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		<pubDate>Sun, 19 Feb 2012 20:43:18 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Tai chi was never popular in India, not since the Chinese invaded, but it looks like the lone figure at the runway&#8217;s end is doing just that. Somebody who only learnt one move, and is frozen for all eternity, trying to reach perfection in that beginner&#8217;s move. One move. Maybe he looks a little like [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Tai chi was never popular in India, not since the Chinese<br />
invaded, but it looks like the lone figure at the runway&#8217;s end<br />
is doing just that. Somebody who only learnt one move, and is<br />
frozen for all eternity, trying to reach perfection in that<br />
beginner&#8217;s move. One move. Maybe he looks a little like a<br />
dancing shiva. But the figure is an over weight white male in<br />
late middle age. Unshaven, bent double as if beneath a<br />
crushing weight, he balances on one foot. It makes sense,<br />
because like a spinning top he is ready to fall in any<br />
direction and escape if danger should arise. Harry Ram is<br />
hard at work in presence.<br />
 <br />
The sky is the colour of chocolate, viewed through the starry<br />
perspex of the airplane window. It&#8217;s strange that India has<br />
stayed beside him on the night&#8217;s long flight. Alonso de<br />
Freitas, an Indian of below average height and above average<br />
fairness of skin blinks through his tiredness and myopia and<br />
wonders where the desert is. Sadly, he knows that he is<br />
looking at the familiar sky of India, scorched cotton wool,<br />
still and unmoving. Another blink and remembers why he is in<br />
the cabin of this passenger jet. He looks around the silent<br />
cabin, catches the eye of the blonde stewardess standing<br />
beside him, maybe she woke him, and he smiles at her. Holding<br />
his once famous smile for a long moment he collects his<br />
thoughts, and listens to the roar of the engines emerge from<br />
the silence of his nightmare. Peripheral vision expands to<br />
take in the row of seats to his left, and the other expensive<br />
passengers. Then he looks back out the window. At a sky full<br />
of dirt. He turns to the stewardess.<br />
&#8221; What&#8217;s happened to Dubai. It should be clean out there. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; The  engines&#8217; pollution control system has malfunctioned<br />
and we cannot overfly the Gulf. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; The engines are making all that &#8230;&#8221; The word smog never<br />
seems appropriate, it&#8217;s too much like calling a air crash an<br />
&#8216;accident&#8217;.<br />
&#8221; We will soon be landing at Delhi, sir. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; No problems getting clearance there. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; We have to land somewhere, sir. &#8221; She says drily. &#8221; Can I<br />
get you a drink ?&#8221;<br />
 &#8221; No thanks. &#8221; Alonso looks around and absorbs more of the<br />
scene in the cabin of the 747. Making him think of a Buddhist<br />
monastery he visited in Nepal, long time ago. In the rows of<br />
seats similarly clad businessmen sit stiffly, and their lips<br />
tremble soundlessly. They all wear a type of eyeglazing which<br />
puts them in presence. Divorced from their surroundings, most<br />
of them are working, paying Deccan<br />
an extortionate price to sit at their desks. Why not enjoy the<br />
attention of this woman. Everybody has business to attend to.<br />
He must be the only one with a bare face in a cabin full of<br />
full of contented babies. The phone rings and he looks at it<br />
like it&#8217;s popped of the screen from an old movie. The<br />
stewardess gestures at the phone, then picks it up and<br />
answers for him when he nods slightly. After a moment, she<br />
mutes the phone and says, &#8221; Simi Gupta calling from the<br />
airport. &#8221; He is surprised to discover it&#8217;s Simi. She should<br />
be waiting in presence. Nearby, but not too close, in that<br />
place where he tries to keep them all.<br />
 &#8221; I&#8217;ll take the call,&#8221; he says, &#8221; Thank you. &#8221; The stewardess<br />
 smiles frostily and turns away.<br />
 &#8221; So you couldn&#8217;t keep away ? &#8221; Simi&#8217;s low, excited voice in<br />
his ear.<br />
 &#8221; There&#8217;s a problem with the jet. How did you know they&#8217;ve<br />
turned this bucket of bolts back. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; Singh. &#8221;<br />
&#8221; Huh. You&#8217;re still at the airport. &#8221;<br />
 &#8221; I&#8217;ll be there before you. We don&#8217;t want you to be mobbed<br />
by the  press.&#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; Nobody pays any attention to little me. I haven&#8217;t been<br />
 disturbed on the flight.&#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; That&#8217;s because you&#8217;re in first class and everybody is<br />
working<br />
 furiously in presence. &#8221; He looks around and confirms this.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; I have some work to do myself. &#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; You need to consider your position for the meeting. &#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; Of course you&#8217;re right. &#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; I&#8217;ll see you at the airport. &#8221;<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 &#8221; I heard. Don&#8217;t you have any work to do ? &#8221; He smiles. &#8221; You<br />
 know where I&#8217;ll be. &#8221; she says, and hangs up.<br />
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
 <br />
Simi leaves her office, and takes the elevator to the ground<br />
