As I sat on the plane taking off from Salzburg, I tried to convince myself that my shivering was a delayed reaction to the cold air….and that I was imagining the achy-ness that was starting to spread throughout my body. Despite it being a mid-day flight and having had plenty of rest the night before, I konked out and and slept the entire flight…the kind of sleep where I may or may not have been drooling. When we landed and I was still tired and noticed my throat was sore, I thought about how lucky I’d been to have not gotten sick yet during Teha’s Travels. And, also, how unlucky it was that this streak was apparently ending right as I headed to one of the the coldest places on the planet. Alas, to Finland I went! My travel companions were five new-ish friends, I’d meet on an amazing Flash pack tour of Morocco in September. As the story goes, one beautiful and sunny afternoon as we laid by the pool at the yoga-surf resort, a few of us discussed taking a short winter trip together. Someone suggested Finland…sure it might be a lil’ chilly in January but cold schmold! We could totally handle it. Another strawberry daiquiri, please! And, that was how that happened. 
So, several months later we all met up to board our flight to Ivalo, which is a remote place in Finland where the temperature was MINUS 25 degrees Celsius the day we arrived. I’m still working on how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit exactly, but any way you dice it, negative 25 is FREEEZING. Maybe the cold would decimate the germs causing whatever sickness I had percolating? Such wishful thinking! Here’s Daisy, the ringleader and travel coordinator of our crew:
The proprietor of our Ivalo accommodations, Henry, picked us up at the airport and drove effortlessly through the ice and snow covered roads in his sedan. SUV whhhaaattt??? We settled into our adorable little bungalow and bundled up for the 15 foot walk to the main building where we enjoyed the first of several home-cooked authentic Finnish meals. Yum!
So, the big draw for this middle of nowhere spot in Finland, is that you have an increased chance of seeing the mythical northern lights. Henry and company provided the service of knocking on our door to alert us to any lights (up until 11pm) so we wouldn’t have to sit outside waiting for them while turning into Walt Disney’s corpse. I learned there is some debate about northern lights viewing as it’s impossible to predict when they can be seen. Some companies apparently rip-off tourists by taking them on expensive northern lights viewing treks that don’t actually increase their odds of seeing them. It’s pretty hit or miss as far as I (or anyone can tell). Having discussed northern lights viewing strategies with several strangers on the voyage there (including the Finnish flight attendants on the plane) I had decided that the best time to see them was after 11pm, when no one was watching. Like spotting Santa Claus! Yet when we heard a knock on our door at about 9:30pm- I threw on my cold weather gear in about ten seconds flat and ran outside. Opinions differed on what it was that we actually saw at that juncture…I saw a greenish cloud streaming across the sky, that looked even greener if you took a picture of it. It was kinda cool, as far as green clouds go, but not what I was expecting for THE LIGHTS. 
We went back inside, feeling like we’d seen them (if not with our own eyes, it definitely appears we did if you look at a picture) and returned to a rousing game of Cards Against Humanity. As I’d promised myself, I geared up again at around 11:30pm for another check, convinced I had cracked the code by waiting until after 11pm…but, alas, there was nothing to be seen. Not even Rudolph! The next morning at breakfast we heard from another group that they went outside at 1am and the lights were in FULL EFFECT, “dancing across the sky!” Darn it- if only I’d checked a few more times before going to sleep! Oh well, can’t win ‘em all I guess. And at least we had that green cloud!
Unfortunately, I woke up the next morning feeling even more achy and chilled, with zero desire to get out of bed (zero was far warmer than the temperature outside, btw). Staying in bed, however, was not an option as far as I was concerned…it was snowmobiling day! With all the winter activities I’d enjoyed in my lifetime, snowmobiling was not one of them and I’d been dying to try it! I consulted Binay, the doctor in the group (and he’s actually a doctor!), and loaded up on over-the-counter meds that kicked in pretty quickly and at least made me forget I had a fever. We paired up on snowmobiles and got a tutorial from our guide, during which I was only half paying attention. The views around us were just so pretty and I was just SO excited! How to concentrate?!? 
My passenger, Danielle, and I boarded our vehicle and she asked if I knew what I was doing. Let’s hope so! I knew how to GO (most importantly) and also not to get too close to the snowmobile in front of us and to stay in the track created by the leader. No funny business, basically. 
I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED snowmobiling, and was in heaven as we cruised over the snow covered ice, passing a few adorable, remote lake-side houses. Throughout the three hour trip, the guide only had to stop twice to walk back to my snowmobile to issue me warnings. During the second warning he shook his finger at me, like a teacher scolding a student. I really couldn’t help it though! It was way more fun to cruise just a little bit to the side of the track, through the deeper, untouched snow and I didn’t think he would notice a few, small deviations…my bad. We stopped midway through the journey and disembarked our snowmobiles to warm by a fire deftly created by our guide, after he whittled tiny strips of birch off a branch (in the middle of a snow mound, as if creating a fire in the snow is like switching on a gas fireplace). As we trudged about 50 feet through the deep, fluffy snow to the fire area, I had the impulse to stop to make a snow angel and Daisy (our resident videographer, always looking for a good shot) asked if I had my camera handy. I handed it to her and then returned it to it’s holding place in my front pocket. 
