Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

South Beach State Park, quite frankly, is not a park we often visit, due to it’s long walk from the campground to the beach. However, with the usual great state park facilities, extensive walking and biking paths, and an easy 1.5mile walk to Rogue Brewery, located under the expansive bridge leading to the Newport Marina, it is easily the lodging of choice for the Memorial Brew Fest.

With a forecast featuring mostly grey and rain, we were eager to try out all the features on our new camper, having just installed a side awning and gotten the back awning fixed. LED rope lights under the cabinets would provide additional lighting. Friday night, at least, luck was with us and the clouds parted on our way out of Portland and we were thrilled to have a dry drive to the ocean. After a lovely sunset walk on the beach and dinner around the campfire, it was early to bed at the end of a long week.

It rained hard through the night and we anticipated a wet walk to the brew fest but much of the day remained dryish, albeit very overcast. The camper had proven dry and cozy and even a rainy morning walk along the jetty couldn’t dampen our spirits. Last year the Brewers Memorial hosted around 900 dogs and this year seemed smaller but it might have been simply the change of set up at Rogue. With the forecast, almost all of the booths were inside, with a tent placed in the courtyard for seating. What seemed very curious was the lack of a working ATM on site but this fact caused a random meeting that became a perfect “pay it forward” moment.

I had taken $50 cash us to the event, thinking this would get us started on our beer consumption, provide for lunch, and perhaps a hat for Jim. Silly me, assuming that Rogue, hosting an event for thousands of people, would actually be sure their ATM in the brewery was up and running. We enjoyed several beer tastings, had some BBQ, and perused the booths and were sitting at a table speaking to two other couples, when it was my turn to get the next round. On the way I stopped at Rogue Creamery’s booth to buy some of their delightful smoked blue cheese to go with our dinner, and arrived at the ticket table, prepared to surrender my card for more beer tickets. Imagine my surprise to find that not only did they not have a credit card machine but also no square OR a working ATM. Seriously? At a huge beer tasting event, no capability to get more money from patrons?

I headed back to the table with my cheese, reluctant to tell Jim that we had cheese instead of beer tickets, but did offer up my one last dollar for him to go and get a final beer for himself. As he jokingly chastised me for having my priorities screwed up the man whom I’d been speaking to before I went off on my erroneous mission, pulled out his wallet and handed over a $10 bill to Jim. Bill Frosty offered up this beer money, with his only request being that we check out his website, The Red Woodsy, to see his gorgeously carved redwood furniture at his shop in McMinneville. Whether he knows it or not, he became my hero for the day. Not because he gave us another $10 worth of beer which we didn’t really need, having a fully stocked fridge in the camper, but because in his generosity to total strangers, he was the epitome of the type of person performing kind works we aspire to be ourselves. So, Bill, cheers to you for being being a really nice guy!

In addition, I must say, I am just loving the new camper. With no top to be raised and lowered, the ease of set-up is a lovely change, and with solid walls we have been able to make it our own, incorporating photos and mementos from afar:

New side awning and mood lighting

Window vase from Ron & Dario

Tommy Turtle from Mexico

Maddy in memory and photo, knife rack and South African doll

Buddha from Asia

Our Indian influence

Porter checking out the new outdoor rug

Another weekend of lots of physical activity and doggie events did us all in and the four of us climbed into bed together on the rainy Saturday afternoon for a refreshing nap. I felt absolutely content, the whole family cuddled together as the rain pattered on our roof. The dogkids were especially exhausted and stayed in bed even while I made dinner! Not an easy feat w/ our ever enthusiastic Aspen.

Nap time!

Two tired black dogs!

Another excellent weekend at camp, with many more to come. Life is good.

Brewer’s Memorial Brew Fest 2013 is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Prior to the event they spent their time getting lots of rest in preparation for the sensory overload of coming into contact with over 3000 bums to sniff! This is the Humane Society’s biggest charity event each year bringing in thousands of dogs and their humans and raising nearly half a million dollars. Entry includes a pancake breakfast, mimosa or beer, and a bagful of doggie treats along with the opportunity to help the humane society while enjoying a fantastic walk around the downtown waterfront of Portland.

It was another gorgeous day and our dash newbies were a bit overwhelmed by the entire scene. Porter got his head wrapped around it all and settled right in but Aspen was endlessly frustrated by the slow walking pace of having to stroll in a crowd of thousands.

Overall, they did great on their first dash, taking home 2 bags full of treats, dogfood samples, and other goodies.

We purchased a bottle of Lab red, a Portugese wine being sold at the event with some of the proceeds going toward the humane society.

And the kids were worn out and certainly didn’t need an evening walk. All in all another successful Doggie Dash!

