Travel bucket list

[Mr. Heartbreak]

I spent two summers in Thailand when I was much younger -- about 25 years ago! It changed my life -- at 20 I had no concept that much of the rest of the world lives in relative poverty (compared to Americans) and yet the Thai people are among the happiest. If you can get there, it is amazing (frequent political unrest notwithstanding). I will never forget seeing a mass of shorn-headed Buddhist monks in saffron robes, serenely walking in the rain, all holding black umbrellas. The temple ruins, floating market, resort islands, and hill country are all must-sees.

My wife is from Thailand, and I've been over there a few times. It's quite a bit more modern these days (iPhones and iPads, an excellent elevated rail system in Bangkok, etc), but I know what you mean. Will be retiring there eventually, and look forward to the mellow vibe and happy people. We'll be fairly far north, so Laos is now on my bucket list. I think it would be quite an interesting place to see.

[smells like flowers]

Reykjavik is a good homebase, lots to do and see around the southern portion of the country. There's a few good day trips you can do relatively nearby:

 

Blue Lagoon (Pretty much a must visit. This is quite close to the Keflavík airport. We went to these hot springs shorly after arriving. Perfect way to relax after a long flight.)

Gullfoss & Geysir Hot Springs (Iceland's Niagara Falls & Old Faithful. They're fairly close together, definitely a must see.)

Skogafoss / Reynisfjara (Another worthy sidetrip to see more of Iceland's natural beauty.)

 

And of course Reykjavik has enough stuff to do and see that you can stay busy for days. Lots of great stores, restaurants, a cool looking church that you can't miss. It was great spending a few days there just soaking it all in. Reykjavik is big enough that you feel like you're in a typical European city with all the amenities that go along with that (they even have a 24-7 superstore that has a bit of everything.) it's pretty much the only city there that feels that way.

 

Please feel free to PM me if you have any questions or need more suggestions.

Thanks for the info. We decided to rent a car and explore around for a few days. I keep reading that it's a mistake to stay in Reykjavik for more than 1-2 days because of the abundant natural beauty outside the capital. And I'm way more of a country mouse than a city mouse!

[DonDon]

Recently I drove from TN to Solid Sound and people thought I was crazy. I would enjoy a visit to a distant country for the culture. I enjoy my work because we have people from all over that bring their culture to me and staff. Haitian food is absolutely amusing and two of my coworkers bring me exotic fruits and vegetables for everyone to SHARE. they do not like sugar. I would enjoy Australia, the land where Matrix was born. I have yet to leave North America, but south America seems cool. Personally no matter how many times I go to Savannah, GA. that place will always be and stay on my bucket list. Salty beaches where fresh and salt water meet. flora and fauna all over the shores instead of hot white sand. seafood caught and killed moments before consumption... yea  

[Yaz Rock]

Out of curiosity, what town in Slovakia? I'm not far away and have been through several times...

 

Osturńa is the name we've seen on old family documents. Near the Polish border.

[Yaz Rock]

Recently I drove from TN to Solid Sound and people thought I was crazy.

 

Heh, I've actually driven to/from Tennessee two summers in a row now (from NY). This year I actually got a far as Little Rock. The rest of the world is great, but I love being able to just get in a car and be "Where do I want to go today?" and six hours later be there. Pretty much how my last couple road trips have been.There's lots of cool stuff to see in this country.

[Shug]

Here's a true travel story from a trip that was on my travel bucket list.  Its long, but I thought folks on this thread might find it interesting enough to read.

   I’ve long dreamed of surfing perfect waves in tropical locales since I was a kid growing up in Southern California riding waves at North San Diego County beaches.  I remember looking at photos in magazines of intense waves in Hawaii, knowing they would always be out of my range, even though they could look so perfect and easy in a still photo.  I also remember when photos of Indonesian waves in the Mentawai Islands off mainland Sumatra first appeared in American surfing magazines in the early 90s.  They also looked perfect, and based on articles in the magazines, they seemed, at modest sizes, to be playful enough that I might actually be able to ride them, even though they still broke over sharp coral reefs, a far cry from the soft sand beach breaks of my home.  It planted a seed in my mind, that someday I might have the means to make a trip halfway around the world to ride perfect waves in warm water in an idyllic tropical setting.