Following the rest of the trudge (this snow was DEEP) we arrived at the fire. I reached for my phone to discover it was no longer in my pocket. Huge. Siiiighhhh. I knew my phone had to be somewhere along the 50 foot long path we’d created in the snow, so I diligently canvassed the area, scouring the WHITE snow, for my WHITE phone. And to make matters worse, the more I scoured the more new footprints I created, making it nearly impossible to tell where we had first walked. I didn’t say much during this search and rescue mission but knew that if I did not find my phone, it would be a royal pain in the *ss to get a new one (I knew this from a previous Teha’s Travels mishap when my phone had an unfortunate run-in with a defective dry bag while whitewater kayaking in Croatia…procuring a new one overseas was both a lengthy and expensive endeavor). My travel mates kept encouraging me to give up the seemingly futile search and join them around the fire before I froze to death (they didn’t say that last part but they later admitted thinking it) but I refused to give up. Don’t they look worried?
The the way I thought about it, my phone HAD to be somewhere along that 50 foot stretch of snow and while the chances might be slim that I would actually find it- there was a ZERO percent chance I would find it if I didn’t keep looking. So keep looking I did! Probably a good 30 minutes later, just when I was mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that my phone was probably gone…EUREKA! Miracles do happen! Our guide seemed shocked. The other members of my group seemed extremely relieved, most likely that they wouldn’t have to be dealing with the potential aftermath of sick AND phone-less Teha. I don’t blame them in the least! [Note: All’s well that ends well, although I do have to admit that the toes on my left foot have not felt quite the same since that frigid phone-hunting expedition…just an odd tingly sensation at times. But what’s a few toes….at least I have my phone!] 
I was on a high (from both snowmobiling and the found phone) that lasted until we got off the snowmobiles. I think the British Tylenol had worn off by then too and I was authentically chilled to my bones, wanting nothing more than to be in bed. Which is where I went…..and slept for hours (bundled in a hat, four shirts, three layers of pants and four pairs of socks). All was well worth it for the feeling of whizzing over the ice on the snowmobile! Sadly I missed out on the group’s Ivalo fun that afternoon:
That night we enjoyed a second Finnish meal, featuring none other than reindeer. I wasn’t sure about this but it actually tasted pretty good! I also enjoyed it in a soup the subsequent evening, where it had more of a smokey, bacony taste. The Finnish definitely have no qualms about eating Donner, Blitzen, and the gang. 
Same drill the next morning but on a different exciting winter adventure…dog sledding! I didn’t know what to expect on this excursion but once again it was incredible. It reminded me of that book “The Call of the Wild” by Jack London, that was pesky mandatory reading in high school. 
Danielle and I had our own sled (once again she was the passenger, I was the driver- roles we were both very happy with) and this time we had a whole fleet of energetic huskies that pulled us (and fast) through a beautiful winter wonderland-y forest. The sled driver wasn’t supposed to take videos but I couldn’t help it…at least I only had one warning this trip!
Our sledding adventure ended with tea and delicious salmon and potato soup around a fire. 
The next day we had a few hours to explore in the snow before heading off to Finland’s capital, Helsinki. I roamed around that morning and tried so hard to see a reindeer but no dice…just a lot of evidence that there were around (and likely hiding from my pink snow pants). 
These pants are actually my 92 year old grandmother’s back from her skiing days and she actually had a jacket to match! It takes a certain kind of person to rock pink ski pants like these ones and I can only hope to do them as much justice as Nan did!
We’d heard that Sundays were quiet in Helsinki and that it would be hard to find something to do. But I was starting to feel my fever subside and was excited to join the group to see what we could conjure up! We ended up at one of the few open estashments…Bar Base. I’m not sure what the Sunday night theme is there exactly but it was definitely locals night and was far from tame. 
We may not have understood much of the language but we had a blast! Funny headwear is known for breaking down language barriers.
The next morning we were up and at-em, following Binay who had seen a YouTube video on the top things to see and do in Helsinki. It seemed he recognized EVERYTHING we saw as the “#1 thing” from the video. But apparently an 18th century sea fortress called Suomenlinna was REALLY at the top of the list, so we took a ferry there (cruising through icebergs…like the titanic but, thankfully, more successfully). 
It was a FREEEEZING day in general and especially so on the blustery fortress island. Once again…hand warmers to the rescue! This fortress has some really cool history as it was originally constructed to protect against Russian expansionism and was created using a typical “star-shaped style of fortification” but adopted for a group of rocky islands. This construction methodology was apparently very successful as the sea fortress still stands in seemingly perfect condition and there are even about 800 year round residents. 
Back on the mainland we warmed up with lunch and speed-toured a few churches before ending up at a Boston bar (by accident, I swear!) where we played Finnish scrabble. 
There is a different ratio of consonants to vowels in the Finnish version of Scrabble and some letters are missing altogether. At one point Claire had 4 k’s in her letter bank! 
I have to say it was surreal sitting in Finland in a bar with Boston sports paraphernalia everywhere and with the Washington Capitals hockey game on TV! 
Before heading out on the town (aka back to Bar Base) for our final evening of the trip, we presented Daisy with a thank-you gift for organizing our adventures, which she totally rocked. 
