<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:20:21.965-07:00</updated><category term='hats'/><category term='budget travel'/><category term='knitting'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='gloves'/><category term='accessories'/><title type='text'>Travels with Darubini</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3339165433177927097</id><published>2007-05-10T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T12:52:32.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the USA...</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm home, with all the good and bad things that brings.  Getting home, however, was a bit of an adventure.  I had decided I wanted to stay one more night in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Taupo&lt;/span&gt; and would then just take a bus to Auckland the next day and head straight to the airport.  However, I didn't realize that there weren't any buses leaving early enough to get me to the airport in time.  I wound up catching the 1:50 am bus from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Taupo&lt;/span&gt;, arriving in Auckland around 7 am. Oh, the joys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After stashing my luggage in the lockers at the bus station (such a wonderful thing) I decided to get breakfast and walk around Auckland for the day.  It's a big city, home to almost 1.2 million of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; 4 million people.  That said, however, I didn't see a single person on the street composing on a blackberry or talking into one of those ridiculous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bluetooth&lt;/span&gt; headsets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wandered around the main streets and people watched.  And bought some more jewelry.  I did not expect to like the aesthetic and design in NZ nearly as much as I did, and my fascination with the arts community came as a big surprise.  My favorite store was one called Fingers, devoted entirely to contemporary NZ Jewelry.  Here I found this amazing necklace composed of a the shell of a black pebble.  The inside had been completely hollowed out through several round holes in the surface... think of a hollow 3-D piece of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Swiss&lt;/span&gt; cheese.  So cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the airport and on the plane were pretty uneventful.  I had fun buying another 2 bottles of NZ wine at the duty-free shop, and then managing to shove them undetected into my luggage when I passed through customs in LA.  I was lucky to have an empty middle seat in my row, and the entertainment on demand system on the Qantas 747 planes is awesome.  You can play any selection you want, at any time, and can even pause and rewind it if you need to get up.  I even watched a short documentary about the discovery of Penicillin.  Really, it was a shame I needed to sleep on this flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got blankets and a pillow, and really the customer service on the flight was excellent.  The only thing definitely not up to par was my vegetarian meal; I just can't win.  Last time I didn't request one and of course the entree choices were chicken and beef.  I figured I should be safe when flying an Australian carrier (with their meat-based cuisine and all), so of course this time they had a fish option.  I requested a regular vegetarian meal, but received a vegan one, complete with potatoes, asparagus (not so bad), tomatoes, tofu, margarine, and this vile gelatin concoction they tried to pass off as dessert.  For the thousandth time I wonder why they assume vegetarians are health freaks.  Breakfast was 1000 times worse: another asparagus and potato concoction with a stale bread roll, when I would have been perfectly happy with the cereal and milk they were serving.  Maybe I should just take my chances from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at LAX and was, for a fee, able to get on another flight leaving almost 9 hours earlier than the red-eye I was scheduled on.  We had a layover at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;O'Hare&lt;/span&gt;, but I was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; to be getting home in time to sleep in my own bed (and see the kitties, of course).  My parents met me at the security &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;entrance&lt;/span&gt; with flowers (very sweet of them), and I'm pretty sure the kitties remember who I am, so all is well.  Now if I could only get my body on EST!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3339165433177927097?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3339165433177927097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3339165433177927097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3339165433177927097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3339165433177927097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/05/back-in-usa.html' title='Back in the USA...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6423992865133953658</id><published>2007-05-06T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T22:39:49.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All good things must come to an end</title><content type='html'>Well, it's finally arrived: my last full day in NZ, and the end of my 3 month travelling adventure.  Sometimes it seemed as though this day would never arrive, but it's managed to sneak up on me rapidly nonetheless.  Part of me realizes that it's time for me  to be an adult and begin the next  phase of my life: as a vet intern at the university of Illinois.  But another part would be happy being a vagabond for quite a while longer yet.  After all, when I begin my veterinary career, I may never again have the chance to travel like this.  And I know how lucky I am; many Americans have neither the opportunity (nor the desire, for some) to wander in the eastern and southern hemispheres.  There is no comparison between taking a 1-2 week vacation and having the time just to wander and see where chance and fate may lead you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people I met thought I looked 4-5 years younger than my actual age, which I hope was the truth and not an empty compliment or negative comment on my maturity level.  It does make me wonder, however, how much the next year of my life will age me, both mentally and physically.   Guess I should take before and after photos to tell for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitties, here I come.  And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paka&lt;/span&gt;, stop using the upstairs bathtub as a litter box, no matter how much you like being up there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6423992865133953658?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6423992865133953658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6423992865133953658' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6423992865133953658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6423992865133953658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/05/all-good-things-must-come-to-end.html' title='All good things must come to an end'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-8694317073431257357</id><published>2007-05-05T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T23:11:09.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tongariro Crossing</title><content type='html'>Today I did "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; best one day hike", entitled the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tongoriro&lt;/span&gt; Crossing.  It is 18.5 km one way and is described as "challenging", taking 7-8 hours to complete, passing through some of the most scenic and active volcanic areas of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tongoriro&lt;/span&gt; National Park.  It was challenging, although thankfully only for about the first three hours.  Unfortunately the mist and wind precluded great views from the summit, but as a slow walker, even I was able to complete the track in about 6.5 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The track begins by winding up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mangatepopo&lt;/span&gt; Valley from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;carpark&lt;/span&gt; to an area called Soda Springs.  When the mist clears, we could get brief but tantalizing views of Mt. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ngauruhoe&lt;/span&gt; (that's "Mt. Doom" for any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LOTR&lt;/span&gt; fans out there).  Then came the start of the Devil's Staircase, a very steep rocky path through the saddle between Mt. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tongariro&lt;/span&gt; and Mt. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ngaururhoe&lt;/span&gt;.  It's funny, when I was climbing this and kept getting passed by the hikers behind me, a passage from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Maintenance&lt;/span&gt; came to mind.  It goes something like "Mountains should be climbed slowly and without desire."  I found that the more I wanted to hike fast and get this part over with, the more frustrated I would become.  But when I acknowledged that I was a slow walker, especially with asthma, and just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, the ascent became more manageable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once over the Devil's staircase, we entered the south Crater, which reminded me of what the surface of the moon might look like.  It was completely flat and huge, the remnant of a long-ago volcano.  Then came the red crater ridge, which was not too difficult until we reached the top of the Red Crater and were met with howling winds.  The swirling mists and fog made it impossible to see anything, and the wind almost forced you to keep walking up the track, lest you be blown off into the crater.  Apparently the top of the red crater can be a great place to have lunch in nice weather since there are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hotspots&lt;/span&gt;, but my goal was just to get down as fast as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are rewarded, coming off the crater, with views of three magnificent emerald lakes (smelling of sulfur, of course).  The walk through the central crater is lovely and would bring you views of the blue lake, if we could see anything :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remainder of the walk was frankly anticlimactic after the climb and the winds at the beginning.  The track descends around the northern slope of Mt. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Tongoriro&lt;/span&gt; and descends in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;zig&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;zag&lt;/span&gt; to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ketetahi&lt;/span&gt; hut, where I had the remainder of my lunch (cold pizza, yum!!).  From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Ketetahi&lt;/span&gt; hut, it's 1.5-2 hours to the end of the track, and the end is a bit of a green tunnel through the f&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;orest&lt;/span&gt;.  Most interesting about this part was the evidence of recent trail reconstruction.  There were several workers on the track, and huge bags of gravel and rock that had probably been dropped in by helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not perfect weather, but a great walk nonetheless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-8694317073431257357?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/8694317073431257357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=8694317073431257357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8694317073431257357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8694317073431257357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/05/tongariro-crossing.html' title='Tongariro Crossing'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-9126258627893385918</id><published>2007-05-04T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T23:12:37.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the North Island</title><content type='html'>After a crazy night out in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;, it was time to head to the North Island for the last few days of my  trip.  I caught the local bus to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt; airport, and was left with far too much time to kill in a place with only a few terminals.  However, the non-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;existent&lt;/span&gt; security line certainly made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flight had a stop-over in Christchurch on the way to Auckland.  The travel agent neglected to mention this when she booked my ticket, and I guess I failed to notice.  It did mean that the journey stretched out to most of the afternoon and evening, but at least &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Quantas&lt;/span&gt; provides pillows and tea on their flights, unlike any of the Aussie discount carriers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving into downtown Auckland felt like I had flown to another country, not merely to another island in the same country.  Here there are freeways and traffic, as can be expected of a city of 1.2 million people, even if it is in New Zealand :)  Booking into a girls' only floor at my hostel didn't prove to be such a great decision.  Although the bathrooms were very nice, I was in a room with 4 Dutch girls who were screaming and carrying on as if they were at a high school slumber party.  Who knows, perhaps they were.  Once again I got to play the bad cop by asking them to be quiet or taking their carrying on elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I caught the bus for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Taupo&lt;/span&gt;, a town located on the edge of Lake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Taupo&lt;/span&gt;, the largest lake in NZ.  It was formed by a massive volcanic explosion approximately 26,000 years ago (good thing NZ was uninhabited at the time) which spewed out 800 cubic km of ash and debris.  By &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;comparison&lt;/span&gt;, the eruptions of Krakatoa (1883) produced 8 cu km and Mt. St.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Helens&lt;/span&gt; (1980)just 3 cu km.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite an impressive lake, both for its size and the mountains/volcanic peaks visible on the far shore.  The lake also makes quite an impressive setting for a skydive!!  I had not come to NZ planning to jump again, but seeing videos of others' trips inspired me.  After all, it had been 8 years since my first skydive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wound up diving with 2 German guys and an Aussie who had just started working at the jump center.  My instructor, Mike, was from England.  Unlike my jump in the US, where we underwent several hours of instruction prior to jumping, these centers suit you up, tell you the proper position for take-off and free-fall, and leave the rest to your instructor.  I wonder if it's because they figure we really don't want to know, or aren't as concerned about the liability issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went up in a bright pink plane which held 4 jumpers and their tandem instructors.  I was worried about sitting backwards for the flight up, but it turned out to be fine.  Since I wasn't nearly as nervous this time, I was happy to look around at the lake and surrounding fields.  All the same, I was happy not to be diving first (I went third).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a back somersault out of the plane and went into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;free fall&lt;/span&gt;.  I kept my hands on the harness until the tap on my head told me I could spread them out to the side.  Unlike my first dive, I remember all 45 seconds of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;free fall&lt;/span&gt; (from 12,000 to 5,000 feet), and it was awesome.  I was able to look all around at the landscape unfolding underneath us, and to feel all the air rushing by my face.  Since you are falling so fast, it helps to clear your ears as often as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike opened the parachute just as we entered a layer of clouds.  The biggest change in the transition from free fall to floating is the silence:  it's very quiet up there when the wind isn't rushing by your head at 200 kph.  I love the sensation of floating in the air; it truly does feel as though you are flying.  What I didn't love, however, was when Mike started doing really tight turns while chasing one of the other parachutes.  I had no problem with the free-fall, but this made my stomach want to rise right up into my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a little shaky for about 30 minutes afterwards, and needed to completely unblock my ears, but it was a fantastic experience.  So much more rewarding than my first dive, since I had gotten over the initial fear and was able to relax and enjoy it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-9126258627893385918?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/9126258627893385918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=9126258627893385918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/9126258627893385918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/9126258627893385918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/05/welcome-to-north-island.html' title='Welcome to the North Island'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-2409129652723915418</id><published>2007-05-02T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T16:20:19.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanaka</title><content type='html'>Things here have been pretty quiet over the last couple days.  It started to rain just as we got off the glacier and it has been raining or very overcast ever since.  I am now in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wanaka&lt;/span&gt;, which would be a lovely and beautiful place if the sky were not so overcast.  How strange that it looks like a perfect fall day here, with the trees decked out in their autumn colors, when at home spring is coming into its full flower.  What fun being in the southern hemisphere!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, there is not much to do here, which is why I am heading to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Queeny&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;) later this afternoon.  I was incredibly excited to be staying at a hostel called "Purple Cow Backpackers".  Turns out it's named after a brand of German chocolate and not my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Alma&lt;/span&gt; mater, but it's still a wonderful thing.  The signs in the hostel are even purple and gold :) Ah, it takes so little, really, to make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of people got rained out of skydiving, twice, which was a big bummer for them.  We watched the videos from the 2 people who did go, and it almost made me want to go skydiving again.  Over the last 8 years, I've forgotten how much fun I had.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few nights ago we stayed in this cute A-frame chalet in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Makarora&lt;/span&gt;, which in is the absolute middle of nowhere.  It was again raining, which ruled out all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the outdoor&lt;/span&gt; activity options... so we just hung out, drunk beer, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;and amused&lt;/span&gt; ourselves by listening to this guy Nathan from CA tell us every bad pick-up line he could remember.  After dinner we played musical chairs to bad '80's music... I didn't try very hard.  The guy who won did so because instead of attempting to sit on the chair and push the other person off, he would just run off with it.  Not very sporting, if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fly tomorrow to Auckland, and the North Island.  I will only have about 4 days there before I need to catch my flight back to the US.  How fast this three months has gone by!!  It's been wonderful and amazing, but like all good things, it eventually must come to an end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-2409129652723915418?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/2409129652723915418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=2409129652723915418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2409129652723915418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2409129652723915418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/05/wanaka.html' title='Wanaka'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3124999526743179455</id><published>2007-04-29T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T23:15:31.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiking the Franz Josef Glacier</title><content type='html'>Today was a really cool day.  Although I have seen glaciers in several locations (Glacier National Park, Alaska, and in the Canadian Rockies), I have never walked on more than the edge of one.  Today we scheduled a full day hike on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;FJ&lt;/span&gt; glacier, a 12 km glacier whose face terminates only 240 meters above sea level.  It and the nearby Fox glacier are 2 of only three glaciers which occur at this southern latitude (the other one is in Argentina).  Currently the glacier is advancing at a rate of about 15 centimeters a day.  It is maintained by the massive rain and snowfall on its face; the record for one season snowfall at Franz Josef is 80 meters!! (average is around 40).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the center are were equipped with over trousers, waterproof coats, hats, gloves, boots, and crampons.  The crampons are sized to fit each size of rubber boots (which unfortunately weren't that comfortable).  I didn't wind up wearing either the coat or pants, but it was nice to have them anyway.  A bus takes us to the glacier field, and it is a 40 minute walk through a temperate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt; and along a river bed to arrive at the glacier's base.  At this point we put on our crampons, and divided into 4 groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ascent onto the glacier is via a staircase with a guide rope.  The guides are responsible for cutting steps with their ice axes in the steep parts, and it is not as easy as it looks.  The first steps are large enough to walk up normally, but subsequent staircases were ascended or descended via the "Franz" in which you stand sideways and swing your free leg either in front or behind your standing leg and onto the next step.  Once I got the hang of it, this was actually really fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking with crampons is also really fun (and it makes you feel cool).  They're very useful for walking through all sorts of terrain up there, especially the loose ice.  There were a number of crevasses which needed to be traversed via stairs and guide ropes.  These crossings were definitely the bottleneck of our journey because only one person can go at a time and there were 44 people among the 4 groups doing day long hikes.  Several girls in my group also provided a bottleneck.  I couldn't tell if they were totally incompetent, or just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;frightened&lt;/span&gt; of everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strangest part of the journey involved squirming through an ice cave, or wormhole.  The ice in there is the beautiful bright blue usually associated with glaciers.  It was also very slick and a little too close for comfort.  It was an awesome experience, though.  We almost made it to the top of the first ice fall (the 2 fastest groups did), which is further than they usually get.  The views both down the glacier (to the ocean beyond) and up the glacier (to 2 other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ice falls&lt;/span&gt;) were quite impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I am a bit tired now and will probably be quite sore tomorrow, this trek was absolutely worthwhile.  If I had time, I would visit the indoor ice climbing cave in town.  I mean, how cool is that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3124999526743179455?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3124999526743179455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3124999526743179455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3124999526743179455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3124999526743179455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/hiking-franz-josef-glacier.html' title='Hiking the Franz Josef Glacier'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5250420201810021190</id><published>2007-04-29T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T02:06:39.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The No-Good Very Bad Day</title><content type='html'>I woke up early the next morning to the sound of pouring rain and knew the sailing trip was out.  After an outing to the bathroom in the other building, I decided to go back to bed.  After all, there are few things nicer than sleeping to the sound of raindrops on a tin roof.  However, I slept too late and woke up cranky and disoriented.  I got all my clothes together for a shower, only to discover that everyone on our bus had decided to leave a day early... and our bus driver had neglected to wake me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One bus had already left and the other was waiting for me to get dressed and shove all my stuff in bags.  I had not seen anything of Abel Tasman park, but couldn't stay because the next bus wasn't coming for another three days.  Most of the people I had really connected with were staying, and I was really bummed because I couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I wound up on a bus with only 6 other people, and 5 of them were a clique of Irish and British girls, plus one couple.  I felt like I was on a bus with people I didn't really like going to a place I didn't really want to go.  It seemed as though I was always at odds with the majority, such as wanting to listen to Christmas music in April.  Who wants to listen to x-mas music in April?  Anyway, we arrived in the metropolis of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barrytown&lt;/span&gt;, population 12, and I was looking forward to this day being over.  Little did I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were staying at the pub, which also doubles as a hotel, on a Saturday night.  Happy hour was from 8-9.  If you want cheap drinks after that, you have to get dressed up in one of the many garments they've collected from patrons and the thrift store over the years.  All of the men were cross-dressing, and it was a bit frightening how into it they were.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gollum&lt;/span&gt;, one of the bus drivers, wore a red negligee and tights.  I found a bright pink dressing gown and decided what the hell.  It turned into a really fun night.  Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we were up for a bone carving workshop.  This is a form of traditional Maori art that has become ubiquitous in NZ, but it was really fun learning the process.  Transforming a piece of cow tibia into a beautiful object in only a few hours does prove oddly satisfying.  It also involves multiple power tools, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dremel&lt;/span&gt;, 4 grades of sandpaper, and buffer.  While we were at the studio, a woman with the most incredible jade pendant I've ever seen came over to visit.  Of course it turned out she was a jade (NZ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;greenstone&lt;/span&gt;) carver and I asked if we could visit her studio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't visit the studio, but she did bring some pieces to show us.  I'm not a huge fan of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;greenstone&lt;/span&gt;, but she did have some nice pieces in her limited supply.  By far the best was a large piece she had made for an exposition... and it was a good deal.  I settled on a smaller piece, and wound up having to finish the stringing myself since everyone on the bus was waiting.  I wound up being glad I hadn't waited to buy something until we reached &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hokitika&lt;/span&gt; since most of the nice smaller &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;greenstone&lt;/span&gt; places were closed on Sundays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing this from the Franz Josef glacier, a 12 km long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;icefield&lt;/span&gt; on the southwest coast of the South Island.  We're going on a glacier trek tomorrow, which should be a great experience (I get to wear crampons :)  However, the hostel is a bit of backpacker hell and I won't be sorry to leave it behind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5250420201810021190?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5250420201810021190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5250420201810021190' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5250420201810021190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5250420201810021190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/no-good-very-bad-day.html' title='The No-Good Very Bad Day'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-2478842029178426605</id><published>2007-04-29T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T01:35:44.