The diversity of China is truly incredible when one travels beyond the metropolis of Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong. To learn about China’s 3,000 year old history, see the cultural diversity and think about how far China has advanced in the last 20 years is extraordinary. There is much to see and learn in China... Traveling in China allows experiences such as drinking tea with nomads, taking part in Tibetan dances with the locals, visiting grottoes that survived the Cultural Revolution, visiting the Great Wall - one of the Seven Wonders of the Medieval Minds - and visiting diverse minority groups that still thrive on ancient traditions. The colorful powerhouse is home to nearly 60 minority groups that still thrive in pockets of China, half these groups living in the lush mountainous Yunnan region. In the Yunnan, we were able to observe villagers living the same way their ancestors did, building houses the way their parents did, and constructing crafts passed down from generation to generation. Here we stayed in the quaint villages of Shangri-la and Lijiang and lollygaged around the cobblestone streets at night. Red silk lanterns set the mood for local cuisine of yak momos and "crossing the bridge" noodle soup, both delicious. In the Qinghai province, the area of the Tibetan grasslands, we visited Tibetan nomads living in the grasslands for the summer and discussed their transient lifestyle and animal husbandry. Making stops along the ancient Silk Road allowed us to envision the European traders sharing their goods, skills and spiritual beliefs. Visiting ancient and highly revered Buddhist grottoes and murals that survived the Cultural Revolution, as the only tourist around, created an authentic understanding. Western China is a true cultural experience and a far off the beaten path place.  

Here is a quick sampling of some of my favorite photos from our private trip to Peru. We have so many grand tales about our trip to Peru - from drinking homemade strawberry beer in a tiny, dirt-floored local bar, to being invited to the private ceremony celebrating the first haircut of a 4-month-old Aymaran baby (his mother was our guide), to rafting with a guide who was a member of the Peruvian Olympic kayak team. The topography, the people, the culture, the colors of Peru—from their yarn to their dirt, all together create an irresistible photographic journey.

About the pictures: 1) Machu Picchu, 2) from the drive to Colca Canyon where one really does feel like he is at the top of the world (the moss you see below the girls’ feet takes over a hundred years to grow), and 3) from Uros. The bird is indeed an Andean condor, the largest in the world. It was captured as a baby by one of the boys of the island and is almost full grown. I took four or five pictures of him and the two boats, but in this one he seemed to look straight at the camera. All together, they tell a wonderful tale. I am fascinated by the company that you have created.

I am a retired Advanced Placement English teacher, now pursuing my three passions, travel, writing and photography and hope one day we can travel again with you.

Sally Vihlen

I would rate the overall value of this trip quite high.

Days did not always turn out as we had hoped, but that's part of adventure travel. For instance, one day we traveled 2+ hours up treacherous mountain roads only to have to abort our plans for trekking to El Morado because the road was impassable (due to recent heavy rains). That I might add, however, that not following the planned itinerary many times allowed us to do and see things we would not have experienced otherwise.

All the hotels were very nice, except for one. However, upon learning of the situation, Myths & Mountains immediately took steps to move us to nicer accommodations. The breakfasts in the hotels were quite hearty, especially in comparison to breakfasts in hotels in the U.S, and the lunches that were included afforded us the opportunity to enjoy some of the local cuisine.

We were upgraded to the premium package on the Wine Train. With the sun shining, breezes blowing through the open windows of the dining car, guitars strumming, musicians singing, and food & wine flowing, we literally floated on air by the time we reached our destination in Santa Cruz. This experience was definitely a highlight of our trip!

Louise Girvin

It's late on Monday afternoon and before we head off for an hour massage given to us by blind men for only sixteen bucks - AN HOUR!!! - just wanted to let you know that we arrived here on Saturday afternoon and have been having just a fabulous time.

On our first day, we were picked up in Managua and driven an hour to Granada, an old colonial city that reminds me of Cuzco, Peru. Sans altitude and attitude. We checked into our lovely little hotel and wandered half a block to discover that we were literally just footsteps away from the main plaza, which was hosting a huge literary and music festival. It was hopping. I broke every rule in the book - I talked to strangers, ate freshly peeled mangos sliced and salted in plastic bags, walked around cobblestone streets that were unlit, etc. That night we ate at a pizza place that was fantastic.