Little did Bar Base know that it’s Twister night on Mondays! Daisy denies this was her doing but the rest of us are certain it was. 
Some final touring in the morning before heading to the airport to head back to London. There, we finally found the northern lights! 
The amazing Daisy already created a fantastic re-cap video of the trip, that you can view here.
As I boarded the plane to take me from Helsinki to London I got a message from a friend warning me it was the coldest week of the year in London, and it was only 3 degrees Celsius that day. I realized Finland had recalibrated my idea of what constitutes cold and happily settled into my seat, looking forward to the warm weather!
So, for ten days it was too cold to go outside for more than a few minutes…which resulted in a lot of time inside and lots of “opportunities” for family bonding. I had the option of two locations where I could participate in this bonding: my parents’ house (which includes my mom and dad) and my sister’s house (which includes my sister, Tobi, her husband, their three children, and two cats). Over the ten days, I found a great balance toggling back and forth between the two houses- the chaotic and exciting environment of Tobi’s and the relaxing and excitement-lite environment of my parents’. At my sister’s I loved hanging out with my adorable nephews, and especially meeting my brand new nephew, Theodore! How cute is he?!
I even came to enjoy the 7am wake-up calls of two shrieking jumping beans (named Felix and Hugo), who jumped on both me and the bed with MUCH gusto every morning I was there.
As much as I enjoyed this, I needed a break every few days and enjoyed the solace of my parents’ spot. I also loved spending some QT with my parents and was even there the day my dad came home from work for the last time before retirement. After so many years of grabbing his briefcase (and gym bag) and heading to the office, he was dunzo!
Now, if you who know me at all, you know that I have just a lil’ bit of energy and this being-stuck-inside thing was bound to have me bouncing off the walls. This could have resulted in a disaster over ten days [namely me going bonkers]. Have no fear… Planet Fitness to the rescue! This was a clutch move that contributed pretty significantly to the success of the visit…that and a few (short-lived) outdoor expeditions.
Despite the farewell blizzard I made it back to DC, where the next week and a half flew by and soon I was scrambling to pack the morning of my next adventure! Where am I going, you may ask? So…this trip kind of morphed along the way as I discovered that it’s super-cheap to travel to and around some European cities during cold and dark January. What a perfect time to hit up some new places! And after braving the New Hampshire weather, I was certain Europe would feel like Cancun.
Upon takeoff, the WOW flight attendant announced that most passengers on our flight were transferring in Iceland and heading to Europe. She also said that, despite the delay, she was “99% certain” that all the connecting flights would wait for us. PHEW! Then we landed…. and the same lady got on the loudspeaker to let us know that if you were headed to Stockholm or Berlin, well, those planes didn’t wait. 99% certain? How lucky of me to finally be a one-percenter!
It was there that all of the inmates were issued pink slips of paper (literally) with the name of the “hotel,” where we’d be staying. When asked about specifics, the WOW reps shrugged a bunch, repeated the fact that there were no more flights to our destination that day, and provided assurances that we’d be on the first flight the next morning. We were then ushered onto airport buses and driven to our “hotel.” During the drive we were quiet and defeated, looking like inmates not knowing where we were being taken, or for how long. We were dropped off at The Base “hotel” that was seemingly in the middle of nowhere…in snowy, dark tundra of Iceland.
I admit that I used the deadbolt to make sure no potentially assigned bunkmates could get in. By this time, it was 8am and still pitch black. I checked my phone and discovered that sunrise was scheduled for 11am and sunset for around 4pm. Yikes. I took a snooze and watched an episode of the Crown…and then it was light (only one light) out! But it was also lunchtime and I was hungry. We’d been told by the WOW reps that we’d be comp’d for all three meals that day. This meant we could spend 2,000 of Icelandic currency (I’ll call them ‘things’) on each meal. Unfortunately, this was not for use at the restaurant of our choice (not that there were any to choose from) and it was to be spent at The Base Hotel’s on-Base “restaurant” that was a 10-minute walk from the barracks. This was more of a trek than a walk, through the snow and ice….and on that day, also blustery winds. It would definitely have been very difficult for anyone with a physical impairment to get there.
Once I arrived, it was not surprising that the restaurant (more like a mess hall) was as strange as the rest of ‘the situation.’ I got a menu and realized that there was pretty much nothing I could purchase for 2,000 things (equivalent to $20). Shocker of shockers, I had to pay extra to get a chicken salad and soft-drink. It was clearly the Soviet-bloc ambiance I was paying for? At this point, I knew I had to do something that involved movement to survive this situation, but there was no Planet Fitness to be found. Instead, I embarked on a walk to the nearest “town,” that was about 2 miles away.
The scenery was beautiful, as it is in Iceland, but I had no idea where I was or where I was going, and was paranoid the sun would set at any moment (in which case I’d have been a real liability for WOW). I completed the walk (the ‘town’ was pretty much non-existent but there were some nice views on the way) and I returned to The Base “hotel” thinking it would be a long night. Here’s the town:
Then I remembered that the airport shuttle was picking us up at 3:30am, so the night would not be long at all. Phew! I trekked back out to restaurant (an extra-chilly venture after the sun was down!) got another chicken wrap (that was more than 2,000 things, of course) and headed to bed. I was surprisingly awake at 3am (I credit the time change) and, despite the early bell, folks on the bus were actually a little chatty this time! While at The Base “hotel” I’d enjoyed meeting Joanne from Munich at lunch and having dinner with Kenny from Chicago, and it seemed others had done the same. One sub-group of five strangers had even coordinated an excursion to the Blue Lagoon!