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The catch-up post</title><content type='html'>I've not managed to post for a few days and as a result my activities have piled up behind me.  Here's what I hope will be a brief description of what I've been up to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kaikoura&lt;/span&gt;, we drove up the coast for about 20 minutes to the much larger Mt. Hope seal colony.  Although we were a bit far away from our vantage point above them and along the road, seeing them was still a fantastic experience.  Seals were lounging everywhere on the rocks which form this part of the rugged coastline.  My favorite part, however, were the groups of juvenile seals (probably last year's batch of pups).  They tended to chase each other through the waves or wrestle in small pools formed by depressions in the rock.  Because there was at least one adult seal watching them, it seemed like she had drawn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kiddy&lt;/span&gt; pool duty for that day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kaikoura&lt;/span&gt; we headed up to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Picton&lt;/span&gt; to bring people to and from the ferry to the North Island and Wellington.  The bus then headed through the Marlborough region, home to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; largest concentration of winemakers.  We stopped at a vineyard for wine tasting... how did I wind up being the only person to buy any wine?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the time and so decided to stop for a day in Nelson, billed as the sunniest city on the South Island.  It also happens to house a large arts and crafts community, so I knew this would be a dangerous place to stop!!  I wound up getting off the bus with a nice Dutch girl named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Maaike&lt;/span&gt;, and we found a small charming hostel called Accents on the Park.  I didn't even care that I once again had a top bunk, since the beds proved to be so comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the next afternoon on a wine and brewery tour of the Nelson region.  There were only 11 of us in the shuttle, and our guide, Marion, was really a hoot.  The best wine we tasted was a noble rot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Riesling&lt;/span&gt;, a dessert wine made from grapes naturally infected with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;botyrus&lt;/span&gt; fungus.  It was exquisite, but also $50, so alas I didn't buy a bottle.  The brewery at the end was also a great time.  They have something like 20 different beers on tap, and we could sample as many as we wanted.  I wound up taking home a 2 liter bottle of "Wobbly Boot", a very nice porter-style brew.    You'll be happy to know that Worthington's also brewed the official beer used in Lord of the Rings.  For &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;pete's&lt;/span&gt; sake!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had until 3 pm the next day before being picked up by the bus, and used that time to go on an arts tour of the town.  Such a bad idea... I loved everything.  There are weavers, knitters, potters, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;felters&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;woodturners&lt;/span&gt;, leather artists, glass blowers, and jewelers.  Did I mention the jewelers?  On the plus side, I've pretty much done all of mom's birthday shopping for her.  If pottery weren't so expensive to ship home, I would have had a field day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got on the bus and we arrived in the dark and rain to Abel Tasman National Park, a coastal enclave in the northwest corner of the south island.  We were staying on a farm, and I had an adorable little 3 bed hut all to myself.  I planned to do a combination hike and sail the next day, which would also involve seeing another seal colony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-2478842029178426605?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/2478842029178426605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=2478842029178426605' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2478842029178426605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2478842029178426605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/catch-up-post.html' title='The catch-up post'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-8684375579066555848</id><published>2007-04-26T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T00:43:02.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swimming with Dolphins</title><content type='html'>We drove from Christchurch to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kaikoura&lt;/span&gt; in the morning, arriving around noon.  It was a beautiful drive along the coast, mirroring the route taken by the scenic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TranzCoastal&lt;/span&gt; railway.  I was a bit anxious  during the ride, though, as we kept running late, eventually having to stop so that a person we had left behind could catch up.  Despite my misapprehensions, however, we did arrive in time for the orientation for the dolphin swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to its unique geography, the coastal town of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kaikoura&lt;/span&gt; is home to an astonishing range of marine life, from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Orcas&lt;/span&gt; to sperm whales to dusky dolphins.  The dolphins swim wild in large pods and naturally travel up and down the coast each day.  Because they are wild animals, they are basically consenting to have people swim with them.  They could easily move away if they found their interactions with people threatening or uninteresting.  In this vein, we were told, the dolphins are not there to entertain us.  We are there to entertain the dolphins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First we needed to suit up against the cold water (although at 16 deg C it was actually fairly tolerable).  We were each given a 2 piece 5 mil wetsuit with booties, a hood, flippers, and a mask and snorkel.  We put on the wet suits on land and wore them through the information session and bus ride to the boats, of which there were two.    The ride out to find the dolphin pod was lovely (except for the fact I was on a boat, of course).  The sun reflected off the turquoise sea and set off the surrounding mountain ranges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 20 minutes, we spotted a large pod of dolphins swimming, jumping, and travelling together.  The whistle blew and we all pushed ourselves off the back of the boat into the water.  Despite the forewarning, getting into the water nearly took my breath away.  It seemed difficult to breathe, and my hands, the only part of my body not protected from the water, immediately went numb.  My initial thought was that this experience was not going to be the incredible ride I was anticipating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time and patience proved me wrong, of course.  Both my lungs and body acclimated themselves to the water and breathing became much easier.  I began to work on my dolphin entertainment skills: to attract a dolphin, you must behave like a dolphin.  This involves keeping the arms by the sides and moving through dolphin kicks, diving down into the water to encourage dolphins to follow you, and best of all, making ridiculous noises through your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;snorkel&lt;/span&gt;.  Imagine a group of about 20 people in wetsuits all dolphin kicking on the surface of the water while an utter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cacophony&lt;/span&gt; of nonsense drifts up from their masks.  No doubt the spectators on the boats found this utter hilarious.  But it worked!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolphins surged above us, below us, and all around us.  They were frequently close enough to touch, although we were not allowed to.  Their blowholes and any variations or blemishes on their smooth skin were immediately evident.  The power of these sleek creatures is overwhelming.  Frequently I would attract a dolphin's interest, and he or she would begin to swim in circles around me, as if daring me to keep up.  Well who on earth can keep up with a dolphin in water, let alone me?  I did my best, but the constant swimming in circles did make me feel quite queasy, despite the grandeur of the day and my carefully consumed anti-nausea medication.  Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once out of the water and in dry clothes, we were able to observe the dolphins from the comfort of our boat, and what a show they put on for us.  The pod would surge all around the boat, frequently swimming under us and emerging at the other side.  Dolphins cruised just at the water's surface, their dorsal fins evident in sharp relief against the smooth sea.  The most energetic dolphins turned cartwheels and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;somersaults&lt;/span&gt; out of the water, sometimes 5 or 6 in a row. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I am prone to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;anthropomorphize&lt;/span&gt; them, but dolphins truly seem to exhibit a joy and a lust for life.  They are one of the animal species which seems most capable of having fun.  They swam with us because they wanted to, not because they were under any obligation.  And they leap for the joy of it; this behavior doesn't help them secure food or pass their genes on to the next generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt very privileged to have had this experience, even though it proved once again that I am a hopeless landlubber :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-8684375579066555848?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/8684375579066555848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=8684375579066555848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8684375579066555848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8684375579066555848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/swimming-with-dolphins.html' title='Swimming with Dolphins'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6937978564841739541</id><published>2007-04-23T01:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T01:29:52.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horse Trekking in Rangitata</title><content type='html'>Well, I am starting to satisfy my animal fix.  I started off small at the Milford underwater observatory with black coral (which is an animal, BTW), giant mussels, sea cucumbers, starfish, and lots of fish.  Occasionally these are pursued by a hunting bird, seal, or dolphin, but we were not lucky enough to see those.  The next day I headed north to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rangitata&lt;/span&gt;, home of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; best white water rafting, and horse trekking in the Peel Forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at this wonderful wooden A-frame building heated by a wood-burning stove (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;there've&lt;/span&gt; been lots of these in NZ so far).  I spent a very relaxing afternoon reading by the fire and drinking copious cups of tea.  We were briefly joined by Sophie (aka Duck Face), an extremely well behaved black lab.  She would not come inside the building, per her training, and could be trusted not to eat food until instructed to.  I know so many dogs who could happily follow her example!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I got picked up for my two hour horse trek.  My mount was Craig, a 4 year old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Standardbred&lt;/span&gt; track reject.  He was saved from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;abattoir&lt;/span&gt; due to his calm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;temperament&lt;/span&gt;--perfect for a trail horse.  My guide was Patrick, a crusty old man who had spent his life around horses and used to fly with racing horses all over the world.  Craig was a great horse, except for his tendency to want to munch grass while walking, and to walk too closely to objects on his left side, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;conveniently&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;forgetting&lt;/span&gt; that my leg also needed room to pass!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked along the road, through fields and forests, across streams, and even through some rocky and sandy beaches.  When I first got on, I thought my butt would never last the two hours.  After a while, however, you do find your seat and meld much better with both the saddle and the horse.  This didn't prevent me from staggering a bit when I dismounted, but my land legs soon returned.  I can't remember the last time I rode a horse, so this was a terrific re-introduction.  Now I need to learn how to go faster than a walk!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm heading to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Kaikoura&lt;/span&gt;, further north on the East Coast, to swim with a pod of wild dolphins in the ocean.  The water will be freezing, but hopefully our wetsuits will be adequate to the conditions.  It should be awesome...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6937978564841739541?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6937978564841739541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6937978564841739541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6937978564841739541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6937978564841739541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/horse-trekking-in-rangitata.html' title='Horse Trekking in Rangitata'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3664926396537061690</id><published>2007-04-21T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T00:35:12.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milford Sound</title><content type='html'>It's really been a jam-packed 4 days, just wonderful.  I got picked up this morning in Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anau&lt;/span&gt; by a bus headed for Milford Sound, one of the most popular sights on the South Island (or in NZ, for that matter).  Although as we learned on the cruise, Milford is technically a fjord, having been formed through glaciation.  Sounds result from water erosion alone (FYI).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the "Kiwi Experience" bus, which has a bit of a reputation as a party bus.  The driver certainly was a character, and except for the one guy wearing sunglasses at 9 am on a very cloudy day, the passengers seemed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;.  The drive from the divide into Milford is amazing.    For one thing, the white-out conditions were magically replaced by blue sky as we crossed over.  The mountains keep coming closer and closer until you are forced to drive through one... and apparently the workers used 100 kg (220 lbs) of explosives for every 25 cm (~10 in) of progress creating this one lane tunnel.  The road on the other side is a series of hairpin turns down to sea level and the Milford Sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound is actually not very big, but more than compensates with its grandeur.  It is a deep, deep pool surrounded on all sides by mountains rising straight from the sea.  They are at times bare, covered by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tenacious&lt;/span&gt;, stunted trees clinging by what seems like sheer strength of will, or home to sheets of cascading water.  The surface of the sound itself is quite calm, at times reflecting the mountains above it.  Even though this is enormous tourist attraction, it is enough of the off season now that the sound didn't seem too overcrowded.  Of course, we were sharing the boat with two busloads of Korean tourists.  Watching them all shouting and constantly taking pictures of each other provided just great entertainment!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also visited the Milford underwater observatory, 9 meters down.  The high levels of rainfall in the sound create a unique environment, with the saltwater covered by a layer of freshwater which then produces a filtering effect.  Because of this, deep water animals can live much closer to the surface here then they normally would, and we get to see them!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was back on the bus for the long slog back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;.  Between Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Anau&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;, there is nothing except miles and miles of patchwork fields covered by herds of cows, sheep, and deer.  This beautiful landscape is utterly devoid of people, except for those in the occasional farm buildings out on each station.  The approach to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt; along the west side of Lake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wakitipu&lt;/span&gt; was also magnificent.  The road curves high along the lake edge, affording great views of the peaks beyond the water.  Add in a setting sun, and you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now going to take all my belongings out of the garbage bags where they have been living for the last four days and attempt to find room for them in my backpack.  Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3664926396537061690?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3664926396537061690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3664926396537061690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3664926396537061690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3664926396537061690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/milford-sound.html' title='Milford Sound'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-240669468818813868</id><published>2007-04-19T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T00:07:50.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiking the Routeburn Track</title><content type='html'>I'm in Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anau&lt;/span&gt; after coming off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; Track this afternoon, and I am sore. I'm also craving pizza and beer, but that can be easily remedied. The hike was amazing. We had three days of clear weather (very unusual for the area), and I did not re-injure my ankle or freeze any appendages. It was, however, much more challenging than I anticipated 32 km spread over three days would be. Perhaps it was my sub-optimal pack, or the fact I seemed to be carrying too much weight (cheese, anyone?). More likely it was my asthma and less than optimal cardiovascular system. But I made it and I'm so glad I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The track starts at the head of a long glacial lake and climbs gradually through a forest dark with moss covered streams and strewn with boulders. Water is everywhere; often the track is wet with it, and there are innumerable stream crossings. The first few are on suspension bridges, which sway far more than you think they ought to!! At about noon, you reach the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; Falls hut, which sits on a grassy plain along a stream surrounded by mountains. I wound up spending a very long lunch break chatting with two Americans from California and a hysterical trio of fellow hikers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only 1:30 to the next hut, but that time is all uphill on an extremely rocky trail. Everyone who has ever hiked with me knows that I do not have the best balance on the trail, and I was especially concerned about my bad ankle given my hiking shoes do not provide ankle support. So I took my time (I think I was the last hiker to the hut), but I arrived safely at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; Falls Hut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These DOC huts are really something else. From October through April, the huts are supplied by helicopter and provide a coal burning stove, gas burners, running water, flush toilets, and bunk beds. Talk about the lap of luxury!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, it was really cold in the bunkhouse, but otherwise the facilities are amazing. The warden, John, turned out to be a real character. He took us for a walk after dinner to look at NZ glowworms, and finally explained to me the location of the Southern Cross (yes, I am an idiot). This was one of the brightest, fullest skies I've ever seen, even if all the constellations are upside down!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John has travellers who speak unusual languages write messages on a large banner which he then displays. On the one from Christmas, there were visitors speaking Tamil, Burmese, and Urdu, among others. It is astounding what a diverse range of people visit this little corner of NZ. I offered to write something in Swahili, which John didn't have and got very excited about. Then of course I couldn't remember any of the relevant words!! I wound up just writing "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Karibuni&lt;/span&gt; ya &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; Falls. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Walima&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ni&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;safi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;kabisa&lt;/span&gt;" which means "Welcome to RF. The mountains are awesome." He made me a cup of tea for my efforts (I was writing this with a brush in green paint, which takes a while), and I got to chatting with him and Jeff and Jennifer, two Californians who were staying with him. Anyway, we wound up having a great time and I didn't go to bed until nearly 1 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was it much warmer in the cabin than in the bunkhouse, but I got served breakfast in bed!! wow. It was a beautiful sunny morning and we all didn't want to leave the cabin's porch with its phenomenal view of the mountains. I finally headed off about 10 am, and said my goodbyes. This portion of the hike is all above the treeline, and I reached the Harris Saddle (highest point on the track) at about 12:30.  Everyone I met said the trip up Conical Hill was a slog, but worth it.  As I reached the top about 40 minutes later, after scrambling up rocks and between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;crevices&lt;/span&gt;, I thought that was an apt description.  The views of the surrounding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;mountains&lt;/span&gt; were incredible, and I could even see the waves breaking on the shore of the Abel Tasman Sea in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to the Mackenzie Hut, although mostly downhill, was surprisingly difficult.  Much of the trail involved descending from one large, irregular rock to the next large, irregular rock.  It was difficult on my knees, but more so on my ankles.  I may have been the last person to arrive at Mackenzie Hut, but I made it.  This one was much warmer due to the lower elevation on the far side.  Dinner this time was better as well: Mac and Cheese with dehydrated onions and peas.  Well, anything tastes better on the trail, really :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third day involved a lot of ridge walking, which I enjoyed.  After the first rocky section, the trail smoothed out and I didn't have to concentrate so much on my footing.  It was a shame to enter the trees again, because it felt a bit like walking in a big green tunnel, with occasional glimpses of the surrounding mountains.  Once again numerous waterfalls cascaded down jumbled rocks into the river far below.  I arrived at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Howden&lt;/span&gt; Hut at noon, in time for lunch.  I was getting a bit tired of my "tasty cheese" (their term for sharp cheddar) and pita at this point.  There was only a short steep climb up to the key summit, and then a gradual downhill to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;trail's&lt;/span&gt; end at the Divide.  A shuttle picked me up at 3:15 for the trip to Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Anau&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing experience!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-240669468818813868?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/240669468818813868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=240669468818813868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/240669468818813868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/240669468818813868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/hiking-routeburn-track.html' title='Hiking the Routeburn Track'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6026178927718055835</id><published>2007-04-15T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T20:58:14.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SHEEP (and other creatures)</title><content type='html'>I spent a largely uneventful last day in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chch&lt;/span&gt;, visiting the Gondola in the morning.  The expected fantastic views over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Littleton&lt;/span&gt; Harbor didn't really materialize, although the journey up and down was still nice.  I saw my first 100% NZ sheep dotting the landscape under the lift on the way up.  The rest of the day I spent wandering around before again &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;visiting&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dux&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lux&lt;/span&gt; for dinner.  The seafood chowder wasn't the best choice, but they definitely redeemed themselves with dessert (something called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Buffoni&lt;/span&gt; pie, which is basically a banana creme pie, but so much better).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up quite early this morning to catch the bus to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;, the "adventure capital" of the South Island.  Actually, I was up much earlier due to the loud disruptive snoring coming from the bed across the room.  I think they should have separate dorm rooms for snorers so they can keep each other up and see how it feels :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus ride was actually quite nice.  The bus driver was quiet and polite, and we didn't make any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;unnecessary&lt;/span&gt; stops: one bathroom break and another for lunch.  I did sleep for a couple hours in the beginning, but awoke to see plains of grass backed by the snow-covered peaks of the Southern Alps, which form the backbone of the South Island.  These plains were dotted with what looked like rocks, but soon turned out to be sheep, thousands of sheep.  I have heard that NZ boasts ten times more sheep than people (40 million of them, sheep that is) but it is quite another thing to see them with your own eyes.  The landscape was also dotted with horses, cows (both dairy and beef), alpacas, and what look like deer.  I need to ask about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also passed lake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tekapo&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Pukaki&lt;/span&gt;, both of which are truly stunning.  They remind me a great deal of Lake Louise in the Canadian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Rockies&lt;/span&gt;, since all these lakes were formed by the same process: glacial melt.  The striking blue-green water is framed by mountain peaks on all sides, and the road winds around giving you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;interrupted views across the water.  The unique turquoise color of the water is again due to rock flour, particles of finely ground silt from the mountains suspended in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've arrived in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;, which is quite a happening place.  I was able to arrange everything for my hike of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; track at the tracks and info office.  It'll be a three day hike, starting Wednesday.  At the end on Friday, I'll catch the bus to Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Anau&lt;/span&gt; and then go on Saturday for a cruise on Milford Sound and then back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Queenstown&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm so happy at how easy it was to coordinate all the logistics.  But then again, many people hike the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Routeburn&lt;/span&gt; each year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6026178927718055835?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6026178927718055835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6026178927718055835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6026178927718055835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6026178927718055835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/sheep-and-other-creatures.html' title='SHEEP (and other creatures)'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5754424557408052802</id><published>2007-04-13T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T23:52:18.