So last night I got to chat online with Cathy via our Gmail chat device. Very cool. The timing was only a little off, and we got to chat for like a half an hour, which would have been a fortune on the phone.
She often makes the point of how wonderful the people are there. As you'll see in the following e-mail, which she sent upon return to Mandalay from Hsipaw.
we're back in mandalay after 4 wonderful days in hsipaw. i'll tell you
about the train ride first... so many of the good stories have to do
with transport.
the train from mandalay to hspiaw was full for 3 days so we hired a
car for $50 which turned out to be a great deal because he stopped at
the botanical gardens and some caves along the way. it took us most
of the day to get to hspiaw. the bontanical gardens were beautiful
and there was a flower festival going on so lots of lots of people.
it was nice to see burmese people relaxing and enjoying time with
their families because it seems that all they do is work (they are up
around 4am and things close down pretty early at night.. around 9pm).
one thing we thought was funny is there were speakers set up all over
the park BLARING asian music. it was very very loud and not very
relaxing. we were later told the loud music is to please the Nat. the
nat is sort of a spirit that a lot of folks believe in... they want to
keep the spirit happy so good things happen to you. chris.. the
spirit houses in thailand were for something like the nat. they do all
kinds of things to make the nat happy like build him nice little
houses and put offerings in the big bilbao trees and bring him fruit
and rice and beautiful flowers. apparently he also likes loud music.
so after the park we visited some caves that were really amazing.
there were hundreds of different buddah's set up back in the caves
along with little scenes ( fake trees and monks sitting around). we
couldnt figure out how they got all the stuff in there. plus a lot of
the walkway was done in tiny tiles which would have taken forever. it
was very impressive and christina called it a buddah theme park.
we stayed at mr charles guest house in hsipaw which is where most
folks stay. hsipaw is in the hills in the shan state in eastern
myanmar.. very close to the chinese border. the food is more chinese
there and the shan people look more chinese. we rented bikes one day
and rode around to different monestaries and a nat shrine (really
cool.. everyone takes the nat these huge food/fruit and flower
baskets. we asked someone and they said the baskets sit there for a
day then the children come and collect all the food and eat it. we
also went to the nephew of the last shan prince's house... remind me
to tell you more about that later (big brother watching.. phone calls
here are listened to etc etc)
the area around hspiaw is very beautiful.. lots of small farms. we
rode by several villages and gardens. chris you'd be proud of me. i
was mountain biking only with a one speed 100lb tank of a bike. the
roads and paths are terrible here!! i never fell off though. you'd
also be proud at me riding around in the dark like everyone else does.
i dont really like it but it gets dark at 5pm and we had to get home.
lights (on cars, scooters etc) seem to be optional. i havent seen
anyone get hit though and the traffic pattern is definitely mroe
orderly than vietnam. my favorite way to get around is by trishaw
(man on bike ).
anyway back to transport... the train ride from hsipaw to mandalay is
gorgeous. you go past gardens and rolling hills and monestaires and
pagodas. we enjoyed ourselves for the first 8 hours or so. they we
sat at a train station in py o lyn for 3 hours and we lost some steam
there. by the time we left again it was dark so they closed all the
windows on the train when it was cold. many more people had gotten on
at that point .. we had seats but there were people standing and
sitting in the aisles all around us hacking their lungs out. didnt
bother me when the windows were open but between the spitting and
hacking we were ready to be off that train when it finally arrived in
mandalay 13 hours after we left hsipaw. people were very very nice
though. they shared food with us and called us over to their window
when there was something pretty to see. the train car guy would tell
us how long we were supposed to stop at each station so we'd know if
we could get off or not. in short.. the opposite of vietnam. the
photos i brought over are a big hit. they've been looked at by so
many people. they were passed around the train car last night as we
crawled towards mandalay in a train car that was lit only by one
candle that someone had put on our train seat because they thought
we'd like some light. other than that it was pitch black!
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Football Part 2
This came shortly after the previous one:
i just popped my head in for the national anthem. it is so cool...
you would love this! the cyber cafe is right outside the stadium so i
can hear everything.
i miss you! i may not be able to write for a few days but i will write
whenever i can. dont worry if you dont hear from me for a few days.
we are staying at the golden mandalay hotel in mandalay (such a great
place.. little cabins on this lake/pond). it is crazy how well they
are treating us... we feel like royalty. we'll be back here in a few
days after hspiaw.
hello to gus and henry! for some reason people really like that photo
of gus. maybe because he is so big and black and all their dogs are
skinny and brown/white.
oh and yesterday we went to a monestary and got to see 1000 monks get
their lunch and eat it silently. very cool. they walk in a line and
their bowls get filled with rice then they chant then eat. i took a
few photos but felt weird about taking them even though it was OK
because they want you to donate to the monestary. i bought a book.
i just popped my head in for the national anthem. it is so cool...
you would love this! the cyber cafe is right outside the stadium so i
can hear everything.
i miss you! i may not be able to write for a few days but i will write
whenever i can. dont worry if you dont hear from me for a few days.
we are staying at the golden mandalay hotel in mandalay (such a great
place.. little cabins on this lake/pond). it is crazy how well they
are treating us... we feel like royalty. we'll be back here in a few
days after hspiaw.
hello to gus and henry! for some reason people really like that photo
of gus. maybe because he is so big and black and all their dogs are
skinny and brown/white.
oh and yesterday we went to a monestary and got to see 1000 monks get
their lunch and eat it silently. very cool. they walk in a line and
their bowls get filled with rice then they chant then eat. i took a
few photos but felt weird about taking them even though it was OK
because they want you to donate to the monestary. i bought a book.
Football in Mandalay
This came Sunday morning, to both me and Jan.
HELLO!!
hope all is well with both of you. internet access is getting a
little more difficult so i wanted to write before we leave for hsipaw
because i dont think there is any there.
we've just come from the first game of the grand royal cup.. we saw
the myanmar under 23 team play malaysia. they won 1-0 which made
everyone very happy. it was definitely a bit daunting at first when
we walked into the stadium with 1000's of fans hopped up on kat leaves
and betel going crazy. that and all the machine guns/police/army made
for quite a scene. everyone is so nice though that it was no problem.
we were quite a spectacle... only white people in the stadium as far
as i could tell and also very few women there at all. the myanmar
national team plays in 1/2 hour and we could get back into the stadium
to see it if we want but christina doesnt want to which is a bummer. i
might see if i can go in just for the national anthem and beginning
procession which was very cool in the first game. they dont sell
popcorn or peanuts. only cigarettes, sunflower seeds and eggs. yes
eggs. not sure if they were boiled or raw but there was a man walking
around selling them. yukky. it was awesome... i'm so glad we got to
go. you arent supposed to reenter the stadium but a man from the
"ministry of physical education" who was in a very official government
uniform said we could come back. christina asked him if we needed a
ticket or stam p or something and he just laughed and said something
that we took to mean "dont worry... we'll remember you" it was pretty
funny.
we have made friends with a trishaw driver that came to the game wityh
us. i paid for his ticket and he came and stood in line at 0700 to
buy them. he's a very nice guy and his friend may drive us to hsipaw
tomorrow. we were supposed to take the train but it is full for 3 days. something about the government buying all the seats.
we\'re staying in a very nice place in mandalay for 20/night. they
treat us like royalty which is a bit embarrasing. and most of their
workers are under 10 years old which is also disturbing. i think they
are all part of the family but they work way too hard for little kids.
one little boy stands outside of our window in the am and as soon as i
come outside he takes cushions to the chairs/table by the pond and
starts bringing us breakfast. they even bring us our toilet paper on
a serving tray! people are SO polite and very interested in you and
where you are from. they even like americans here.
i better go... next game is starting and i\'m going to see if i can
stand in there for awhile. the stadium is pretty gross. there is red
betel spit all over the place and some parts of the walkway are huge
puddles of mud. they do have a big screen though and the game is
televised so people are watching it all over the country.
HELLO!!
hope all is well with both of you. internet access is getting a
little more difficult so i wanted to write before we leave for hsipaw
because i dont think there is any there.
we've just come from the first game of the grand royal cup.. we saw
the myanmar under 23 team play malaysia. they won 1-0 which made
everyone very happy. it was definitely a bit daunting at first when
we walked into the stadium with 1000's of fans hopped up on kat leaves
and betel going crazy. that and all the machine guns/police/army made
for quite a scene. everyone is so nice though that it was no problem.
we were quite a spectacle... only white people in the stadium as far
as i could tell and also very few women there at all. the myanmar
national team plays in 1/2 hour and we could get back into the stadium
to see it if we want but christina doesnt want to which is a bummer. i
might see if i can go in just for the national anthem and beginning
procession which was very cool in the first game. they dont sell
popcorn or peanuts. only cigarettes, sunflower seeds and eggs. yes
eggs. not sure if they were boiled or raw but there was a man walking
around selling them. yukky. it was awesome... i'm so glad we got to
go. you arent supposed to reenter the stadium but a man from the
"ministry of physical education" who was in a very official government
uniform said we could come back. christina asked him if we needed a
ticket or stam p or something and he just laughed and said something
that we took to mean "dont worry... we'll remember you" it was pretty
funny.
we have made friends with a trishaw driver that came to the game wityh
us. i paid for his ticket and he came and stood in line at 0700 to
buy them. he's a very nice guy and his friend may drive us to hsipaw
tomorrow. we were supposed to take the train but it is full for 3 days. something about the government buying all the seats.
we\'re staying in a very nice place in mandalay for 20/night. they
treat us like royalty which is a bit embarrasing. and most of their
workers are under 10 years old which is also disturbing. i think they
are all part of the family but they work way too hard for little kids.