Danica’s amazing Mom, Marit, made a very smart decision to get out of dodge and take the train, in an effort to get to her elderly father and her daughter’s grandfather faster. We all exchanged information and hugged goodbye.
Hanna and I had officially met at 3:30am that morning, despite having crossing paths a few times at The Base “hotel”, at which time we were both in “what’s going on right now, eyes straight ahead” mode. Hanna is a creative, wise, and super-fun musician, who moved from Sweden to Baltimore three years ago. So, we’re practically neighbors and I have no doubt we’ll meet up when we’re both back in the area. Maybe meeting Hanna is the one thing I can give WOW credit for on this epic journey? Or maybe not. I actually suspect that we were just meant to meet and WOW had nothing to do with it 😊
So, at the end of the DAYS, my journey ended up taking 44 hours, which left me with about 16 hours to explore Stockholm before moving on to Brussels. I’ll fill you in on both cities in the next day or so. This is already so long… so much to say and congrats if you made it to the end!
So, I took off from Siam Riep and hopped over to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. After posting that I was in Cambodia I was informed by my friend, Mel, that Malaysia is close to Cambodia (yes, I actually own the bright yellow book “Geography for Dummies.” I haven’t gotten too far, obviously). I met Mel when I spent a college semester studying abroad at the Univeristy of Western Australia, in Perth. While I had many friends who also chose beautiful Australia as their study abroad destination, I was the only one who chose the most remote city on the planet as my home for six months. Literally, it is the most remote city on earth! A fact validated by John Glenn, who when he first orbited the earth reported that Perth was the only city he could differentiate from other cities. A distinctive and lonely grouping of lights, I guess? So, my college friends mostly lived in group houses in Sydney, with each other and other American students. Their experiences reminded me of the MTV show “Real World.” On the other side of the country/continent I lived in a “college,” one of several affiliated with the “uni” and it was a place where I slept, ate, and participated in a range of social activities with my new “mates,” who were mostly Australian, closely followed by residents of Singapore and Malaysia, a handful of POMs (Prisoners of Mother England), and just a few Americans. It was like I lived in the most down to earth (and all over the earth) fraternity, named St. Thomas More College. My time there was both formative and transformative, as it’s when I first had the opportunity to immerse myself in different cultures and gain perspectives that would forever alter how I viewed the world. I also made many friends who still (and will always) have a special place in my heart. It’s funny how six months of my life are still so important and impactful, many years later. I digress…so, my friend Mel was one of my St. Tommy’s mates who hailed from Malaysia. And when he reached out I jumped at the chance to check out a country I’d heard so much about over morning tea and vegemite toast 20-years prior. Here we were, at a uni ball (Mel is second from right): 
I was first impressed by the accommodation options in Kuala Lumpur- I stayed at a beautiful, centrally located Le Meridien for about $50 a night. No joke. Next, I was impressed with the infrastructure of the city. I whizzed through the huge and well-designed airport, to the efficient and well-designed high-speed train, only to be deposited in the main train station (in the torrential downpour). But before I could look up the address of my hotel on my phone, I saw a sign for it- in the train station! I followed the series of signs that took me through some walkways and overpasses and deposited me in the hotel lobby- having never been subjected to the outside elements!
Mel and I continued catching up the next day when he served as my tour guide extraordinaire and took me to the stunning Thean Hou temple, where there were multiple weddings going on (a popular nuptials destination and even an office on-site to procure a license.) 
We then swung by the Islamic Arts Museum, which is a beautifully designed building full of historical, fascinating, and aesthetically pleasing displays. There was a special exhibit about the recent trend of Australian fashion designers focusing on how to modernize/spice-up female’s traditional Muslim attire. Admittedly, I had never thought about fashion trendiness as an issue specifically for Muslim women before, but I totally get it.
After bidding Mel farewell (and promising our next meet-up would be in <20 years) I culminated my Malaysian experience with a tour of the massive Petronas towers. They are about as tall as I expected, although I did have the added advantage of having produced a documentary about “the world’s tallest twin towers” in my first post- collegiate job, with the Discovery Channel. At the time I felt like I knew TOO much about those twins from having edited hours of video! Alas, it was a very cool experience to finally see them live and in-person. 
My next stop was a quick swing through Thailand, as one does when traveling from Malaysia to London. I revisited my favorite beach from my one other time in Phuket- Nai Yang.It’s also the beach closest to the airport, which is especially convenient when you have less than 48 hours in your itinerary. This time I stayed at a hotel named “The Happy Place” and it lived up to it’s name. Some quality sun-time, several swims and beach-walks, a cheap and awesome massage,, and a few delicious meals later, I was off to chilly London. But at least I had a tan! 