At that time, they only feasible way of getting access to those waves was by charter boats, which would hire out to a group of surfers for a given time period to cruise the islands looking for surf. and on which the surfers sleep, rarely setting foot on land for entire trips.  And first you had to take long flights with many layovers from the US, just to get to the spot where you would begin the boat journey.  Traveling overland was not practical.  Staying on land meant camping in the jungle or staying with villagers something few surfers but the most intrepid were willing to do..  These waves were discovered by Australian surfers in the 1970s and 1980s who endured such rugged and difficult travel to get there and stay there.  The Mentawai Islands are about 100 km off the western coast of Sumatra, remote and not easy to get to, and there are only villages in the islands still to this day.  There are mosquitos carrying malaria and Japanese encephalitis there, there are poisonous sea snakes and fish and monitor lizards and crocodiles in the mangrove swamps and estuaries, as well.  Roughing it in jungle huts for weeks on end, days from medical care or supplies of any kind, was truly off-the-grid adventure travel.  The Mentawais are still remote, even though they have for years seen a steady, almost year-round flow of Western surfers.  Now, in addition to the proliferation of charter boats bringing surfers from all over the world, there are also land-based surf camps and even relatively luxurious and comfortable resorts that surfers can bring their non-surfing family members to.  There are large slow ferry boats that travel the 12 hours from the mainland to the islands twice weekly, bringing mostly locals and supplies, but which also bring visiting surfers.

Travel to the Mentawais is a lot easier and more comfortable than it once was, but it is still a remote outpost on the edge of the wild Indian Ocean, far from the nearest 3rd World city of Padang.  It still takes days to get there from the United States.  I flew to Los Angeles where I took long flights to Hong Kong and then Kuala Lumpur with their very modern airports.  From there I took Air Asia to the small provincial port city of Padang on the western coast of Sumatra.  With layovers included, it took me about 30 hours to reach Padang arriving in the morning two days later on the calendar after I had left, due to time zone changes.  Padang is a small, crumbling, dirty 3rd World city with few charms.  There are open stinking drainage ditches and broken sidewalks on nearly every street. There are swarms of chaotic motorcycle and small truck and van traffic choking the streets  Its not uncommon to see children driving motorcycles with two or three other passengers riding along, zipping in and out of traffic (they drive on the left), giving a courtesy warning honk of their horns every time they pass another vehicle which is about every 2 or 3 seconds at rush hour. The main reason Westerners would be interested in going there is because it is where the ferry to the islands departs from.  I relaxed for the day in a relatively comfortable hotel while waiting for the overnight ferry to leave in the evening.  A representative from the surfing resort picked me up from the airport and took me to the hotel, stopping for a meal of ramen soup with fried egg and hot sweet Indonesian black tea with condensed milk and to change some money.  Relaxing at the hotel, I was able to shower and swim in the pool and drink a cold beer.  Beer is not that easy to find in Padang, they don’t have bars or liquor stores (or even grocery stores or pharmacies that I could tell) because, like most of Indonesia, Padang is almost exclusively Muslim.  Groceries are bought at open air markets and packaged foods are rare.  I met with another person staying at the resort who was to travel with me on the overnight ferry.  Roger from the Gold Coast of Northeast Australia introduced himself as the resort’s surf guide for the next few weeks.  He owned shares in the resort and was for these two reasons staying at the resort for a reduced price.  It soon became clear he intended to do as little “guiding” as possible and as much drinking and surfing and avoiding responsibility as he could instead.  The resort representative drove us to the ferry boat, gave us a takeout meal of rice, fried egg, fried chicken, vegetables and chile sauce and we were on our way.  The resort arranges private cabins on the ferry boat for visiting guests.  Local Indonesian passengers sit in chairs all night or they rent one of just a few bunk beds or they simply stake out some floor space and lay mats down to try and sleep under the bright fluorescent lights that are left on all night long.  There was also the over-amplified and distorted call to prayer at both sundown and just before sun up sung by the resident Muslim priest on board or perhaps it was a recording, but at ear splitting volume, it never fails to wake everyone up either way.  The private cabins that resort guests stay in are actually the quarters of the crew members, who for a price that is likely several times their daily pay are willing to vacate their  cabins to let the tourists stay in, by special arrangement with the resort.  So you might sleep on (thankfully freshly washed) Winnie the Pooh sheets in a room riddled with the graffiti and surf company stickers of the rowdy surfers who had stayed in the cabins over the years along with the personal belongings of the Indonesian crew members who gave up their cabin for the night.  The entire boat is filled with cigarette smoke and the toilets are the basin-in-the-floor stand and squat variety common in Islamic countries.  But you can still pass a fairly comfortable night in the cabin, much better than being on the main passenger deck, that is for sure.