one little boy stands outside of our window in the am and as soon as i
come outside he takes cushions to the chairs/table by the pond and
starts bringing us breakfast. they even bring us our toilet paper on
a serving tray! people are SO polite and very interested in you and
where you are from. they even like americans here.
i better go... next game is starting and i\'m going to see if i can
stand in there for awhile. the stadium is pretty gross. there is red
betel spit all over the place and some parts of the walkway are huge
puddles of mud. they do have a big screen though and the game is
televised so people are watching it all over the country.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Mandalay
This e-mail came Friday 12/15.
so yesterday in yangon was amazing. we took the ferry across the
yangon river to dalah and it was a different world over there. it felt
as remote as parts of zimbabwe but you were only a 5 minute ferry ride from
busy yangon. we had a couple of trishaw drivers show us around for 3
hours and i loved it. all the kids ran behind us and everyone stared
but also smiled. people are so friendly.
so christina wasnt feeling well today so i walked around mandalay and
now have a trishaw driver who is showing me around. it is a fun way to
get around and he took me to the stadium where the grand football game
is being held on sunday. first time ever in myanmar. tickets go on
sale sunday at 0700 and i definitely want to go. myanmar vs malaysia.
i am looking for a football jersey for you with the name/numer of the
best player... myohlaingwin #9. zawmyint, my trishaw driving is
sitting here helping me with the spelling and will help get tickets
sunday. he is at university studying japanese.
so i hope miss christina is feeling better tomorrow. she thinks she
ate something weird yesterday. luckily i'm still ok and hungry all the
time. some food is more like chinese but other food is fantastic.. you
would love all of it.
tomorrow i think we'll go visit the 3 ancient cities around mandalay
and then sunday go to football game if we can get tickets. then leave
monday i think for hsipaw. supposed to be an awesome train ride
through the mountains.
more monks here than in thailand and they talk to you a lot which is
different. we will visit some monestaries. i think they like to talk
english and also want donation for their monestary. not too many beer
places/bars. i dont think buddhists drink much and women do not at
all. sure do chew the red stuff though.
so yesterday in yangon was amazing. we took the ferry across the
yangon river to dalah and it was a different world over there. it felt
as remote as parts of zimbabwe but you were only a 5 minute ferry ride from
busy yangon. we had a couple of trishaw drivers show us around for 3
hours and i loved it. all the kids ran behind us and everyone stared
but also smiled. people are so friendly.
so christina wasnt feeling well today so i walked around mandalay and
now have a trishaw driver who is showing me around. it is a fun way to
get around and he took me to the stadium where the grand football game
is being held on sunday. first time ever in myanmar. tickets go on
sale sunday at 0700 and i definitely want to go. myanmar vs malaysia.
i am looking for a football jersey for you with the name/numer of the
best player... myohlaingwin #9. zawmyint, my trishaw driving is
sitting here helping me with the spelling and will help get tickets
sunday. he is at university studying japanese.
so i hope miss christina is feeling better tomorrow. she thinks she
ate something weird yesterday. luckily i'm still ok and hungry all the
time. some food is more like chinese but other food is fantastic.. you
would love all of it.
tomorrow i think we'll go visit the 3 ancient cities around mandalay
and then sunday go to football game if we can get tickets. then leave
monday i think for hsipaw. supposed to be an awesome train ride
through the mountains.
more monks here than in thailand and they talk to you a lot which is
different. we will visit some monestaries. i think they like to talk
english and also want donation for their monestary. not too many beer
places/bars. i dont think buddhists drink much and women do not at
all. sure do chew the red stuff though.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Yangon, Part 2
A bit more work, but it still sounds wonderful.
She brought a small photo book with her full of pictures of her and me and her mom and our dogs and Idaho and all sorts of stuff to explain to people where she's from.
Also, I'm editing out parts directed at specific people, or the mushy stuff.
Here's the second e-mail I've got from Cathy:
very nice to hear from you! too bad you're not at work now because i think we could IM. they get around government block of hotmail by signing into a french server so it is very slow but it works. to be honest, we have not noticed a lot of signs of oppression here. people are definitely very very poor but there are a lot of bookstores with current magazines like newsweek and the economist and they get asia CNN so things dont seem to be too restricted in the capitol. i remember it being more restricted in china. one thing though, i looked in the economist because there was supposed to be an article on myanmar in there and i couldnt find it so maybe it was censored.
so yesterday was frustrating. limited tourism facilities combined with high season means lots of full planes and trains. we were going to take train to mandalay tomorrow but all sleepers are full for several days. then wanted to fly toi kentung (near border with thailand.. supposed to be awesome trekking and very remote.. foreigners can only fly there) but flights full until next week (there are only 3 flights a week). so now we are flying to mandalay tomorrow and i'm going to call to see if we can arrange a place to stay.
our place in yangon is full tonight so we dont know what we're going to do but we'll figure something out.
we ate more awesome street food yesterday. sat down on those tiny plastic chairs and ate whatever they gave us. you'd be proud i've been pretty adventurous. yesterday we ate some yellow stuff that looked like noodles but was maybe some kind of tofu? they cut it up then cut a bunch of fresh herbs on it then put a bunch of spoonfuls of chilis and ginger/lemongrass etc and mix it all up and hand it to you. 100 kyat (about a dime!). much more expensive in restaurants. our bill at dinner last night was a whopping $4.
we still think people are very very friendly and they genuinely seem to want to help you. if we stand and look at our book for 30 seconds someone will come up and ask us where we are trying to go. a few people, mostly children have asked for money or food but their approach is very low key compared to anywhere else we've been.
so wish up luck today with our arrangements!! i think we need to actually try to book a few rooms as things seem to be getting full. we hardly see any white people anywhere though.
the photos i brought are a big hit. i pull them out when we are sitting on those little plastic chairs and soon there is a crowd gathered around looking at them. i'm so glad i brought them!
also very glad i brought the small camera because folks are pretty camera shy and it was much easier to walk around the market with that one. i used the big one when we were in more touristy areas where folks were more used to cameras.
i dont mind if you put stuff on blog...as long as it is interesting... a lot of what i write isnt that exciting!
have fun at the cabin this weekend and glad we are getting snow. who knows where either one of us will end up on christmas! there are christmas decorations all over town so they celebrate more than we exxpected.
hello to gussy and henry. i've made 1 dog friend that i see every day. he seems to have an owner but all the dogs run around free and are very skinny. i havent seen anyone chase them away or be mean to them though which is good.
and all the men really do wear skirts (longhi.. not sure how to spell). everyone does. business men wear them with buttondown shirts and ties , it looks cool.
it is 9am now and we are leaving for mandalay at 6am tomorrow. spend a couple days there then take train to hsipaw then not sure.
She brought a small photo book with her full of pictures of her and me and her mom and our dogs and Idaho and all sorts of stuff to explain to people where she's from.
Also, I'm editing out parts directed at specific people, or the mushy stuff.
Here's the second e-mail I've got from Cathy:
very nice to hear from you! too bad you're not at work now because i think we could IM. they get around government block of hotmail by signing into a french server so it is very slow but it works. to be honest, we have not noticed a lot of signs of oppression here. people are definitely very very poor but there are a lot of bookstores with current magazines like newsweek and the economist and they get asia CNN so things dont seem to be too restricted in the capitol. i remember it being more restricted in china. one thing though, i looked in the economist because there was supposed to be an article on myanmar in there and i couldnt find it so maybe it was censored.
so yesterday was frustrating. limited tourism facilities combined with high season means lots of full planes and trains. we were going to take train to mandalay tomorrow but all sleepers are full for several days. then wanted to fly toi kentung (near border with thailand.. supposed to be awesome trekking and very remote.. foreigners can only fly there) but flights full until next week (there are only 3 flights a week). so now we are flying to mandalay tomorrow and i'm going to call to see if we can arrange a place to stay.
our place in yangon is full tonight so we dont know what we're going to do but we'll figure something out.
we ate more awesome street food yesterday. sat down on those tiny plastic chairs and ate whatever they gave us. you'd be proud i've been pretty adventurous. yesterday we ate some yellow stuff that looked like noodles but was maybe some kind of tofu? they cut it up then cut a bunch of fresh herbs on it then put a bunch of spoonfuls of chilis and ginger/lemongrass etc and mix it all up and hand it to you. 100 kyat (about a dime!). much more expensive in restaurants. our bill at dinner last night was a whopping $4.
we still think people are very very friendly and they genuinely seem to want to help you. if we stand and look at our book for 30 seconds someone will come up and ask us where we are trying to go. a few people, mostly children have asked for money or food but their approach is very low key compared to anywhere else we've been.
so wish up luck today with our arrangements!! i think we need to actually try to book a few rooms as things seem to be getting full. we hardly see any white people anywhere though.
the photos i brought are a big hit. i pull them out when we are sitting on those little plastic chairs and soon there is a crowd gathered around looking at them. i'm so glad i brought them!
also very glad i brought the small camera because folks are pretty camera shy and it was much easier to walk around the market with that one. i used the big one when we were in more touristy areas where folks were more used to cameras.
i dont mind if you put stuff on blog...as long as it is interesting... a lot of what i write isnt that exciting!
have fun at the cabin this weekend and glad we are getting snow. who knows where either one of us will end up on christmas! there are christmas decorations all over town so they celebrate more than we exxpected.
hello to gussy and henry. i've made 1 dog friend that i see every day. he seems to have an owner but all the dogs run around free and are very skinny. i havent seen anyone chase them away or be mean to them though which is good.
and all the men really do wear skirts (longhi.. not sure how to spell). everyone does. business men wear them with buttondown shirts and ties , it looks cool.
it is 9am now and we are leaving for mandalay at 6am tomorrow. spend a couple days there then take train to hsipaw then not sure.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Greetings from Balmy Yangon
Got this e-mail from Cathy. Sounds like they're doing great. I tried to edit for weird cut and paste glitches but I may have missed some.