My flight from Phuket to London (via Cologne) took way longer than I’d expected (having not paid attention to the flight times…hence my need for a geography boot camp). Anyways, many hours later I did arrive in London and connected with my host for the long weekend…the handsome and mostly funny Rob, who I’d met during my Flash Pack tour of India & Nepal two months prior. We’d kept in good touch since the tour and decided a visit was in order (it may have been a factor that at the time I’d thought Thailand was just a hop, skip, and a jump from his home city). Regardless, it was a great visit and I loved seeing London all decked out for Christmas. We went to a “Winter Wonderland” where I even got a view of the city from a Ferris wheel! This is a selfie from the Ferris wheel…guess I forgot to take a picture of the view 🤦♀️. 
Oh wait, here’s a London view shot- 
I also had a true British experience by attending a holiday celebration at Rob’s cricket club (btw, the only thing I know about cricket is that each match is 6-7 HOURS long. It makes baseball seem like the 100-meter dash). The theme of the cricket club party was the classic “ugly holiday jumper” (could this be more British?!) and Rob fully represented (although unclear if his jumper is for Thanksgiving or Christmas).
The next day I was sad to say goodbye to the handsome and mostly funny Rob (not so torn up about leaving his jumper) but time to move onward to D.C. for the holiday homestretch!
The front desk guy laughed when he saw me putting up the display and said he’d wait for the phone to start ringing. Okay, so there there may have been just a COUPLE of concerns from other building residents last year. Mostly because it’s possible that I was perhaps a smidge over-enthusiastic promoting holiday cheer via the use of “star showers,” which I used to project hundreds of lights onto the front of my building, making it look like the ENTIRE building was covered in strings of lights! It was SO COOL! (P.S. Some of the lights even blinked!) Well, apparently there are either a few Scrooges in my building or a few people who are annoyed by a couple of stray blinking lights projected onto their TV screens. Most likely both 🤨 Bottom line: I scaled it back this year, in true Bah-Humbug fashion.
I joined my friend Sarah and her family for a lovely Christmas dinner at her parents’ house on Capitol Hill and when I got home I decided a Christmas Day viewing of ‘Love Actually’ was in order. This is mostly because I’ve heard (about a trillion times) what a fantastic holiday movie it is, and I’ve disputed this, as I was NOT a fan. Some of my friends are incredulous about this harsh, and sometimes divisive, reality.
Le gave us the full-scoop on the sitch and for the first of many times on my tours of Vietnam and Cambodia I realized that the history I’d been taught in school wasn’t entirely accurate. I knew of Ho Chi Mihn from history class, mostly in reference to his communist regime and his trail. I guess I didn’t have a warm and fuzzy about him as a result of these associations but honestly hadn’t given it all that much thought. Le educated us as to the real deal, from his perspective, and it seems Ho Chi was a hero of sorts to the Vietnamese- a stand-up guy who lived a modest life, refused to live the garish lifestyle to which he was entitled, and authentically had the best interest of “the people” in mind, without the corruption that has been rampant in Communist regimes since. It was interesting that as we sat on the curb across the well-guarded street from the Mausoleum, and while Le sat in front of us explaining the site, he was admonished by an officer for having his back to Ho Chi. 
Le looked surprised before rotating his position, but not too surprised as it seems rules are both created and enforced kinda willy-nilly in Vietnam these days. Le also shared that he has to be careful what he’s telling us when in public or around others as free speech does not seem to be encouraged by the government, sadly. In fact, while we were there I saw on news flash (from the U.S.) that a Vietnamese blogger had just been sentenced to seven years in jail for writing about an environmental disaster (a disaster that had really happened but the government didn’t want shared publicly). Le assured me that my Teha’s Travels post on the trip would not have any negative ramifications but I chose to err on the side of caution and wait until I was out of the country to post this.
We then cruised back to the city, made a stop at Le’s house, AND even got to meet his parents! They welcomed us with tea and fresh pineapple and bananas that they had grown, of course. 
That evening there was no rest for the weary as we prepared to board an overnight train that would take us north. Having only taken day trains I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was actually quite nice! We stayed in sleeper cars with two bunk beds in each room. It reminded me of summer camp- minus the pillow fights. 
While some in the group reported not reaching REM sleep cycles (or any sleep cycles), the movement of the train lulled me right to sleep. We arrived in beautiful Sapa just in-time for breakfast and then embarked on a spectacular hike- the adrenaline from the views making even the sleepless forget they were supposed to be tired. 
Our smily and charismatic hiking guide, Meg, deftly navigated us through the windy mountains, covered in lush rice patties, smatterings of villages, and the occasional buffalo. 
Meg led us on another hike the next day and we swung by the remote hut/house where her grandfather lives, along with a bunch of aunts, uncles and cousins. Meg herself lived in the three-roomed hut for four years as a child, as her family needed whatever money she could bring in from selling bracelets and other woven items to tourists in the surrounding area. She did return to school, but not for long, and while her English is perfect, she admits not knowing how to read or write…but is working hard to make sure it’s different for her 6 year old son. Here she is with her grandfather:
We relaxed that afternoon before hopping on the Night Train back to Hanoi (‘Midnight Train to Georgia’ kept going through my head- the Indigo Girls version). Then in true Trains, Planes, and Automobile (& boats) style we headed to the airport for a quick flight only to have a chariot (aka bus) scoop us up and deposit us at our home for the next two days…a junk boat cruising through Halong Bay! Let me be clear that we were definitely not roughing it, as we were aboard a very non-junky vessel, where we enjoyed delicious and beautifully presented meals, sunshine on the top decks, and a kayak trip among the dozens of “islands” that are ginormous rock formations. 