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arts and Crafts</title><content type='html'>Christchurch (hereby to be abbreviated as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chch&lt;/span&gt;, per the locals) is definitely looking up.  Of course, this did involve a change in the weather and the purchase of wool items to cover just about every part of my body.  I could be a walking advertisement for the NZ wool industry at this point, but I'm warm so I really don't care.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chch&lt;/span&gt; started looking up yesterday when I discovered a truly awesome NZ brand of merino outdoor wear, called Icebreaker, on sale at a local outdoor store.  I had first seen it in Australia, and resolved to check it out when I actually got to NZ.   I am now the proud owner of a purple zip-neck sweater, complete with thumb loops (which in my opinion make the whole thing).  I also went to the most excellent restaurant for dinner, called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dux&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lux&lt;/span&gt; (thanks, Dan).  As far as I'm concerned, it's pretty much the perfect place.  They only serve vegetarian items and seafood, brew their own beer, and offer live music on-site.  Really, what more could you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was actually warm while sleeping last night, and woke up to discover that the weather had changed.  The fierce wind and overcast skies had been replaced by bright sun and blue sky.  It's still not Australia, but it feels quite pleasant in the sun.  I ate breakfast with two locals who gave me tons of travel tips, and then headed to the Arts Center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dux&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Lux&lt;/span&gt; is the perfect restaurant, then the Arts Center is the perfect shopping venue.  The city has converted an old brick and stone college building into artists' studios, galleries, cafes, and an exhibit on Ernst Rutherford, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;NZ's&lt;/span&gt; most famous scientist.  On the weekends additional crafts vendors set up booths outside.  Let's just say that I did my best to support the local economy.  I even bought a small piece of pottery (it was a cat, I couldn't resist), which I will now have to try not to break for the next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also discovered the joys of merino possum, a fiber combining merino wool with possum fur.  Unfortunately, you have to kill the possums to make it.  However, I do understand that the possum is an introduced species which has no natural predators in NZ and is killing native wildlife and consuming their food sources.  New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Zealanders&lt;/span&gt; hate them more than anything, and have developed this industry as a profitable way to use the possum.  I just want to know what happens to all the meat (dog food?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now own a hat and scarf made from this wonder fiber.  I also own the most excellent pair of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;convertable&lt;/span&gt; gloves/mittens, purchased from the local weaving/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;spinning&lt;/span&gt; co-op.  Since my fingers are cold and I'm not yet good enough to make these on my own, I don't feel bad about buying a pair knit by someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch was also unique, purchased from a food truck on-site.  This one was Czech and offered big potato pancakes topped with various things.  I got mine with cheese and salad, and it was like eating a huge potato &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;latke&lt;/span&gt;, with some veggies on top for fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to happily spend all day at the Arts Center, with some sun breaks in the courtyard to listen to local music.  I ended the day with a quick trip to the Christchurch art gallery to check out their exhibit on contemporary Maori weaving.  Many of the items were interpretations of ceremonial capes, woven out of flax and other plant fibers and lavishly decorated with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;paua&lt;/span&gt; shell, bird feathers, and other natural items.  The baskets were also quite interesting, ranging from functional to purely decorative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been quite a day.  The locals at breakfast assured me that tomorrow would be clear (and I'm holding them to it), which invites a trip up the gondola to a lookout point above the city.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5754424557408052802?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5754424557408052802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5754424557408052802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5754424557408052802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5754424557408052802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/arts-and-crafts.html' title='Arts and Crafts'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-994584041342848984</id><published>2007-04-12T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T17:03:26.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The $200 Apple Incident</title><content type='html'>The bus from Hervey Bay to Brisbane was nice and uneventful.  This bus driver treated everyone like adults and as a result we had a smooth, pleasant ride :)  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tinbilly's&lt;/span&gt;, the hostel I had booked in Brisbane, was right across from the transit center and so I was able to drop my stuff and go exploring.  To be honest, the only thing I really did was to visit an outdoor store to buy long underwear for my trek in NZ.  Or if it's really that cold, I might just wear it all the time :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I took the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;convenient&lt;/span&gt; airport link train from the transit center to the airport for my flight to Sydney.  I was astonished to learn that there is no free transport between the domestic and international terminals and I was required to pay $4.70 to get there on the subway.  Is there another airport in the world with this set-up?  I arrived at the international terminal, only to wait more than an hour to check my luggage.  Virgin Blue (or Pacific Blue) really is something.  They do not offer complementary drinks (all items, including coke are for sale) or blankets/pillows on any of their flights, including this international one.  They make Southwest look downright luxurious by comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real problems began when I went through the NZ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Biosecurity&lt;/span&gt; checkpoint.  I had declared food (one jar each of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nutella&lt;/span&gt; and peanut butter) and stated that I had been hiking in the last 30 days.  They checked out my boots... no problem, unlike when I had arrived in Australia.  NZ doesn't take your word for it, however, they put all your luggage through an x-ray machine to ensure you're telling the truth.  Apparently I had a small apple from the Fraser Island in the bottom of my bag; I had completely forgotten it was there.  If I had declared this innocuous piece of fruit, they would simply have confiscated it.  But because I had not, even though I was not deliberately trying to bring contraband into the country, they charged me a fine of NZ$200 right then and there.  And this was for an unintentional offense.  Am I the only one who finds this a tad bit unfair?  If I was a NZ citizen who knew the rules, that would be one thing.  But I truly forgot about the damn apple.  A slap on the wrist, in my opinion, would be a lot more appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it all off, the Uni games are being held in Christchurch this weekend and beds are in short supply.  I had to call almost every hostel listed at the airport before snagging the last bed at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Coker's&lt;/span&gt;.  This turned out to be not so lucky after all, since my thin blanket did little to insulate me from the cold window adjacent to my bed; I spent a very sleepless night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention it's cold in Christchurch right now?  Really cold?  I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for the hooded sweatshirt I purchased last minute at the Sydney airport; it's currently my warmest item of clothing.  But things are looking up: I've moved into a more centrally located &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;YHA&lt;/span&gt;, and am about to go exploring.    Now if I can just put the apple incident behind me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-994584041342848984?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/994584041342848984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=994584041342848984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/994584041342848984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/994584041342848984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/200-apple-incident.html' title='The $200 Apple Incident'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3690454394808115701</id><published>2007-04-11T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T01:15:26.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fraser Island</title><content type='html'>After Uncle Brian's Tour, I packed myself up and left Cairns the next morning on the 7 am bus, which I almost missed because my idiot cab driver told me to wait in the wrong place.  That incident set the tone for much of the following 24 hour ride; Greyhound bus drivers think their passengers are the most idiotic people on Earth.  I really don't enjoy being treated like a 5 year old, least of all by a public bus driver.  I can read the signs; I know that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;seat belts&lt;/span&gt; are required and no eating and drinking are permitted on the bus.   I suppose telling us not to put our feet on the seats or across the aisles makes them feel good, as does threatening to thrown anyone off the bus who dares venture into the back area.  But is it really necessary to repeat this information every half hour?  This barrage continued with the second bus driver.  The overnight bus driver was my favorite; he just shut up and drove the damn bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived, bright and chipper, in Hervey Bay the next morning at 6:20 am, ready for the ferry to Fraser Island.  This Island is the largest sand island in the world (it contains more sand than the Sahara) and was designated a UNESCO world heritage site in 1992.  The island is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;criss&lt;/span&gt;-crossed by single lane tracks in the sand, only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;accessible&lt;/span&gt; via 4x4.  Many backpackers see Fraser island on a self-guided tour, but I was not about to entrust my livelihood to some random person with little to no 4x4 experience, especially on sand.  So I took a tour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I was expecting miles and miles of uninterrupted sand, but the center of Fraser is filled with trees and other vegetation.  In fact, the roads we drove on were old logging roads created in the 1890's with the start of the timber industry on Fraser.  There are many different types of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;eucalypts&lt;/span&gt;, ferns, vines, shrubs, etc.  There is even a plant whose fruit contains 3x the lethal dose of cyanide in each of its segments.  The Aborigines apparently solved this by leaching the fruit in water (to dissolve the cyanide and convert it to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HCN&lt;/span&gt;), and then cooking it, to convert the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;HCN&lt;/span&gt; into gas which would then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dissipate&lt;/span&gt;.  Apparently this process is only partially successful, which accounts for high levels of Alzheimer's and Parkinson's like symptoms in people who've eaten the fruit for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the types of stories our guide Dave revelled in telling us.  The first day he got off onto so many pharmacological tangents I wanted to kill him.  Well, and because he also laughs at his own jokes.  I mean, while it's very interesting that dangerous criminals contain much lower levels than normal of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Monoamine&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;oxidase&lt;/span&gt;, an inhibitory neurotransmitter, it's not really appropriate information for a tour of Fraser Island!!  We discovered on the second day that it is possible to keep Dave on track by asking him very specific questions.  Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlights of Fraser Island are its many freshwater lakes, created when depressions occur in sand that is totally saturated with water.  A type of rock called coffee rock forms the floor of the lakes and prevents the water from seeping back out if the water table in the sand were to fall.   The high water table has also created numerous freshwater creeks, the largest of which, Eli Creek, can be ridden down in an inner tube.  Unfortunately, it was very wet for 2 of the three days we were there, which made swimming an afterthought.  I got so drenched walking to Lake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mirabee&lt;/span&gt;, though, that I decided I might as well just go for a swim.  I was just in time for the antics of about 6 American frat boys, who decided that it would be really fun to get naked and roll down the sand slope into the lake below.  Did I mention how proud I am of my country?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I had lots of fun.  The sand, ocean, and freshwater lakes are just gorgeous, and it certainly was an adventure driving across bumpy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sand tracks&lt;/span&gt; in a large bus built on a truck base.  I met a very nice Belgian girl named Masha with whom I hung out for most of the trip, and none of my trip mates were drunken goons.  And we saw a Dingo (wild Australian dog).  All and all, not a bad trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3690454394808115701?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3690454394808115701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3690454394808115701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3690454394808115701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3690454394808115701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/fraser-island.html' title='Fraser Island'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-707252360402088945</id><published>2007-04-11T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T00:50:10.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Brian's Tour</title><content type='html'>It's a shame that so much time has passed between this journal entry and the tour, because I'm sure there are tons of funny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anecdotes&lt;/span&gt; I no longer remember.  But alas, that's how it goes sometimes.  My last day in Cairns, I decided to go on a tour of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Atherton&lt;/span&gt; Tablelands, highly recommended by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Karenza&lt;/span&gt;, the FINA volunteer I had met in Melbourne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Brian's Tour is a tour (obviously), but it is as much about silliness as it is about the scenery.  Since Uncle Brian had a newborn at home, we were guided by "Cousin Paul," aboard "Gus the Bus".  Gus has emotions and feelings of his own; for example he was very upset when we didn't encounter his "girlfriend" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Volveena&lt;/span&gt; (a Volvo milk truck) at her usual spot on the tour.  He expressed this by almost stalling and letting his windshield sprayers go on full blast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tour is billed as "Fun, Falls, and Forest", and I think that's pretty accurate.  We went swimming in 4 different places over the day, each with a different unique geological feature.  The first was in a temperate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt; and involved floating down some very small rapids.  Next we went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jospephine&lt;/span&gt; Falls, which actually consists of three waterfalls, all running into each other.  This one sports a natural &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rockslide&lt;/span&gt; which is tons of fun to go down, provided you can get to the top of it without slipping on the very slick algae covered rocks.  I needed a push from the person behind me more than once.  I went down feet first, head first, backwards, and spinning.  Except for the water up my nose, it was tons of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easily the most impressive waterfall on the tour is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Milla&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Milla&lt;/span&gt; (the Aboriginal name meaning lots of water), a single waterfall cascading past fern covered rocks into a large pool.  It has apparently been featured in a Qantas commercial, and a very cheesy shampoo ad from the '80s which involved women throwing back their wet hair to create arcs of water droplets as they posed in front of the falls.  Many in the group felt the need to re-create this ad; I didn't.  I did, however, go behind the falls and swim through it; the force of the water as you pass through is impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final swim of the day was in a huge lake in a volcanic caldera.  Unlike the others, this one was actually quite warm.  There were also turtles to watch as they stuck just their noses out of the water to breathe.  Turtle locomotion is very specific; they move opposing limbs together in a precise &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt;.  The animal highlight of the day, however, was definitely seeing a platypus swimming in the river.  Unfortunately he didn't stick around long (I'm sure the noise of everyone pulling out their cameras scared him off), but I  have now seen a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;monotreme&lt;/span&gt; in the wild, which is a great thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride home consisted of more silliness, mostly sing-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;alongs&lt;/span&gt;.  Lots of '60's Motown and some musicals.  But no John Denver, even after I made a special effort to remember the words to Country Roads and Leaving on a Jet Plane.  Ah well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-707252360402088945?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/707252360402088945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=707252360402088945' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/707252360402088945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/707252360402088945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/uncle-brians-tour.html' title='Uncle Brian&apos;s Tour'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-4588768064185478053</id><published>2007-04-05T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T00:39:26.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Barrier Reef</title><content type='html'>My planned trip to the reef hit a huge snag before I even got on the boat; at around 7 pm the night before, the tour I was on to say that they had to cancel because the boat didn't work.  Of all the things!!!  So that left me scrambling at the last minute to find an overnight trip I could take instead.  I wound up on one called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ReefQuest&lt;/span&gt;, which really wasn't bad, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;except&lt;/span&gt; that I would have preferred many fewer people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big accomplishment is spending two days on a boat and not throwing up (not much of an accomplishment, I know), although I was feeling a little queasy on the return trip.  They made us wear wetsuits to get in the water, even though the temperature was pleasantly warm.  I guess it's for buoyancy, but man are those things uncomfortable.  The second day I wore a stinger suit (a thin suit with long arms and legs).  It made me look like a demented speed skater, but it was much more pleasant to wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went snorkeling four times over the course of the trip.  What really disappointed me was how washed out and dead much of the coral was in this area.  I don't know if it's from people diving or other environmental factors, but it's very sad.  We even got up to do a trip at 6:30 am the second morning, just as the sun was starting to come up.  My favorite snorkel was the last one of the trip.  I don't know whether I had finally gotten the hang of it, or was just in a better area, but there were fish everywhere.  I saw a white tipped reef shark, giant clams, anemone fish (like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nemo&lt;/span&gt;), schools of little tiny fish, lots of very colorful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;parrotfish&lt;/span&gt;, angelfish, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;surgeonfish&lt;/span&gt;.  The waves and currents were quite strong, so you had to fight to stay in your desired position.  Other than that, the trip was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boat we spent the night on is very nice, with spacious cabins (no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bunk beds&lt;/span&gt;), real showers, and several nice common areas.  I still would have preferred to be on my little 12 person boat, but I can't complain too much about this one.  There were a number of people on board doing either their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;PADI&lt;/span&gt; open water certification, or taking an advanced dive course.  I have to admit I was a bit jealous.  Someday I will, I keep telling myself :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice just to hang out on the deck of the boat, feel the breeze and the sun on my face, and look at the ocean.  I read an entire 400 page book on the trip, so obviously it was very relaxing.  tomorrow I'm off to explore the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Atherton&lt;/span&gt; tablelands.  See you soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-4588768064185478053?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4588768064185478053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=4588768064185478053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4588768064185478053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4588768064185478053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/great-barrier-reef.html' title='Great Barrier Reef'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5620491460914535621</id><published>2007-04-02T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T18:27:32.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you want your pillow, don't sit in the exit row</title><content type='html'>Late yesterday evening I flew from Melbourne to Cairns, on the northern eastern Australian coast.  It's the departure point for most Great Barrier Reef trips; I'm taking mine tomorrow and Thursday.  This was also my first experience with domestic Australian airlines, a shoot-off of Virgin Atlantic named Virgin Blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At check-in, the attendant asked me if I wanted to be seated in the exit row.  Well, duh, of course I did.  However, Australian flight attendants are militant about their exit rows.  Not only can you not have anything under the seat in front of you for the entire flight, you cannot even have a pillow and blanket during take-off and landing.  They make you store them in the overhead bin or threaten to relocate you (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cailin&lt;/span&gt;, you can relate to this, I'm sure).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been on a lot of plane flights in my life now, and I have NEVER encountered any regulations like this.  I was told that the blanket could interfere with departure from the emergency exit.  If we have to leave via the emergency exit, I'm thinking my blanket is going to be the very least of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;anyone's&lt;/span&gt; worries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really pissed me off, though, was the attendant's assertion that stringent rules such as this account for Australian airlines' "excellent safety record."  Now there's a beautiful example of someone messing up correlation and causation.  No, I think Australia has an excellent safety record because 1) until recently they only had one major carrier, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Qantas&lt;/span&gt; 2) the weather is excellent and they don't have to deal with snow and ice on their planes and runways, and  3) the overall volume of flights in Australia is quite low, compared with the US and Europe.   I don't think my not being allowed to have a blanket in the exit row has a damn thing to do with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5620491460914535621?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5620491460914535621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5620491460914535621' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5620491460914535621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5620491460914535621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/if-you-want-your-pillow-dont-sit-in.html' title='If you want your pillow, don&apos;t sit in the exit row'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6352159542237717618</id><published>2007-04-01T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T23:38:00.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 years??!!</title><content type='html'>I got to do my first little bit of vetting last night: Alex the cat brought a baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ring-tailed&lt;/span&gt; possum for everyone to admire.  One of the girls managed to get it out of his mouth and brought it to me, because clearly I know so much about Australian wildlife.  Aside from being scared out of its wits, and damp from Alex's saliva, the possum did not appear to be damaged.  I put him in a bag with some towels and we called the wildlife rehab people, who recommended keeping him in a quiet, warm, dark place until morning.  A Dutch couple volunteered to possum sit, and we got him set up in Alex's cat carrier with some towels, water, and a hot water bottle I found in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was happily still alive the next morning.  I really felt we should bring him to the wildlife rehab place, since he seemed very young and I wasn't at all confident of his ability to survive in the wild.  A local vet checked him out and agreed... he will spend a few days growing a bit before they release him.  I'm glad my instincts were right, even if I have not a clue about the Australian ring-tailed possum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point most of the people I meet travelling ask me how many years I spent in school in order to become a vet.  Their typical response is then "10 years... are you insane?"  Even my explaining that it really only takes 8 doesn't seem to mollify them, whereas it's not something I think that much about.  Going to undergrad was not even really a choice; I always knew that I would go to college.  And among all my friends, graduate education is not so odd either.  Among all of us, we have doctors, lawyers, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CPAs&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MBAs&lt;/span&gt;, vets, and multiple PhD candidates.  I think it is easier in other countries to have a good career without graduate education, whereas it is becoming more and more expected in the US. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's definitely food for thought.  A starting worker in Germany will get a minimum of 26 days vacation, whereas one in the US is lucky to get 10.  Sabbaticals and leaves of absence seem infinitely more prevalent in Europe.  We may have more high-powered careers, but I am thinking they have more fun :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6352159542237717618?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6352159542237717618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6352159542237717618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6352159542237717618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6352159542237717618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/04/10-years.html' title='10 years??!!'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-7053480775593272343</id><published>2007-03-31T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T17:44:45.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Ocean Road/Grampians National Park</title><content type='html'>Although I love Melbourne, I was getting a little stir-crazy spending all my time either in St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kilda&lt;/span&gt; or in the city itself.  Since I had decided that I would see penguins in NZ and therefore didn't need to attend the "Penguin Parade" on Phillip Island, a trip on the great ocean road was a logical choice.  