O no! It's Philip again - and motorbikle rules

Pho breakfast over with I wait for the tour collection.  Not really too bothered in where we are going but its too hot to aimlessly stroll like I did yesterday and am interested in seeing Chinatown from the coolness of the bus.

I see the bus pull up, this time a large mini bus.  A familiar face hops out and there is my guide. Philip, yes, the same prattling funny Philip from the last tour.  We set off and I anticipate seeing, lots, understanding little but laughing heaps. This time not so lucky in that the other seven passengers consisted of a loud Queensland couple who knew everything, a Malaysian couple who only wanted to visit the museum and then didn't want to leave, delaying us all, two Indian ladies that didn't talk and a lovely Danish couple.  Consequently the trip wasnt the fun of the previous one but thats the luck of the draw.

But after three days of wandering in foot and getting lost the penny drops as we are being driven through the city and around the places I went to yesterday. I was being a real,girl and holding the map the wrong way.  LanLan1 is on a corner opposite the Palace which stretches a few blocks.  Turns out if I turned the map the other way both the hotel and the Palace would still be in the right place and all the things I had wandered far and wide to find would be on my doorstep.  Note to self for next time.

The War Remnants Museum was our first stop.  I had been so went and had a long black instead.  Not to NZ standard bet better than many I have had. Next stop the Tien Hau Pagoda which was stunningly beautiful.  Lit an incense ring for the "dobbos" which they hoist up and hang from the roof.  Supposed to bring good luck, peace and prosperity.

                    

Driving through Chinatown didnt look too dissimilar to other parts of the city but we were told that there were lots of signs written in chinese;  I obviously need new glasses as I couldnt see them.  Still it was fun.  As usual we are followed by swarms of motorbikles as they are referred to.  Mindblowing to watch and even more mindblowing is that it seems to work.  Mind you 31 people die each day on the roads in Vietnam; I guess percentage wise that is not as bad as it sounds.  In the cities the traffic travels so slow that I could not imagine major accidents happening, unless it is a pedestrian taken out and that is iminently possible.

Driving on, we arrive at the Binh Tay markets.  This is where the other markets buy their junk from and was awful.  Stinking hot, smelly, full of junk, tourists, and stall holders from other market places lugging black rubbish sacks full of the wares they have purchased to take back to their market.  I sat on a rock outside and people watched.  Far more entertaining and far cooler, if you can call 32degrees cool. A real oppressive heat, no air movement, sticky and humid.  Quite draining, but par for the course.

We drive back along the river and as usual I am mesmerised by the sitesnstruggling to comprehend how the river shacks, can sit next to the narrow but lovely homes which set next to the elaborate pagodas.

The tour over for me the bus drops the full day tourists at a restaurant and delivers me back to LanLan1.  Showered, packed I enjoyed a spring roll lunch.  I am assured that the lettuce has been washed in purified water so rolling I start - heaven.  I head off for a foot massage which turns out to be a heavenly voyage.  Firstly a rough and firm foot and lower leg massage using the wonderful linament type rub, then a repeat on my arms and hands; while still seated I am asked to lean forwards onto a huge  fluffy pillow while my masseur (yes Male again) pops my bra catch and gives the a sublime back and shoulder massage.  Heaven.   Now off to the airport.  Cambodia - Siem Reap here I come.

Sitting back and enjoying the ride I get my first chance to slowly observe this chaos with the motorbikles.  It isn't actually as mad as it seems.  Checking out the signs which appear all along the main road I can see that the left most lane is for cars, busses and trucks.  The middle lane clearly marked for cars and motorbikles and the right most for motorbikles and bicycles.  The confusion reigns when an intersection approaches and the lanes are adhered to right up to the last minute when the driver has to dart across to make a turn.  Consequently that darting makes other vehicles in the way move out of their zone and into the path of someone else, and so it goes on.  

At intersections you can turn left  freely on a red light, but as the front bikles move round the corner the bikles at the rear move forward, irrespective of whether they are turning or not.  Eventualy the width of the road gets clogged by those going straight ahead so no more can turn left.  There is method in the madness.  I am not saying that I would ever attempt to drive here (and I will tackle most things), but now that I understand a little better how it works it doesnt seem quite so bad.