Dashing with the Doggies is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

The month we spent there was easily one of the best times of our life. Country number two on our RTW journey, New Zealand was where we truly started to feel the freedom of the open road. Filled with the excitement of finally embarking upon our long dreamed of trip and giddy with the anticipation of all that might bring, we threw ourselves wholeheartedly into this amazing country.

Time was spent covering both North and South Island and loved every minute of it. Flying into Auckland, fresh off 10 days of “vacation” in Fiji, we encountered a gorgeous city, built on hills surrounding the famous harbor and reminiscent of Seattle. Freezing cold after the warmth of Fiji, we didn’t stay long but in our brief time it became apparent it was a city we could one day call home.

Ever ready for a road trip adventure, we were over eager to pick up our camper van and hit the road! Our Apollo camper van was perfectly equipped for our road trip and the campgrounds of New Zealand were perfectly equipped to receive us. These people know how to camp! Most campgrounds, and there are thousands of them, are wonderfully located with fantastic facilities.

The days following our departure from Auckland took on an air of pleasant simplicity. Breakfast at camp, sightseeing or moving on during the day, dinner in the comfortable camp kitchens chatting with other travelers before an evening of reading and an early bed as we worked our way across the North Island.

Rotorua, stinky with sulfur in the air, threw us right into the fascinating Maori culture. The Maoris have inhabited New Zealand for hundreds of years, thought to have arrived from Polynesia around 1280. These fierce tribes, sadly, have experienced much of the same discrimination as the Aborigines of Australia, considered third class citizens. This still continues to some degree today, although the country has embraced the culture, offering travelers many opportunities to learn about these first settlers. The fierce Haka dance was originally a war dance but has since become more famously associated with the All Blacks, the National rugby team. We became so intrigued by the culture that we got matching tattoos of the Maori fishhook, symbolizing strength, long life, and safe travels.

Rugby was not familiar but we certainly got schooled in New Zealand! More religion than sport, Love of the All Blacks, the most dominate team in Rugby history, permeates nearly every aspect of Kiwi life. We immediately got sucked into the national craze and spent many an hour enjoying play-off matches. Walk into any bar in the country on match day and ask the bartender what they think of their chances are for the evening and they’ll pull themselves a pint along with yours, sit down, and tell you what they think of it all. A fantastic way to meet the locals, this became one of our favorite pastimes.

Lake Taupo proved to be an outdoor paradise. Hike, bike, shop, drink or fly-fish in the crystal clears water. It’s 23,000 residents are some of the friendliest we’ve ever encountered, something we would find time and again throughout the country. In spite of Jim’s best efforts, we never did catch one of their elusive trout, but had a fantastic time nonetheless.

After getting our fill of Lake Taupo we headed West to Waitomo for two very unique experiences. Waitomo is known for their extensive caving system and….. GLOW WORMS! For several days we camped at the Top 10 Park and enjoyed the area. Unique to New Zealand, glow worms are tiny, luminescent worms and a variety of tours are offered. We chose the caving tour followed by boat tour on the underground river. The caves themselves are quite extraordinary and extensive but the highlight of the trip was absolutely boarding our boat to check out the glow worms. Lanterns extinguished, we floated in silence, the cave ceiling above lit up like the sky with the brightest sky show imaginable. Marred only slightly by the smell, it was a magical experience. No pictures were allowed in the glow worm portion of the cave so, sadly, no shots here.

As interesting as the glow worm caves were, my favorite day in Waitomo was visiting the Ruakuri cave. Discovered 400-500 years ago and reopened in 2005, you enter the cave at an unobtrusive opening at ground level. As the door closes behind you, the guide turned on the lights and we stood, mouths gaping, as we looked down at the lights and circular walkway going nearly 5 stories below us. Once you arrive at the bottom it begins to feel other worldly. To keep the interior climate controlled you go through a series of doors that slide open and shut behind us like something out of Star Trek. We spent hours examining the stalagmites and stalactites, surrounding us with dazzling natural artwork, amazed that all this glory had been right underneath our feet as we stood on the surface.

We made one final stop before leaving the North Island, well aware that there was so much we had missed but wanting to continue South. Wellington, the capital of New Zealand, sits picturesqly on hills leading down to the harbor and the Cook Strait. It was September, spring in New Zealand, and the city’s numerous parks and squares were bursting with blooms. In spite of the cold, rainy day we still enjoyed a great walking tour and lunch on the pier, never getting sick of the smell of a working harbor.

As our ferry headed towards South Island we cast a friendly last glance towards Wellington, certain that we weren’t done with the North Island and already planning what we’d see upon our return. South Island New Zealand here we come…………….