Sunday we spent most of the day at the huge handicraft market, shopping for bargains, stopped at a volcanic crater lagoon, and ate tons of local food for about $5 each. That afternoon it rained, so we sat in the courtyard of the hotel and played cards, then had dinner at a vegetarian restaurant.

Today we had an early start and went kayaking in the lake for a few hours around the hundreds of islands that dot the lake. It was windy and quite a workout, but really beautiful. This afternoon, we drove an hour up boulder strewn dirt roads to the top of a volcano to a rainforest, where I shrieked and screamed and cried through seven zipline courses, throwing myself off the top of trees, zooming to another tree while howler monkeys and parakeets buzzed me. So we're all tired and sore and ready for our one hour sixteen dollar massage by some blind men on the street corner spa.

Tomorrow we're off on a two hour drive that leaves at 5 am to catch a one hour ferry to an island in the middle of a volcanic crater. We're there for one night before returning to Managua and flying to the Corn Island for four days of seafood and snorkeling. Everyone's having a great time and WISH YOU WERE HERE.

UPDATE:  Now back from Nicaragua and enjoyed the last few days of relaxing beach time on Corn Island, a little gem of a Caribbean island which receives few American visitors.  Though it has a long way to go until it reaches Costa Rica or Ecuador Rock Star Eco-Tourism status, Nicaragua's rough edges has its advantages - quite inexpensive and few crowds.

Back in 2007, Myths and Mountains had a group of filmmakers approach us to arrange a trek in Nepal and make a short film about the non-profit we founded - READ Global.  They followed me and our READ Nepal tour group all around the Nepal countryside filming the villages and libraries we visited, and getting to know all sorts of local people.  After sending us the final version, we love it!  The film shows just what READ Global is about and how Myths and Mountains is collaborating with READ to get the word out.  It also shows how Myths and Mountains trips take people inside the cultures of the countries we visit.

READ Global began back in 1991 when, after a trek, people started to tip me.  Debating about what to do with the money, I asked our sirdar (the Nepali leader) what he needed most in his village, and he replied, “A library”.  Light bulbs went off for me, and since then, READ Global has built close to 50 fully sustainable library/community centers with the help of Myths and Mountains, its travelers and friends.  To read more about READ Global, click here.

Happy Travels,
Toni Neubauer
Myths and Mountains President & READ Global Founder

Returning to Guayaquil from a week in the Galapagos, we intrepidly rented a car to explore the Ruta Del Sol – Ecuador’s coastline. After my first trip to Ecuador I returned home talking about the ruleless roads of Ecuador and vowed to NEVER drive in this country. Here I was a year later on my honeymoon boldly renting a car. Carpe diem. After checking in at the car rental counter, the kind girl said she didn’t have the mid-sized car we reserved and was going to have to upgrade us to an SUV. Hallelujah I thought. A bigger car equals more safety. After completing the paperwork, we headed out towards the car. The scariest part was about to begin; getting out of city of Guayaquil. The attendant must have felt sorry for us, or maybe he thought we were crazy, because the sweet and helpful man got in his own car and we followed him to the highway. Exiting Guayaquil we felt the fear dissipate and we kicked back and turned on the I Tunes. Driving in Ecuador turned out to be a breeze.

After 45 minutes of enjoying Bob Marley and driving through desert with tumbleweeds blowing across the road, we were at the beach and cruising the Ruta Del Sol (Road of the Sun).  We stopped at a roadside stand for our favorite local dish of humitas, which are similar to corn tamales, and a coca cola. We continued along the Ruta Del Sol, hugging the coastline, crossing over from arid desert to lush jungle, passing through dusty villages, palapa style restaurants and homes, honking at cows and waving at the bicycling children. The long stretches of beach, sandstone cliff line and the rolling waves reminded us of our native Northern California coastline. The views were breathtaking.