We arrived in the village of Sikakap in the morning in a light rain and were met by the resorts’s longboat and Indonesian driver.  The boat was loaded with our luggage and a month’s worth of food supplies for the resort.  Typically, the boat would arrive at the resort in about an hour plenty of time to have breakfast at 8:00 or 9:00 AM. We motored in the calm channel between two islands until we reached the open Indian Ocean where the stormy weather and wind swell intensified.  The ride was at first merely bumpy, but as we got further into the open ocean on the western side of the island, the swell and wind and rain got much worse.  The boat was slamming down hard as it went over each swell, with the load of supplies bouncing and shifting while water splashed over the bow and into the boat.  When there was nearly a foot of water in the back of the boat, the driver, who spoke very little English, asked for help from surf guide Roger with the bung hole in the back of the boat.  When the boat is at speed, the bung hole is opened.  When the boat slows, the bung needs to be closed.  The boat driver was asking for the bung to be opened (it was underwater) when he really meant to have it closed.  This language barrier did not instill my confidence in the driver’s abilities to keep us safe.  Still, he was able to turn the boat around and managed to tuck into a protected bay to wait out the storm and to bail out the water.  Apparently the two way radio on the boat was out of the range of either the resort or the village of Sikakap.  The driver had a cell phone but it   either lacked the battery charge or lacked the pre-paid minutes to be able to be used to contact someone.  He borrowed Roger’s phone and spoke to someone at the resort, but not the managers, just one of the girls who works at the bar.  After that, the phone was turned off, so we did not receive the return call from the resort manager when he finally got the message that we had called.

After an hour of waiting in the calm bay, boat driver started up the engines and headed out to see without discussion with us. Roger seemed perfectly OK with letting the driver make these decisions.  Roger is a professional sailor living on boats 6 months out of the year.  He has also made this boat trip to the resort a half a dozen times. He did not seem concerned with anything in the situation.  This time the weather was just as bad as before.  After a large wave washed even more water into the boat,  the driver tried to turn around again, but there was so much water in the boat that the plastic gas tanks the engines ran on floated up and out of the boat and we were dead in the water as the boat began to sink and a huge pool of gasoline surrounded the sinking boat in the 6 foot swells.  The driver began to panic, crying, saying over and over in English “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, no one come here, no one come here”  Roger tried to calm him to no avail.  I put on a lifejacket, grabbed my passport, some shoes and water, got my bodyboard and fins on and went in to the water.  It was a truly terrifying and shocking moment in which I realized the worst was actually happening, the boat was sinking, I would have to swim to shore about 1/4 mile away and to do so, I had to pass through overhead waves breaking in front of exposed reef to get back to the protected bay where I could paddle to shore.  The driver got on another bodyboard that was in the boat (Indonesians are typically poor swimmers, even ones who spend a lot of time in boats) but was still panicking.  Roger was trying to rescue as much of our gasoline-soaked luggage as possible, tying it together to a bouy.  Other than this, he did not take a leadership role and I felt left to myself to make decisions.  It is surprising how when in a life-threatening situation one can calmly do what is required even when feeling terror at the same time.  I tried to gather up my backpack that was floating away, along with all the flotsam and jetsam of the food supplies (raw chickens, cigarette boxes, crackers, water bottles and juice boxes, etc).  I stuffed my tennis shoes into the life vest.  I was wearing a hat and sunglasses.  I had the Go Pro camera in its waterproof housing in a zippered pocket of my windbreaker.  An iPad, iTouch, cellphone and wallet with cash, credit cards, ID and insurance cards were in the backpack.  I took in a mouthful of gasoline as I bobbed in the swell trying to see what I could salvage before I attempted to get to shore.  I looked at the back of the waves crashing on the reef to find the spot where they were the smallest and paddled for that spot.  I soon was out of sight of Roger and the driver as they didn’t seem to have any plan nor were they communicative of whether we should stick together or not.  I decided I had to save myself, which was a strange and uncomfortable decision to have to make.  As I approached the breaking waves, I miscalculated my position, I was already close enough to the exposed reef to be in the impact zone.  A wave well overhead broke on top of me and held me down, thrashing me like a rag doll.  Instantly, my tennis shoes, my hat, my sunglasses, the backpack and the water bottles were stripped away. The wave twisted my right knee badly, but it did not slam me into the reef, thankfully. I surfaced and found the exposed reef just a few yards away.  I paddled hard to reach it before the next wave could slam into me again.  My knees were scraped on the reef as I paddled/crawled over it to try to get to calm waters.  My knee was in a lot of pain.  Once I got into the calm waters, I knew I would not drown and I shook with relief, thinking “I’m going to live, I’m not going to die.”

