, Anne?

Pretending it's the weekend

I still can't believe how lucky I am. That a complete stranger would open their GORGEOUS home to me for an entire week is way more than anyone should be able to ask for. Luckily, I didn't have to ask for it, it was offered a mere 2 hours after I met her. Anne is a lovely woman, incredibly generous with her advice, experience, time and gorgeous (did I already mention that?) home.



My second week in Bali was spent exactly how I pictured a Balinese vacation before I ever arrived. I read probably six different books, lounging by a beautiful pool tiled in navy, taking dips whenever I wanted. I also cooked a few times, had lovely wine, as well as fantastic Balinese food.

Indonesian food and Balinese food are rather different, in my experience, at least, with Balinese food winning hands down. Take Indonesian food, add Indian and Malay spices, and you'll have an idea of what Bali has to offer culinarily.

I went to a traditional Balinese restaurant run by a Swiss gentleman who immigrated many years ago, and has since married a Balinese woman and settled down. The food was phenomenal, phenomenal enough for me to pay way too much money to sign up for a cooking course. The course was a lot of fun, and I got many good recipes out of it, but it didn't allow me to cook nearly as much as I wanted to. Then again, unless a cooking course allows me to cook everything by myself, it'll probably never live up to my expectations. Eh, c'est la vie.

Here's my first quick recipe tip, inspired by my course:
Anyone looking for a delicious quick snack should combine the following:
sweet corn, lime juice, shredded coconut and a touch of sugar.
Absolutely wonderful, though I warn you that the lime juice is essential...without it, the dish is much too sweet.
Enjoy, and I promise to update you on my much more eventful adventures in the jungles of Kalimantan very soon.

p.s. If anyone knows of a green papaya soup recipe from Bali, please let me know! I fell in love with the dish while I was there and can't wait to experiment when I get back home.

A world down under

Whew! When last we met...well, let's just say that we have a lot to catch up on. I'm closing out the end of time in Bali, and is it ever gorgeous here. Not quite the idyllic paradise of everyone's dreams, however...somehow I think it would have to be a bit cleaner to fit that bill. I guess whenever I thought about Bali, I always pictured a tropical island paradise, which it definitely is, but there's still the poverty here that you see all over Indonesia. People throw their trash everywhere, including all over the beautiful countryside, burn huge piles of rubbish and there are still any number of stray dogs everywhere. The Balinese people and the gorgeous countryside more than make up for it, however.

My first week was spent in the Legian area, which is right next to Kuta, also know as Party Town. There are so many foreigners in this area! The driver who drove me home from scuba diving certification (I'm officially certified!) dropped off another diver first right in the heart of the Kuta Beach area, and it was crazy how many westerners/aussies were walking around! So much for the Balinese immersion experience, at least in this neck of the woods. Maybe that was a good thing to start off with though, because when the driver dropped me off at my hotel, I thought I was at the wrong one. I have a tiny excuse, but it's fairly thin: the staff had started decorating for a festival for the following day and literally transformed the place! The front desk guy was laughing a little at me, since he recognized me from checking in the previous evening and even remembered my name.

My first week's highlights consisted of scuba diving and elephant trekking. Scuba literally opens up a whole new world (and yes, I admit that once I thought about it that way, I had the Disney song stuck in my head the rest of the dive). I absolutely love diving, though that's not to say I wasn't scared to death the first time I went under in a pool and then again in the ocean. Absolutely crazy feeling to be able to breathe underwater.

The view under there is magnificent. A fellow diver (I love saying that) mentioned that it felt like you were on the Discovery Channel, and I couldn't agree more. I found Nemo, I saw a huge school of fish that formed a cyclone spiral around me, I even had my hand cleaned by a cleaning shrimp who decided to hop on and relieve me a a small scab on the back of my hand. Talk about strange sensations. I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who has any interest in trying. Do it, and then go to Bali and dive at the shipwreck at Tulamben.

As I mentioned, the other highlight had to be the elephant trekking. My friend Austin and I went to the Elephant Safari Park near Ubud for a half day trip to, essentially, ride elephants. It turned about to be such a fun experience, since we spent half of our time feeding the elephants banana palm. And were they ever greedy! These elephants (rescued from the island of Sumatra) would take as much banana palm as they wanted in their trunks, but half the time throw the pieces on the ground because they were just as picky as they were greedy. One even went so far as to try and steal pieces from another elephant's mouth. They also liked to tease you by just bopping you on the head or shoulder with their trunk, or blowing air at you to get a reaction. Mine was to fall completely in love with them.



I think the best part about the park was the way the animals were treated. Each elephants (27 total, I believe), had their own handler who rode them and cared for them every day. They all had plenty to eat--something Austin and I helped with--and had days off, lunch breaks, the whole enchilada. The park is also consistently helping to work on Sumatran elephant conservation, making the rather stiff entrance fee at least a bit more reasonable.

I had an incredibly full and busy first week, meeting new people, diving, trekking, exploring Ubud (the shopping capital) and eating as much Indonesian food as I could get my hands on. Thank goodness the following week allowed me quite a bit more rest in Bali's loveliest location imaginable. More on that as soon as I can.

Leave the gun, take the cannoli

In order to prepare for my trip, I'm been on a strict diet of copious amounts of French cheese and wine, pasta, Manhattans, and anything else I won't possibly get on my trip. With that in mind, I've been trolling through Marcella Hazan's cookbook, as well as the Zuni Cafe Cookbook, Sunday Suppers at Lucques, and Miss Molly's archives. I've had lots of tomato sauce, some delicious salads, and tonight I'm going all out with a wild mushroom risotto inspired by Jamie Oliver's recipe (I'll make it a point to write it out some time). Oh, and in the oven right now are the best cinnamon rolls I've ever tasted, bar none (Thanks again, Molly!).

I'm actually looking forward to eating nothing but local food in whatever locale I land. That's really the only way to travel and learn, in my way of thinking. I, of course, understand the occasional craving, but still cringe at the memory of going to a Hard Rock Cafe in Paris my first trip there with my high school group (the trip was maybe 2 weeks total!)...live and learn.

At the moment, I'm working on getting a 12 week supply of, well, living material into a (lovely) backpack. A backpacker's backpack, mind you, my first one, but a backpack nonetheless. I feel like I should have been reading the last few issues of the magazine "Real Simple"or something to help me pare down my needs. I figure that since I'm only taking three pairs of shoes, including the ones I'm wearing, that I'm on the right track. I actually feel a bit like I'm back in college, when flip flops were widely considered fashionable wear.

I suppose I'd better get back to making sure that I can lift my backpack once all my stuff is inside. Definitely taking my skincare stuff, since the makeup's not coming along. Must remember to leave room for a few souvenirs, and to pack the addresses of some of the cooking schools I'll hopefully check out. Call the credit card companies, get in one last workout...whew. Okay, yes, lots to do. But right now, all I can think about is the smell of cinnamon wafting from the kitchen.

P.S. In case you didn't already know, I'm about to leave on a 12 week trip around SE Asia. Stops include Bali, Sumatra, Java, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and Thailand. Wish me luck!! I promise to keep you all updated here.