My original choice of tour didn't pan out, so I wound up doing one that also went to nearby Grampians &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nat'l&lt;/span&gt; Park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wound up being a really nice tour.  There were only 11 of us, and everyone was really friendly, including the driver, Bill.  In fact, Bill was a bit too friendly... it seemed that he never shut up!!  But he had a lot of interesting things to tell us, especially since he grew up in a small town on the great ocean road.  This road was built by workers after WWI in a program very similar to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CCC&lt;/span&gt; (civilian conservation corps) the US.  In fact, it was modeled after the pacific coast highway in Oregon and California, although it's much shorter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The absolute highlight of the trip for me was seeing a group of wild koalas in the trees just off the road as we were driving along!!  Unfortunately, most of them were asleep (not surprising since they sleep an average of 20 hours a day), but we did see a couple snacking on Eucalyptus leaves and backing up and down the tree trunks.  Later we saw an entire group of grey kangaroos feeding in a grassy field near our hostel, but I was still much more intrigued by the koalas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At many of the beaches we saw heaps of people in wetsuits surfing on brightly colored surfboards.  In fact, many of them were attending surfing school.  The "king tide" will soon be approaching the southern coast, in time for the world professional surfing championships, held over Easter weekend.  The most famous sights on the great ocean road are called the 12 apostles, and are solitary pieces of land left out in the ocean through wind and water erosion.  Because they are mostly composed of sandstone, which is fairly soft, eventually they will return to the sea.  The landscape reminded me a lot of the Oregon coast, and parts of northern California.  Except for the wind, which was unbelievable.  I have a picture of myself standing overlooking the 12 apostles, with my face completely obscured by all my hair blowing around in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Grampians are also beautiful, although much less dramatic.  A huge forest fire ripped through the area one year ago, and the evidence of the fire is everywhere, even as the land heals.  Ferns have returned as ground cover, and even though the gum trees still sport black, charred trunks, they are also growing new leaves.  In fact, the fire blasted seeds into the bark of many trees, so that they are growing leaves all along their trunks, which is totally abnormal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We visited a temperate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;rainforest&lt;/span&gt; with giant 300 foot tall Eucalyptus trees, very reminiscent of Olympic or the California redwoods.  The oldest trees there are actually the ferns, which only grow an average of 1 mm a year.  The tallest of those in the park are therefore 10,000 years old!!  Other wildlife included the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;kookaburra&lt;/span&gt;, a substantial white and brown bird with a distinctive silhouette and light blue patches on its wings, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Rosella&lt;/span&gt;, a beautiful scarlet and blue bird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the trip with a visit to the largest gold mine in Victoria (really not so interesting) and a local winery (much better), which made the most delicious port I've ever had.  Unfortunately, I really can't cart a bottle of it around Oz and NZ.  Oh well.  Two more days in Melbourne, and then I'm flying to Cairns and the great barrier reef.  Hope it's great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-7053480775593272343?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7053480775593272343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=7053480775593272343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7053480775593272343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7053480775593272343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/great-ocean-roadgrampians-national-park.html' title='The Great Ocean Road/Grampians National Park'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-4889123830873717657</id><published>2007-03-31T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T16:49:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Water Polo and other Diversions</title><content type='html'>After attending the quarterfinals of women's water polo last Tuesday, I decided that I liked it enough to fork out money for the finals on Saturday.  The fact that the US was playing Australia in the gold medal game also had some influence on my decision!!  Again, the cheap seats for the bronze and gold medal games were only A$38, much cheaper than the swimming.  There goes their strange pricing again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Russia beat Hungary in the bronze medal game, 8-6.  It seemed that the whole stadium was rooting for Hungary, not just the Hungarian fans.  Perhaps because they were the defending world champions.  All I have to say is that the Aussies are fantastic sports fans, especially when their own are competing.  There were several cheering squads in the stands, decked out in yellow shirts, wigs, and even face paint.  There is something stirring about listening to a cheer of "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie", "Oi, Oi, Oi" in the stands, even if it is against your own team.  They were also very fond of "Aussie fans, in the stands, let me hear you clap your hands...".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very exciting game, close at the half at 1-1.  I was one of only a few Americans in the stands, but at least I felt safe cheering for the opposing team.  God knows you take your life in your hands when cheering for anyone but the Eagles at the Linc.  After a close game and terrific performance by both goaltenders, the US &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eked&lt;/span&gt; out a victory, 6-5.  And then promptly dragged the entire coaching staff into the water fully clothed :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the tram back to St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kilda&lt;/span&gt;, but didn't feel like eating yet another night of my own cooking.  I went to a local restaurant, Lentil as Anything, which serves terrific veggie food and suggests that you pay what the meal was worth.  I got seated at a table with two other single diners, an Aussie and a Swiss.  It's a good idea, and in my opinion, much better than eating dinner alone, which I hate doing.  The entire restaurant was lit by candlelight (to save on the electricity), and we were entertained by a fire-eating performer.  Not a bad evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-4889123830873717657?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4889123830873717657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=4889123830873717657' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4889123830873717657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4889123830873717657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/water-polo-and-other-diversions.html' title='Water Polo and other Diversions'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6673115645377840132</id><published>2007-03-26T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T18:28:05.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, I Saw Ian Thorpe</title><content type='html'>(From across the arena, but it was still cool :)  I wound up going to the second night of swimming at the FINA world championships with two girls from my new, wonderful hostel.  It's just down the street from the old one, but it might as well be in a different world.  I'm in a small 4 bed female dorm, it's quiet and peaceful, and boasts the biggest, handsomest kitty in the world (sorry, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kuching&lt;/span&gt;) named Alex, short for Alexander the Great.  He's still warming up to me, but I have faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Karenza&lt;/span&gt;, one of my dorm mates, is a volunteer for the event, and I went with another girl named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Franzie&lt;/span&gt;.  They both know quite a bit about swimming, which is cool.  The swimming is held at Rod &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Laver&lt;/span&gt; arena, which normally hosts the Australian Open.  They created a temporary pool on center court, named after the Australian butterfly champ Susie O'Neill.  The arena was only 2/3 full, and many seats were filled by team members or sponsored groups.  I'm not sure how many paying ticket holders they actually got.  Since the cheapest decent seats were A$98, I think FINA priced themselves out of a full house.  I also bought tickets for water polo this afternoon.  By contrast, admission to see three water polo matches only set me back A$25.  I don't know what's up with their price structuring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we saw Brendan Hansen win the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;men's&lt;/span&gt; 100 breast, the Aussie women go 1-2 in the 100 fly, and Katie Hoff set a new Championship record in the 200 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;IM&lt;/span&gt;.  Phelps and Van Den &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hoogenband&lt;/span&gt; swam heats in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;men's&lt;/span&gt; 200 free.  They're both desperately trying to break Ian Thorpe's world record, but they've got quite a ways to go.  And I forgot half the words to the star spangled banner.  Quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melbourne's a great  city, and I'm really enjoying my time here.  St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Kilda&lt;/span&gt; beach is beautiful, although it does take a bit to get into the city center on the tram.  Melbourne is much more continental European, in contrast to Sydney's strong British influence.  There is actually a synagogue across the street from my first hostel, and a fair number of eastern European immigrants have settled here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan to go on a tour of the great ocean road on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;, and I may just have to see the fairy penguin colony on Phillips Island.  It is the biggest tourist attraction in Victoria, but I just might not care.  How often am I in the southern hemisphere, anyway?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6673115645377840132?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6673115645377840132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6673115645377840132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6673115645377840132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6673115645377840132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/hey-i-saw-ian-thorpe.html' title='Hey, I Saw Ian Thorpe'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3405155858575331304</id><published>2007-03-25T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T00:53:24.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Water Swimming</title><content type='html'>Today was a beautiful fall day in Melbourne, bright and sunny, but with cool temps a blustery 18 knot wind off the water.  I started the morning with a yoga class, my first foray into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Iyengar&lt;/span&gt;.  I was really excited to do yoga again after all this time, but wasn't prepared for the amount of prop use in this class.  Not only do you use bolsters, blankets, straps, and blocks as aids to get into poses, but we also used ropes on the walls to hold ourselves in downward dog without putting pressure on our arms.  An interesting class, to be sure, but not my thing.  I think you should be able to practice yoga with your body and a mat.  I'll have to look for other classes in the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very nice woman with blue hair on the mat next to me told me about a great veggie restaurant where you "pay what the meal was worth".  I wonder what people normally pay, but I had a great mug of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chai&lt;/span&gt; and a huge lentil burger.  I then made my way over to St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kilda&lt;/span&gt; beach where the final day of the open water world championships, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;men's&lt;/span&gt;' 25 K swim, was underway.  To put this in perspective, 25 K is 14.5 miles swum in 10 laps in the choppy, cold, unpredictable ocean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 10 laps around a 2.5 km course, and there are people on small power boats &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;following&lt;/span&gt; each swimmer in case of injury.  The course also features 2 feeding stations on opposite ends of the loop.  This is the most amazing part, I think.  A crew member will extend a long pole over the water, containing a cup with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;swimmer's&lt;/span&gt; fuel of choice, whether power drinks, gels, or bananas.  How they manage to chug the contents and get right back into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt; of their stroke is quite beyond me.  The wind was brutal on land; I can't imagine how it impacted the swimmers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Australian was favored, but a Russian wound up winning.... in 5 hours, 15 minutes.  I cannot fathom swimming for that long, especially in the ocean.  I probably would have been seasick after the first 100 meters!!  An Italian finished second, and an Egyptian third, which was a surprise to me.  He had quite the fan club, including guys wearing capes and silly hats who followed him around beating a drum and chanting.  I bet they're going to have quite the party tonight!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had thought initially that an American and the Egyptian were in a race for third...until I realized that the American was being lapped.  I cannot think of anything more disheartening... realizing you have another entire 2.5 km lap to go.  I wound up watching the end with a nice Irish couple I met in the cafe while  getting out of the wind.  They have moved to Melbourne and are in the process of renting a house and finding jobs in communications.  We had fun bitching about the people in Australian hostels.  It was definitely nice to find others with the same frame of mind.  Happily I am moving to another hostel tomorrow, one that will hopefully be a little more my speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to see if I can get tickets for this evening's swimming finals...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3405155858575331304?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3405155858575331304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3405155858575331304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3405155858575331304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3405155858575331304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/open-water-swimming.html' title='Open Water Swimming'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5569234324694376984</id><published>2007-03-23T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T17:40:21.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In which I spend much time on the train...</title><content type='html'>Other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Britishisms&lt;/span&gt;...  the "look right" signs printed on the sidewalks (very helpful to idiots like me), toilets which say "engaged" rather than occupied, "posting" a letter rather than mailing it, "call outs" for fire alarms, and the breakfast I just ate which came with fried mushrooms, tomatoes, and spinach (actually very good since I didn't get the nasty bacon or sausage).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated my hostel in Sydney so much (and had seen most of what I wanted to see in the city) that I decided it was time to move on to Melbourne.  I mean, this is a place where people are drinking beer and smoking cigarettes at 7:30 am on a Thursday morning.  The entire place smelled like Armstrong &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;late night&lt;/span&gt;.  People are practically tripping over each other to get the wonderful free breakfast: which consisted of cornflakes and milk, or toast with margarine and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Vegemite&lt;/span&gt;.  If you have not been introduced to the wonderful world of Vegemite, consider yourself lucky.  Why anyone would want to slather a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dark brown&lt;/span&gt; extremely salty spread composed of fermented Brewers' yeast on perfectly good bread is totally beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I discovered that Sydney's central train station is indeed a wonderful place.  I bought an overnight train ticket to Melbourne (12 hours), for only A$74.50, and was able to check my baggage at 8 am even though it was an evening train.  Amtrak could learn a few things from the Aussies.  I then bought a one day pass to the Blue Mountains, which consisted of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;round trip&lt;/span&gt; train ticket to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Katoomba&lt;/span&gt;, and the bus to get around the area.  All the urban subway lines and suburban commuter lines start and terminate in this station as well.  It's really very well constructed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blue Mountains are a 2 hour train ride from Sydney, and were originally a holiday retreat for rich city people.  There's a famous rock formation called "the three sisters" and something called echo point overlooking the valley.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Katoomba&lt;/span&gt; is a cute, although touristy town, and you are able to get off the bus and do some trail walking, which is a great way to escape the crowds, although not a very loud couple from New York who insisted on talking the entire way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were also several good used book stores to be perused.  You would not believe the price of new paperbacks in Australia; they regularly cost A$ 20-25.  Even a lot of the used books cost $A 8-10, which I think is a complete rip-off.  Mom, you could make a killing selling used books here!!  I enjoyed Bill Bryson's book on Australia so much that I bought a used copy of Notes from a Big Country (about the US) and have been happily making my way through it.  He's very popular here, but all the titles are published in the UK and then shipped Down Under.  I also bought a copy of The Thornbirds, which I remember as a very bad US '80's miniseries, but is supposed to be Australia's version of Gone With The Wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom...  yes, Aussies are just as guilty of shouting into their cellphones in public places as people anywhere else.  A  prime example were the group of teenagers on my return train from Katoomba who were on their way to "the Footy" (that's Australian rules football for the rest of us).  It just proves that teenagers are obnoxious all over the world :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train to Melbourne was quite comfortable, if extremely cold.  I am so greatful to have brought my sleeping sack with me, although I have discovered that I cannot sleep better with two seats instead of one.  We arrived into a world of cold weather and rain (low of 10 deg C) ... i'll be wearing that pair of jeans at last.  I took the tram to the hostel... here's hoping this one proves better than the last.  I loved the places I stayed in Vietnam and Laos; I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong here in Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The FINA (swimming, diving, syncro swimming, and water polo) world championships are all over the news, including the Aussie womens' swim team's prospects vs. the US and Germany.  Apparently the Aussie men are in a rebuilding year, except for Grant Hackett.  If I can get tickets, I'd like to see the opening night of swimming tomorrow.  The open water swim is also held tomorrow at St. Kilda, which is where I'm staying.  I'll have to see if you need tickets for beach viewing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is still pouring... I'm thinking this is a shopping and museum day.  Oh well, it can't be sunny all the time.  cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5569234324694376984?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5569234324694376984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5569234324694376984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5569234324694376984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5569234324694376984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-which-i-spend-much-time-on-train.html' title='In which I spend much time on the train...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-2607588237634718788</id><published>2007-03-21T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T03:05:53.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Britishisms</title><content type='html'>There are several subtle things here in Sydney that remind me that I am in a former British colony.  Instead of take out, they have "take away".  The rail system urges you to "mind the gap", and points you to the "way out" instead of the exit.  When you get on the escalator, you are advised to stand on the left and walk on the right (the reverse of what one does on the Metro).  Apartments are "for let", not for rent.  I am constantly looking the wrong way before trying to cross the street. Perhaps by the time I reach New Zealand it will have become second nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to mention the wildlife in Sydney itself. I have seen what I think are cockatoos (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cailin&lt;/span&gt;, help me out here), and the royal botanical gardens supports a huge colony of flying foxes in the trees.  I walked through there just before dusk yesterday when they were all starting to stir.  The rooster alarm clock has been replaced by some other bird, which I fancy to be a kookaburra (it's probably not).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I made the unfortunate discovery that the woman with the bunk below mine snores.  loudly.  With a pair of earplugs to join my sleep mask, I was undisturbed by the kookaburras and slept until 9:30.  oops.  I purchased a combination rail and ferry pass and set my destination for Manly Beach.  It's a lovely 1/2 hour ride there on a different ferry.  This one takes you to the north shore, past the entrance to Sydney harbor.  At Manly, you can swim in either the harbor or the south pacific ocean.  The overcast weather didn't detour multitudes of swimmers and surfers, or sunbathers for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a proper beach meal of fish and calamari with chips and ate it on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt; steps overlooking the water.   How many cities have a beach of this caliber just  30 minutes from their city center, and accessible by ferry?  And it's not the only one; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bondi&lt;/span&gt; beach on the south shore is far more well known (have you ever seen photos of Australians celebrating Christmas by wearing Santa hats along with their bikinis?... that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bondi&lt;/span&gt; beach).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; headed out... not sure if it'll be to Melbourne or the Blue Mountains, a few hours from Sydney.  Tomorrow, since I've already been to the zoo, perhaps I'll take yet another ferry over to Sydney Olympic Park.  And then I can visit an additional Olympic stadium in Melbourne.  Oh, the possibilities are endless :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-2607588237634718788?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/2607588237634718788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=2607588237634718788' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2607588237634718788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2607588237634718788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/britishisms.html' title='Britishisms'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-4950747220628433144</id><published>2007-03-20T02:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T02:49:03.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down Under...</title><content type='html'>My flight from Bangkok to Sydney on British Airways was quite delightful.  I had a comfortable window seat with no one behind me, and I watched the new Bond film, Casino &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Royale&lt;/span&gt;, on my own little TV screen.  I forgot to order a veggie meal and was confronted with the very British options of chicken or beef.  Luckily the flight attendant was able to snag me a nice salad from business class to fill the gap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a shuttle from the airport to the hostel driven by an Iraqi who wanted to have a long discussion about W and all the various wars.  Next time I'm going to be from Canada; it's just easier.  I'm in backpacker hell right now, which is somewhat my fault since I accidentally booked the wrong hostel online.  It's called the Jolly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Swagman&lt;/span&gt; (which is a uniquely Australian term for an itinerant traveller) and advertises that it's open 24 hours.  So exactly my cup of tea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think part of my uneasiness is that I'm in sticker shock after over a month in the wonderfully affordable land of SE Asia.  I'm spending the same amount for a bed (around $20) as for an entire day in Vietnam or Laos.  I may have to start working a couple hours per day at the hostel to cover my board.  Then I can afford to eat better.  But I should remember that I am in the NYC of Australia, and hopefully costs will be somewhat cheaper elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a wonderful day at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Taronga&lt;/span&gt; Zoo, including the ferry ride there and back across&lt;br /&gt;Sydney's famous harbour, including views of the opera house and Harbour Bridge (AKA the coat hanger), which just celebrated its 75&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; anniversary last week.  I really tried to focus on the Australian animals, which included spending much quality time with the koalas, who make the most wonderful growling/barking sounds when they are getting peeved with each other (in addition to chasing each other up and down the Eucalyptus trees).  I also discovered the wonders of Wombats (a nocturnal burrow-dwelling marsupial) and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Binturong&lt;/span&gt;, which can only be described as an adorable tree-dwelling cross between a cat, a bear, and an otter, residing mainly in Indonesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked from the hostel in Kings Cross to and from Circular Quay, from where all the passenger ferries depart.  It was around noontime, and I was struck by the sheer number of people outside exercising, whether running, playing soccer, rugby, or practicing kickboxing.  It was as though the entire city was outside being virtuous on its lunch break.  And most of these people weren't exercising to get fit; they were fit.  Really fit.  Almost an equal number were running or biking home at the end of the day, presumably with their work clothes stashed in the backpacks most of them sported.  Talk about an outdoor culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beer is surprisingly expensive here.  Single bottles in a liquor store sell for A$2.50-4.00.  A six pack of a local beer can easily cost A$15-18 (the conversion rate is 0.80...woe to the falling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;USD&lt;/span&gt;).  That's worse than take out from a bar in Philly (the only way you can buy beer other than at a state liquor store).  It's just odd for such a beer loving culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers, mate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-4950747220628433144?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4950747220628433144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=4950747220628433144' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4950747220628433144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4950747220628433144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/down-under.html' title='Down Under...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1907842884756329851</id><published>2007-03-18T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T20:51:27.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping Heaven</title><content type='html'>Bangkok is shopping heaven, here's no doubt about it.  Anything you've ever thought (or not thought) of buying, you can find it here.  There are your traditional upscale shopping malls, featuring name brand stores you can find in the states, then the luxury malls with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Versace&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Prada&lt;/span&gt;, the slightly seedier and more fun outdoor markets, such as the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Chatuchak&lt;/span&gt; weekend market, and then the craziest of all, the electronics emporiums.  