It took awhile to get to the beach.  Once there I could see the boat had been washed up onto the reef, partially submerged.  The driver and Roger were by that time walking on the reef toward the beach about 1/4 mile away.  I got the attention of two local village boys who were fishing to help us.  Roger had managed to salvage one piece of luggage for each of us, although they were soaked with gasoline.  I just had some clothes and whatever in my first aid and toiletry kit that was not soaked in gasoline and ocean water.  I had my board and fins, one pair of flip flops, some insect repellant and sunscreen but no food or water.  We had not eaten since dinner the night before and it was now about 11:00 AM.  I could barely walk from the knee pain.  Roger and I discussed our options: wait until someone from the resort came looking for us which might be overnight, since we were miles away from the resort or Sikakap or any other village.  We could walk to the resort, which the driver said would take about 4 or 5 hours.  We decided to walk, knowing at least that we would be making progress rather than waiting without knowing when or if someone would be looking for us.

We walked along the beach, at times having to turn into the dense jungle or climb over fallen palm trees from the tsunami of 2010, or walk in the ocean or through a quicksand swampy estuary.  There are many inlets and bays along this coast, making the journey that much longer.  At one point, I nearly lost a flip flop in the quicksand and I desperately searched for it under the murky water, knowing that I would be helpless to walk any farther without it.  The village boys had some one-man dugout canoes, not big enough for us to ride in, but they used them to help carry our luggage.  At another spot further up the coast they had stashed bigger dugout canoes and we were able to paddle up the river for a mile or so, which was a welcome relief, although short-lived when our course took us away from the river and back to the beach.  Paddling up a river in a remote tropical Asian jungle was so surreal, I felt like I was in Apocalypse Now or The Mosquito Coast. You know these events are real and are actually happening, but it is still hard to believe.  I experienced a strange detachment from the situation, which I believe is a survival function that the mind uses to allow us to do what needs to be done in a very difficult situation.  I developed blisters on my wet and  sandy feet from the flip flops trudging for hours over the rough terrain.  We were hungry and tired, of course, but in these situations, you are pushed beyond what you think your limits are and you do what you have to do because there is no other option.  I surprised myself at my own resilience and toughness, physically and emotionally, during this ordeal.