That evening we also had a cooking lesson (on the lido deck, of course) on how to make spring rolls. 
Okay…now is the time to admit that I had a bit of a love affair with spring rolls on this trip- the fried version worked but my favorite are actually the fresh version with rice paper. I can safely say that I ate dozens of them during the two week trip. I also know 13 people who can validate this fact. Here’s a sampling of one of my typical breakfast plates:
The evening brought some authentic group bonding through karaoke…while it took us a few minutes (and several drinks) to get going- we did not disappoint. Although we may have disappointed the residents of the surrounding boats docked for the evening who were looking to go to bed early!
Please note the mic of the bike tour guide…and he used it every time he spoke even though the amplification it provided (if any) was extremely negligible. We also took a cooking class and learned how to make THE MOST delicious fish, seasoned with a mixture of fresh spices and wrapped in banana leaves before being cooked over the flame of a large outdoor oven. 
It was scrumptious and while we were given the recipe, I have doubts about my ability to replicate it using bottled spices, tin foil, and the stand-up George Forman grill I have on my balcony. Alas, I will try!
Our visit to Ho Chi Minh city started on a somber note with a visit to the Remembrance museum, which commemorates the “People’s War” (what the Vietnamese call the Vietnam war). As difficult and emotional as it was to see and take in, it was such an important part of the trip for me as I increasingly realized how gaping the holes in my knowledge of the war were and the sad realities I was protected from. The hardest part to see was an exhibit on the effects of Agent Orange on the Vietnamese people. The exhibit consists of large photographs and short biographies of some of the many Vietnamese who were born with horrific birth defects as a result of the chemical warfare. These poor children (many now adults) have unconscionable deformities yet many have worked hard to lead accomplished lives, despite receiving very little (if anything) in reparations for their suffering. I was saddened to learn that the impacts of Agent Orange can be passed down to future generations and that there are now third generation children suffering. I have to admit that I was truly embarrassed to be an American as we went through the museum and each exhibit demonstrated more of the devastation the war caused. 
The next day my education about the “People’s War” continued with a visit to a location close to the Cambodian border where many of the underground tunnels were located. Again, I must admit my ignorance as to the magnitude of these tunnels. And by magnitude I mean how many of them there were and how long they extended (hundreds of miles!), not the size of the actual tunnels. Let me be clear- the tunnels are TINY- here’s an entrance to one! 
I would venture to guess that 96% of American adults would not have been able to fit into a tunnel. Maybe closer to 98%, actually, given current obesity rates. My fabulous roommate, Rachel, fit perfectly though! 
We got to walk/crawl through a faux tunnel designed to give tourists a better sense of the experience but with the HUGE caveat that the amusement park version was three times bigger than the real deal, and that the actual tunnels were pitch black. And apparently the tunnels weren’t just for cruising around- people, entire families, actually LIVED in those tunnels to stay protected from bombings, and for long periods of time. To say I can’t even imagine what that was like is the understatement of the century. During the tour we could have walk-crawled further in the faux tunnel system but we all opted to get out as quickly as possible. It was hard to be in there- and I’m not even claustrophobic. And, while in the tunnel I flashed-back to family vacations as a kid when my siblings and I would complain about too much “family togetherness” sharing a hotel room or small beach rental. I then learned about the ultimate demonstration of family togetherness, tunnel-style, as there were several babies born in the tunnels! Le said the “tunnel babies” had a reunion recently and he got to meet one of them.
Soon we were off to Phnom Penh, the capitol city. One of the many reasons Keasar was an awesome guide is that he gave us the real scoop on his native country, as difficult as I know it was for him to share. As we drove into the clean, built-up, and somewhat glitzy capital city we noted it was a far cry from the scenery along the sparse, dusty roads that got us there. 
K explained that the current government in Cambodia is quite corrupt (similar to how Le described Vietnam) and that he would have to be careful about where he could talk to us about the real deal- it would probably be mostly on the bus. K informed us that Phnom Penh does have some money, or at least they’re putting money into things like huge statues and portraits of the king, but, in reality, it’s more of a facade to convince the rest of the world that the country is doing really well. Here’s the current King…he’s everywhere! 
In reality, we learned, the country is not doing really well. In fact, the majority of the country is poor and 70% don’t have access to piped water. In addition, due to the mass killings during the war in the 1970s, 65% of the population is currently under the age of 25. [Side note- in case you aren’t familiar with the nitty gritty of the Cambodian war, as I was not- approx 1/4 of the population- TWO MILLION people- were killed in massacres by the Communist regime, the Khumer Rouge. Yes, I told you I learned a lot of harsh realities on his trip…but I’m glad I did]. Keasar also shared that there is a lot of fear right now as children aren’t being educated properly (or at all) and aren’t being told anything about the country’s tragic history…things the country can learn from. Given that youngsters are the majority in the country, this is especially concerning. K is not the only one terrified that if things don’t change, history will repeat itself. He’s doing more than his part by starting a school in the remote village where he grew up (and where both of his parents were tragically killed as a result of the conflicts when he was a young boy). The school focuses on teaching English to the village children as K feels this skill is essential to avoiding an insular future and establishing a global presence. K relies on volunteers (some from his tours!) to teach at the school for whatever periods of time they can spare and provides a bedroom with a local family. I have to admit I’m very tempted…
My tour-mate, Anne, gave a donation to one survivor and bought the books of the other two and said “I don’t know that I can even bring myself to read them but I just don’t want them to have to tell those stories again.”