Hello!!
its wed am here and i just got done sitting on the street taking photos of people on their way to work. it is amazing how many people they can cram onto a bus or truck or anything with wheels!
everything has been great so far.. no problems at all. i met up with christina in singapore no problem and we flew to yangon. singapore airlines is fantastic.. gourmet food and stunningly beautiful flight attendants dressed in purple. so we were supposed to be picked up at the airport by a man from our hotel but he did not show up. we stood around for a while then got swamped by the inevitable crowd of folks that seem to meet every plane, train and bus in every country "hello hello where you from? taxi taxi??". compared to other places it wasnt bad here at all though and we got a taxi to take us to our place and the man that was supposed to pick us up even paid for it.
yangon is awesome. its like an older more decrepit version of bangkok. it is teeming with activity and street life. little plastic chairs and tables set up all over the place serving all kinds of utterly amazing food.
chris... you would be in heaven. mom... WAY too spicy for you.
i've tried all kinds of things and so far the only thing i didnt like was the grilled chicken skin. it looked good until i bit into it then i gave it to a skinny dog. yesterday we wandered all over the place and walked through some fascinating food markets which happened to be next to a garbage dump. all kinds of fresh fish and veggies and other colorful things that i could not identify. so far i've been eating a lot from street vendors and feel great... i hope it stays that way.
people here have been very nice. they either don't pay much attention to you or smile and say hello. there does not seem to be any resentment towards tourists. last evening we went to the Shwedagon Paya which is a HUGE temple (actually many many temples and dozens and dozens of glittering buddhas. it was bigger and glitzier than anything we saw in thailand. also the monks are more friendly here. i did not think they were supposed to talk to people, especially women, but we had a couple of young ones (maybe14?) following us around the Paya pointing things out to us and acting more like teenage boys than monks.
christina is still sleeping (she does like to sleep late) but that is good because it gives me time to walk around and take photos. today we will try to arrange our train ticket up north. still not sure exactly where we will go from here but we think train to mandalay then hire a driver to take us to hsipaw then train back to mandalay then boat to bagan then hire driver to a few other places then back to yangon for new years. we're actually seen quite a few christmas trees and references to christmas and new years. christina wants to get a room at this 5 star hotel for new years eve which could be fun and it is only $90/night (very cheap for a 5 star hotel, esp split in half) it is so cheap here... tiger beer is about 50 cents, a good meal is $2-3 and a decent place to stay around 10-15/night. its hot and humid but not too bad. i am shiny faced and fuzzy haired though and expect i will remain that way for the entire trip.
that's all for now! i hope all is well and pls give our fat spoiled dogs a pat on the head from me. i have already made a couple dog friends here.
i love you and miss you! chris i wish you were here... you would love yangon.. like bangkok but not quite as hectic and the old coloniel looking architecture. i will take lots of photos, dont worry. :-)
Hello!!
its wed am here and i just got done sitting on the street taking photos of people on their way to work. it is amazing how many people they can cram onto a bus or truck or anything with wheels!
everything has been great so far.. no problems at all. i met up with christina in singapore no problem and we flew to yangon. singapore airlines is fantastic.. gourmet food and stunningly beautiful flight attendants dressed in purple. so we were supposed to be picked up at the airport by a man from our hotel but he did not show up. we stood around for a while then got swamped by the inevitable crowd of folks that seem to meet every plane, train and bus in every country "hello hello where you from? taxi taxi??". compared to other places it wasnt bad here at all though and we got a taxi to take us to our place and the man that was supposed to pick us up even paid for it.
yangon is awesome. its like an older more decrepit version of bangkok. it is teeming with activity and street life. little plastic chairs and tables set up all over the place serving all kinds of utterly amazing food.
chris... you would be in heaven. mom... WAY too spicy for you.
i've tried all kinds of things and so far the only thing i didnt like was the grilled chicken skin. it looked good until i bit into it then i gave it to a skinny dog. yesterday we wandered all over the place and walked through some fascinating food markets which happened to be next to a garbage dump. all kinds of fresh fish and veggies and other colorful things that i could not identify. so far i've been eating a lot from street vendors and feel great... i hope it stays that way.
people here have been very nice. they either don't pay much attention to you or smile and say hello. there does not seem to be any resentment towards tourists. last evening we went to the Shwedagon Paya which is a HUGE temple (actually many many temples and dozens and dozens of glittering buddhas. it was bigger and glitzier than anything we saw in thailand. also the monks are more friendly here. i did not think they were supposed to talk to people, especially women, but we had a couple of young ones (maybe14?) following us around the Paya pointing things out to us and acting more like teenage boys than monks.
christina is still sleeping (she does like to sleep late) but that is good because it gives me time to walk around and take photos. today we will try to arrange our train ticket up north. still not sure exactly where we will go from here but we think train to mandalay then hire a driver to take us to hsipaw then train back to mandalay then boat to bagan then hire driver to a few other places then back to yangon for new years. we're actually seen quite a few christmas trees and references to christmas and new years. christina wants to get a room at this 5 star hotel for new years eve which could be fun and it is only $90/night (very cheap for a 5 star hotel, esp split in half) it is so cheap here... tiger beer is about 50 cents, a good meal is $2-3 and a decent place to stay around 10-15/night. its hot and humid but not too bad. i am shiny faced and fuzzy haired though and expect i will remain that way for the entire trip.
that's all for now! i hope all is well and pls give our fat spoiled dogs a pat on the head from me. i have already made a couple dog friends here.
i love you and miss you! chris i wish you were here... you would love yangon.. like bangkok but not quite as hectic and the old coloniel looking architecture. i will take lots of photos, dont worry. :-)
Monday, December 11, 2006
On the Way
An e-mail from Cathy delivered late last night said that she was in the airport in Singapore and had connected with Christina. So, the two of them were waiting together, apparently enjoying the free foot massages that you can get in the Singapore airport. Nice.
The flight went well, and they're moving right along.
The flight went well, and they're moving right along.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Taipei
Got a text message about 3pm today.
Just landed n taipei great flight est the food now four hrs to sin love u xxxxxx
So, Cathy's landed in Taipei after a good flight where she ate well. Now she waits 4 hours before getting a flight to Singapore--or she takes a four hour flight to Singapore, one of the two.
Either way, good news. The big long hard part is over, and now she flies Singapore Air to Yangon (Rangoon).
More as I know it.
Just landed n taipei great flight est the food now four hrs to sin love u xxxxxx
So, Cathy's landed in Taipei after a good flight where she ate well. Now she waits 4 hours before getting a flight to Singapore--or she takes a four hour flight to Singapore, one of the two.
Either way, good news. The big long hard part is over, and now she flies Singapore Air to Yangon (Rangoon).
More as I know it.
A New Story: Cathy Goes to Myanmar
Cathy left for Myanmar (Burma) on 12.9.06. I don't know how often we'll be in touch while she's there, but I'll post updates here.
She's traveling with our friend Christina, who lives in Amsterdam and who Cathy met some years ago while traveling in Zimbabwe.
Confusing?
Nah. They've visited each other often and have wanted to take a grand adventure together ever since they met. So, here it is.
I'm quite jealous, but I'm excited for her.
Tune in for updates.
She's traveling with our friend Christina, who lives in Amsterdam and who Cathy met some years ago while traveling in Zimbabwe.
Confusing?
Nah. They've visited each other often and have wanted to take a grand adventure together ever since they met. So, here it is.
I'm quite jealous, but I'm excited for her.
Tune in for updates.
King Louie
Some time ago, Cathy and I took part in the See Spot Walk fundraiser for the Humane Society here. We watched a Doberman who was there to be adopted, and who did get adopted by the end of the day.
But the day's highlight for us was a visit with an old friend.
Remember Big Head? He's Louie now.
But the day's highlight for us was a visit with an old friend.
Remember Big Head? He's Louie now.
His new owner was at the event, and Cathy recognized him instantly from across the park. So great to see him. He's a good bit bigger and healthy as a horse. And it's immediately obvious that he's got it good these days.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Final Update
It seems the dog saga has come to a close. Week before last, both Stanley and Banjo, the last two dogs unaccounted for in the aftermath of our trip, were adopted. Kudos to Hilary and Judi, their foster parents, for sticking it out until they found homes.
Finally, Cathy and I can consider the New Orleans trip a success. With one sad exception, all the dogs we brought back have gone to permanent homes, foster homes, or into the prisoner training program. The one dog who didn't make it never really had a chance, which just makes us wish we hadn't put him through the trauma of the trip, but we didn't know at the time. No one did.
So, at long last, we close this chapter. It's been a memorable experience to say the least. Thanks for following along.
Finally, Cathy and I can consider the New Orleans trip a success. With one sad exception, all the dogs we brought back have gone to permanent homes, foster homes, or into the prisoner training program. The one dog who didn't make it never really had a chance, which just makes us wish we hadn't put him through the trauma of the trip, but we didn't know at the time. No one did.
So, at long last, we close this chapter. It's been a memorable experience to say the least. Thanks for following along.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
(Updated) Update
I've had lots of questions about how the dogs are doing nowadays. The quick answer is pretty damn well.