It took us four hours of hiking to reach the large bay on which the resort sits.  As a thank you, I gave T-shirts, gasoline soaked though they were, to the boys who helped us carry our luggage but later learned they had already helped themselves to my clothing, taking some of my favorite shirts and necklaces already.  They were also given money before this was discovered.  We still had to attract the attention of someone at the resort far on the other side of the bay which would have been at least a 30 minute paddle on a bodyboard.  I considered this.  Another option was to go out into the waves to climb the observation tower at the break.  I was extremely exhausted and with my knee excruciating, I was reluctant to get into any ocean with any swell, especially with shallow reef underneath.  We had no signal flares because there were none in the boat that sank.  We waved the orange bodyboard and were miraculously able to attract the attention of a dinghy at the resort, presumably one that was beginning to come searching for us, 7 or 8 hours after we should have arrived.  We arrived at the resort, were given hot drinks and food and warm clothes. I called my wife, waking her up in the middle of the night to let her know I was safe. With the danger finally over, all the pent-up emotional was free to come out and I wept.  I went to bed, slept through dinner and did not awake until the next morning.

Standing on the balcony of my room, I was stunned to look out and see the most amazing idyllic tropical paradise, as perfect as any I could make up in my imagination.  I surfed the perfect, playful, easy barreling left handed wave for four days in a 3-4 ft. swell, plenty big for me and then for 6 more days at smaller size.  It was perfectly shaped every time.  The ocean water was constantly about 80 degrees, as was the air, a strange sensation to have them exactly the same.  Smooth glassy  waves on windless mornings or backlit sunset sessions, it was over a week of riding waves better than any I’d ever ridden in my entire life.  Looking at the photos of some of the waves I rode still amazes me that I was on waves that good.  Waves like these are what I went halfway around the world for and unknowingly went through so much difficulty and put my family and loved ones through so much worry for.  It was a once in a lifetime trip, a long-held dream fulfilled, a bigger challenge than I expected.  The experience not only provided me with the  connection to nature, contentious and threateningly dangerous at times, harmonious and exhilarating at others, that being in the ocean and riding waves always brings, but it also unexpectedly deepened my appreciation for the things that are the most precious in life, the love of my partner and my boys and my family and life itself.  I’m thankful that I had the opportunity to have this experience, I’m extremely grateful to the understanding and support that my family extended to me during the trip.  With a trip like this with such emotional extremes, its confusing and difficult to reconcile the good parts with the bad, the regrets with the gratitude and to figure out how to feel about it and whether it was worth it or not and if I would ever do something like this again.  Those things may take awhile.  One thing that is clear is that the trip was rich in experience and its one that I will never forget.

 

 

 

[ih8music]

Osturńa is the name we've seen on old family documents. Near the Polish border.

We took my mom and aunt to Poland last summer to visit the original homestead and meet our cousins who still live there. It was an awesome experience - something I'll never forget.

[Yaz Rock]

We took my mom and aunt to Poland last summer to visit the original homestead and meet our cousins who still live there. It was an awesome experience - something I'll never forget.

Nice! That sounds really awesome.

[Winston Legthigh]

Wow Shug. Amazing story.

[Yaz Rock]

Wow Shug. Amazing story.

 

yeah that was epic. I didn't expect the part about staying four days and surfing anyway, I would have bagged whatever there was to bag and said "F- it." Good for you to stick it out and get something good out of the trip.

 

 

[Ghost of Electricity]

Osturńa is the name we've seen on old family documents. Near the Polish border.

Google maps tells me that's in the Tatra mountains, which are great.

[Boss_Tweedy]

I'm a baseball nut. About 10 years ago I decided to take in a game at every MLB stadium. I knew it would be a goal which would take years to accomplish. This summer I passed the halfway point, hitting numbers 15 and 16 while in Oakland and San Francisco. There are a lot of other places in the world I want to see, but baseball was one of the first loves in my life. I discovered the game when I was seven, played it as long as a team would have me (not very long), and have followed it avidly for over 30 years. 

[The Inside of Outside]

I'm a baseball nut. About 10 years ago I decided to take in a game at every MLB stadium. I knew it would be a goal which would take years to accomplish. This summer I passed the halfway point, hitting numbers 15 and 16 while in Oakland and San Francisco. There are a lot of other places in the world I want to see, but baseball was one of the first loves in my life. I discovered the game when I was seven, played it as long as a team would have me (not very long), and have followed it avidly for over 30 years. 

I have toyed with this idea. One of my cousins completed it a few years back. Halfway is an accomplishment!