After 4 hours of driving, we reached Montanita, the hippy and rave beach getaway full of South American artisans, California surfers, and Ecuadorian weekenders. After checking out a few hotels, we settled on the Swiss Hotel right on the road. We figured that the Swiss people know clean rooms and excellent customer service. We couldn’t go wrong. Next, we hit the beach, went for a swim and searched for some seafood. After a fabulous meal of ceviche with popcorn, fish doused with garlic, and acoustic guitar for dinner music, we walked back to our hotel to turn in. We woke up to rave music at 7:00am and decided it was time to move on.

The next morning, after breakfast with our lovely Swiss hoteliers, we started off to Canoa, a little tranquil surf town we had heard about from some friends back home. Of course we got a late start and stopped in every little town to explore, so we didn’t arrive in Canoa until dark. We met a kind local couple that showed us the last 20 miles or so to Canoa which involved a ferry crossing. After 2 days of driving, we finally arrived to a tranquil and calm sanctuary.

We spent the week staying in a great hotel right on the beach walking the long white sand beach daily. We had time to read books, surf, eat fabulous fresh seafood and bowls of ceviche, and truly relax in all sense of the word. Canoa is a place for people looking for peace and solitude. It was a great retreat from life and obligations. It’s a place that locals go and it’s truly off the beaten path from other foreign tourists.

 

Canoa means “rowboat” in Spanish. After the first morning in this sleepy surf town, we quickly realized it’s also a fishing town. The beaches were lined with the colorful rowboats perched on the crest of the sloped beach. Each morning from our balcony we watched local fisherman depart to sea which was quite an interesting process. Every morning 3 men would carry their 4 stroke motors down to the beach from their homes, on foot, and connect it to their “rowboat”. Once the motor was assembled to the boat, the boat was rolled down the beach to the water on 2 large logs, with the log in front being replaced with the log from the back, over and over and over. The process looked simple, but required an enormous amount of strength. Launching the boat in the morning was the easy part since the beach was on a slope. As you could imagine, when the fisherman returned at the end of the day, the boat had to be rolled back UP the slope on two logs, the front log replaced with the back log, over and over and over. I watched in awe, admiring the simple, efficient and resourceful hoist being employed. Once the boat was launched, the captain then had to battle the surf before getting out to sea.  Watching this every morning for 5 days from my balcony with my coffee in hand made me feel a little lazy. When the fisherman returned in the evenings, we’d survey their catch along with all the restaurateurs knowing exactly where our dinner was coming from that evening.   

At sunset the same group of local children would run down to the beach to play and absorb the magical sunset. The group of cousins and friends had a beached rowboat as their playhouse which housed their pet hermit crab and other imaginary friends.  The innocence and simplicity of the Ecuadorian children was beautiful. All their toys were from nature and their natural playground was stunning. 

 

After a week of making friends with our hoteliers and newfound “family” at our favorite local restaurant, we started up our little SUV and traveled back to Guayaquil. Fortunately there is a much more direct route, though less scenic and exploratory, back to the Guayaquil Airport that we were able to drive all in one day. We gobbled our last humita down at a roadside restaurant before catching our flight back home. It was a honeymoon that we’ll never forget.

Katie and Kevin

In the States, as you get older and are no longer a sexy teenager who attracts all sorts of whistles, you acquire the gift of anonymity, the ability to walk down the street or go into a store or restaurant, and have no one really notice you are there, if you don't want.  Here, in China, anonymity is totally impossible and you are rather like Ling Ling in the Washington Zoo.  Last night at dinner, a little girl spent the entire time on her haunches in front of my table just staring at me.  At the botanical garden, I was rarer than the rarest plant.

Tea - It turns out that Xishuangbanna has one of China's 10 great teas - Puer Tea, that sells for $90/kilo.  There is a clunk of this tea about the size of Charlie Brown's great pumpkin that is 1000 years old and resides in the Beijing Museum.  Here in the area there is a tea tree that is 1700 years old, and people trek through the jungle to pay it homage.  They no longer pick the leaves.  Rather, like a good stud horse, it has been left to thrive in the rainforest. 