Many of the dogs are still being treated for heartworms, and it's gonna be a couple few more weeks before they're ready for adoption or fostering. The good news is that so far there's enough space in the shelter here for them to stay put and get the treatment they need. This includes Flat Stanley, who's doing much better these days, and who has a foster home already lined up with our friend Judi and her dog V. It's good to know that, if he doesn't get adopted pretty quick-like, he'll have a great place to go to.
Some dogs have been adopted already. Big Head (now known as Louie) has been adopted and is comfortably dug in at his new home. Recent accounts have us convinced that this dog will now have the most comfortable and fulfilling of dog lives. This is Louie with a tennis ball:
Here he is in his new digs:
With his new friends:
As you can imagine, getting these photos made us very happy.
The skinny broke-footed hound has been adopted for good by our friends Chris and Chuck and will be undergoing surgery next week to fix her bad foot. We were able to hang out with Trina, as she's now called, over Thanksgiving, and we're happy to report that she now has the dog's dream life. She gets on great with Anna, the youngster of the household, and appears predisposed to get on well with the baby that will arrive in January. She's got a cabin in the woods and dog friends named Daisy and Paw Paw. She'll have a good life.
There are plenty of dogs still in need of homes, but early indications are good. We visited them last weekend (Cathy's been back a number of times besides that), and we were told that they had just put 5 of the dogs up for adoption the previous day, and they were all taken home already. That's a good sign.
So, so far so good.
About the comments: As you may have noticed, spammers know no boundaries. My comments section has been invaded by their BS, so I'd rather just hide the comments section than deal with them. Have no fear: you can still e-mail me if you've got something to add.
Thanks for reading.
Many of the dogs are still being treated for heartworms, and it's gonna be a couple few more weeks before they're ready for adoption or fostering. The good news is that so far there's enough space in the shelter here for them to stay put and get the treatment they need. This includes Flat Stanley, who's doing much better these days, and who has a foster home already lined up with our friend Judi and her dog V. It's good to know that, if he doesn't get adopted pretty quick-like, he'll have a great place to go to.
Some dogs have been adopted already. Big Head (now known as Louie) has been adopted and is comfortably dug in at his new home. Recent accounts have us convinced that this dog will now have the most comfortable and fulfilling of dog lives. This is Louie with a tennis ball:
Here he is in his new digs:
With his new friends:
As you can imagine, getting these photos made us very happy.
The skinny broke-footed hound has been adopted for good by our friends Chris and Chuck and will be undergoing surgery next week to fix her bad foot. We were able to hang out with Trina, as she's now called, over Thanksgiving, and we're happy to report that she now has the dog's dream life. She gets on great with Anna, the youngster of the household, and appears predisposed to get on well with the baby that will arrive in January. She's got a cabin in the woods and dog friends named Daisy and Paw Paw. She'll have a good life.
There are plenty of dogs still in need of homes, but early indications are good. We visited them last weekend (Cathy's been back a number of times besides that), and we were told that they had just put 5 of the dogs up for adoption the previous day, and they were all taken home already. That's a good sign.
So, so far so good.
About the comments: As you may have noticed, spammers know no boundaries. My comments section has been invaded by their BS, so I'd rather just hide the comments section than deal with them. Have no fear: you can still e-mail me if you've got something to add.
Thanks for reading.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Off the Road Again
We're home. Last night at about 6pm we arrived at the shelter here in Boise. We helped unload the dogs, all of whom were in pretty good shape by then, walking them a bit and moving them all into cages inside the building. The other two trucks of dogs had arrived the day before, and so between them all we took up a bit of space.
Needless to say, it was strange and not very easy to leave that place. We'd grown attached to these dogs, felt responsible for them, and it was sad and disconcerting to leave them in cages and just go home. But we did, eventually, after many lengthy goodbyes, and we went home to baffle Gus and Henry with the stew of dog odors we'd been living in for the past few days. They were fascinated, though somewhat aloof and put-off.
We spent the night in our own bed, clean, and it was fantastic. Strange, though, to suddenly be at home, for the whole thing to be over, a vivid and surreal dream.
We had no internet access along the way, so I'm putting this together from notes and text documents we made along the way and posting them in chronological order. Unfortunately, we were so busy on this trip, so consumed during any stop or down time with taking care of these dogs and not losing our minds that we didn't get a chance to take many photographs. When you're scrambling in and out of the back of a truck and fighting the clock to keep from having to clean out any more crates than is absolutely necessary, or pressing hard forward to get over the next pass before the weather gets really bad, taking snapshots gets pushed to the bottom of the priority list.
This has been one of the best and one of the most horrible experiences I've ever had. But what it comes down to now is whether it was all worth it. These dogs need homes. That's been the point all along, and it'd be a shame to think they endured this trip for nothing.
Needless to say, it was strange and not very easy to leave that place. We'd grown attached to these dogs, felt responsible for them, and it was sad and disconcerting to leave them in cages and just go home. But we did, eventually, after many lengthy goodbyes, and we went home to baffle Gus and Henry with the stew of dog odors we'd been living in for the past few days. They were fascinated, though somewhat aloof and put-off.
We spent the night in our own bed, clean, and it was fantastic. Strange, though, to suddenly be at home, for the whole thing to be over, a vivid and surreal dream.
We had no internet access along the way, so I'm putting this together from notes and text documents we made along the way and posting them in chronological order. Unfortunately, we were so busy on this trip, so consumed during any stop or down time with taking care of these dogs and not losing our minds that we didn't get a chance to take many photographs. When you're scrambling in and out of the back of a truck and fighting the clock to keep from having to clean out any more crates than is absolutely necessary, or pressing hard forward to get over the next pass before the weather gets really bad, taking snapshots gets pushed to the bottom of the priority list.
This has been one of the best and one of the most horrible experiences I've ever had. But what it comes down to now is whether it was all worth it. These dogs need homes. That's been the point all along, and it'd be a shame to think they endured this trip for nothing.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Wyoming to Utah to Boise
This morning we woke from a hard sleep to the telephone ringing. 6:15am. It was the desk clerk, and he was with a police officer who wished to see us downstairs. We were both up and dressing right away, hoping the dogs were just barking and fearing it might be something more.
Cathy was out the door and down the stairs before I was, and by the time I exited the hotel into the cold Wyoming morning, the sun had just poked up, and Cathy and the cop were walking back toward the building. Everything was fine. Someone had called to say there were some dogs in the back of a U-Haul that were barking. They were concerned--understandably so. Really, we've been more troubled by people who didn't question what the hell we thought we were doing than by those who did. And this, plus a good deal of mud and mess, is what he saw back there:
As I approached the officer was telling Cathy about his own pets, 2 dogs and 2 cats. Then he wished us good luck and said he'd call ahead to the State Troopers to let them know we were coming through. A very pleasant man.
So, awake as we were, we got down to business. We moved the truck to the back side of the parking lot next to the hotel, behind the pharmacy next door, and started the long work of letting the dogs out for their morning constitutional. It was cold and muddy, but just knowing (or hoping) that this would be the last time we went through this ordeal kept the mood lighter. Even the dogs seemed to know it, as they seemed less anguished and more in tune to the routine. They also put up a little less resistance when being shoved back into their crates.
Still, though, by the time we were done we were caked with mud and smelling none too great from the 2 cages that needed cleaning. One of them, a skinny black labby dog, waited until his turn was next before he let loose. If only I'd let him out before the dog in the crate on top of him. He was so close! How torturous for him, though, to hang on until he couldn't hang on any longer. Poor guy. This is the dog in the crate on top of him:
We call him Big Head. He's horribly cute.
We went back up to our room and cleaned up a little, grabbed some coffee and a McDonald's breakfast (I know, I know), and hit the road. We had a long way to go, but our spirits were lifted by getting to Rawlins alive the previous night and the thoughts of getting home this evening. All that stood between us and home was about 9 hours of driving.
Unfortunately, we had to start this off in Wyoming. The wind was brutal as ever, though at first the roads were relatively dry. As long as we headed into the wind we were ok. But when the wind came from the side, everything changed. The truck lunged and bucked its way across I-80, keeping its grip on the road but making me think we would tip at any moment. It was pretty bad, and made me wish we had lots more weight in the back of the truck. The higher we got, the thicker the clouds got, and by the time we hit the next pass we were in hard-blowing snow and ice, visibility down to about 100' or so. It was rough, but the surface wasn't slippery, and I crept along about 55mph and kept my eyes forward and my chest pinned to the wheel.
The next pass was not so bad, and when after a few hours we rolled through Rock Springs, we knew we had but one big one to go. We'd heard lots about how horrible the pass into Utah was, and it was indeed windy and crowded with trucks driving at their usual and annoying accordion hill-climb style, crawling up the hills then flying down them, playing leapfrog with me for a good hour.
On the way down from the final pass, we crossed into Utah, and the effect on the weather was all but instantaneous. The wind slowed to near-zero effect, the traffic thinned a bit, and the scenery turned from bleak to beautiful, the red rock and jagged peaks tipped with snow making us feel much better about the world.
We felt so much better that Cathy brought old Flat Stanley up into the cab to better enjoy the ride. Up with us, he was an entirely different dog. This little shepherd mix, who in Kansas at the Pizza Hut I was convinced wouldn't survive to Colorado, was alert, bright-eyed, engaged, affectionate, and interested in every single thing that passed the windows of the truck cab. He kept trying to lick Cathy's face, and kept trying gently to get to me in the driver's seat, but C kept control of him and eventually he sat on her lap and just stared out the window.