I went to an electronics emporium called Fortune something yesterday because Jon needed a new router.  It is an entire shopping mall filled with nothing but hardware, accessories, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mobile&lt;/span&gt; phones, MP3 and MP4 players, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CD's&lt;/span&gt; and DVDs, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unbelievably&lt;/span&gt; cheap computer software.  You can buy a copy of the new Windows VISTA operating system for 120 Baht (about $3.50).  The prices for computers and laptops are comparable to the US, although they have more Taiwanese brands that I haven't heard of (like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Acer&lt;/span&gt;, for example).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this electronics fest, Tap and I went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Chatuchak&lt;/span&gt; weekend market, which contains something like 20,000 stalls selling merchandise from pork parts to high end furniture.  We got there via Taxi, which cost about $1.40.  It is extremely affordable to take taxis (at least for short distances) in Bangkok; I could get used to this!!  I wound up buying a t-shirt with a picture of a dove composed of many smaller bird silhouettes, and the most comfortable wide legged black pants in the world (I should have bought 2 pairs).  Not all shops carry western sizes, but these did.  Tap was looking for a traditional Thai outfit to wear to work (she works at the UN, and everyone was supposed to come in native dress).  That meant an entertaining bargaining session with the old lady who owns the stall.  I bought a whole cut up mango for 0.50 and was quite happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked a veggie and shrimp stir-fry for dinner, which wasn't bad except that it could have used some more seasonings.  Then Tap and I went to a beauty salon in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Soi&lt;/span&gt; (street) next door where she got her hair done and I got a foot massage.  Ah, bliss :)  You can buy anything in this street.  There are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; cafes, copy centers, beauty parlors, a photo store, three 7-11's, more food vendors than you can shake a stick at; even a small supermarket.  There are guys on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;motos&lt;/span&gt; waiting to take you to the sky train station for 10 baht (0.30).  Except for the congestion and insane traffic, there's a lot to be said for the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bid SE Asia farewell this evening with an overnight flight to Sydney.  I've been doing some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;preparatory&lt;/span&gt; reading for this trip with Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Bryson's&lt;/span&gt; hysterical book on Australia, appropriately entitled Down Under.  I just have to share this one passage about Cricket (which in all fairness, I have never seen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is not true that the English invented cricket as a way of making all other human endeavors look interesting and lively; that was merely an unitended side effect.  I don't wish to denigrate a sport that is enjoyed by millions, some of them awake and facing the right way, but it is an odd game.  It is the only sport that encorporates meal breaks.  It is the only sport that shares its name with an insect.  It is the only sport in which spectators burn as many calories as players (more if they are moderately restless).  It is the only competitive activity of any type, other than perhaps baking, in which you can dress in white from head to toe and be as clean at the end of the day as you were at the beginning."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1907842884756329851?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1907842884756329851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1907842884756329851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1907842884756329851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1907842884756329851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/shopping-heaven.html' title='Shopping Heaven'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-2855226950150312448</id><published>2007-03-17T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T05:21:08.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My trip to Bangkok</title><content type='html'>It was time to bid a sad farewell to Laos and head to Bangkok and the next leg of my journey.  There is a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;convenient&lt;/span&gt; tourist bus from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Paksae&lt;/span&gt; through the Lao-Thai border and all the way onto &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ubon&lt;/span&gt;, a major city where one can catch the train or the bus to Bangkok.  This bus was full with Lao, Thais, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Falangs&lt;/span&gt; alike, including two Canadians who felt it necessary to each bring a small &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Styrofoam&lt;/span&gt; cooler of beer along for the journey (I innocently asked if they had been fishing).  You have to get off the bus at each side of the border to clear customs, and these two were almost left at the Thai side.  They got back on the bus, huffing a bit, and saying "what a country, eh!!!" (no, I did not make that up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived uneventfully at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ubon&lt;/span&gt; bus station, and several people and I took a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;tuktuk&lt;/span&gt; over to the train station because I was really looking forward to that sleeper car.  Sadly, everything except third class was sold out, which then meant we had to take another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt; the 20 minutes back to the bus station where we started.  And then I got charged 3 baht to use the squat toilet... and it was extra if I wanted toilet paper (I always carry my own, thank you very much).  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Grrr&lt;/span&gt;. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the "regular" bus for 300 Baht ($8.50) instead of the VIP bus.  Both had air-conditioning, which was all I cared about.  It turned out this bus also stopped along the way, but since no one was bringing on any chickens, sacks of grain, or any other large, bulky items, I could care less.  After about an hour my seat mate left and I was able to stretch out a bit.  We arrived at the bus station at 5:30 a.m., which was really far too early an hour to call on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Hargers&lt;/span&gt;', my surrogate family in Bangkok.  I therefore decided that I was going to get there via public bus #77.  I traipsed around for hours trying to find public bus #77.  And all the time, all the helpful Thais who saw me traipsing around lugging my big backpack, suggested "Taxi".    I am not frequently stubborn, but this was going to be one of those times.  Until I finally realized that nothing was worth this amount of hassle and went and got a damn taxi.  It took 10 minutes, cost me less than $2, and got me right to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hargers&lt;/span&gt;' door.  I hate it when I'm wrong :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have now met the nicest cats in Thailand, all 8 of them.  4 of them are female orange tabbies, which are somewhat rare in the US.  They are all silky, clean, and friendly, and I feel like I'm in cat heaven at the moment.  Things have changed a bit here: Bouquet is 18 today, and Jamie will turn 13 later this year.  Jamie, Tap and I went shopping for a new camera.  I was able to find the same camera at the same price I paid in the US (except made for the Japanese market), so I'm thrilled.  We spent the better part of the morning wandering through various malls in downtown Bangkok.  Wow... this has become a shopping culture, make no mistake.  And the number of Thai males I saw with "product" in their hair was astonishing.  Jamie and I saw the movie "300," based on a graphic novel about the stand of 300 Spartan warriors against a much larger Persian army.  Too much gratuitous violence, but good for a couple hours of air-conditioned entertainment.  Now back to kitty heaven :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-2855226950150312448?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/2855226950150312448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=2855226950150312448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2855226950150312448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2855226950150312448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-trip-to-bangkok.html' title='My trip to Bangkok'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5761648650591039124</id><published>2007-03-16T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T20:37:38.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In which I get a little bit crabby</title><content type='html'>The rest of my day on the motorbike was amazing.  I rode to a massage and sauna place a little outside of town and had a traditional Thai massage.  This is done while wearing pajamas and involves the masseuse using her body as a lever to manipulate and stretch parts of yours.  Actually, it's quite enjoyable, just very different from Swedish massage.  The grand total for my hour-long massage: 20,000 Kip, or about $2.  All the massage girls kept looking at me and giggling when I was done and sitting drinking a cup of tea.  I realized later that I had gone to a very local place, not the one I had intended.  But it was a nice slice of local life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to get crabby the next day as I waited for our boat to leave for its trip down the Mekong to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Champasak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  As far as I could tell, the only impediment to our departure was the boatman, who was sitting there on shore smoking yet another cigarette and waving at me when I motioned that it was time to leave.  I was also crabby because I realized I didn't have my camera, and wasn't at all sure that I hadn't lost it the day before on the motorbike.  Once we got started, the trip down the Mekong to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Champasak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was lovely.  Although it was a hot day, the breeze moving past us cooled things off.  We passed numerous villages on the shores, and people in boats fishing among the large rocks in the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also crabby because the boat dropped us off, not at the public boat landing, but at a guest house almost 1 Km north of there, where you were almost forced to rent their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;conveniently&lt;/span&gt; more expensive bicycles.  And the boatman, after leaving 1/2 hour late, tried to tell me to be back at 2:00, not the stated time of 3:00.  I told him he would be lucky if I showed up before 3:30 ( &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I was crabby).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bicycle ride from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Champasak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to the Angkor-era ruins of Wat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Champasak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was a delight.  I don't think that many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;falangs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; ride through these villages and so all the children were very friendly, waving to me and smiling as I rode past.  I could not believe how difficult it was to cycle just 10 km under that mid-day sun.  I was exhausted by the time I reached the entrance to the ruins.  But it's amazing what one liter of water and a glass of lemon juice (what everyone in Asia seems to call lemonade) will do for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ruins of Wat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Phu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Champasak&lt;/span&gt; are lovely, striking, and blessedly free of tourists.  Well, that was my impression until I stepped the wrong way off a rock and decided walking on the uneven ground was no longer a good idea.  I limped back to the entrance and managed to convince a lovely pair of older Swiss tourists to give me and my bicycle a ride back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Champsak&lt;/span&gt;.  Along the way, I also met the nicest cat in Laos, who sat on my lap, purred, and decided my arms needed some grooming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boat ride back was blessedly uneventful, and once again a lovely way to see the river.  But once back at the guesthouse and after looking in all the places I had been the day before, I was forced to conclude that my camera was gone.  Thankfully all my pictures from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;HK&lt;/span&gt; and Vietnam are saved to disk, but those from Laos were not.  Why couldn't I have lost something less important.  You know, like my passport :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My final impression of Laos is of a young monk in his orange robes on the back of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;motorbike&lt;/span&gt; smiling and laughing at the sight of a sweaty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;falang&lt;/span&gt; (me) riding along the Mekong on a crappy blue bicycle.  I have no idea why that's funny, but I am thrilled to have brought some humor into his day!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5761648650591039124?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5761648650591039124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5761648650591039124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5761648650591039124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5761648650591039124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-which-i-get-little-bit-crabby.html' title='In which I get a little bit crabby'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-8751093778055646438</id><published>2007-03-14T01:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T01:32:33.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some observations from Laos</title><content type='html'>I'm taking it easy a bit here in Pakse, which is not so hard to do.  Yesterday I just wandered around town a bunch, and wound up taking a nap in the shade overlooking the Mekong River.  It just fits with the pace of life in this town, especially during the heat of the afternoon.  I finally managed to do a bit of shopping here; I found a shop run by a woman who makes her own jewelry (stamped and formed) out of old silver.  Expensive for Laos, cheap for the US.  But very nice, so I bought a few things.  I also had a traditional Lao skirt made for me at the market.  It's plain, with a thick band of embroidery at the bottom.  I hope I don't look ridiculous wearing it around :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is really hard for Lao people to pronounce because there is no d- or r- sound in Lao.  It usually comes out sounding more like "jeblah"!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this town so much because I am practically invisible.  Aside from the random tuk-tuk driver, no one calls out to me as I walk down the street "Hello, how are you, where you from, what's your name, how old are you, etc...".  I can browse the stalls in the market without being swarmed by shopkeepers wanting me to come to their store.  I actually have to ask someone for help if I want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In America, schoolkids get to and from school via schoolbuses.  In Laos, they use tuk-tuks.  It is absolutely adorable seeing this beat up open-aired truck full of little kids in their matching school uniforms (ok, it doesn't look that safe, but everyone travels this way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Tad Lo, it was impossible to sleep past 6 am, even if you wanted to.  Not only did the sunlight begin to stream through the windows, but we began to get all the morning sounds from the adjacent village.  The women cooking breakfast didn't bother me.  The babies crying didn't really bother me.  But those damn roosters...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aftetr getting tons of advice on how to ride a motorbike last night from Annika the German and this really nice Cuban couple (who now live in Spain), I decided to attempt it again this morning.  And it's really not that hard!!!  I had gotten myself so psyched out about the idea of having to change gears while driving, but you don't need to.  You can actually start the bike in neutral and then change to second gear before you start driving.  Ok, this is not the "correct" way to drive, but it works just fine.  Having to increase gears once you have both feet on the bike and are driving is something I can handle.  And the sense of freedom having your own wheels brings is unbelievable.  Once you get out of the city, there is not much traffic and it is just you and the open road (and the goats, and the cows).  And it's so much fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally drove this morning the 15 Km to the weaving village I had wanted to visit for some time.  The good news was I saw groups of women weaving on wooden looms set up in the shade under their raised stilt houses.  And I was the only falang (Westerner) there.  However, most of the weaving they do there is with artificially dyed non-natural fibers, which was not exactly what I was looking for.  I did find a nice length of cotton cloth in the market, and another fancier length of silk cloth in a store, so I can't complain.   All in all, a very good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-8751093778055646438?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/8751093778055646438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=8751093778055646438' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8751093778055646438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8751093778055646438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/some-observations-from-laos.html' title='Some observations from Laos'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-4061074604265730955</id><published>2007-03-12T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T05:46:39.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In which I ride an elephant!!</title><content type='html'>I'm in southern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Laos&lt;/span&gt; right now, in a town called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt;.  I've been travelling for the last couple days with two Irish girls, Laura and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kellianne&lt;/span&gt;.  They can be a bit crazy at times, but they definitely make me laugh.  We had hoped to rent motorbikes to explore the surrounding area, but unlike the mopeds, these require changing gears, and we didn't feel comfortable driving them.  That meant it was back to the Chicken bus, which was supposed to leave at 3 but departed more like 3.45.  It took more than 2 hours to go the 86 km to Tad Lo, our first stop.  But at least there were no bags of sugar, or people for that matter, in the aisle!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tad Lo is a bit of a touristy area, with several waterfalls, but it is beautiful.  We got a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bungalow&lt;/span&gt; (for a total of $5 a night) at Tim's, which is where everyone seems to hang out.  The first night we met an awesome Kiwi couple, Julie and Brandon.  They had started travelling in Europe with a converted postal van and had just gotten engaged en route.  The 5 of us wound up going on a trek the next morning through the local countryside, which encompasses several villages, guided by an extremely spry 72 year old!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That afternoon, Laura and I rode an Asian elephant.  She was a spring chicken at about 65 years old!! (I believe the other elephant was 67).  It takes a while to get used to the slow, rocking motion that characterizes elephant ambulation.  I liked that our guide did not have a hook or crop and simply directed her with his feet behind her ears.  I tried sitting on her neck at the end, which was so cool!!  You can feel the motion of her shoulders beneath you as she walks, so it is a bit of a balancing act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, on the other hand, was totally crazy.  We arranged to take a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt; the 80 or so kilometers to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Paksong&lt;/span&gt;, the center of Laos coffee growing area on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bolaven&lt;/span&gt; plateau.  We got there, intending to rent bicycles and travel to Tad Fan, a spectacular waterfall at the edge of a national protected area.  Unfortunately, you cannot rent bicycles in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Paksong&lt;/span&gt;, nor can you really find anyone who speaks English or French.  In fact, there's really nothing at all to do.  We then decided we would take our bags and stay the night at Tad Fan resort right by the waterfall, even though it was a bit pricey.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt; ride there was not bad, although we did backtrack to a woman's house at the start so she could bring her duvet with her!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to Tad Fan, only to find the prices were double what was listed in our guidebook.  After seeing the waterfall, we decide the best option is to return to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt;.  It's around 5 pm, at which time the bus and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt; traffic starts to die out, so getting transport might be a little iffy.  We had been standing by the side of the road a few minutes when a westerner in a nice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;NGO&lt;/span&gt;-type 4 wheel drive vehicle stops and agrees to take us to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt;!!  It turns out he was a Swiss doctor named Vincent who was working for a small Swiss medical &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;NGO&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Attapeu&lt;/span&gt;, one of the more remote provinces in southern Laos.  His whole family, including wife and 2 and 4 year old daughters were here, and his older daughter attends a Lao school. It was a huge stroke of luck at the end of a day that hadn't turned out exactly as planned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have twisted my left ankle a bit and so need to take it easy for the next few days.  I learned from Annika, the nice German woman at the hostel who gave me Ibuprofen, that it and most other NSAIDS are prescription only in much of Europe.  And I thought having the Sudafed behind the pharmacy counter was a pain!!  I think tomorrow I will visit several weaving villages around Pakse and then take it from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this, please comment.  I would love to hear from you :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-4061074604265730955?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/4061074604265730955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=4061074604265730955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4061074604265730955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/4061074604265730955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-which-i-ride-elephant.html' title='In which I ride an elephant!!'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-637497171208871143</id><published>2007-03-09T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T00:48:48.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trekking in Savannakhet Province</title><content type='html'>The two day trek in Dong Natal National Protected Area really turned out to be a pleasant surprise.  There were 5 of us : me, a British couple, Ellie and Adam, and two Irishwomen, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kellianne&lt;/span&gt; and Laura.  We took a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tuktuk&lt;/span&gt; to the start of the trek, which was near the Hang &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Stupa&lt;/span&gt;, one of the most important in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Savannakhet&lt;/span&gt; province.  The base was built in the Hindu style by the Khmer (Cambodian people) almost 2000 years ago.  When the area came back under Lao control, they finished the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;stupa&lt;/span&gt; in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Buddhist&lt;/span&gt; style.  All the women had to put on these ridiculous long wrap skirts to enter the temple; I don't remember other temples having such stringent rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then started our trek through the rice fields and the surrounding forest.  We had a local guide who really knew some amazing things about our environment.  He showed us the larval forms of butterflies (which are edible) resembling white fluff.  They are insects and will jump off the branches if disturbed.  We learned about a species of red ant whose insides (when crushed) are good for treating insect and snake bites.  We saw many different &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;species&lt;/span&gt; of spiders, some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;poisonous&lt;/span&gt;, some not.  Even the plants are amazing.  We ate leaves from several different plants., sucked the nectar from flowers, and drank water from the inside of thorny vine plants.  One species of tree even yields a type of tar or pitch that can be lit to use for lamps and torches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day was 18Km, which is not that far, but it was very hot when we weren't in the shade.  I felt bad for our guides, who were carrying all the food for lunch.  The sticky rice was wonderful.  The other foods were less so, except for the very tasty and filling bananas.  I especially avoided the liver on a stick!!  We arrived to our host village around 4 pm.  Everyone was very friendly and welcoming to us.  Even though this village is only 15 Km from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Savannakhet&lt;/span&gt;, it seemed like they were much less used to foreign visitors than any of the places around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Sapa&lt;/span&gt;.  The owner of the house and some of his neighbors had a welcoming ceremony for us, during which they tied on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Lao&lt;/span&gt;-style sashes and loosely tied pieces of string around our wrists.  Each one is for a different aspect of safe travelling, and you are supposed to let them fall off of their own accord.  Even though I know it was made up for us tourists, the ceremony was quite nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chatted with our guide in the evening, teaching him various English words.  Somehow he got started on "This is the BBC, reporting from Laos.  Now back to the news desk."  It was much funnier said by someone with first a British, and then a Lao accent.  That theme continued throughout the night and into the next day.  We slept on mattresses on the floor and were covered by a big mosquito net.  Quite comfortable, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only bad thing about the trek was breakfast: a bowl of noodles in a glue-type broth.  I absolutely could not make myself eat them, even with scallions, fish sauce, and chili.  I wound up spooning some into another dish and giving them to the nursing dog who had been eyeing me hopefully.  I know it was a rude thing to do in someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; house, but I wasn't going to eat them, and the dog was starving.  I hope my actions didn't offend our hosts too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, the trek was a great experience.  We visited the school the next morning and said hi to all the children, who are absolutely adorable.  Ellie and Adam wound up teaching an English class to a group of 15 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;.  No one was willing to volunteer information on their own, but they did much better when they could answer questions as a group.  I met the principal, who was old enough to speak French, and had a nice conversation with him.  Then it turned out that our guide also spoke French.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Quel&lt;/span&gt; surprise!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 of us are taking the bus to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt;, further south, this evening.  And stop asking me for pictures of the Swedish girls; I don't have any :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-637497171208871143?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/637497171208871143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=637497171208871143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/637497171208871143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/637497171208871143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/trekking-in-savannakhet-province.html' title='Trekking in Savannakhet Province'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-810390454443741055</id><published>2007-03-07T02:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T02:46:51.