Sitting in my comfy seat I also see a few bikle firsts;

Many people wear full frontal masks, not only for the smog, but to protect their skin.  The masks come in al colours and designs, some with peaked hats attached, some with a scarf attached.  But today I see one that is attached to a long apron which covers the legs and clothing of the wearer.

High heels I had seen, but now for the first time I see not must the high heels but flowing gown as well,   A corner neatly tucked into the hand on the brake, but the rest billowing out and obstructing the drivers aproaching.

Many children are carried on their parents bikles, sandwiched in between two parents, on someones lap, standing in fornt of the driver, three kids and dad okn a bike.  Thought I had seen it all.  Guess what I hadn't.  Small girl, cant have been more than about 6, standing with hands stretched across the width of the bike steering, while Mom was brushing her own hair.  

Its those moments of madness that I will remember.  Things like that I will remember and make me want to come back. 

I arrive at the airport and am surprised to see such a lovely departure area, after the austerity of the arrivals area.  Great food outlets and shops.  Of course I chose food and have just enjoyed a superb Nasi Goreng, as good as anything I had in Indonesia. A sign beckons, I shall. My last taste of Vietnam, this time round. Stuff the calories.

Did I love it?  Totally.  I expected more western tourists and am not complaining.  I expected English to be spoken more, but don't have aproblem with that at all.  I didn't expect the old and the new, the poverty and the glamour right next door to each other.  I expected the heat and humidity but that didnt make it any more tolerable, but is something I will have to get used to. I definitely did not expect a city where you see trees everywhere, parks, gardens, rooftops, balconies - everywhere - thankfully providing shelter from te heat and the rain and surely adding some oxygen back into the otherwise motorbikle polluted atmosphere.   I knew that the people were going to be lovely and I am not dissappointed.  The resiliance and the will to move on of people that have known such hardship so recently in their history is remarkable.  Once again, and so far, I only met people from the tourist/hospitality industry but would dearly love to return to get to know the real peopel of this sparkling, vibrant, green city.

A bit of this and a bit of that

Sleep for a solid five hours, unheard of for me, usually an hour or two at a time is good going.  The extra  hours relaxation leaves me awake and ready to go at 6:00 am, but too early for my pho.  Eventually 7:00 am and breakfast treats me to the usual. Nice and cool outside still so I set out for a walk.

Crazy, crazy traffic but even crazier contrasts. I walk for hours through the narrow smelly lanes where women sit in the footpath brewing coffee or cooking, to the tree lined streets where international smart coffee shops and restaurants beckon you inside. From the wallow of the street markets with the food hanging in the sun amidst the petrol fumes, flies, cigarette smoke and all and sundry, to the sterility of the newly opened multi story shopping complex not 100 yards away.  Sky scrapers, wide promenades, beautiful buildings.  Its like being in another town.  Even the traffic is more sedate and you don't feel as though you are going to be swallowed alive by the scooters, swarming all around.

Somewhere between the two I find a coffee shop, clean, sterile, cool and serving a variety of coffees and. Cold drinks.  I am told that I can rely on the ice here as being from purified water so take the opportunity to have a cold drink.  Lime mojito without the booze, but oh so divine and oh so cool.

I check out a few of the tourist recommended places and spend ages on street corners people watching before the heat gets too much and I wander back to the hotel for a break.  Showered and relaxed I lie in my bed, writing this blog and devouring a packet of  "'centrefilled mocha coffee candy". Divine and takes me back to Bali where they were part of my daily ritual.  So much for the diet.

My itchy feet get the better of me and instead of having a rest I take off again on foot headed for the river.  Duh!  No map,  oh well. I follow my nose. Bad move. I end up at Saigon Square and find the western tourists.  Squashed into a market space buying up large on cheap junk. They are happy and off the streets.  Eventually I find the river, find the sludge, see the pollution and carry on my way.

No map, lost again.  The heavens open up and I seek solace in a souvenir shop where I chat with the staff and get ideas for tonights dinner.  Rain stopped I walk to the Reunification Palace, highly recommended by a few people.  Wiki tells me;
"Also known as Independence Palace (this is the old name). This is a restored 5 floor time warp to the 60s left largely untouched from the day before Saigon fell to the North (construction started in 1962 and finished in 1966). Formerly South Vietnam's presidential palace, the war ended on April 30, 1975 when tank #843 crashed through the gate. A replica of that tank is now parked on the lawn outside. Be sure to check out the impressively kitschy recreation room, featuring a circular sofa, and the eerie basement, full of vintage 1960s phones, radios, and office equipment, supposedly left exactly as it was found when the North took over. There is also a photo gallery and a propaganda film recounting how the South Vietnamese military and American forces succumbed to Ho Chi Minh's revolutionary forces, upon which point many South Vietnamese supporters fled as refugees, military and police were punished and many sent to labor camps."    