This is Flat Stanley:
It was a long though uneventful haul across Utah, and I've never been so happy to see the Welcome to Idaho sign. It was hard to believe we were so close. The miles dragged by, taking forever, our eyes fixed firmly on the horizon and our hometown looming in the distance.
We got to the shelter in Boise about 6:30pm. There was a news camera truck in the parking lot, but the place was closed, so it took us a while to get someone's attention, and for them to open the doors. They late shift crew took the truck around back and started to unload. We just sort of stood there, not really knowing what to do with ourselves.
The folks from the shelter were taking the dogs off the truck, removing the crates, cleaning, putting dogs in cages inside. Everything was under control. But we couldn't leave. We helped unload, we helped put them in their new temporary homes, and we stood around a lot, wondering what to do next.
Our frieds Will and Chuck were there, Will to help us out and give us a ride home, Chuck to help out and take a hound home with him. Trina, as she's now known, was one of our favorites, a skinny young female hound with a front foot that had broken and healed wrong. But, by all indications, she's headed for a great life. And, she's already had her first experience with snow!
As you can guess, the thought of at least one of these dogs going to a home with people, especially these people, hopefully starting a new life, has made us very happy. But still, it was hard to leave there. It was hard to grasp that this long intense trip was now over, and that these dogs were no longer our responsibility.
But, we did eventually leave and go home, and were duly inspected (and then snubbed) by Gus and Henry. God, did they look fat.
Cathy was out the door and down the stairs before I was, and by the time I exited the hotel into the cold Wyoming morning, the sun had just poked up, and Cathy and the cop were walking back toward the building. Everything was fine. Someone had called to say there were some dogs in the back of a U-Haul that were barking. They were concerned--understandably so. Really, we've been more troubled by people who didn't question what the hell we thought we were doing than by those who did. And this, plus a good deal of mud and mess, is what he saw back there:
As I approached the officer was telling Cathy about his own pets, 2 dogs and 2 cats. Then he wished us good luck and said he'd call ahead to the State Troopers to let them know we were coming through. A very pleasant man.
So, awake as we were, we got down to business. We moved the truck to the back side of the parking lot next to the hotel, behind the pharmacy next door, and started the long work of letting the dogs out for their morning constitutional. It was cold and muddy, but just knowing (or hoping) that this would be the last time we went through this ordeal kept the mood lighter. Even the dogs seemed to know it, as they seemed less anguished and more in tune to the routine. They also put up a little less resistance when being shoved back into their crates.
Still, though, by the time we were done we were caked with mud and smelling none too great from the 2 cages that needed cleaning. One of them, a skinny black labby dog, waited until his turn was next before he let loose. If only I'd let him out before the dog in the crate on top of him. He was so close! How torturous for him, though, to hang on until he couldn't hang on any longer. Poor guy. This is the dog in the crate on top of him:
We call him Big Head. He's horribly cute.
We went back up to our room and cleaned up a little, grabbed some coffee and a McDonald's breakfast (I know, I know), and hit the road. We had a long way to go, but our spirits were lifted by getting to Rawlins alive the previous night and the thoughts of getting home this evening. All that stood between us and home was about 9 hours of driving.
Unfortunately, we had to start this off in Wyoming. The wind was brutal as ever, though at first the roads were relatively dry. As long as we headed into the wind we were ok. But when the wind came from the side, everything changed. The truck lunged and bucked its way across I-80, keeping its grip on the road but making me think we would tip at any moment. It was pretty bad, and made me wish we had lots more weight in the back of the truck. The higher we got, the thicker the clouds got, and by the time we hit the next pass we were in hard-blowing snow and ice, visibility down to about 100' or so. It was rough, but the surface wasn't slippery, and I crept along about 55mph and kept my eyes forward and my chest pinned to the wheel.
The next pass was not so bad, and when after a few hours we rolled through Rock Springs, we knew we had but one big one to go. We'd heard lots about how horrible the pass into Utah was, and it was indeed windy and crowded with trucks driving at their usual and annoying accordion hill-climb style, crawling up the hills then flying down them, playing leapfrog with me for a good hour.
On the way down from the final pass, we crossed into Utah, and the effect on the weather was all but instantaneous. The wind slowed to near-zero effect, the traffic thinned a bit, and the scenery turned from bleak to beautiful, the red rock and jagged peaks tipped with snow making us feel much better about the world.
We felt so much better that Cathy brought old Flat Stanley up into the cab to better enjoy the ride. Up with us, he was an entirely different dog. This little shepherd mix, who in Kansas at the Pizza Hut I was convinced wouldn't survive to Colorado, was alert, bright-eyed, engaged, affectionate, and interested in every single thing that passed the windows of the truck cab. He kept trying to lick Cathy's face, and kept trying gently to get to me in the driver's seat, but C kept control of him and eventually he sat on her lap and just stared out the window.
This is Flat Stanley:
It was a long though uneventful haul across Utah, and I've never been so happy to see the Welcome to Idaho sign. It was hard to believe we were so close. The miles dragged by, taking forever, our eyes fixed firmly on the horizon and our hometown looming in the distance.
We got to the shelter in Boise about 6:30pm. There was a news camera truck in the parking lot, but the place was closed, so it took us a while to get someone's attention, and for them to open the doors. They late shift crew took the truck around back and started to unload. We just sort of stood there, not really knowing what to do with ourselves.
The folks from the shelter were taking the dogs off the truck, removing the crates, cleaning, putting dogs in cages inside. Everything was under control. But we couldn't leave. We helped unload, we helped put them in their new temporary homes, and we stood around a lot, wondering what to do next.
Our frieds Will and Chuck were there, Will to help us out and give us a ride home, Chuck to help out and take a hound home with him. Trina, as she's now known, was one of our favorites, a skinny young female hound with a front foot that had broken and healed wrong. But, by all indications, she's headed for a great life. And, she's already had her first experience with snow!
As you can guess, the thought of at least one of these dogs going to a home with people, especially these people, hopefully starting a new life, has made us very happy. But still, it was hard to leave there. It was hard to grasp that this long intense trip was now over, and that these dogs were no longer our responsibility.
But, we did eventually leave and go home, and were duly inspected (and then snubbed) by Gus and Henry. God, did they look fat.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Wyoming, Part 1
Driving up through Colorado was uneventful, but crossing Wyoming would not be.
It was a windy drive across Kansas, the traffic not too bad but the motion of the U-Haul in that stiff crosswind a bit too rocky for my liking. Not exactly aerodynamic, those boxes on wheels. Still, it was a pretty easy stretch. And the way northwest through eastern Colorado was a breeze, relatively speaking. The weather stayed fair and the traffic never got too bad. The midday feeding went off with only slight frenzy, and there was only one crate to clean out, so we counted ourselves lucky.
Heading into Wyoming, the weather started to liven up and menace a bit more. It was getting dark and the wind picked up considerably, with thick clouds forming off to the west. Things were ok until we hit Cheyenne and headed west on 84. The U-Haul was suddenly battered around by heavy gusts, and traffic--especially semi trucks--was thicker and faster. Both got progressively worse as we entered the Medicine Bow National Forest and headed up toward the pass. It started to rain, and before long we were trudging along at an unsteady 50mph, blinded every 20 seconds or so by a semi screaming past at 70 or more. With every gust I fought to hold the truck steady, and it wasn't so easy. I expected to skid off the road. I'm surprised, honestly, that we didn't.
My dad tells a story of he and us kids fishing for salmon on Lake Michigan one weekend when the weather got nasty and the waves got big. He said we came in slow, jumping and dipping with the huge swells, easily the worst weather he or this boat had endured, and he found himself praying for us to make it in, that he wasn't entirely sure we would. I remember that day, but I don't remember it in that way. Now, though, I understand what he means by it.
I'd been feeling a bit less than good all day, and the worse I felt, the more dire the weather seemed. It was a damned terrifying drive from Cheyenne to Laramie. This was one of the very few times in my life where I found myself in a situation that I wasn't all that sure I could handle. Thinking you're in over your head and it's not just your own ass on the line is a scary thing. I wanted to stop. I didn't want to be responsible for this truck and all these dogs, miserable in the back, not to mention Cathy in the seat next to me. I just didn't want to do this anymore.
Of course, that's just stupid. We made it to Laramie and over dinner changed our minds 7 times or so on whether we should try to press on and get to Rock Springs, or at least to Rawlins. We finally decided not to, and we began the process of letting all the dogs out for the last time of the day, resigned to the trip not ending until Sunday (the horror!), when we got a visitor. I'd just sprung the Rott from his giant cage in the back of the truck--he became always the first to go after his big accident of the first day--when a youngish guy rolled up in a wheelchair, saying "Well, you've got a lot of dogs there." He was burly, with a beard and long hair in a ponytail and glasses. The Rott made for him immediately, and before I could properly hold him back he had his head buried in the guy's lap, shoving slightly for attention. It was pretty amazing. So I stood and talked to him for a while about the roads and the weather and our plan, and he offered to drive home and check the radar and come back and tell us what was going on.
He returned about a half hour later (we were not quite halfway through with the job at hand), saying that the storm looked to be breaking and it wasn't cold enough between Laramie and Rawlins to freeze. He told us that we could take route 30 around the Elk Mountain pass and avoid both the big elevation and most of the traffic--and all of the semis--at a loss of only a half hour ro so. So, we took his advice and set off, grateful for the help when we really needed it.
We made it to Rawlins after a much calmer ride of 2.5 hours or so. It still rained on us and snowed at our highpoint, but the roads weren't slick and the wind was not as severe, and there were no trucks. We got a room avertising AAA and free high speed internet. We got $2 off and a counter kid who didn't know we needed a code and couldn't figure out how to get it.