New Zealand by Campervan is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

From Siem Reap there are two ways to get to Battambang. The first option is to take the mostly comfortable, 5-6 hour bus trip with little chance of travel issues and enhanced (?) by blaring Cambodian karaoke shows. The second option is the more interesting slow boat meandering along the waterways of the countryside. In wet season apparently this option can be nearly as quick as the bus. In dry season, when we were there, estimated trip times ran from 6-10 hours. Ours took eleven.

The morning began with a 6am pickup at our hotel, and then spent the next hour playing that classic Asian game of “how many travelers can we fit in a 6 passenger van?” Barely able to breath, sitting half on Jim’s lap, half on some Australian guys lap, with my knees up under my chin due to the backpacks beneath my feet, I only hoped the boat was more comfortable. As the driver opened the door and we, literally, spilled out of the stuffed van, I noted the large numbers of travelers heading towards a not very large boat.

In spite of our many stops en-route, we were among the first to arrive, allowing us to get seats inside on the hard wooden benches. More and more passengers boarded and with no remaining seats were relegated to the roof top to bake in the sun while reclining on their backpacks while I contemplated how soon someone would rescue us when our overloaded boat started to sink.

As we settled in I sat back to survey the fascinating life on the water surrounding us. As we cruised slowly by, the daily lives of whole villages of ramshackle houses, built on stilts, unfolded around us. Woman washed clothes in rusted tin tubs. Men fished from small boats. Scruffy children and dogs played on docks, all while tv antennas and electrical lines waved overhead.

As time passed I wondered about their lives, so different from mine. Did they want a different life or were they happy with their life above the water? Limited in space, set among the reeds, yet with far reaching vistas over Tonle Sap Lake, they had a very basic existence. Even being on the road long term we carried nearly as much on our packs as these families possessed. And yet, nearly everyone waved and smiled as we passed and they certainly didn’t seem downtrodden, in spite of their challenging life. As with most of our days in Cambodia, these moments put our idea of “necessary” stuff all in perspective.

Leaving Siem Reap, the waterscape opened up, revealing the enormity of the lake and surrounding waterways. Early on in the day there was water as far as the eye could see. This quickly changed as we hit the reeds, sailing down the endless network of waterways snaking through the country. Because of the low water levels, our pathway continued to decrease in size and soon we were unable to even rest an arm on the scarred wood railing of our boat or risk being cut by the thick, sapling-like reeds.

We encountered several boats along the way, heading towards Siem Reap, towards us, with no space to pass and I once again considered my game plan with our imminent sinking. But no, silly me, of COURSE there was room to pass, it simply required the crew and passengers to pull the boats past each other, hand over hand, inch by inch, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood and grumbling engines as we forced the boats past each other.

After a couple of hours we stopped at a stilted store and gas station, taking a moment to stretch our legs before once again boarding our wooden craft and gingerly lowering my already sore bottom onto the still uncomfortable wooden bench. Those formerly carefree souls who had started out enjoying their rooftop perch were now sunburned and parched and I sat silently, not willing to complain in front of anyone who had a worse seat than myself!

Having gone some time with no sign of other boats or stilt villages, I relaxed, thinking perhaps sinking wasn’t the only end to our day when suddenly a horrendous metallic clank was followed by massive amounts of smoke emitting from our motor, wafting forward and causing us all to fall into fits of coughing as the boat came to a stop.

Powerless, we drifted along while the captain and crew checked on repair options, and things started to heat up. When not in motion the stiflingly heat and humidity was taking a toll and the sickly sweet smell of sweat combined with gas fumes and river water was creating a nauseating perfume in the small boat. Luckily, even though it felt like an eternity, around 25 minutes later, it was determined that a huge clump of reeds had gotten wrapped around the rudder. One of the crew dove into the water, requiring several attempts, but successfully cleared away the debris and we were once again en-route.

The final few hours of our trip passed without incident. The narrow, reed clogged passage, opened up into the Sangkae River and we soon started passing villages along the banks with increasing frequency. Dusk was falling as we finally docked in Battambang, tired, hungry, and bum sore. With no reservations we followed the tout with the first appealing offer to a $10/night room near the center of town and treated ourselves to a delicious curry dinner by lantern light along the banks of the river.

It was a long day, yes, but one of my all time favorites. I have often found that the days that are the most uncomfortable at the time prove to be our favorites in retrospect. How many precious days of our lives offer such a fascinating variety of adventure, travel, the unknown, fear of sinking, meeting local people, and experiencing a way of life completely unique from our own. This day was an example of why we travel, to have the opportunity to stop outside our comfort zone, experience new things, and learn to appreciate cultures so different from our own. One that we would have never seen by zipping along the highway at 50mph instead of taking the slow boat to Battambang.

A Slooooooooooooooooooooooow Boat to Battambang is a post from: The Next Big Adventure

Foto Friday is a post from: The Next Big Adventure