Fascinating and glad I went but it didnt excite me at all, perhaps the oppressive heat and the hundreds of visitors contributing to the "I've had enough" feeling.

My last night in Ho Chi Minh City was spent wandering the markets, enjoying a delicious meal of clams (pea sized tiny things) cooked with onions and served with crispy pancakes, just prior to a massage that was to die for; not quite like our PC NZ versions, but one that covered considerably more flesh than it's closest equivalent at home.  Ready for bed and I am sure a good sleep.  Another spell like last night will keep me going for days.  Cambodia tomorrow after a time filling tour in the morning.

Time for a rest

From the serious to the ridculous

Just to be different I started my day with a Pho.  Light tasty and surprisingly sustaining and I figured I would need it.

Eager to go and see the Cao Dai Temple in Tay Ninh I booked a day long tour.  Always one to avoid the tourists and the tours there are just some things I cannot tackle with the help of someone that knows where they are going.  As well as going to the Great Cao Dai Holy See, a place of pilgrimage for followers of the Cao Dai religion, common in South Vietnam the tour would also take in the Cu Chi Tunnels, where thousands of guerillas sought shelter during the Vietnam War.

Shortly after being collected by a mini bus, complete with driver of unpronounceable name and guide, again, with unpronounceable name shortened to Philip we collect the other eight passengers and head off for a two hour drive north west through the outskirts of the city and through very verdant but otherwise un remarkable countryside.  The things that struck me the most along the drive were firstly the very narrow tall buildings and then the huge wads of cables strung between the lampposts.

On the way we stop at the usual factory shop deal, where you see peopel making a product which you can later buy at ridiculously inflated prices.  This time we watched the process of the inlaying of crushed eggshells, or pieces of mother of pearl, onto wooden tablets which are then glazed and laquered.  Absolutely stunning and precise laborious work undertaken by talented people that get paid peanuts, but then I suppose they have a job.  My usual dilemma; do I buy to support the workers, but then do I really or do I just make a rich person richer. Anyway this trip, no shopping, no room in suitcase and I am definitely not lugging shopping round for three months.  Move on.

After a long drive we arrive in Tay Ninh and go straight to the Temple, the head of the Cao Dai religion. Cao Dai is a relatively modern religion, practiced throughout the world but predominantly in South Vietnam and includes elements of a number of religions but primarily Buddism, Taoism and Confuscism.  We arrive in time for the noon prayers and are ushered to the top floor of the temple, a garish, over decorated, huge ugly building.  The pilgrims slowly file in, outsiders dressed in white and those who are part of the temple in yellow, red or blue. Spectacular to see with beautiful haunting music playing in the background. Sadly we only had a few minutes here before we were whisked away.

Here I should make mention of the fact that our guide was a 25 year old unmarried young man who spoke poor english very quickly and was desperate to find a honey and get married.  Poor Philip frustrated all of us, provided an unintelligible commentary but also,provided the amusement for the day. We all laughed till our sides hurt at his expense.  If it wasn't over his constant reference to the honey he was looking for, it was because we were trying, between us, to piece together the bits of his narrative we understood so we could make sense of it all.  Thank you Philip, it is a long time since I have laughed that much.

From the temple we stop at a wee tourist restaurant for a very uninspiring meal, but for $4 what can you expect.

We drive on and eventually arrive in Ben Dinh for our visit to the tunnels.  We do the circuit of the area with Philip doing his best to explain the intricacies of the tunnels to us.
Wiki tells us that:
"Cu Chi is about 40 km northwest of Ho Chi Minh City in Southern Vietnam. TheC u Chi Tunnels are an elaborate underground community made up of 250 km of tunnels and chambers below the city.

Understand

The tunnels were dug with simple tools and bare hands during the French occupation in the 1940s, and further expanded during the Vietnam War in the 1960s to provide refuge and a defensive advantage over the American soldiers. Despite all the bombings in their town, the Cu Chi people were able to continue their lives beneath the soil, where they slept, ate, planned attacks, healed their sick, and taught their young. Some even wed and gave birth underground, but over 10,000 lost their lives here."