I took a shower, fan running, door closed, and swore the whole time I could hear dogs barking.
It was a windy drive across Kansas, the traffic not too bad but the motion of the U-Haul in that stiff crosswind a bit too rocky for my liking. Not exactly aerodynamic, those boxes on wheels. Still, it was a pretty easy stretch. And the way northwest through eastern Colorado was a breeze, relatively speaking. The weather stayed fair and the traffic never got too bad. The midday feeding went off with only slight frenzy, and there was only one crate to clean out, so we counted ourselves lucky.
Heading into Wyoming, the weather started to liven up and menace a bit more. It was getting dark and the wind picked up considerably, with thick clouds forming off to the west. Things were ok until we hit Cheyenne and headed west on 84. The U-Haul was suddenly battered around by heavy gusts, and traffic--especially semi trucks--was thicker and faster. Both got progressively worse as we entered the Medicine Bow National Forest and headed up toward the pass. It started to rain, and before long we were trudging along at an unsteady 50mph, blinded every 20 seconds or so by a semi screaming past at 70 or more. With every gust I fought to hold the truck steady, and it wasn't so easy. I expected to skid off the road. I'm surprised, honestly, that we didn't.
My dad tells a story of he and us kids fishing for salmon on Lake Michigan one weekend when the weather got nasty and the waves got big. He said we came in slow, jumping and dipping with the huge swells, easily the worst weather he or this boat had endured, and he found himself praying for us to make it in, that he wasn't entirely sure we would. I remember that day, but I don't remember it in that way. Now, though, I understand what he means by it.
I'd been feeling a bit less than good all day, and the worse I felt, the more dire the weather seemed. It was a damned terrifying drive from Cheyenne to Laramie. This was one of the very few times in my life where I found myself in a situation that I wasn't all that sure I could handle. Thinking you're in over your head and it's not just your own ass on the line is a scary thing. I wanted to stop. I didn't want to be responsible for this truck and all these dogs, miserable in the back, not to mention Cathy in the seat next to me. I just didn't want to do this anymore.
Of course, that's just stupid. We made it to Laramie and over dinner changed our minds 7 times or so on whether we should try to press on and get to Rock Springs, or at least to Rawlins. We finally decided not to, and we began the process of letting all the dogs out for the last time of the day, resigned to the trip not ending until Sunday (the horror!), when we got a visitor. I'd just sprung the Rott from his giant cage in the back of the truck--he became always the first to go after his big accident of the first day--when a youngish guy rolled up in a wheelchair, saying "Well, you've got a lot of dogs there." He was burly, with a beard and long hair in a ponytail and glasses. The Rott made for him immediately, and before I could properly hold him back he had his head buried in the guy's lap, shoving slightly for attention. It was pretty amazing. So I stood and talked to him for a while about the roads and the weather and our plan, and he offered to drive home and check the radar and come back and tell us what was going on.
He returned about a half hour later (we were not quite halfway through with the job at hand), saying that the storm looked to be breaking and it wasn't cold enough between Laramie and Rawlins to freeze. He told us that we could take route 30 around the Elk Mountain pass and avoid both the big elevation and most of the traffic--and all of the semis--at a loss of only a half hour ro so. So, we took his advice and set off, grateful for the help when we really needed it.
We made it to Rawlins after a much calmer ride of 2.5 hours or so. It still rained on us and snowed at our highpoint, but the roads weren't slick and the wind was not as severe, and there were no trucks. We got a room avertising AAA and free high speed internet. We got $2 off and a counter kid who didn't know we needed a code and couldn't figure out how to get it.
I took a shower, fan running, door closed, and swore the whole time I could hear dogs barking.
Somewhere in Kansas
It's a clear, sunny day and we're on the way again. Even though we've settled into a routine of sorts, the journey's still incredibly trying, and I'd be lying if I said I was handling it as well as I thought I would. It's hard to hear those dogs screaming and baying so hard and so long. It's horrible to have to shove them back into their cages after 5 or 10 minutes of freedom. It's tough not to lose your faith in humanity when you reach down to pet one of them and they hit the ground flat like you're about to beat the hell out of them. It's hard to just keep doing it, to keep going.
Last night, in a rest area in Kansas east of Hays, I lost my shit. Just lost it. I was tired and hungry, it was cold outside, we had earlier dealt with a dog in serious GI distress, shitting purple liquid and vomiting green foam, and hosed his crate out in a covert move behind Pizza Hut. It was a lot of work to feed and water the dogs. It took quite a lot out of me. Then a few hours later, in the cold and dark and windy Kansas night, it was time to let them out.
My frame of mind was bad. I was doubting whether all the dogs would survive the trip, the sick one especially, and I had to start the process by letting the Rottweiller out. He dragged me around for a while and did his thing, and then I tried to put him back in his crate. He didn't want to go. This is a dog that has the sweetest temperament, the nicest big lug disposition, and seemingly loves everyone. I pushed, and he held fast and turned to gave me a look that scared me to the bone. I backed off a bit involuntarily, and I grabbed a handful of food and tossed it into the crate. He followed it, and I closed the door, but it really shook me.
And there were still 15 dogs to go.
We did it, one at a time. Cathy had taken out the sick one, now called Flat Stanley, and tied him to a table where he sat silent and patient, watching us, uncomplaining, heartbreaking. There's a shiny little male black labby dog, tiny and stumpy and quiet, who is very good and calm when I take him out. He darts around sniffing, constantly looking up at me for approval or reproval, I'm not sure which, and when he does his thing, he gets a bit excited. So, squatting and fully and painfully erect, hunched over and spiny, totally freaked out, he's staring up into my face, his eyes wide and whites showing, a look of hesitant wonder on his face. When he finally finished and moved a few steps, I gathered the spare leash in my hand and bent and reached to pet him with my other hand and tell him good boy. As I reach, he squints hard and dives quickly to his right shoulder, paws raised in defense against the beating he was surely about to get.
"No, no, it's ok," I said, and he let me pet him and slowly loosened his muscles and opened his eyes. That's when I lost it. The tears came as I crouched down to dog level, petting the dog gently and steadily, saying "It's ok, no more hitting, it's ok, no one's gonna hit you anymore." And once I started, I couldn't stop. I said it was ok over and over, to myself as much as to him. I walked him a bit more after gathering myself, then led him back to his cage and put him in. No resistance, all resignation, and he turned in his cage, which was on the second tier, and pressed the top of his head against my chest in a very Henry-like gesture. He stood and I petted and stroked his head, and he let me, no fear this time.
And I still had 5 dogs to go.
I got back to work, releasing one dog at a time, taking them out, running and walking, petting and playing, occasionally getting choked up and hollow-eyed again, wearing down my spirit as much as my body.
When we were done we drove on, not getting very far before we stopped for dinner and for the night, around 10:30. I've never been so happy to see an Applebees. Steak and shrimp that went down like nothing, with a pint of beer behind it. Drained, we got a room and went straight to bed.
This morning, we were up and at it again at 7am, though we didn't get on the road until 10. Another long day ahead of us.
Last night, in a rest area in Kansas east of Hays, I lost my shit. Just lost it. I was tired and hungry, it was cold outside, we had earlier dealt with a dog in serious GI distress, shitting purple liquid and vomiting green foam, and hosed his crate out in a covert move behind Pizza Hut. It was a lot of work to feed and water the dogs. It took quite a lot out of me. Then a few hours later, in the cold and dark and windy Kansas night, it was time to let them out.
My frame of mind was bad. I was doubting whether all the dogs would survive the trip, the sick one especially, and I had to start the process by letting the Rottweiller out. He dragged me around for a while and did his thing, and then I tried to put him back in his crate. He didn't want to go. This is a dog that has the sweetest temperament, the nicest big lug disposition, and seemingly loves everyone. I pushed, and he held fast and turned to gave me a look that scared me to the bone. I backed off a bit involuntarily, and I grabbed a handful of food and tossed it into the crate. He followed it, and I closed the door, but it really shook me.
And there were still 15 dogs to go.
We did it, one at a time. Cathy had taken out the sick one, now called Flat Stanley, and tied him to a table where he sat silent and patient, watching us, uncomplaining, heartbreaking. There's a shiny little male black labby dog, tiny and stumpy and quiet, who is very good and calm when I take him out. He darts around sniffing, constantly looking up at me for approval or reproval, I'm not sure which, and when he does his thing, he gets a bit excited. So, squatting and fully and painfully erect, hunched over and spiny, totally freaked out, he's staring up into my face, his eyes wide and whites showing, a look of hesitant wonder on his face. When he finally finished and moved a few steps, I gathered the spare leash in my hand and bent and reached to pet him with my other hand and tell him good boy. As I reach, he squints hard and dives quickly to his right shoulder, paws raised in defense against the beating he was surely about to get.
"No, no, it's ok," I said, and he let me pet him and slowly loosened his muscles and opened his eyes. That's when I lost it. The tears came as I crouched down to dog level, petting the dog gently and steadily, saying "It's ok, no more hitting, it's ok, no one's gonna hit you anymore." And once I started, I couldn't stop. I said it was ok over and over, to myself as much as to him. I walked him a bit more after gathering myself, then led him back to his cage and put him in. No resistance, all resignation, and he turned in his cage, which was on the second tier, and pressed the top of his head against my chest in a very Henry-like gesture. He stood and I petted and stroked his head, and he let me, no fear this time.
And I still had 5 dogs to go.