[remphish1]

I'm a baseball nut. About 10 years ago I decided to take in a game at every MLB stadium. I knew it would be a goal which would take years to accomplish. This summer I passed the halfway point, hitting numbers 15 and 16 while in Oakland and San Francisco. There are a lot of other places in the world I want to see, but baseball was one of the first loves in my life. I discovered the game when I was seven, played it as long as a team would have me (not very long), and have followed it avidly for over 30 years. 

Cool..Im not even a baseball fan and I have tried this too. I think i'm more than halfway? Hmm now i got to list it out...lol

 

Been to home games for the:

Mets

Yankees

Phillies

Red Soxs

Blue Jays

Orioles

Cubs

Indians

Reds

Braves

Brewers

Twins

Rockies

Astros

A's

[The Inside of Outside]

You are halfway there - 15 of 30. That is pretty cool.

 

I have been to 9 ball parks:

 

Braves

Reds

Red Sox

Yankees

Mets

Phillies

Orioles

Rangers

Brewers

 

Interestingly, only 2 (2!) of those parks are still in use - Fenway and Oriole Park at Camden Yards.

 

Shea, Riverfront, the old Yankee Stadium, Veterans, County, Fulton County, Arlington Stadium - all gone. Tells me how many ball games I have been to in the past 15 years or so. Not many.

[Oil Can Boyd]

I realize it's not as exotic as many places mentioned in this thread but I was just in Ireland for 8+ days and it was great.  I definitely want to go back and spend more time in the west. 

[Boss_Tweedy]

I realize it's not as exotic as many places mentioned in this thread but I was just in Ireland for 8+ days and it was great.  I definitely want to go back and spend more time in the west. 

 

Such a great and beautiful country. The people are wonderfully nice, too. I went for a few days while in London for a college semester many moons ago; and I, too would love to go back some day.

[tinnitus photography]

Reykjavik is a good homebase, lots to do and see around the southern portion of the country. There's a few good day trips you can do relatively nearby:

 

Blue Lagoon (Pretty much a must visit. This is quite close to the Keflavík airport. We went to these hot springs shorly after arriving. Perfect way to relax after a long flight.)

Gullfoss & Geysir Hot Springs (Iceland's Niagara Falls & Old Faithful. They're fairly close together, definitely a must see.)

Skogafoss / Reynisfjara (Another worthy sidetrip to see more of Iceland's natural beauty.)

 

And of course Reykjavik has enough stuff to do and see that you can stay busy for days. Lots of great stores, restaurants, a cool looking church that you can't miss. It was great spending a few days there just soaking it all in. Reykjavik is big enough that you feel like you're in a typical European city with all the amenities that go along with that (they even have a 24-7 superstore that has a bit of everything.) it's pretty much the only city there that feels that way.

 

Please feel free to PM me if you have any questions or need more suggestions.

i'm going to the ATP in Keflavik next year and will probably extend it by a day or two on both ends to check out some of Iceland.

[GtrPlyr]

i'm going to the ATP in Keflavik next year and will probably extend it by a day or two on both ends to check out some of Iceland.

 

That should be pretty damn cool. I wish there'd been a good music festival on while I was there.

[tinnitus photography]

a good friend of mine went this year and said it was a blast. 

 

early bird tickets were only 60 Euro, so it seemed like a no-brainer. 

[RaspberryJam]

Not my bucket list; but we just got back from 12 days in Europe with my dad.  Because of a debilitating fear of flying, he has never been, even when I lived in Germany for 4 years.  I guess he decided it was now or never, so it was my husband and myself, our 2 kids (12 and 13 y.o.), and my folks.  We went to Paris, to see friends in Germany, Amsterdam, and toured the battle sites of Normandy.  We rented apartments in Paris and Amsterdam and stayed in a shabby (not chic) chateau in Normandy.  Ate some amazing food, drank some amazing wine, walked a ton every day, saw all the big site because Dad has never seen them.  Despite a lost wallet in Paris and a moving walkway eating a shoelace and causing a tumble at CDG, it was a great trip.