Truly inspiring and again beyond comprehension for this kiwi who has barely come close to any form of conflict.  We all the opportunity to venture into the tunnels (I didn't) and to enter into some of the traps that were set up to capture and/or deter the enemy.

Our sobering experience over we hit the road again.  This time in rush hour traffic just as it was getting dark. The road chaos seemed even worse in the darkness but we eventually arrive back at District 1 and the LanLan1.  

I bid my goodbyes, step out of the van and the heavens opened up.  Bucketing down.  Still I was determined to venture out for a meal so quickly arming myself with rain jacket and jandals I head off down the road to the night markets, right where the day markets were and pretty much the same junk that is available during the day.  Touted as tourist markets I was surprised to see how few tourists there are around in comparison to similar type markets in other countries. Hopefully the tourist hoardes don't start ruining this country like they have many others.

Far from a tourist stall I end up eating at Bon Hue, one of local a chain. It was full of local people, clean, cheap and my meal was divine.  The young waiter showed me how to roll the BBQ pork with the accompaniments into a half sized rice paper wrapper (unsoaked and crunchy). Ever so yum.  By the time I had finished my meal the rain had stopped so I enjoyed a long stroll round the market and made my way to my haven at LanLan1.

A lovely day filled with hilarity, the reality of war, the craziness or religion and again with good food.

HCMC day one

With the changes to my flights I re look at the days I have planned and after the mammoth trip Ive just had and decide that an overnighter on an uncomfortable and hot bus is not something I want to do when I am time limited.  So a quick change of plan necesitates.  Overnight bus canned and flight from HCMC to Siem Reap booked.  I will forgo the day in Phnom Penh and go straight through.   Hotel bookings changed I'm ready to go.

The day started so well.  Good sleep and PHO for breakfast, what a way to start.  Worth the day yesterday to start today the way I wanted.

I set off on foot.  Hot and humid with no map, of course I go round and round in circles, but look at the things I saw that would have otherwise had missed.  Such a beautiful city with lovely parks everywhere.  Lots of open spaces heavily planted with tall trees.

Traffic chaos, scooters everywhere, road rules?  Doesn't appear to be any.  Crossing the road a bit different to other places where the rule is run like hell. Here you step out slowly and walk slow, giving the kamikazes time to manoeuvre round you.  Feels quite safe actually.

I spend a few hours at the War Remnants museum at a loss to even contemplate the atrocities and what the people went through  to save their lives and their country.  As if the war itself wasn't enough they still have the effects of agent orange to cope with.

Horrific descriptions and evidence of torture, replicas of cells that dogs shouldn't be kept in. Heroic stories of human sacrifice and overarching demonstrations of the world opposition ti the US presence

Living in our noddy world its incomprehensible that people fought so hard for their country and their beliefs  prepared to savrifice everything because the option was no better.  With tears streaming down my face I head on my way. I cannot comprehend what it would be like to live through something like that.

I move on also filled with anger with the arrogance of our western tourists here in a foreign country in their short shorts and skimpy tops. Yes it's hot, but keep your shorts and sleeveless tops for the beach where they should be in ANY country.  A bit of respect for the culture of the country you are in would be good. But then these are probably the same people that complain about foreigners with head coverings in their own country.

Obviously many people leave home totally ignorant of where they are going or the circumstances of the places they are going to.  HCMC is one of the most notorious cities for pickpocketing and bag snatching and for once I have taken on board the many warnings from seasoned travellers not to venture out with anything that can be pinched. Jewellery removed and all possessions in my pockets or on my body I head out but see dozens of others with gear over their shoulder for all to pinch.  Hope they make it OK

I walk on, find my way back to the hotel and the adjoining markets.  Here I was at home having spent months searching material shops and I fid myself in an area full of fabric shops and tailor.  Oh so lucky that there is no room in my suitcase because I could see shopping coming home with me.

I arm myself with a few supplies including pastries for dinner.  The cutest pastry shop where you are given a pair of tongs and a tray when you walk in.  You help yourself from any of the many cabinets and take your selection to the counter.  each item is packed in a neat little bag before being put into a larger bag for transporting.  They didn't get transported far, for I dug into the ham and cheese croissant two seconds after I got out of the shop.  French pastries are a good legacy to leave behind. Yum.