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The SLOWWW Life</title><content type='html'>I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Savannakhet&lt;/span&gt;, Laos is the slowest place on earth.  Now mind you, as I travel further south in Laos, my opinion could change!!  This is the 3rd largest city in Laos, yet it resembles a ghost town, even during rush hour.  There are some cars and motorbikes moving past, and some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tuk&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tuks&lt;/span&gt;, but the streets are largely and surprisingly empty.  The main plaza in town now sports two boys kicking around a ball,  but has been completely devoid of life the other times I've walked past.  Most of the restaurants close by 9 pm.  I think after a few days of this, I would be tearing my hair out.  Because except for eating, sleeping, and walking around town, there is nothing to do here.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, there's a dinosaur museum.  But that's it.  For today, however, being a bum has been lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do get to stretch my legs a little tomorrow as I have scheduled a 2 day trek into a local national protected area to see some local people and spend the night in the forest.  I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;there'll&lt;/span&gt; be 4 other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Brits&lt;/span&gt; along.  Scheduling it was a good example of the Lao concept of time; the office is only open from 8-11:30 and 1:30-4:00.  We arrived at 2 pm to find the office still locked up because the "boss" wasn't back with the key yet.  You would think they'd want our money!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Swedes and I are parting company after tonight, now that they have paid me back the money I lent them to buy visas.  They are all very nice girls, but I am really feeling the difference between 30 and 19!!  We parted ways for a bit this morning because they don't really eat breakfast and I was craving a proper meal at a little French cafe.  I even had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Cappuccino&lt;/span&gt;. YUM.  The other thing that bugs me about them is that they are all wearing strapless tops and short or semi see-through skirts.  While this is great beach attire, I don't feel it's appropriate dress in a country where all the women wear loose blouses and long skirts.  But maybe that's just me showing my age again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the trek, I plan to catch the evening bus to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt;, from where it is most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;convenient&lt;/span&gt; to explore the rest of Southern Laos.  This place does have one thing going for it: not one person has asked me my name, where I'm from, or for money today :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-810390454443741055?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/810390454443741055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=810390454443741055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/810390454443741055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/810390454443741055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/slowww-life.html' title='The SLOWWW Life'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-7227196824353825032</id><published>2007-03-06T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T05:20:22.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In which I pay $25 for the Chicken Bus!!!</title><content type='html'>Oh, this is a good one.  It's mostly my fault for being a sucker and paying way too much for bus service that, in practice, doesn't really exist, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; still ticked at myself.  I think I was just so excited to find that I could take a bus from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hoi&lt;/span&gt; An, rather than having to return to Hue and spend the night, that I didn't question how expensive it was.  I was the only person on the bus going to Laos; the rest were travelling north to Hanoi.  The bus driver was absolutely no help in trying to explain to me what was going on; I had to rely on the good graces of a fellow Vietnamese passenger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to Dong Ha, I got personally handed off to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;owner&lt;/span&gt; of the cafe where everyone ate dinner; he was going to take me to the hotel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;where the&lt;/span&gt; bus would pick me up the next morning.  The hotel was totally crappy with rock-hard beds, an insufficient hot water heater, and a very loud cooling system.  I had stayed in $2.50 hotels that were better, and this one charged $10.  Wonder if my driver was getting a kick-back for bringing me there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 5:45 the next morning, I got on the minibus for the thankfully uneventful drive to the border.  Once there, I had a breakfast of vegetarian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Pho&lt;/span&gt; (noodle soup).  I think I identified a piece of liver in my neighbor's bowl, and really didn't want to think about the identity of the rest.  Then we waited, and waited, and finally caught up with the 4 Swedish girls we had been waiting for at the border. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get on a new bus once in Laos.  For some reason, given the price of my ticket, I assumed this would be  a nice tourist bus.  Whatever could I have been thinking?  Oh no, we were on the chicken bus to end all chicken buses, and at least we had seats, as opposed to all the poor buggers sitting on the sacks in the aisle.  There were boxes under all the seats, in the cargo areas. and covering the entire top of the bus.  People with businesses basically use the public bus as a means of transporting goods;  no matter that they're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;inconveniencing&lt;/span&gt; everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus honestly would not have been quite as bad had not all the people around me been constantly smoking cigarettes, throwing all their trash out the window, and spilling beer all over me.  And it was really, really hot.  My entire left arm is sunburned from sticking it and my face out the window trying to avoid the cigarette smoke.  Oh, and let's not forget the food  vendors who hold their wares up to the bus windows at "rest" stops.  I would swear that one of them was selling cockroaches on a stick.  The rest were just holding up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;unidentifiable&lt;/span&gt; meat and stretched out chicken wings.  The biggest joke of all was being constantly passed by nicer, more comfortable tourist buses.  And all I could think was : why aren't I on one of those? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Price to the locals: $3.  Price to me (from Vietnam): $25. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I am now clean and fed (and had my first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;BeerLao&lt;/span&gt; of the trip).  I'm sharing a room with two of the Swedish girls, since we all needed a place to stay, and I lent them $85 to pay for their Laos visas!!  The banks were closed when we arrived, so we'll have to go tomorrow morning.  I may be heading to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Pakse&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow, as there is not much to do here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Savannakhet&lt;/span&gt;.  I think most of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; people here are very nice.  I've just had my fill of "local" transit for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-7227196824353825032?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7227196824353825032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=7227196824353825032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7227196824353825032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7227196824353825032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/in-which-i-pay-25-for-chicken-bus.html' title='In which I pay $25 for the Chicken Bus!!!'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3418851865888773665</id><published>2007-03-06T04:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T02:28:34.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Match Day</title><content type='html'>Match day finally arrived yesterday. Results were available at 8 am EST, which meant that I had to wait until 8 pm with the time difference here. By 8 pm, I had already been on a bus for 6+ hours, yelled at the driver for not telling me when, where, and how I was supposed to get to Laos the next day, and been dropped off at the very crappy hotel from which I would be picked up the next morning. So it was with great trepidation that I logged into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;VIRMP&lt;/span&gt; website from a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; cafe in Dong Ha, Vietnam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is that I matched. The great news is that I matched to an academic program.  So next year I will be one of 8 small animal interns at the University of Illinois in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Champaign&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Urbana&lt;/span&gt;. I have never been there, and I know nothing about the program other than what they post in their description on the website. So this is a huge leap into the dark, but very exciting nonetheless. I guess I'll have to learn to say pop instead of soda (no, never). Wow... talk about the hands of fate in your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3418851865888773665?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3418851865888773665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3418851865888773665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3418851865888773665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3418851865888773665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/match-day.html' title='Match Day'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1735269851086526782</id><published>2007-03-03T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T18:36:31.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoi An</title><content type='html'>The bus to Hoi An was much more comfortable, as it was only a 4 hour trip.  The only thing I didn't like was that they dropped us off at a specific hotel they had a contract with, instead of at a nice central location in town.  I'm staying at the Greenfield Hotel, the most expensive place yet in Vietnam ($8), although they do have a very nice swimming pool.  Hoi An is a beautiful old historic city that is largely intact because both sides during the Vietnam War agreed not to bomb it.  There are several old temples, a historic Japanese bridge, and tailor shops EVERYWHERE!!  I hate shopping for clothes, but I have seen many many tourists walking around in their new creations.  Actually, I am having a custom pair of blue jeans made, since it will be chilly in New Zealand when I get there.  I also decided to buy a pair of suede sneakers in purple, black, and blue.  They are either going to be really cool, or really lame (and if they are it is totally my fault).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I took a cooking class at the Red Bridge Cooking School, which also supports WWF (World Wildlife Foundation) projects in Vietnam.  There were only 7 of us (all women), and first we had a tour of the market, looking at the fruits, vegetables, and herbs.  Our guide was a really funny (or at least I thought he was funny) Vietnamese man.  The school is about 4 km upstream, so we had a nice boat ride to get there.  It turned out the menu was entirely vegetarian or seafood, so I could eat everything.  We even learned how to make fresh rice paper for spring rolls.  You actually make a batter from soaked rice and water, and steam it on a piece of cloth stretched over a pot of boiling water.  It's somewhat like making a steamed crepe.  We also made Hoi An pancakes, which are made with the same batter but include shrimp, scallions and bean sprouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things I have noticed on the trip so far is how incredibly friendly all my fellow travellers are.  The night before I was invited to play pool by a couple from Auckland who were on their honeymoon.  They gave me their address and contact info and I hope to see a rugby match with them when I am there.  Then at the cooking class, two Australian ladies (one in Brisbane and one in Sydney) both offered me a place to stay.  It's just amazing; I don't think most Americans would do the same.  I don't know if it's because we're not as welcoming, or not as used  to meeting people on journeys.  Last night at dinner ( a really excellent place called Cafe des Amis)  I wound up getting into an hour conversation with the couple sitting next to me, who were from Alberta halfway between Calgary and Edmonton. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally caught up with Andi and Tassi last night.  We were supposed to meet yesterday afternoon at the Japanese bridge, but my cooking class ran late and our paths never crossed.  We shared a room last night, and then they are off to Nha Trang this evening.  I am catching the bus to Savannakhet in Laos tomorrow at 2 pm.  I will be sad to leave Vietnam; this really has been a great part of my trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1735269851086526782?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1735269851086526782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1735269851086526782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1735269851086526782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1735269851086526782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/hoi.html' title='Hoi An'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1968287798009192584</id><published>2007-03-01T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T22:04:50.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(Getting to) Hue</title><content type='html'>It is indeed warmer, as I am currently in central Vietnam, in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;the town&lt;/span&gt; of Hue.  I continue to be healthy, with my fingers crossed.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;It seems&lt;/span&gt; as though the flu is truly a thing of the past. Getting here,however, was not the most enjoyable experience.  We were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;supposedly taking&lt;/span&gt; the nice "tourist bus" from Hanoi to Hue, with only one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;other stop&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ninh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Binh&lt;/span&gt;.  What do you know, but magically that one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;stop expanded&lt;/span&gt; into one of the side of the road for a large bundle from a guy driving a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;moto&lt;/span&gt;, and multiple stops to pick up people seemingly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;in the&lt;/span&gt; middle of the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This resulted, when we arrived in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ninh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Binh&lt;/span&gt;, in a totally overcrowded bus.  The bus driver solved this by throwing several people off the bus. Why he let them on in the first place when he knew the bus was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;full is&lt;/span&gt; beyond me.  Even still, several backpackers couldn't get on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;the bus&lt;/span&gt;, and several more had to spend the 13 hour drive lying in the aisle.  To say they were not pleased about this arrangement would bean understatement.  Probably the most comfortable person on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;bus was&lt;/span&gt; the guy who pulled out his hammock and went to sleep in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;the aisle&lt;/span&gt;, seemingly oblivious to the numerous people trying to step &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;over and&lt;/span&gt; around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to deal with the situation in good humor, as things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;could have&lt;/span&gt; been SO much worse.  However, I thought we were paying enough money to get past the "chicken bus" mentality.  When I saw the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;actual chicken&lt;/span&gt; bus, I realized we were about 5 steps up from there.  I cannot imagine spending 13 hours standing up in the aisle of a bus, not to mention it would be incredible unsafe.But we arrived and were assaulted by the usual barrage of touts &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;and their&lt;/span&gt; hotels and tour packages.  That is always my least &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;favorite part&lt;/span&gt; of travelling: arriving hot and tired in a place lugging &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;your huge&lt;/span&gt; backpack and trying to find a place to stay so you can get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;off the&lt;/span&gt; street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hue is an old walled city, although in actuality nothing here &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;is older&lt;/span&gt; than 200 years.  Hue is also the only town in South Vietnam &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;to have&lt;/span&gt; been occupied by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Viet&lt;/span&gt; Cong for several weeks early in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;the war&lt;/span&gt; '68 or '69.  There is a lovely forbidden city which was home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;to the&lt;/span&gt; rulers of Vietnam before the overthrow in 1945.  Otherwise, Hue is not that interesting.   I did have an amusing experience at lunch, when I asked to see the kittens from the owner's obviously nursing cat.  She brought me one; like all the animals in Vietnam it was cute, but quite sickly and desperately needed a bath.  When we were leaving she asked if I wanted to take the kittens with me!!  Tempting, but impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We encountered people selling all sorts of Vietnam War (here it is called the American War) memorabilia.  One boy said his father had been collecting it from the jungle for the last 30 years.  Although they had lots of ammunition, body armor, and weapons, the part that creeped me out were all the dogtags.  Although I don't know for sure that all these men died in the war, it's a very stark reminder of the recent past.  We wound up getting a cyclo (basically bicycle rickshaws) tour of the old city.  The main driver had this whole story about how his father was killed in the war, which caused him to become a devout Buddhist and renounce violence.  I have to wonder if it was true, or made up for the tourists (I don't mean to sound so cynical, but it is entirely possible).  At the end, they just wanted to get more money out of us, but I did still think the tour was a valuable experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have arrived in Hoi An without the Germans, although Andi and Tassi are coming tomorrow.  Sven, alas, has to head back home.  They are touring the DMZ and Ho Chi Minh Trail today.  I will wander around Hoi An and set up a cooking class for tomorrow, I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1968287798009192584?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1968287798009192584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1968287798009192584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1968287798009192584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1968287798009192584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/03/getting-to-hue.html' title='(Getting to) Hue'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1257036588276180323</id><published>2007-02-27T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T22:06:52.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sapa, cont'd</title><content type='html'>Apparently we were a very slow group, since we arrived at the designated lunch site at least an hour later than usual.  There was just so much to see along the way.  When we arrived, instead of taking showers we all elected to go for a swim in the local "jacuzzi".  They had built a bathing pool using water from a local &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hot spring&lt;/span&gt;, and sitting in there and looking at the surrounding mountains and village was just amazing.  Definitely one of the most beautiful places &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; ever been in a jacuzzi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner Pet encouraged us to try the local rice wine, which most people brew themselves.  It is very similar to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Arak&lt;/span&gt;, which I drank in Borneo on my last trip.  VERY potent, but otherwise not too bad.  I would not care to drink more than a couple small glasses, however.  The next morning we elected to walk to the local waterfall rather than trek to another tribe.  After we returned, I managed to pick up the very sickly looking black cat I had been surreptitiously feeding under the table the night before.  This was a huge mistake because a) she really didn't like being held and 2) she left black streaks all over my clothing, including my face.  Any healthy cat worth her salt is an immaculate groomer, so clearly this one clearly was not so well off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip back was really rather anticlimactic.  We got dropped off in Lao &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cai&lt;/span&gt;, spent a couple hours killing time at dinner, and headed out on the night train.  The four of us were in the same sleeper cabin, this time a plush new one with beverage service.  Not too bad.  Today has been very lazy, with the primary goal of getting most of my clothes washed!!  That, catching up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;, and doing some last minute strolling around Hanoi before we head down south.  The bus for Hue leaves this evening for the 14 hour journey.  It'll be interesting to see how it compares to the train.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1257036588276180323?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1257036588276180323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1257036588276180323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1257036588276180323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1257036588276180323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/sapa-contd.html' title='Sapa, cont&apos;d'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3232050085362262808</id><published>2007-02-27T15:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T16:04:07.607-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sapa and Trekking</title><content type='html'>Our next journey was to the far north of Vietnam, almost to the Chinese border, to an area called the highlands which is home to many of Vietnam's minority peoples.  I almost didn't get to go since all the sleeper trains to Lao &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cai&lt;/span&gt; were booked for that evening.  Then, at the last minute, a seat opened up and I was able to go.  I got to the train station on the back of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Moto&lt;/span&gt;, which is quite an experience when you are wearing a large backpack.  The train station was chaos as three fully booked overnight trains were leaving and my train was quite late.   I got out on to the tracks, only to discover that the train only had 10 cars and I was booked on car #11!!  Luckily there were many other people in this predicament and they told me cars 10 and 11 had just been added and would be arriving separately!!  I met a couple French people and had a nice conversation with them in French while we were waiting.  Since I am travelling with people who speak another language, it has made me try to think how to say things in French again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our sleeper car was a bit ghetto, but considering it was the soft sleeper with only 4 people in the cabin, we were actually travelling in luxury.  I felt bad for the people making the overnight journey on hard benches with no cushions.  I actually did manage to sleep and arrived at Lao &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cai&lt;/span&gt; somewhat rested.  We got picked up and made the hour-long journey to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sapa&lt;/span&gt; over twisting, winding roads.  The scenery is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;indescribably&lt;/span&gt; spectacular, all dramatic green covered hills covered with terraced rice paddies, interspersed with small villages and grazing water buffalo.  The villages are an animal lover's delight, and it is the season for babies. During my visit, I saw calves, kids, chicks, ducklings, piglets, puppies, kittens, and lots of adult animals.  I think the piglets win, however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started our trek with our guide, Pet, who is from the  Red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dzou&lt;/span&gt; people.  She is the second youngest of 13 children, and all her 11 older siblings are married.  Several of their children (her nieces and nephews) are older than she is.  Her parents were angry at her for a long time for refusing an arranged marriage at 16 with a man she had never even met.  They also tried to set her up with two other men, who she also refused.  Pet is 19 and learned English from tourists, enabling her to be a guide.  She is paying for her youngest sister to go to high school, which is not free in Vietnam.  Her sister is the first person in Pet's family to attend high school, although Pet would like to someday.  She was wearing the most amazing outfit, which she embroidered herself.  I wound up buying my own outfit from Pet's mom, who we met on our return to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sapa&lt;/span&gt;.  I may only wear it for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt;, or hang it on the wall, but it is truly spectacular.  There goes another million dong!!  At least I am doing my best to support the local economy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trek was just beautiful, through the rice fields and up and down over the hills.  The footing was quite difficult, although not for Pet, who just bounced over the path as though she was on a paved road.  All the women carry big umbrellas, for protection from the sun, the rain, and as a walking stick if needed.  Soon after we started our trek, we were joined by a huge contingent of women and girls from the Black Hmong, who followed us for several miles before turning back.  They have a standard repertoire of English questions, and reply with standard answers.  When you tell them your name, they will say "Oh, very pretty".  And when you tell you how old you are, no matter if you are 6 or 60, the standard response is "oh, very young".  They were a lot of fun, although they are all selling handicrafts (many of them from other tribes) and their sales tactics can be a bit pushy.  However, I really felt I had to buy something from these women who had walked all this way with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the highlight of the walk for me was standing on a water buffalo (yes, I have a picture).  Pet did it first and assured me that the buffalo don't mind (he then stood up, so I think he did mind).  But then I scratched his head and I think all was forgiven.  We made very slow progress, in part because Andi was so popular with the children and had to stop and buy something from almost everyone she met.  We wound up getting matching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Vietnamese&lt;/span&gt; style shirts (mine is purple with a green border) at the place we stopped for tea.  It's a cool shirt, but I am not coordinated enough to button it myself :)  I managed to have a dog follow me all the way from the bridge to the place we stopped for lunch, where I fed him cheese and hard boiled eggs.  He was a little mangy, but very friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were joined on this trek by 2 Aussies from Melbourne, Shem and Claire.  Claire is a pediatric nurse and is going to be volunteering at an orphanage in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Hoi&lt;/span&gt; An for 4 weeks.  Shem is a water engineer, whatever that means :)  Once again I am the oldest, although at least I am only 2 years older than Sven.  We were all very tired by the time we finally arrived in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;homestay&lt;/span&gt; village.  The house itself is really nice, and we slept upstairs on mattresses covered by mosquito nets.  There was a beautiful concrete patio looking out over the terraced rice fields and the village.  