I got back to work, releasing one dog at a time, taking them out, running and walking, petting and playing, occasionally getting choked up and hollow-eyed again, wearing down my spirit as much as my body.
When we were done we drove on, not getting very far before we stopped for dinner and for the night, around 10:30. I've never been so happy to see an Applebees. Steak and shrimp that went down like nothing, with a pint of beer behind it. Drained, we got a room and went straight to bed.
This morning, we were up and at it again at 7am, though we didn't get on the road until 10. Another long day ahead of us.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Texas to Kansas
The ice in the crates was a good idea. But, a mess to deal with. Ice turns to cold water turns to warm water, after all. Up in the cab of the truck, we knew that the dogs would be sitting in puddles, some of them water only, some of them water enhanced by fear and bad digestive systems, and we knew that we would have to clean out all the crates. This was not an attractive prospect, but it was unavoidable. So, at a rest area about 35 miles east of Dallas, in total darkness, we strapped on headlamps, opened the back of the truck to the usual cacophony, and set to work.
We released one dog at a time, Cathy taking the dog out into the grassy area to walk them and let them do their overdue business and to give them some personal attention, while I untied the crates, one at a time, and carried them out of the truck. Slippery, smelly, and dark, my headlamp the only thing allowing me to do this job, I'd set the crate down on the edge of the truck, jump to the ground, and then carry the crate off into the grass. I'd dump it out, clear out any rubbish or nastiness, give it a last shake, and then set it down, in line in order, and go back to the truck. I'd get out the next dog (no mean feat this, as they without exception charged the open door and required holding back in order to get a leash on) and lead it out into the grass on a leash as Cathy finished up with her dog and put it into a clean crate. Then she'd take the next dog from me and I'd go back to fetch its crate. Again and again, 16 times, we did this, one side of the truck at a time. When one side was complete and 8 dogs waited in the grass in their clean crates, we'd start to reload them, one at a time, tying them in as they were and checking their steadiness. Then, when they were all back in place, we moved to the other side of the truck and started again. This whole process took about two hours and gained us many strange looks and not too many friends among the truckers attempting to sleep about 100 yards away. We sent up quite a racket.
Afterward, thoroughly tired and coated in sweat and all manner of dog matter, we set out to try and get past Dallas. We did, negotiating the speedy traffic on the 6-lane highway through town, past Outback Steakhouse after Outback Steakhouse, and we spent the night in a Motel 6 north of North Dallas, sleeping like the dead with the dogs in the truck, the door propped partway open for air. The weather was nice at night, so we didn't worry about the mutts. We did worry about our fellow motel guests, but we asked for a room in the back and we got no complaints, so no one could have been too disturbed.
This morning we woke to the sound of dogs barking. Imagine that.
We were up and packed and out at 8, letting the dogs out two at a time, walking and running and drinking and crapping and doing what dogs do when released from a crate. Namely: going slightly nuts. These are all good dogs, all very happy when free, some very skittish, some incredibly thin, bags of bones and skin, but all good dogs. We're learning their personalitites already, and I can tell it's gonna be hard to drop them off and have them out of our lives. When it gets tempting to get mad at them, or yell at them to shut the hell up already, all it takes is a quick thought of what they've been through, how they may have been abandoned to the storm, and how they may have managed to survive, to quell the rising blood. We have no idea what hell they've endured, and when they look through the bars into our eyes, or they mash themselves up against our legs when we walk them, it's all I can do to hold it together and keep from turning into a blubbering idiot.
Now, they're clean(er) and dry, and we feel good about the shape they're in. As I write this Cathy's driving into Kansas, the dogs quiet in the back. It's 4pm, and in about an hour we'll stop and feed them. After that we'll give them some water and take off again. Then, after a couple hours, we'll stop again and let each of them out for a quick walk and some relief, then they're back in the crates for the night. We'll drive as far as I can manage, then stop for the night. We were hoping to make Denver by this evening, but everything seems to take longer than we've imagined, and I don't think we'll get there. I have a feeling it'll be late Saturday when we get home. That's ok, I suppose. It'd be nice to get back Friday, but we hadn't planned for it to be so hot yesterday or for tending to the dogs to take as long as it does.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
New Orleans
Yesterday, for the beginning of this grand and somewhat ill-conceived adventure, we couldn't have timed things worse if we'd tried. Our flight to Houston at 7am went ok, except for the fact that one of our 6 missed the connecting flight in Phoenix. From the Houston airport we even got to the U-Haul joint ok, the 5 remaining drivers in a mini-van cab. From there, though...
First of all we followed Yahoo! directions, which I advise no one to do. From 45 south we took the beltway paralleling the tollway into the middle of town, then turned back along 290 east, then realized we missed the ramp we needed, so went back and tried it again, but missed the proper lane, now in rush hour traffic in a very steady rain. Another lap around and we got it right, just in time to hit the parking lot of traffic. If there's one thing you don't want to do in a 17 foot U-Haul, it's get stuck in Houston rush hour traffic.
After braking and lurching our way through town, which took just this side of forever, we finally got out of there, and then had to negotiate a series of construction projects that had concrete barriers lining the lane, right where the lines should be, with no margin for error. In the dark, still raining, in a veritable convoy of semis. Nervewracking, to say the least.
The one good thing was that we stopped outside of Houston for some cajun food, Cathy tucking into a blackened snapper and grilled shrimp and me putting away a catfish po boy and a bowl of seafood gumbo. Delicious. And it'd be our only cajun food, even though we were going right into New Orleans.
Of course, we got to New Orleans right around midnight. The drive to the city was harrowing enough--dense fog, shit roads, a nasty drive in the middle of the dark night--and once we got there, it was just creepy. The city's under curfew and appears largely abandoned, so it was empty and dark, with few streetlights working and no road signs to speak of. The pea-soup night air made it all the moreso, though it did keep even the cemeteries out of sight. We didn't see much flood damaage on the way in, because we couldn 't see much of anything.
We got into the tent city around 12:30 after another call to a guy there named Raymond.
I stayed up a little while talking to Rick from Montana, who'd been there for about 6 weeks, since before the Guard got there. He told me of how New Orleans, wth all its destruction, was but a triopical storm compared to parts of lower Mississippi, which you won't hear about on the news. Towns obliterated, dead cows in trees, now hides and bones, along with houses, trucks, and coffins. Coffins, in trees. Amazing.
In the morning, at 6, after a night with not a single minute of sleep, we made our way to the shelter. Bleary-eyed and tired, I was ill prepared for this. Hundreds of dogs in makeshift runs, barking and baying and raising a racket unlike many I've heard.
We started to set up the trucks, loading crates into the back and tying them down in whatever system we felt best. Rope and bungee cords everywhere. It was a web of tie downs holding down a city of crates. How the hell would the dogs survive this trip? I had no idea.
Cathy made the rounds of the shelter, checking out the dogs, finding out who'd be coming and who would not, talking to the volunteers, while I busied myself with readying the crates. To be honest, this work kept me from confronting the scene behind the shelter where all the dog runs were. I took a walk back there when we first arrived, and I had a hard time of it. Beagles and hounds and Rotts and shepherds and all between, old and slow dogs and litters of new puppies, some emaciated and some healthy looking. So many dogs waiting to be claimed, to get out of this chain link nightmare and just friggin go home already.
Much to our pleasure we learned that we were to take all dogs at the shelter who were not already spoken for. Many had owners who had come already, found and claimed their dogs, and left them in the shelter's care until the time they could get back into their house, or get into a new place, or secure a trailer from FEMA where they could live and accomodate a dog. It must have been horrible to leave a dog behind here, but at least their dogs were alive and well and waiting for them.
The three trucks all departed separately, as once one was loaded up, all dogs accounted for, the paperwork had to be done. This took a while, but Dr. Hebert did a good job of keeping track of everyone and making sure the dogs would be counted and looked after. Medical history and all else were in this file, which we carry with us now.
We were the last truck to depart, and it was about 11:00 by the time we took off. This did not bode well, as when the fog burned off, the air got hot, and the back of the truck resembled nothing so much as an oven. It'd be slow-going, stopping about every hour to open the truck and air them out. At one point we put a bag of ice in each kennel, which did well to keep them cool for a couple hours, but also left a big puddle in every crate. Quite a mess, but in the end worth it, as each required cleaning anyway and this made it nothing more than dumping out some unsavory water and tossing the empty bags.
It was a long day with many stops, the frantic need to get north and away from the heat stymied by the incessant need to stop. But, there was no choice in the matter, so we settled into a frustrating pattern and chugged on.
First of all we followed Yahoo! directions, which I advise no one to do. From 45 south we took the beltway paralleling the tollway into the middle of town, then turned back along 290 east, then realized we missed the ramp we needed, so went back and tried it again, but missed the proper lane, now in rush hour traffic in a very steady rain. Another lap around and we got it right, just in time to hit the parking lot of traffic. If there's one thing you don't want to do in a 17 foot U-Haul, it's get stuck in Houston rush hour traffic.
After braking and lurching our way through town, which took just this side of forever, we finally got out of there, and then had to negotiate a series of construction projects that had concrete barriers lining the lane, right where the lines should be, with no margin for error. In the dark, still raining, in a veritable convoy of semis. Nervewracking, to say the least.
The one good thing was that we stopped outside of Houston for some cajun food, Cathy tucking into a blackened snapper and grilled shrimp and me putting away a catfish po boy and a bowl of seafood gumbo. Delicious. And it'd be our only cajun food, even though we were going right into New Orleans.