Lunch beckons and I head for a wee hole in the wall for grilled pork, which came in a bowl of broth, a bowl of noodles and then bean sprouts and greens on the side (Bun Cha).  Into the small bowl go some noodles, then some broth, greens, sprouts and the pork.  Add a bit of fish sauce and some chilli and heaven comes close.  Coupled by a pork and shrimp, Banh Tom, and I am in raptures.  Big bonus that it comes in at about 8NZD.

Can of coke, complete with takeaway glass of ice and its own plastic bag finishes my meal.  I AM in heaven.  Time for a nap.

Eventually off the ground

They say better late than never. It all seemed to easy, after the cancellation of two flights yesterday today was going to be a piece of cake.  Yay, my flight is called and we go to the gate, lots of us.  We settle in waiting for the boarding call.  And we wait, and we wait.  And then we get the announcement that the co-pilot is stuck in a traffic jam way up the line due to a major car accident.  Long weekend, all stand by pilots are either away or live up the coast and can't get in either.

Many of this mornings passengers are people I recognised from last night so the chit chat starts and most of realise that we are going cut it very close for international connections.  Bother is not the terminology used but you get the drift.  We are told by ground crew that our flights will be held up for us so with that piece of encouragement we sit and wait.

Wasn't long and we were on our way. That's cool, we will have 30 minutes to do the terminal run, go through immigration and get to our flight. And sure enough we made it.  After the rush through the airport we get on board, settle in (to my bank of three seats - better than business) and are told we are going to be delayed because some passenger has decided not to travel.   Well, stranger things have happened.

10:10am and we are on our way.  I watch a movie, Frances Ha, which was a hoot, eat my teriyaki salmon steak, have a sleep stretched out across my seat, and check out all the travel pdf's I downloaded trying to decide how I am going to spend my time in HCMC, once I have had my PHO BO of course.  Very little of my trip has been planned but as I was only going to be in HCMC for a couple of days and had a few things I wanted to do, I had planned that bit.  Well, they say that plans are made to be changed so lets see what tomorrow may bring.

Tears pour down my face as Whale Rider finishes.  What an amazing movie and so glad I was locked in a seat and couldn't do the usual movie watching thing of doing a hundred things while watching.  What an amazingly powerful movie. I can see why my rellies in the states have a rather distorted view of what life in NZ is really like.  They have  seen it and loved it.  I can only presume that they have jumped to the conclusion that the movie portrayed modern NZ city living.

Really really want a chocolate right now.  Airline food is just that.  Meant to be eaten on an airplane.  But every girl needs chocolate after every meal and it just ain't coming.  Gotta have chocolate, just a tad; I don't want to appear greedy.  OK good case for business or fist case, they always have chocolate, in fact even choices of chocolate.

So another update as soon as I have a wifi connection but in the meantime I have Narita airport to look forward to and another wee break before my next flight.  Fingers crossed I get away on time.

OK an update on that.  For an indescribable reason did not like Narita airport and couldn't get out fast enough.  Bumped all the way down to HCMC and fell in love the moment I got out of the terminal. Amazing houses, tall skinny and beautifully decorated, trees everywhere, lovely parks.  Cute wee hotel.  All this of course at 1:am, pitch dark and my eyes hanging out if my head.  Been a long day but 36 hours after I originally left home my adventure is starting.

Cuppa and a few hours kip and Ill be hitting those streets tomorrow.

Going nowhere FAST

Well day one wasn't what it was supposed to be.  Typically planned to within a stupid degree I cleaned the house, washed linen, got it dry before I left, delivered the cat to its new temporary home, delivered the car to its collection point, left notes for everyone, made phone calls, lunched with Mom and I'm all ready to go.

Goodbyes said, my super nephew dropped me at the airport nice and early. Was put on an earlier flight since there was availability and since the wind was coming up it seemed like a good option.  Never travelled overseas on a one way ticket, (and return on another ticket with another carrier) for years so was interesting to see the formalities, checking that I was actually going to leave somewhere at some stage.

Visa checked and I am ready to go.  One quick flight to Auckland where I stay till midnight (means I can sleep the moment I hit that seat), then through to Hong kong for a flight change and on to Ho Chi Minh City.