Several areas were marked- one as a location of a mass grave where 150 women and children had been buried naked…the majority had been beheaded. Next to that grave was a large tree covered in friendship bracelets. It was marked “the killing tree” as children had been tied to a rope and thrown against the tree over repeatedly before being deposited in the grave. 
There were also markers where the sound system speakers were located- to drown out the noise from the killings. In the middle of the fields there’s a large memorial, filled with skulls from the victims, each labeled with if they were male or female and how they died (bayonet, bullet, iron tool, etc.) There aren’t words to describe the feeling of looking at all those skulls, in the middle of the field, while in a beautiful country where every person you’ve met has been incredibly warm and welcoming.
Needless to say, we were all a little/lot emotionally exhausted and somewhat shell-shocked after our morning. We had some time to chill-out and process that afternoon before embarking on an evening boat cruise up the river, where we passed by many floating houses/boats full of families waving excitedly at us. I couldn’t help think that maybe I’d get sick of tourist boats, blasting music, cruising by my home but everyone seemed excited to see us.
The next day we embarked on our final trip, to Siem Reap. There we had an o’dark thirty morning where we got up at 4 AM to see Angor Wat at sunrise (totally worth it).
Don’t we look chipper for having had such an early bell? 
We also toured a few other spectacular temples in the area (including one where they filmed the Tomberator apparently) and saw a gorgeous sunset from the top of one massive temple. 
In each case I was in awe of the grandeur of the ancient structures and the detail that adorned them. 
On the final day of the tour (boo!) I took an optional tour of a “floating village,” of which there are apparently hundreds. And we’re talking about real villages, complete with schools, temples, stores etc. The water levels vary based on the season and rainfall but most of the time the village is truly floating and boat is the only way to get around. It was one final awe-inspiring glimpse into the Cambodian culture and the spirit of the people who make it so. 
Saying goodbye at the end of the tour is always the worst part (without a doubt) and this trip was no exception, although I’ve learned that “we’ll stay in touch, for sure!” isn’t just something Flash Packers just say. I’ve been happy and impressed by how well previous groups have stayed in touch, via What’s App groups, in-person get-togethers and even planning future trips together! This knowledge made it easier to bid farewell to my new friends, with whom I’d shared some intense, eye-opening experiences and also some really fun times. 
Whew! Yes, my time home may seem like a whirlwind. Yes, my time home was definitely a whirlwind. No, I am not complaining. I swear!!! (My friends have banned me from complaints of ANY sort while living my current Teha’s Travels lifestyle. I get it, I get it.)
Lucky for us Felipe is actually from Valpo and he deftly led us through the charming streets that include a variety of architectural styles within the French, German, and British influenced neighborhoods. Here’s Felipe in action! 
We enjoyed a lovely rooftop lunch before traveling on to the beautiful Bodega winery. (Btw, I’m slowly finding myself using more British words like “lovely” and “brilliant,” which I blame the influence of my travelmates from Mother England. If only the accent would rub off too!).
The rosè was especially delicious and was a blend called Pinotel that is a blend of Pinot Noir and something else I can’t remember. After the tasting we sat outside and enjoyed a final glass of wine before heading back to Santiago for dinner and pisco sours (Chile seems to be poaching Peru’s drink. No complaining here, though…not that I’m allowed to complain anyways).
The ride even had entertainment as my tour-mate, Dan, was behind me in the line of horses…waaay behind me. 
His horse had a bad-ass name (Conquistator or something like that) but didn’t seem to respond to any sort of kicking or cajoling by Dan to move along (or at least the way he was doing it). Dan was the “class clown” of the group as he was always laughing, often at his own jokes (even when nobody else was) and he took the horse situation in-stride, albeit with nonstop laughter. Even the guide seemed amused by the situation. Meanwhile my horse, named Wheat (because of it’s wheat color- so not creative or bad-ass) was totally on it, even trotting at times! Here’s the dynamic duo of Dan and Conquistador (aka the Caboose).
That afternoon was truly spectacular as we embarked on two hikes- one to Moon Valley (that really looked and felt like you were on the moon) and Death Valley (that was not as scary as it’s name but was stunning and we got to run down the way dunes into the valley!). 
The bright Chilean sun enhanced our adventures- it’s so blue and brilliant in it’s hue and so different from the sunlight I’ve seen anywhere else. Chile should really be an Instagram filter…you heard it here first. Perfect background for silly photos opps (our specialty!) 
Our senses were on overload when the day ended with a fantastic sunset viewing, completed with a vino toast (thanks to Filipe!). You don’t see sunsets like this everyday. Or, really, any day. 