Of course, we got to New Orleans right around midnight. The drive to the city was harrowing enough--dense fog, shit roads, a nasty drive in the middle of the dark night--and once we got there, it was just creepy. The city's under curfew and appears largely abandoned, so it was empty and dark, with few streetlights working and no road signs to speak of. The pea-soup night air made it all the moreso, though it did keep even the cemeteries out of sight. We didn't see much flood damaage on the way in, because we couldn 't see much of anything.
We got into the tent city around 12:30 after another call to a guy there named Raymond.
I stayed up a little while talking to Rick from Montana, who'd been there for about 6 weeks, since before the Guard got there. He told me of how New Orleans, wth all its destruction, was but a triopical storm compared to parts of lower Mississippi, which you won't hear about on the news. Towns obliterated, dead cows in trees, now hides and bones, along with houses, trucks, and coffins. Coffins, in trees. Amazing.
In the morning, at 6, after a night with not a single minute of sleep, we made our way to the shelter. Bleary-eyed and tired, I was ill prepared for this. Hundreds of dogs in makeshift runs, barking and baying and raising a racket unlike many I've heard.
We started to set up the trucks, loading crates into the back and tying them down in whatever system we felt best. Rope and bungee cords everywhere. It was a web of tie downs holding down a city of crates. How the hell would the dogs survive this trip? I had no idea.
Cathy made the rounds of the shelter, checking out the dogs, finding out who'd be coming and who would not, talking to the volunteers, while I busied myself with readying the crates. To be honest, this work kept me from confronting the scene behind the shelter where all the dog runs were. I took a walk back there when we first arrived, and I had a hard time of it. Beagles and hounds and Rotts and shepherds and all between, old and slow dogs and litters of new puppies, some emaciated and some healthy looking. So many dogs waiting to be claimed, to get out of this chain link nightmare and just friggin go home already.
Much to our pleasure we learned that we were to take all dogs at the shelter who were not already spoken for. Many had owners who had come already, found and claimed their dogs, and left them in the shelter's care until the time they could get back into their house, or get into a new place, or secure a trailer from FEMA where they could live and accomodate a dog. It must have been horrible to leave a dog behind here, but at least their dogs were alive and well and waiting for them.
The three trucks all departed separately, as once one was loaded up, all dogs accounted for, the paperwork had to be done. This took a while, but Dr. Hebert did a good job of keeping track of everyone and making sure the dogs would be counted and looked after. Medical history and all else were in this file, which we carry with us now.
We were the last truck to depart, and it was about 11:00 by the time we took off. This did not bode well, as when the fog burned off, the air got hot, and the back of the truck resembled nothing so much as an oven. It'd be slow-going, stopping about every hour to open the truck and air them out. At one point we put a bag of ice in each kennel, which did well to keep them cool for a couple hours, but also left a big puddle in every crate. Quite a mess, but in the end worth it, as each required cleaning anyway and this made it nothing more than dumping out some unsavory water and tossing the empty bags.
It was a long day with many stops, the frantic need to get north and away from the heat stymied by the incessant need to stop. But, there was no choice in the matter, so we settled into a frustrating pattern and chugged on.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Why Not Us?
This week, early tomorrow morning, Cathy and I are embarking on what might be one of the biggest adventures of our lives. Here's the backstory:
http://www.idahostatesman.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20051105/NEWS01/511050338/1002
And here's what sealed the deal:
This past Saturday morning, Cathy read a story in the paper about a temporary shelter in New Orleans that is about to close. It's in a senior center, and they need it back, so the animals--loads of them, dogs, cats, and apparently all other manner of critter rescued from the wreckage of Hurricane Katrina--have to go. Some were starving, some blind, all in poor health, and the intervention of the National Guardspeople who retrieved them and brought them to this place saved them from certain death.
When the shelter was slated for closing, these folks along with the Humane Society organized a massive relocation plan. They've found places for the animals in new homes or in shelters. They got donations for vans and for plane tickets and hopefully for food and lodging. All they needed was people to do the driving.
It took a single phone conversation between Cathy and Sgt. Mike Spickelmier to convince my amazing wife that we were just the people for the job. I was skeptical, of course, but a single look at the photo above was all it took to convince me of the same.
No matter the questions about expenditure of resources or consequences to local pound populations or anything else: the thought of just abandoning these dogs, who have already been through so much, just because it's such a huge undertaking to relocate them, is not acceptable. I think of Henry in this dog's position and try to imagine him going through this and there's really no choice to be made.
We both called our bosses at home on Saturday and, miraculously, we got them on the first try. They agreed that this was important enough to do some schedule juggling. And that was that.
So, we fly to Houston Tuesday morning. There we'll pick up a van and drive it to the shelter in New Orleans. Says the Sgt: "We'll put you up in a tent and give you a hot meal before you leave Wednesday." So we have that to look forward to before taking off on a 3-day drive cross country with a truckload of dogs.
Neither of us really knows what to expect. What are bathroom breaks gonna be like with 2 people and 16 dogs? Can the dogs stay in their crates in the truck overnight? Or will we have to drive straight through? Are these animals strong enough to make the journey? We don't know any of these things, but we're going in prepared, and we'll figure it out as we go along.
This is an incredible opportunity to help, and we're very glad to be taking it. We're bringing a camera and a laptop along, so I hope to blog it as it happens. If not, I'll do it when we get back to Boise. So check in here and see if we've found wireless connections along the way.
http://www.idahostatesman.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20051105/NEWS01/511050338/1002
And here's what sealed the deal:
This past Saturday morning, Cathy read a story in the paper about a temporary shelter in New Orleans that is about to close. It's in a senior center, and they need it back, so the animals--loads of them, dogs, cats, and apparently all other manner of critter rescued from the wreckage of Hurricane Katrina--have to go. Some were starving, some blind, all in poor health, and the intervention of the National Guardspeople who retrieved them and brought them to this place saved them from certain death.
When the shelter was slated for closing, these folks along with the Humane Society organized a massive relocation plan. They've found places for the animals in new homes or in shelters. They got donations for vans and for plane tickets and hopefully for food and lodging. All they needed was people to do the driving.
It took a single phone conversation between Cathy and Sgt. Mike Spickelmier to convince my amazing wife that we were just the people for the job. I was skeptical, of course, but a single look at the photo above was all it took to convince me of the same.
No matter the questions about expenditure of resources or consequences to local pound populations or anything else: the thought of just abandoning these dogs, who have already been through so much, just because it's such a huge undertaking to relocate them, is not acceptable. I think of Henry in this dog's position and try to imagine him going through this and there's really no choice to be made.
We both called our bosses at home on Saturday and, miraculously, we got them on the first try. They agreed that this was important enough to do some schedule juggling. And that was that.
So, we fly to Houston Tuesday morning. There we'll pick up a van and drive it to the shelter in New Orleans. Says the Sgt: "We'll put you up in a tent and give you a hot meal before you leave Wednesday." So we have that to look forward to before taking off on a 3-day drive cross country with a truckload of dogs.
Neither of us really knows what to expect. What are bathroom breaks gonna be like with 2 people and 16 dogs? Can the dogs stay in their crates in the truck overnight? Or will we have to drive straight through? Are these animals strong enough to make the journey? We don't know any of these things, but we're going in prepared, and we'll figure it out as we go along.
This is an incredible opportunity to help, and we're very glad to be taking it. We're bringing a camera and a laptop along, so I hope to blog it as it happens. If not, I'll do it when we get back to Boise. So check in here and see if we've found wireless connections along the way.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Leaving Amsterdam
On the final day here, the weather has returned to normal. It's grey skies and misting rain outside, a fitting setting for my last walk along the canals.
Cathy hopped in a cab at 8 this morning for Schipol airport, as her flight left at 10:30. Since we booked separately to get one ticket with air miles, I'm on a later flight, not leaving until 4:30 this afternoon. I'll take the tram to Centraal Station and take the train out to the airport. From there it's a long trip back, and with the 8 hour time difference (racing backward against it) I'll be in Boise at 11:30pm tonight. Weird.
The weather may be contributing to the melancholy feeling I have, but it's also my leaving here that's got me a bit sad. We had a great time here, again, and I wish we had another week to take in the city and pretend we live here.
This morning I walked out Prinsengracht, one of the main canals, for quite a while, until the rain got a bit uncomfortable. I turned in toward the city center and retraced my trajectory on the parallel canal of Keizersgracht, all the way back to the Westerkirk church near where I'm staying. It was a great walk, just gaping at the architecture and watching people and bikes go by. I'm glad I had these last few hours here to get out among it again before going home.
It's always nice to get home and get out of a suitcase, but I'll miss it here. But, at least I know we'll be back.
Cathy hopped in a cab at 8 this morning for Schipol airport, as her flight left at 10:30. Since we booked separately to get one ticket with air miles, I'm on a later flight, not leaving until 4:30 this afternoon. I'll take the tram to Centraal Station and take the train out to the airport. From there it's a long trip back, and with the 8 hour time difference (racing backward against it) I'll be in Boise at 11:30pm tonight. Weird.
The weather may be contributing to the melancholy feeling I have, but it's also my leaving here that's got me a bit sad. We had a great time here, again, and I wish we had another week to take in the city and pretend we live here.
This morning I walked out Prinsengracht, one of the main canals, for quite a while, until the rain got a bit uncomfortable. I turned in toward the city center and retraced my trajectory on the parallel canal of Keizersgracht, all the way back to the Westerkirk church near where I'm staying. It was a great walk, just gaping at the architecture and watching people and bikes go by. I'm glad I had these last few hours here to get out among it again before going home.
It's always nice to get home and get out of a suitcase, but I'll miss it here. But, at least I know we'll be back.
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