They make tea a bit differently here, rolling the leaves into small clumps that open up in hot water.  Every Chinese has his special tea bottle of some strange color with all sorts of leaves floating around.  What I can't figure out is why, with all the good tea in the area, all restaurants serve the low grade teas of a very uncertain color. 

If the girl finds the boy attractive and thinks she might like to get to know him, she pulls out the small stool and replies, "No, this chicken is not for anyone.  You can have it."  The boy then says, "Oh, it looks so delicious we should share it with each other."  They then take the two stools and the chicken and find a private place where they can eat the chicken and get to know each other more.  As my guide explained, "It is very romantic."  He noted that you can try to do this in the daily market, but it is not as good.  It gives you a chance to really know a girl.  Do you think we can get Raley's to give this a try and add romance to the fryers?!

One more note about how history intertwines.  The Thais say that Chiang Mai was founded in 1100 by Mengrai, who built the city and founded the Lanna dynasty where he saw three white barking deer.  He is said to have come from China.  Here in Xishuangbanna, there is a city called Monghai, named after a famous warrior, who is said to have built a pagoda in 1100 where he saw a golden deer, and is credited with being the founder of the Dai and Thai people.  My guess is that Mengrai and Monghai are one and the same, particularly since it only takes 12 hours by boat to Chiang Rai down the Mekong.

What is the importance of Xishuangbanna?  Well, it is in a critical geographical location on the borders of Myanmar, Thailand and Laos.  Every day, tons of Chinese come down here, stay in hotels, use the prostitutes, and drive to the border to buy jade and gems (Aung San Suu Kyi be darned).   Here is where the Chinese are building the big road to Myanmar that has so many Asian countries worried about the political influence it will exert.  You can take a boat to Laos in two hours and Chiang Rai in 12.  Three times a week, there are flights to Chiang Mai and Bangkok.  Thus this is a serious location.

Other than the location, it does not compare with colorful Guizhou.  The cultures here are very sinicized (is this a word?), unless you are way up in the hills in villages that are almost impossible to reach.  The different people do live in villages in houses that echo the traditional styles, but much of their culture is lost and the young fight what still remains. 

Well, I have done Xishuangbanna in spades:  I have visited Dai and Aini villages and talked with the locals, while sitting on tiny stools that remind me that I am on a diet.  In 36 degree heat (my math stinks, but the locals are really complaining that this is far too hot), we have explored the two botanical gardens Xishuangbanna has to offer in the most minute detail you can imagine, including portions no one sees.  Yesterday the Japanese were collapsing under the trees and standing in herds under the sprinklers, as we trotted bravely onward.  I have seen tea, pineapple, and other plantations, climbed tons of steps in the heat to photograph pagodas (I am really pagodaed out), and if I never visit another market again, it may be too soon.  Forget Raleys forever.  I have photographed pomelos and dried fish, families and headdresses, traffic jams and water buffalo jams. 

So now we are off to Tibet and who knows what sort of computer access.  The phone is working, thanks to Chou.  I am saying farewell to the land of Chilis and good food and heading to the land of yak meat, dumplings and tsampa.  I must admit, the thought of someplace cool is appealing.

Toni

Jesse and I just returned from a whirlwind 3 weeks filled with endless plates of dahl baht (the local dish of rice & veggies), countless cups of tea, smiling children with runny noses, and strange glances at the Amazonian blond girl. 

The adventure began in Kathmandu, a mass of humanity that assaults your senses on every level. There are people and motorbikes swarming around you, cars honking, people yelling, smells of spices, smoke and urine, an energy so palpable you can almost touch it.  We visited beautiful Hindu and Buddhist temples, stupas and shrines and the impact of their religion is felt in every aspect of life. 

We also visited Pashupati which is where Hindus bring their dead to be burned on funeral pyres next to the river and later sweep the ashes into the water.  The government kindly provides the wood for this.  What struck me was the group of local onlookers sitting on the other side of the river just casually observing families getting rid of what they call "the used vessels" of their loved ones.  Everything has a public, community feel to it here even death.