Somehow we managed to start playing a drinking game (something I have not done since college) and consumed 39 beers between us!!  We laughed a lot, which Pet thought was very funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3232050085362262808?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3232050085362262808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3232050085362262808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3232050085362262808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3232050085362262808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/sapa-and-trekking.html' title='Sapa and Trekking'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5996252329646386164</id><published>2007-02-27T15:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T15:31:59.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halong Bay and the Vietnamese Highlands</title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't been on-line in about 6 days, but it's because I've been having such a good time.  I've been on two trips during that time, the first to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Halong&lt;/span&gt; Bay, which is this amazing body of water full of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;karst&lt;/span&gt; caves and rocks sticking straight up from the water.  It is a great place to go exploring on a boat, and also to do some kayaking and swimming.  I have been travelling with "the Germans" for the past six days, Sven, Andrea, and Anastasia.  Sven, amusingly enough, has done an internship right outside Philadelphia and was wearing a West Chester University sweatshirt when I met them!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went by ourselves on the bus to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Halong&lt;/span&gt; Bay, which was an interesting experience involving three buses and a boat before we finally arrived in the town of Cat Ba.  It's not much of a town, and it was clearly low season as our hotel was largely empty.  We had two rooms with balconies facing the bay.  The walk up to the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; floor was a bit daunting, but the view more than made up for it.  Our hotel owner arranged a boat for us (owned by his cousin, of course) and we set out for a tour of the bay. What amazed me the most were all the floating houses in the fishing villages.  They are surrounded by a latticework of nets with wooden frames.  All of these places have at least one dog, and all I could think about was all these dogs with absolutely nowhere to run.  I suppose they could swim, but I didn't see any of them in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We really lucked out with the weather, as it rains a lot in the area this time of year.  the sun was deceptively strong under the light cloud cover, and I did wind up getting burned a little bit.  We picked up kayaks from "the kayak guy" who basically runs a floating business out in the middle of the bay.  Kayaking was lots of fun, although &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Andrea&lt;/span&gt; and Anastasia managed to capsize their kayak and had to be rescued by our boat.  There is lots of coral and some interesting shells washed up on the various beaches throughout the bay.  I felt very lucky to be on a small boat with only 4 people, and we really didn't see too too many other tourists out on the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "tourist special" for breakfast is banana pancakes, and I have eaten many of them so far in Vietnam, along with pseudo french bread with butter and jam.  I love the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Vietnamese&lt;/span&gt; coffee, which is very strong and served along with sweetened condensed milk.  Most of the tea to be found is either local &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Vietnamese&lt;/span&gt; tea (green tea, a bit bitter), or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Lipton&lt;/span&gt;!!  I guess I wasn't expecting that.  We went to a fish restaurant for dinner when we got back to Hanoi; they only serve one dish of fried fish with greens, noodles, fish sauce, and peanuts.  You cook the vegetables yourself at the table, and the restaurant is popular with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Vietnamese&lt;/span&gt; as well as tourists.  Very fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5996252329646386164?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5996252329646386164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5996252329646386164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5996252329646386164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5996252329646386164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/halong-bay-and-vietnamese-highlands.html' title='Halong Bay and the Vietnamese Highlands'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-939742322556875415</id><published>2007-02-22T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:27:14.308-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Madam</title><content type='html'>I'm beginning to think that's my name, usually followed by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;moto&lt;/span&gt;?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cyclo&lt;/span&gt;?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bananna&lt;/span&gt;?  pineapple?  But despite the usual amount of street heckling, I have really found Hanoi to be a wonderful city.  It's a little rough at the edges, and crossing the street often turns into an unwanted adventure sport, but there is much to see and in general the people are warm and friendly.  Even though there are traffic lights at most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;intersections&lt;/span&gt;, the legions of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Moto&lt;/span&gt; drivers tend to view them as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;suggestions&lt;/span&gt;, rather than required.  The trick to crossing the street with all of the turning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;moto&lt;/span&gt; drivers (even though you have the right of way) is to walk very slowly so that they can judge their progress and thus avoid hitting you.  craziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went to pay my respects to Mr. Ho Chi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Minh&lt;/span&gt;.  He is preserved in a mausoleum, much the way Lenin is in St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Petersberg&lt;/span&gt;.  Since he died in 1969, I find this more than a bit creepy.  The room is quite cold, and he is placed in repose, as though merely sleeping.  It could very well just be a wax figure, which i would find infinitely less disturbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I intended to go straight from there to the Temple of Literature, the site of the first university in Vietnam, founded in 1070.  Due to my fabulous sense of direction, however, I wound up getting a longer tour of the surrounding neighborhood than I had bargained for.  By the time I reached the Temple, I was starving and had a great lunch of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;falafel&lt;/span&gt; wrap and this mint-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;passionfruit&lt;/span&gt; shake at a restaurant which trains street kids for careers in the hospitality industry.  Then it was on to shopping at Craft Link, which is a non-profit organization selling handicrafts from minority peoples in Vietnam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my big splurge of the trip thus far, as I decided to buy  a large piece of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ikat&lt;/span&gt;, which is very intricate hand-dyed and hand-woven silk, for the enormous sum of 975,000 Dong.  That's only $60, but it was quite a big purchase.  I also bought two smaller pieces of weaving.   That quite satisfies my shopping bug for the moment, leaving me free to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;sightsee&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did finally make it to the temple of literature, which is an amazing complex of restored historic buildings, including 80 something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;stellae&lt;/span&gt; on the backs of turtles containing the names of everyone who passed their doctorate examinations in a certain year.  It is good luck to rub the turtles' heads, despite the numerous signs in Vietnamese asking visitors to refrain.  I once again got lost travelling from there back to the hostel, and actually had to break down and take one of the ubiquitous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;motos&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy hour at the roof bar quite restored my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;equinimity&lt;/span&gt;.  We then attempted to find a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Bia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Hoi&lt;/span&gt; place (one of the fresh beer joints that pop up all over Hanoi and are frequented by locals).  We thought we had found one, stuck our behinds on the tiny little seats on the sidewalks, only to discover the liquid being served was hot tea!!!  Boy did we feel stupid, but politeness dictated we really had to drink it.  I think the lesson is that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Bia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Hoi&lt;/span&gt; must be found and consumed earlier in the day!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-939742322556875415?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/939742322556875415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=939742322556875415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/939742322556875415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/939742322556875415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/hello-madam.html' title='Hello, Madam'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-7107022439280177828</id><published>2007-02-21T08:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T18:16:30.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Museums and Lakes</title><content type='html'>Well, there are some honest cab drivers in Hanoi.   Certainly the one who drove us to the Museum of Ethnography, if not the one who drove us back and tried to charge us 4 times the price.  This museum detailing the 54 minority ethnic groups of Vietnam is really fantastic, if a bit overwhelming at times with all of the costumes, artifacts, and dioramas.  Since it is still Tet (the Lunar New Year), there are many special programs, including the 4 mythical creatures dance featuring a dragon, lion, tortoise, and phoenix.  I felt bad for the actor playing the tortoise, who had to bend and scrunch himself inside this costume while walking only about 2 feet off the ground!!  The best part of the museum was, of course, the gift shop.  I bought several pieces from the Hmong and one from an another unknown minority group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the day I spent wandering around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hoan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kiem&lt;/span&gt; lake in the center of the Old Quarter, which means "Lake of the Restored Sword" because of a mythical tortoise who supposedly restored a sword to his owners.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ngoc&lt;/span&gt; Son Temple resides in the center of the lake and is well worth a visit.  Unfortunately, the weather remained overcast and spitting, so I took a break for some Vietnamese coffee at one point.  Asking for only a small amount of sweetened condensed milk was a mistake, as the resulting liquid was strong enough to power rocket ships!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had intended to visit the famous water puppetry theater later that evening, but got sucked into the happy hour crowd at the hostel's rooftop bar.  It was quite a nice group of people, even if Andreas, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Swedish&lt;/span&gt; guy, was born in 1987.  we wound up playing pool (badly) at an Irish pub and I had quite a respectable plate of fish and chips for $4.50.  Our quest to then find a local &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hoi&lt;/span&gt; (fresh beer, basically a bar where they brew their own beer) place was unsuccessful, but I think we know where to go this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am off to the temple of literature, Ho Chi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Minh's&lt;/span&gt; Mausoleum, and more shopping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-7107022439280177828?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7107022439280177828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=7107022439280177828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7107022439280177828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7107022439280177828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/museums-and-lakes.html' title='Museums and Lakes'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1464293259861404609</id><published>2007-02-20T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T17:13:17.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from Hanoi</title><content type='html'>I'm finally in Hanoi, Culture Club is playing on the radio (never mind that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; probably the only person here old enough to remember when this was actually a hit), and life is good.  I flew from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong yesterday, a nice uneventful trip.  The shuttle from the airport was $2, and very good, even though i was the only white person on it.  The little girl sitting next to me fell asleep with her head on my shoulder during the trip in, which i found quite endearing.  Immediately after heading towards the city center, the roads were lined with grazing cattle (and some water buffalo, i think) and the spectacular, verdant green of rice paddies.  Despite the fondness of the shuttle driver for his horn, and the incessant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;moto&lt;/span&gt; drivers offering me rides, I can tell that this is much more my type of place than is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying at a place called Hanoi Backpackers, which is basically a big dorm, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;albeit&lt;/span&gt; a very nice one. My bed is extremely comfortable, much more than the one i slept in for so many nights in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong.  However, there are other downsides, such as snoring roommates, and walking in on naked boys in the bathroom( there's a door to the shower: I don't understand why he wasn't in there).  Anyway, my quest for dinner last night was easily met by a cute little cafe on the square next to the catholic cathedral.  Easily the best dinner &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; had my whole trip (well, except for the sushi) and I sat at a table with an older Australian woman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;industriously&lt;/span&gt; writing postcards.  We got to talking and are going to visit the Ethnographic museum this morning, for which i have high hopes.  Cheers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1464293259861404609?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1464293259861404609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1464293259861404609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1464293259861404609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1464293259861404609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/greetings-from-hanoi.html' title='Greetings from Hanoi'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-966536907709044632</id><published>2007-02-18T04:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T04:33:57.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Day</title><content type='html'>Don't worry; I have had some positive experiences in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong :)  Yesterday, after a nap, I decided to get out and experience all the throngs of people milling in the streets outside the hostel.  Many had clearly come from the nearby New Year's Market in Victoria Park and were carrying the spoils.  These ranged from beautifully arranged gladiolas, orchids, pussy willow branches, and peach and plum blossoms, to every sort of inflatable &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kitchy&lt;/span&gt; toy imaginable.  I can understand little boys running around with huge inflatable pigs or inflatable shields and swords.  But grown men unselfconsciously carrying large inflatable &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lollipops&lt;/span&gt; with pigs heads on top?  And lets not forget the inflatable cigarettes, pigs on a stick, hammers, and silly hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Victoria Park to catch the action at its source, and it was a site to behold.  It was difficult to move down the aisles because there were so many people, but everyone was in a fine mood.  I spent a long time taking photos of all the beautiful flowers; they really were a sight to behold.  There were large cooking stations at either end of the park, but alas everything in the pot looked a bit too scary.  So I splurged and went out for sushi instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a singleton, I thought I would get placed at the bar, but they stuck me with another table of two instead, a man and woman who were clearly on a date.  We didn't really talk to each other during the course of the meal, except that the woman helpfully informed me that I had just poured vinegar, not soy sauce, into my dish!!  My eyes were way bigger than my mouth, and I just couldn't finish the last two items.  But everything was excellent, and the bill still came to about $15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed in bed for a while this morning, partially because I had been coughing a lot the night before, which couldn't have made my roommates happy.  I think it was also because the prospect of taking 7 pills, my inhaler, and prescription cough medicine was just a little more than I wanted to deal with.  I decided to explore the Western Market, which unfortunately was closed when I got there, it being both Sunday and the Chinese New Year.  My focus then shifted to Hollywood street, which is known for its antiques.  It's also the site of Man Mo temple, one of the original Buddhist temples in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong.  People were still pulling up by the carload to light incense and pay their respects at 5 pm.  From there is a large set of steps leading up to the mid-levels.  My lungs weren't quite up for the whole thing, but I made it as far as several street cats, who I tried unsuccessfully to coax over.  At this very moment the "lady of the cats" showed up with food and water for all 6 of them.  Apparently she is part of a neuter and release program in the area, and she feeds about 50 of these cats every day.  Now that is dedication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am torn between the need to make sure that I have completely recovered from the flu and my desire to leave this place forever.  Perhaps its foolish to think that everything will magically be better in Vietnam, but I can't help wishing so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-966536907709044632?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/966536907709044632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=966536907709044632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/966536907709044632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/966536907709044632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/new-years-day.html' title='New Year&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1122792582904065091</id><published>2007-02-16T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T23:48:45.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the fire...</title><content type='html'>By 11 pm on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; evening, it was clear that my best attempts at self-medication were not going to be sufficient.  I had spent the rest of the afternoon (after my return from the useless doctor's appointment) curled up shivering in my bed.  I was too cold to do anything else, but I couldn't breathe well enough to fall asleep, which is what I desperately wanted.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I swallowed, it felt like knives in the back of my throat.  I finally called the US consulate, told them about my experience that afternoon, and asked them to recommend a hospital.  They recommended &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong Adventist Hospital, and I packed myself up and took a taxi there, arriving around midnight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They could not have been nicer; it was like a whole different experience.  Of course, they are a private hospital, so it behoves them to have good customer service.  Anyway, I arrived with quite a high fever, and the on call doctor and nurse couldn't believe that the previous doctor hadn't given me anything.  They did an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;endotracheal&lt;/span&gt; wash (so not fun), sent it to the lab, and determined that I was positive for the Influenza B virus.  That meant that I had to be admitted in isolation, and everyone who came into my room had to use barrier protection.  I thought this was a little ridiculous, but there you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got to lie down in my hospital bed.  I had two nurses sticking needles into my arms at the same time (one for blood, the other for my IV catheter), but I didn't care I was so happy to be lying down.  They started me on IV antibiotics, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;NSAIDS&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tamiflu&lt;/span&gt;, pain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;, decongestants, and a sleeping aid.  I felt much better even by the next morning, and spent most of my time sleeping, just because I could.  Of course, that wasn't easy with someone coming in about every 15 minutes to do one thing or another, whether give me a medication, take my temperature and blood pressure (which was never abnormal to begin with), change the IV bag, record my ins and outs, change the bed, change the water, empty the trash, etc...  Everyone was super nice, just there a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was discharged after 36 hours in the hospital and I feel like a new person.  I still have a sore throat and productive cough and am somewhat lethargic, but I can deal with that.  I will finish my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tamiflu&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;antibiotics&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;augmentin&lt;/span&gt;, ironically the antibiotic of choice for cat bites), and also have a cough suppressant and pain medication.  I have been in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong for 8 days now, but have only been a healthy, functioning person for 3 1/2 of them.  Such a bummer.  But at least I contrived to get the flu in a country with great medical care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; new year today and tomorrow.  Hopefully I can get out and enjoy it :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1122792582904065091?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1122792582904065091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1122792582904065091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1122792582904065091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1122792582904065091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/into-fire.html' title='Into the fire...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1992111854226982496</id><published>2007-02-16T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T23:29:21.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bedside manner?  What bedside manner?</title><content type='html'>Thursday afternoon I still wasn't feeling all that well.  Although my fever seemed to have abated for the moment, I still had a horrible headache, cough, sore throat, and my head hurt like crazy.  Since I was supposed to fly to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vietnam&lt;/span&gt; the next day, I thought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;It&lt;/span&gt; prudent to get myself checked out in a country with significantly better medical care.  I went to the outpatient clinic at St. Paul's hospital, just a few blocks from my hostel.  Everything was very efficient with the nurses recording &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;everyones&lt;/span&gt;' information and assigning them to a specific exam room where they would see that doctor.  Anyone with respiratory signs, such as I had, had to wear a surgical mask.  I figured I would have to wait to see the doctor.  It turned out I had to wait 2 hours, which is not unreasonable for a walk-in clinic.  My encounter with the doctor, however, was nothing short of ludicrous.  He called me in, asked me what hurt.  I told him and he did a cursory look of my throat with a tongue depressor and briefly listened to my lungs.  I told him I had been coughing up some nasty green phlegm (sorry) and would like antibiotics for a secondary bacterial infection and pain medication for my sinuses.  He said, no, you don't have a fever, it's just a viral infection, please wait at the pharmacy, thank you, and had the nurse usher me out of the room.  The entire encounter could not have taken more than a minute.  He never looked at my nose, my ears, felt my throat, or let me get a word in edgewise.  I might have stayed there and argued with him, but I think I was too stunned that anyone would find this an acceptable interaction with their doctor.  Absolutely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unbelievable&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1992111854226982496?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1992111854226982496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1992111854226982496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1992111854226982496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1992111854226982496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/bedside-manner-what-bedside-manner.html' title='Bedside manner?  What bedside manner?'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-8141858723476721609</id><published>2007-02-14T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T17:16:34.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Under the weather</title><content type='html'>If I've been oddly silent over the last couple days, it's in part because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; spent most of the last 48 hours in bed :(  It's your typical bronchitis/flu type deal, and the worst part is my incredibly sore throat, which makes coughing just agonizing.  Thankfully, again, I am able to buy throat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lozenges&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NSAIDS&lt;/span&gt;/decongestants at the wonderful grocery store across the street.  Yesterday was also hard because my last roommate left and I didn't get another one; it's difficult to be sick half way around the world from home.  But I am feeling much better, if not quite 100%, this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as a result, I haven't gotten to see nearly as much in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hong&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;kong&lt;/span&gt; as i would have liked.  I think the last time I wrote, I was about to visit the night market, which unfortunately was a huge disappointment. All the stalls sold the same items, which basically amounted to cheap &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;chinese&lt;/span&gt; crap.  if you wanted to buy plastic figurines, this was your place.  but i didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday i took the tram over to the ferry terminal in order to catch the high speed ferry to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;macau&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;macau&lt;/span&gt; has a somewhat similar history to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hong&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;kong&lt;/span&gt;, in that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;portugese&lt;/span&gt; maintained control of this peninsula off mainland china for almost 400 years, before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;relinquishing&lt;/span&gt; it in 1999.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Macau&lt;/span&gt; is a land of casinos, generating more revenue than all of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;las&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;vegas&lt;/span&gt;!!  if you're not into gambling, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Macau&lt;/span&gt; is unfortunately not all that interesting.  there are some pretty churches and other remnants of colonial architecture, but otherwise many of the same chain stores from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;hong&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;kong&lt;/span&gt; have bases here as well.  i guess one other unique aspect would be the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;portugese&lt;/span&gt;-inspired cuisine.  