And the day was not over yet! We grabbed street-stand empanadas for dinner and were jettied off to a “stargazing experience.” This was in the middle of nowhere, where you see more stars than you thought existed (for the record 2,000 are up there each night, we were told). We stood under the night sky in a circle as our guide (a real jokester) walked us through the various constellations we could see from the southern part of the Southern Hemisphere. Who knew there was so much fodder for comedy in the world of constellations?! Between him and Tina’s equally funny quips my stomach hurt from laughing the next day (it was already sore from horseback riding). Comedian stargazer also used a laser pointer to show us on the ground where the “missing” stars (such as the North Star) were located. I saw four shooting stars throughout the night and had to think fast to come up with wishes! At the end we got to look through six massive telescopes, each pointed to various stars/constellations we’d learned about. I took a picture of the beautiful star-filled sky but it didn’t quite do it justice. 
We continued on to some thermal baths (as one does) and took in the views while decompressing in the naturally warm water. The rest of the day consisted of the group engaging in a collective combination of sand boarding, relaxing at the pool, shopping in the town, dinner, drinks, karaoke, and Jenga. 
Really something for everyone and we enjoyed sharing our experiences (and photos and videos) with each other on the bus the next day, as we embarked on a travel day to the Lake District. We arrived early enough to take a boat ride across the spectacular lake directly in front of our hotel and walk back along the shoreline that consists of volcanic ash from an eruption in 2015. 
I’d never walked on volcanic ash before and became even more familiar with it on our stunning hike two days later (during which I realized I should have brought hiking boots as the packing list indicated- my sneakers/trainers were moon boots by the end- as I dumped out loads of what looked like moon dust).
The highlight (for me) was when I got to fork over my paddle and sit in the very front of the boat as we cruised through an intense set of rapids. It was like I was a hood ornament on the raft! 
At one point on the trip we (meaning the guides) pulled the boats over and led us to a cliff we could jump off of. This was not like regular cliff jumping, as you were landing in rapids. We were told to do a “pencil jump” directly in front of the cliff so you land in the slightly more calm water and can swim quickly to the shore. One of the guides stood on the cliff giving instructions and the other was on a rock in the water with a rope to throw if a rescue was needed. Which it was. For one person. One guess as to who? 
Okay, so in looking at the photographic evidence it’s clear that I was over-zealous in my jump and did pretty much the furthest thing from a pencil jump. As a result I landed pretty far out in the river and (according to the bystanders) directly in a fast-moving rapid. I sensed this when underwater as it took me longer than expected to rise to the surface. At that point I turned to swim to shore and realized it was quite far away and I was moving quickly away from it. Then there was some yelling and a rope being thrown towards me. Thankfully the rope was just long enough for me to grab it and be pulled to safety. 
Phew! Those rapids are not something I would have wanted to experience sans boat.
In addition to being environmentally friendly, it was also a fabulous hot tub experience- Goldilocks style. The water was not too hot, not too cold…but was juuust right! Love it when fairytales translate to adult hot tub experiences.
We boarded a boat the next morning that would kick-off a full-day “glacier hunting” expedition via various watercrafts and deposit us at our new accommodations (further south) at the end of the day. And then bar was raised YET AGAIN. I kid you not. 
We also got to see penguin-like birds up close in one area and a bunch of sea lions hanging out on a rock in another. Apparently the sea lions are only visible on that rock a few times a year, so we were lucky! 
Our group was actually told many times throughout the trip that we were lucky- our various hikes all seemed to happen on “the first nice day” in a while and had crystal clear views that we probably took for granted. In each place we stopped the local guides would thank us for bringing the good weather and beg us not to take it with us.
We had waaay too much fun in the orange outfits.
And the views…especially from the viewpoint peak where there’s a turquoise blue glacial lake surrounded by massive rock peaks and cliffs (this was a pleasant surprise for me, of course, but others seemed to know it would be there). This is Tina, Dan, me, and The Amazing Karen- for whom this hike was the 52nd in a 52 hike challenge she’d been doing!
We gave Flash Pack a lil shout-out from the summit. 
It’s fair to say we were all pretty beat after 10 hours of trekking but our high from the experience lasted for days. Here we are in the bus, post-hike. 
Good-byes were sad, as always, but easier this time as several of us were staying for another night (for me this was bc flights were cheaper if I waited a day). My Chilean partner in crime (Aussie Tina) was also staying, so we shared a room. Aussie Tina and I are very much alike (minus the fact she owns her own business and I don’t even have a job) and we always have a ton of fun together. Someone in the group said we should have our own YouTube channel as she thinks it would be a big hit. I think I’ll hold for now on the “Tina-Teha Show” pilot. The world isn’t ready yet. 
The nine of us remaining spent our post-tour day touring and eating our way through Santiago (I admit we were a bit lost at first without Filipe shepherding us around). We hit up the art museum and sculpture garden before enjoying lunch at Santiago’s only Vietnamese restaurant (thanks Tina!). 
Three more in our group then departed (boo!) and the “then there were six” crew enjoyed a last-last supper from a rooftop bar while taking in the sites and sounds of the city (including 80’s music). Note: Ever since Chile transitioned to a democracy in 1990 and people could freely listen to music again, the Chileans have been obsessed with making up for lost time and the music they missed in the 80’s. It’s pretty much all they play- no complaints here!