After two days in Kathmandu, we hit the road for a 5 hour drive to Pokhara and the gateway to the Annapurna mountain range.  Just as we were arriving in Pokhara, the traffic stopped.  Apparently, the students in Pokhara were protesting something and had parked jeeps across the main road into the city.  In case you aren't familiar, strikes like this happen fairly regularly in Nepal so I almost felt like it was my right of passage to experience one. 

Because of the frequency of the strikes, certain rules have been established so that ambulances, wedding parties and yes, tourists are allowed to pass through the barricades.  Our guide unfolded a well-used sheet of paper from the dashboard with one word in Nepali written on it "Tourists", taped it to the windshield and we were whisked through an endless line of parked trucks, buses and motorbikes into an unnaturally quiet city.

Nepal is a very mountainous country but it’s not all straight up.  It is up and down, then back up and then back down.  Peaks and valleys repeated.  Except for our hike to Nangi which included a grueling 5 hr UPHILL climb followed by another 1.5 of rolling flats.  In case you missed my capitals, it was 5 hr of steps going up the side of a mountain. Imagine getting on the stairmaster, selecting the most difficult, high altitude setting, and putting the timer on 300 minutes.  After that, though, I am pretty sure I can climb anything you put in front of me.  Did I mention I lost 5 lbs on this trip?

I used my trekking poles to save my knees on this assault and apparently some old women we passed said confusedly, "Well, her face looks young but she is using old person sticks."  This area was not used to seeing westerners and all their fancy hiking gear.  Actually for the first couple days, we were in towns that tourists don't stop in and we didn't see another white face anywhere.  Needless to say, blondie here and her 6 ft 4 escort turned quite a few heads walking around town.  In one town - Kusma - we had some time to kill and so Jesse and I sat outside our "guesthouse" (which had never had western guests before) like the locals do and just played cards.   Within a half hour, we had a small crowd around us trying to communicate.  I had one teenage girl who kept repeating the same sentence to me over and over again like all of a sudden I would miraculously understand Nepali and say, "Oh yes!  I understand now.  You just had to repeat it to me 10 times."  Kind of like how people sometimes speak to foreigners louder to "help" them understand.  I had to laugh.  Between my Lonely Planet translations (they all were able to tell me the time and where the bus was), my handful of Nepali words, hand gestures & funny faces, a small photo book of my home and family (a real hit!), we were able to have a.... interaction - not quite conversation.  I am also pretty sure they were telling me to ditch Jesse and marry one of the boys sitting there.  Or maybe we were just supposed to buy him dinner.

The last adventure I'll share was the flight out of Jomsom back to Pokhara, a 20 min flight and possibly the most intense I've experienced.  First, the plane is so small it is a seat, aisle, seat.  The cockpit was 2 feet away with no curtain so I could have grabbed the wheel if I thought it necessary.  The "stewardess" comes down with a tray of hard candies and cotton balls… for your ears.  We take off and wind through the narrowest valley, mountains towering above and around us.  I have a photo of the window out of the cockpit and a wall of mountains in front of us - luckily we turned.  Very crazy but I decided to remain calm and would only freak out if I saw the pilots freak out.  They didn't.

Namaste!
Kate... who uses old person sticks

“I’m going to Madagascar!” I’d tell people gleefully. “The movie?” “No, THE COUNTRY.” 

And people would scratch their head, not quite knowing where Madagascar is on the map.  So let me help you.  Just wander over 12,000 miles by plane (approximately 26 hours of flying and 10 hours of layovers in Dallas and Paris), through 3 continents and enough time zones to screw up your sleeping patterns for at least a week.  Madagascar is a country just east of South Africa, separated by the Mozambique Channel on one side and the Indian Ocean on the other, an island that floats peacefully isolated and is  blissfully ignorant of the rest of the world.   