unfortunately, i have almost no sense of taste or smell right now, and i think this has turned me off of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;chinese&lt;/span&gt; food for the rest of this trip, if not for life.  sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-8141858723476721609?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/8141858723476721609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=8141858723476721609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8141858723476721609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8141858723476721609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/under-weather.html' title='Under the weather'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-5025856039987730650</id><published>2007-02-11T00:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T01:49:51.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Window Shopping</title><content type='html'>Greetings everyone.  I was a little groggy this morning having spent last night in an Irish pub watching rugby with lots of drunk Englishmen.  Emily and I wound up there with Andy, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;british&lt;/span&gt; guy from our hostel.  The first match pitted England against Italy and the second involved Wales and Scotland... we were sharing a table with a couple of very vocal Welsh guys.  Fun, but very expensive beer.  Apparently there is a 40% tax on imported beer in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hong&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;kong&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I again bought breakfast in the local grocery store, including some gorgeous sliced pineapple.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;And&lt;/span&gt; then I went to Starbucks with all the other Europeans.  I'm a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;, but the coffee was very good.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;redeemed&lt;/span&gt; myself, however, by having lunch at an authentic noodle stand, for less than my cup of  coffee.  Wandering around today, I noticed that the streets are just filled with people.  The local park has been taken over by all the Indonesian maids and housekeepers who get Sunday off.  They had all spread sheets of plastic on the ground and were talking, eating, and doing each others hair.  Quite a remarkable site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did tons of window shopping around my hostel this morning, but was quite disappointed.  the stores consist of electronics, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;chinese&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tchotckes&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;perfume&lt;/span&gt;, make-up, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;american&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;british&lt;/span&gt; chain stores, and high end stores such as Gucci and Ralph Lauren.  My only find of the morning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; a knitting store.  Stop groaning, I was good and didn't buy any wool.  However, I did come away with 2 pairs of Addi turbo needles for around $5 each.  Since they normally retail around $15 in the US, this was a great deal.  I am heading to the night market this evening, which will hopefully be more to my liking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-5025856039987730650?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/5025856039987730650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=5025856039987730650' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5025856039987730650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/5025856039987730650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/window-shopping.html' title='Window Shopping'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-8170171898149165460</id><published>2007-02-10T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T01:20:02.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first day</title><content type='html'>The view from the airplane as we coasted over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hong&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;kong&lt;/span&gt; island and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;kowloon&lt;/span&gt; is simply breathtaking.  Most of the island was a dark hill, except for the settlements on the top of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;victoria&lt;/span&gt; peak.  All the brightly lit sky scrapers gathered together at the foot of the island and separated by water from a similar gathering at the head of Kowloon.  I wish i had gotten my camera out in time :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting from the airport to my hostel was surprisingly easy.  I took airport bus #11 to causeway bay and the hostel was only a block further.  This place is located in the "fashion district" which consists of a group of brightly lit high end stores teeming with people at 9 pm on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt; night.  there is even a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Starbuck's&lt;/span&gt; two doors down from us (horrors) although the coffee is quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;expensive&lt;/span&gt; compared to the espresso drinks.  My post-travel shower definitely ranks up there with some of my best ever.  I did an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; job of sleeping through the night, considering the 13 hour time difference.  Staying up for 30 hours tends to help a great deal with jet lag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two roommates.  One of them is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;british&lt;/span&gt; girl named Emily, very friendly and way younger than me.  I decided to travel with her today to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Lantau&lt;/span&gt;, one of the outlying islands, which houses both the airport and a very famous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;monastery&lt;/span&gt;, including the largest bronze seated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Buddha&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;asia&lt;/span&gt;.  First we got breakfast at the department store across the street, which included mango yogurt and this crazy assortment of sliced fruit, including kiwi, pineapple, watermelon, and this stuff called dragon fruit whose inside resembles a white radish riddled with black poppy seeds.  It's juicy and mild, but nothing to write home about (unlike &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;rambutan&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mangosteins&lt;/span&gt;).  We took one of the very old, very tall and thin wooden trolley cars along the main drag to the ferry terminal.  Consumerism and exported &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;american&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;european&lt;/span&gt; culture are everywhere, including &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;lifesized&lt;/span&gt; Nike posters featuring various NBA stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite an overcast day, which made the ferry ride to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Lantau&lt;/span&gt; somewhat of a disappointment..  What would have been a dramatic passage between scores of rocky islands was mostly obscured by fog.  From the base of the island at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Mui&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Wo&lt;/span&gt;, we took the bus over the island to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;monastery&lt;/span&gt; of Po Lin and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Tian&lt;/span&gt; Tan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;buddha&lt;/span&gt; statue.  The center of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Lantau&lt;/span&gt; is mostly covered with rock and vegetation, save for the windy ribbon cut through for the road.  Po Lin monastery was beautiful, if overly touristy.  I guess the same is true for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;buddha&lt;/span&gt;.  What interested me was the preponderance of Chinese and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Hong&lt;/span&gt; Kong tourists at both venues; it wasn't just us white folks.  The fresh orchids and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;chrysanthemums&lt;/span&gt; at Po Lin were especially striking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there, we entered this unbelievably cheesy tourist village (we are so not the only ones who can do cheese) en route to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Ngong&lt;/span&gt; Ping 360 tram, which brings you all the way to the start of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;MTR&lt;/span&gt; subway system.  The views of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;buddha&lt;/span&gt; were excellent, but again the overcast weather prevented any real island panoramas.  We had lunch at the monastery's vegetarian restaurant, which was authentic and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;therefore&lt;/span&gt; a wee bit scary.  I stuck mostly to the mushrooms with baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;bok&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;choy&lt;/span&gt;, but did also have an excellent spring roll filled with something resembling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;daikon&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the year of the pig (the boar, really) and they are everywhere.  Pink ones, cute ones, fat ones, you name it.  So clearly, I need a pig :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm planning to take the ferry to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Macau&lt;/span&gt;.  It only takes about an hour and I can't resist the opportunity to visit another island equally steeped in history.  Unfortunately, uploading photos isn't working at this very moment, so I'll need to figure things out.  Hope you are all well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-8170171898149165460?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/8170171898149165460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=8170171898149165460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8170171898149165460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/8170171898149165460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-first-day.html' title='My first day'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-3425940800952814810</id><published>2007-02-10T01:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T17:19:45.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from Hong Kong</title><content type='html'>There are going to be Typeo's in this, so i'm just going to apologize once and let it be.  I am writing this from an internet cafe near my hostel, where the air is so thick with the noise of pre-teen boys playing video games that i can scarcely hear myself think.  Unless i bring ear plugs next time, I'm going to have to find a different place to write this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flights to HK were surprisingly uneventful, other than having to get up at 4 am and travel for more than 30 hours before i reached my destination.  Although I was assigned a middle seat, I managed to snag a window seat in the exit row on my flight to LAX by simply waiting until the end to get on the plane and sitting in the empty seat.  A nice way to start off my morning.  I did have to leave and re-enter security at the Tom Bradley international terminal, but that was blessedly uneventful.  AND my bag, which was checked through from united to cathay pacific (not in the same airline alliance) actually made it on my flight.  phenomenal.  To hong kong, I had a window seat with no one in the middle, which I felt was really a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some observations from the flight:  I have given up on ordering the vegetarian meal on future flights.  It is always completely unimaginative, and never ever contains dessert.  Do they think that people who don't eat meat also don't eat cheesecake?  Well in my case, at least, they would be wrong.  A Good Year is a truly wretched movie, bearing absolutely no resemblance to the very mediocre book by Peter Mayle.  I'm surprised he didn't revoke the naming rights after seeing it.  The fastest living indian is an even worse movie.  Anything starring anthony hopkins was at least worth a chance in my book, but not this one.  I gave up after about 1/2 hour of unintelligible jibberish.  And no matter how hard you try, you are going to really, really stink after travelling halfway around the world&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-3425940800952814810?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/3425940800952814810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=3425940800952814810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3425940800952814810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/3425940800952814810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/greetings-from-hong-kong.html' title='Greetings from Hong Kong'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6391022654853881004</id><published>2007-02-06T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T19:48:29.951-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budget travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting'/><title type='text'>One day and counting...</title><content type='html'>Today was my last in Philly: a fun combination of packing, cleaning out the refrigerator, and double checking all my plugs and wires.  A multiple tractor trailer accident on 1-95 made my journey longer than needed, but I did eventually get home to my kitties.  I will miss them SO much (there were no kitties to miss on my first soujourn).   So I'm all packed and ready to go, except for a last minute check to make sure I absolutely need everything in my bag.  I called Cathay Pacific to reserve my vegetarian meals for the 15 hour 30 minute flight from LA to Hong Kong.  I'll leave BWI at 6:30 am on Thursday morning and arrive in Hong Kong at 7 pm on Friday.  Since I'm arriving at night, I decided to reserve my lodging in advance, which was easily accomplished on hostels.com.  Just amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my last projects before leaving was finishing Avery's sweater.  This is the same pattern I made for Rowen, just larger and in more feminine colors, using DB cashmerino DK yarn.  I have promised everyone that I will not take my knitting on the trip!!  Well, at least not until I'm confronted with all that wonderful yarn in NZ :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RclLkJtjKNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ROqaOS91mow/s1600-h/IMG_0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RclLkJtjKNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ROqaOS91mow/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028633543390210258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6391022654853881004?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6391022654853881004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6391022654853881004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6391022654853881004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6391022654853881004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-day-and-counting.html' title='One day and counting...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RclLkJtjKNI/AAAAAAAAACs/ROqaOS91mow/s72-c/IMG_0042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-1777229695528875270</id><published>2007-02-02T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T12:33:57.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scarves and Plane Tickets</title><content type='html'>Having gotten over the obstacle of the vet boards, the next step was buying a plane ticket.  Although I was not able to find a viable round the world fare, I did locate a reasonable open jaw ticket: flight into hong kong and flight out of auckland.  With a quick visit to hostels.com to secure my first three nights' lodging, I'm on my way.  The flight from LA to hong kong is on Cathay Pacific, which should hopefully be a nice experience (as far as 14+ hour flights go).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still had 2 skeins of that fabulous transitions yarn left over and decided to make a matching scarf for my hat.  This involved yet another free pattern off the internet, this one for a diagonal triangle scarf using a new technique: short row shaping.   It was a fun project and the final result is warm and cosy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RcOeyptjKLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/zVPly45uaq8/s1600-h/IMG_0037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RcOeyptjKLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/zVPly45uaq8/s200/IMG_0037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027036202103154866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RcOfeptjKMI/AAAAAAAAACY/jBtqWgmZP7w/s1600-h/IMG_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RcOfeptjKMI/AAAAAAAAACY/jBtqWgmZP7w/s200/IMG_0039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027036958017398978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-1777229695528875270?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/1777229695528875270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=1777229695528875270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1777229695528875270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/1777229695528875270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/02/scarves-and-plane-tickets.html' title='Scarves and Plane Tickets'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RcOeyptjKLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/zVPly45uaq8/s72-c/IMG_0037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-7793790738728031178</id><published>2007-01-26T16:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T17:46:11.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I PASSED!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I feel as though the weight of the world has been lifted from my pathetic shoulders.  My NAVLE letter was finally delivered this afternoon, and it contained good news.  I did not kick this exam's butt the second time around either, but I do not care.  I passed, and that is all that matters.  Time to go buy a plane ticket and get the hell out of dodge :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-7793790738728031178?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7793790738728031178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=7793790738728031178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7793790738728031178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7793790738728031178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-passed.html' title='I PASSED!!!!!'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-2698175810688645514</id><published>2007-01-26T07:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T07:48:42.779-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='accessories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gloves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting'/><title type='text'>Fun with Accessories</title><content type='html'>Well, the crazy knitting lady continues her run.  While working on Avery's sweater, I have found numerous smaller projects to provide "distractions".  The first is a simple ribbed hat in an amazing yarn: Transitions by Noro.  This yarn shifts composition as it transitions from one color to another, from wool to angora to silk to camel.  I plan to make a matching scarf one of these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RboiKfZ0mmI/AAAAAAAAABw/5ZfgqCZXB94/s1600-h/DSCN2200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RboiKfZ0mmI/AAAAAAAAABw/5ZfgqCZXB94/s320/DSCN2200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024365897909049954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next project was inspired by yet another pattern from Knitty: fingerless gloves.  I already had the appropriate yarn and thought it would be a good way to learn how to cable.  Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RboiY_Z0mnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/PP8cOeI37Oc/s1600-h/DSCN2207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RboiY_Z0mnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/PP8cOeI37Oc/s320/DSCN2207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024366147017153138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-2698175810688645514?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/2698175810688645514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=2698175810688645514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2698175810688645514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/2698175810688645514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/01/fun-with-accessories.html' title='Fun with Accessories'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RboiKfZ0mmI/AAAAAAAAABw/5ZfgqCZXB94/s72-c/DSCN2200.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6591897491217870174</id><published>2007-01-16T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T10:33:44.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mohair Mayhem</title><content type='html'>What do you do with 870 meters of varegated purple mohair? Make a shrug, of course. I bought an entire bag of this yarn several years ago and finally found a nice (FREE!!) pattern for it on knitty.com. Of course, I had to buy a 32" size 11 needle and some DB pure silk in grape to go with it. Why am I such an expensive knitter? Anyway, here it is. I thought the shrug would be too small, but the yarn has relaxed with wearing and it now fits nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0XpfZ0mjI/AAAAAAAAABI/7iw6D6G7irQ/s1600-h/DSCN2197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0XpfZ0mjI/AAAAAAAAABI/7iw6D6G7irQ/s320/DSCN2197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020695161159850546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0XXPZ0miI/AAAAAAAAABA/kJeUHPeBYtY/s1600-h/DSCN2196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0XXPZ0miI/AAAAAAAAABA/kJeUHPeBYtY/s320/DSCN2196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020694847627237922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to have an unfortunate fascination with mohair. At the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival, at least 7 years ago, I purchased two skeins of worsted weight mohair in periwinkle and lavender. I finally decided last year to use them for my first attempt at lace work... what was I thinking? That project was so frustrating that it turned me off knitting for months. After finally unravelling that disaster, I decided on a simple shawl on size 15 needles; start with one stitch and increase at the beginnning of each row to form a triangle. Intersperse some DB Alpaca Silk DK for interest. Not my favorite project, but very quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0YUfZ0mlI/AAAAAAAAABY/jkJIcJ2BxSU/s1600-h/DSCN2194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0YUfZ0mlI/AAAAAAAAABY/jkJIcJ2BxSU/s320/DSCN2194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020695899894225490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0YD_Z0mkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eM7G_d83ZRE/s1600-h/DSCN2192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0YD_Z0mkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eM7G_d83ZRE/s320/DSCN2192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020695616426383938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6591897491217870174?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6591897491217870174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6591897491217870174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6591897491217870174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6591897491217870174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-do-you-do-with-870-meters-of.html' title='Mohair Mayhem'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/Ra0XpfZ0mjI/AAAAAAAAABI/7iw6D6G7irQ/s72-c/DSCN2197.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-780612745268969602</id><published>2007-01-06T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T14:17:45.574-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budget travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting'/><title type='text'>Trip Procrastination, Knitting Obsession</title><content type='html'>Happy new year!! I am slowly getting ready for this trip, trying to decide whether a straight ticket to Singapore, or an around the world ticket is the better deal. Since I hope to leave in just a few weeks, I need to get my act in gear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My obsession of late has actually been knitting, inspired by the birth of son Rowen to my friends Emily and Rick on Halloween. My first projects were simple fruit caps, knit in the round on a #7 circular needle. First a strawberry, and then a pumpkin for the Halloween baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAbIoz9B7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jW9wnp6VlrE/s1600-h/DSCN2180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAbIoz9B7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jW9wnp6VlrE/s320/DSCN2180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017039820098963378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed making these so much that I decided to embark on my first sweater, a raglan pullover from Knitting at Knoon. The yarn, DB cashmerino DK in teal, was a joy to work with. Much of the work was done on two cross country flights, first to LA and then to Denver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAda4z9B8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Dm4IAtt5AjQ/s1600-h/DSCN2182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAda4z9B8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Dm4IAtt5AjQ/s320/DSCN2182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017042332654831554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I completed the first sweater, I wanted to try out a different pattern in a different yarn. This one is knit entirely in one piece, in the round, except for the collar which is added on later. It felt strange knitting on size 10 needles with worsted weight yarn, but I eventually became accustomed to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAfw4z9B9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/foB4OEDphOY/s1600-h/DSCN2189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAfw4z9B9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/foB4OEDphOY/s320/DSCN2189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017044909635209170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-780612745268969602?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/780612745268969602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=780612745268969602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/780612745268969602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/780612745268969602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2007/01/trip-procrastination-knitting-obsession.html' title='Trip Procrastination, Knitting Obsession'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB-Zt6Wy6KQ/RaAbIoz9B7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/jW9wnp6VlrE/s72-c/DSCN2180.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-7693446511213708382</id><published>2006-11-26T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T13:22:39.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6738/1025160681987737/1600/846621/Deb%20and%20kitten%20Spirit%20Lake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6738/1025160681987737/320/334465/Deb%20and%20kitten%20Spirit%20Lake.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-7693446511213708382?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/7693446511213708382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=7693446511213708382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7693446511213708382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/7693446511213708382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2006/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398116306843548242.post-6064377744632797543</id><published>2006-11-26T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T13:07:43.353-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>My very own blog...</title><content type='html'>Wow.  I had no idea it would be so easy to share my ramblings with the world :)  I've created this blog in anticipation of the 4 month trip I'll be taking next year to Australia, New Zealand, and SE Asia.  On my last major trip (a 2 month stint in SE Asia during summer 2000), I shared an e-mail journal with an ever-expanding group of friends and acquaintances.  Here's hoping the blog will be more user-friendly (and fun)!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8398116306843548242-6064377744632797543?l=debhirschmann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/feeds/6064377744632797543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8398116306843548242&amp;postID=6064377744632797543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6064377744632797543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8398116306843548242/posts/default/6064377744632797543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debhirschmann.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-very-own-blog.html' title='My very own blog...'/><author><name>Deb Hirschmann</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10451607821034619738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