Except, except, except.  Confounded Wellington wind, which we have been plagued by this year, decided to show its vengeance and reared its ugly hell in a big way.  Flights couldn't get in so flights couldn't leave.  Early flight cancelled but managed to re book on the original flight.  Great Im on my way.

Wrong, flight cancelled.  No incoming aircraft.  Now I realised that I was not going to make that connection.  Despite the Koru status and sweet smile I am told that i have to phone Air nz to re-book.  Judging from the number of people hanging out with phones to their ear that was not going to be an easy task, but luckily I got through quickly (thanks Mr Koru).

You know how sometimes you are such a smart arse that it backfires!  Well, here I am traveling to HCMC supposedly arriving midday.  My inside my head plans have visions of eating pho bo at a particular wee restaurant I have been recommended. That is where my head is.  So I tell the very polite young lady from Air NZ that I MUST be in HCMC Monday morning for an urgent meeting.  Mad, or bad, or maybe good move.

Long and short of it is that the lovely lady searched for options and has facilitated my first Pho in HCMC on the Monday ( breakfast even if I want) and has me on a flight leaving Wellington at 7:00am.  That means 5:30am check in but that ok.

That will take me to Auckland where I swap planes for NARITA.  Never been there, never wanted to go there but now I will be able to say that I have been if only to change planes.  From Narita I go to HCMC arriving at midnight, early enough to need the hotel bed I have booked but too late for the free shuttle.   But I shall have Pho for breakfast on Monday.

And so home I go.  Fresh, clean and crunchy sheets waiting for my return, but I wasn't expecting it to be so quick,  nothing to eat but luckily I stocked up on rubbish at the airport, but the worst was NO ARCHIE.  Seems he was keeping Fi company when she couldn't sleep.  Apparently he was keeping her keyboard warm and head-butting her for attention.  Glad he feels at home.

Monday morning, after a drug induced comatic sleep and I'm back at the airport, too early for even the lounge and wifi so what does one do - hot chai, bacon buttie and blog updates.

Hopefully I am leaving soon. The plane awaits so no reason to delay she says.
TBC from Auckland or Narita or maybe the PHO shop.

Vacation Visas and Vaccinations

As  usual, I start my blog before I have left.  This time I am still in the initial planning stages but so looking forward to travelling to SE Asia and celebrating Bianca and Michael's wedding in early January in Luang Prabang, Laos.   I was hoping to rent my home out to some wonderful people that would look after it with TLC, but despite the fact that I have virtually packed it all up no wonder person has materialised to assume the role of caretaker .  Archie is going to stay with cousins and so is in training mode for that. I have my BnB virtually booked up until the week before I leave so it will be a quick pack and storing of the rest of my worldly goods before the flight out.  

In the meantime, I have embarked on a sewing marathon, determined to not be stuck in my beige travel gear for the whole time but trying to design a wardrobe that will fulfil the needs of the weather and still be of the right colours to detract the flying insects that I do not want to be attacked by.  Final vaccinations next week before I start my courses of vitamins and antibiotics, again, to prevent bites from the little blighters.  Of course, the wedding outfit is on the sewing list and as I haven't sewn for many years am practising hard before I get to that important item.

Hoping to keep  my plans fluid  I am trying to not commit to too much but just play it by ear.  So far I arrive into Ho Chi Minh City where I spend a few days and then have a few days to work my way up part of the Mekong, through Siem Reap to Bangkok where I meet Bianca for a few days RandR.

From there I move on to Nong Khai on the Laos,Thailand border where I will be based for two weeks  teaching English to novice monks in the Goseiykett Temple School in the village of Ban Pako on the banks of the Mekong, Thailand side.

Teaching finished I head for Luang Prabang doing wedding stuff and then get the opportunity to wander and maybe hang out at the training school or go and help at Sunshine School in Vientiane.  

Christmas will see a return to Vietnam, this time to Hanoi where we will celebrate Christmas with Michael's family, after which I will do some touring around Hanoi before heading back to Vientiane for a certain person's birthday and the hens and the bucks nights.  From there we head to Luang Prabang for the wedding.  And that is the thing I am most looking forward to.

Wedding over! Off to South Thailand where I am teaching English to young children on a Moslem island.  About as close to my Moslem fascination that I will get this trip.

From there I board another big bird in the sky headed for home.