I was honored to be invited to travel there by Conservation International and the Madagascar Tourism Board as one of only 10 international tour operators that best represent responsible tourism practices in the world.  The 10-day itinerary was designed for us to hit the ground running from Day 1, and for the next nine days, we scoured the country testing standards for hotels, guiding practices, infrastructure, etc, often with schedules that got us up and running from 5:30 am and had us straggling into our hotel rooms well after 10 pm.  The final verdict:  it is in desperate need of reformation, but is making the right strides to get there…eventually.   

The fourth largest island in the world boasts that 80% of its plant and wildlife species are endemic, found nowhere else in the world.  Some scientists call it the “Eighth Continent.”  There are more than 60 “taxa” of lemurs found here, which makes Madagascar one of the most important primate strongholds in the world.  Ancient baobab trees, many estimated to be 600 or more years old, tower sphinx-like among devastated deforested fields, some still sadly smoldering from slash and burn practices.  There are no stoplights – anywhere.  The language, known for its indescribably frustrating long string of consonants, has a vocabulary that strangely evolved from Borneo.  Yet many of the people speak French fluently, an influence of its French colonization from the mid-century.   

So Madagascar, in sum, is one crazy, beautiful, mixed up place to go.  

The Malagasy people are unwaveringly beautiful and kind, with generous smiles and an overwhelming desire to improve their country.  As a Filipina, many assumed I was from Madagascar, and when I opened my mouth, my American accent would leave them open-jawed with amazement that someone who looked like them could actually be an American.  It was a source of continuing entertainment.  As we were leaving, a group of airport porters asked about me, and when told by our guide that I was an American, all four of them let out a simultaneous yelp of disbelief. One of them pulled on my sleeve to make me talk, and when I greeted them in English, they began giggling helplessly.  Jeez. 

The lemurs were fascinating to watch, especially since November is when most babies are born.  The indri calls out with haunting calls throughout the forest, curiously reminiscent of whales singing.  The sifaka dances awkwardly across the forest on two legs.  Nocturnal lemurs have the biggest, brownest, most beautiful eyes.  The crowned lemur is adorable, their facial markings distinctive from other species.  We saw a ton of gorgeous chameleons and geckos in lurid rainbow colors and watched in morbid fascination as a ground boa swallowed a frog (hard to identify, since we only saw its two legs waving frantically from its mouth). 

We spent hours on dirt roads, bumping our way across the country.  In Menabe, the main highway has been ignored for so long that only a narrow, tattered ribbon of asphalt remains.  Our drivers made it an art form to speed by in a zig zag pattern dodging zebu carts, people and massive potholes, often preferring to drive on sidewalks, honking madly as we brushed by angry pedestrians.  One of our cars crossing a river gully on two steel planks popped a tire and as the driver slammed on the brakes, the car ended up with its two right wheels and half the car hanging precariously over the edge of the gully.  Passengers were rescued just fine, thank you very much, and the local villagers kindly donated the use of their zebus and horses to haul the car off the bridge. 

And it was hot.  One day in the Kirindy Forest, our car’s outside thermometer claimed it was 54 centigrade (roughly 138 degrees).  Our driver explained that the thermometer wasn’t working correctly, it was only probably 45 centigrade (120 degrees).  Unfortunately, that was the same day that I was with two other guys in the group who got lost in the forest, and had to spend an hour wandering around in that awful heat until we were rescued, just minutes before I spotted another boa slithering towards us.  Survivor Madagascar, anyone? 

The leeches, surprisingly, weren’t too bad or scary.  I thought they were inch worms until I pulled up my pants leg and found my entire left sock soaked in blood.  Our guide shrugged.  “That means they are already full and fell off.  Not to worry – we use them for medicinal healing.”  So I didn’t worry, threw away the bloody sock, slapped on anti-biotic cream and scratched my itchy leech bites. 

Nonetheless, we were all intrepid travelers, so we brushed off the bad and the ugly, and tried to concentrate on the good.  Go to Madagascar, see things you’ll never see anywhere else in the world, and enjoy the smiles of the people.  It’s a worthwhile destination – for the true wildlife adventure enthusiast.