floor. Walking through the tall domed atrium she steps<br />
through the revolving door onto the street. And starts<br />
walking.<br />
 <br />
The street outside is crowded , and not simply by shoppers,<br />
anyone who can get into the centre does so. Maybe because it<br />
is easy to breathe here. The exhausts from the massive Deccan<br />
building clear the air around Connaught Place, making an<br />
oasis in the centre of Delhi&#8217;s smog. She thinks the entire<br />
population of the city would like to move into this patch,<br />
but of course there&#8217;s security. It&#8217;s still crowded.<br />
When she knows she is reaching her destination she speds up<br />
slightly and steps into a doorway. She wants to do some<br />
shopping before she heads out to the airport.<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
 <br />
Simi gets a ride to the airport in Alonso&#8217;s helicopter. The<br />
pilot likes her so he was more than willing to return from<br />
the airport and pick her up. When they get there, she give<br />
sthe pilot the slip and decides to wait in the dingy<br />
restaurant.<br />
 <br />
Then she notices a stir in the airport. Everbody is talking<br />
about a crash.<br />
 She pushes her way through the crowds and look at the<br />
 arrivals board. His flight has changed to arrived. She goes<br />
to a desk. There&#8217;s chaos. She walks behind the check in<br />
 counters and enters a small office. &#8221; The airport is still<br />
open  ?&#8221; She asks a man shuffling an unravelling pack of<br />
 computer printout.<br />
 <br />
&#8221; No of course not all flights are<br />
 diverted. &#8221; He does not resent her interruption.<br />
&#8221; What  happened to SA210 ? &#8221;<br />
 <br />
&#8221; That&#8217;s not funny miss, it&#8217;s still burning on the runway.&#8221;<br />
&#8221; I have to call my boss. &#8221; She<br />
 announces flatly, reaching for the phone on the desk.<br />
 The plane. Is coming in to land, surprisingly. It hits the<br />
 runway and bumps around more than usual. Alonso feels the<br />
port wing take a dive toward the runway when a single landing<br />
gear<br />
 touches down. He knows that someone on the ground would see<br />
the<br />
 plane hold this position, a single wheel on the<br />
 concrete rushing forward, frozen but managing to convey a<br />
sense that it could tumble any moment. It&#8217;s like a toy plane<br />
in a  travel agents office.<br />
 The moment stretches out until the pilot masterfully rotates<br />
the<br />
 plane and brings the other wheels into contact with the<br />
ground.<br />
 The plane bounces once and is on the ground.<br />
 Aboard the plane it seems to take much longer. Alonso looks<br />
 quickly out of the window, for emergency vehicles and burning<br />
 wreckage. There is nothing out of the ordinary. He wonders<br />
what<br />
 Simi was about when she told him there was a crash. He looks<br />
 around the plane. There is a burst of activity as<br />
 everyone pops back into the plane and begins to gather<br />
 luggage. He sees a man folding his newspaper, and for a<br />
 moment the headline seems to say air disaster, but the paper<br />
is<br />
 shoved into a briefcase before he can be sure. He looks back<br />
and<br />
 sees a young man in the seat across the aisle from him<br />
 consign a pocket calculator and notepad to a large<br />
 briefcase open on his knees. The pad and calculator are<br />
 pushed inside and the young man takes out a newspaper,<br />
Alonso can  just read the headline, New Drought Threat, before<br />
the youngman closes the briefcase and squeezes it down to<br />
floor level.<br />
 Another newspaper.<br />
 He looks across at Alonso as he does so. There is a flicker<br />
of<br />
 recognition and he smiles behind his heavy rimmed glasses. He<br />
 knows that Alonso owns a major business, while he is a<br />
marginal<br />
 passenger on this flight, spomeone who managed to bribe his<br />
way<br />
 onto the plane after a lengthy wait at the a irport. Alonso<br />
is<br />
 here by right. It is surprising that he is travelling on this<br />
 airline at all, but the young man trusts that there must be a<br />
 good reason. Alonso looks at the young man, saying nothing,<br />
 expressionless, and the young man thinks this is a good<br />
 opportunity to introduce himself. He says &#8221; We are very<br />
late. &#8221;<br />
 Alonso nods and looks away, unfamiliar with face to face<br />
contact.<br />
 Let him think you have more important questions to deal with.<br />
 Let him think that you are sitting here while taking part in<br />
some<br />
 distant exchange of information . Let him think whatever he<br />
 likes. The young man takes the hint and picks up the<br />
 newspaper.<br />
 Alonso catches the newspaper headline.<br />
 It has changed to &#8216; Air crash incident at Delhi.&#8217; Alonso<br />
 quickly smiles and asks for the newspaper. The young man<br />
 folds the paper and hands it to him rightaway.<br />
 The plane hurtles down the runway.<br />
 Alonso unfolds the newspaper and reads some speculation<br />
about a<br />
 forthcoming drought. He must have been mistaken.<br />
 He hands the paper back to the man, who has been watching<br />
him the<br />
 whole time.<br />
 &#8221; Thanks.&#8221; The plane rumbles toward the terminal, and Alonso<br />
sees<br />
 his Sikorsky helicopter perched on a pier of the<br />
 terminal. It looks like it must be the pier where he will<br />
 disembark.<br />
 Behind the helicopter, a passenger jet climbs over the roof<br />
of<br />
 the terminal.<br />
 Alonso hears the jet and turns to look over his shoulder. His<br />
 heart races as he watches its bulk approach. He regards the<br />
 relentlessly hardening structure of the jet with<br />
indifference and<br />
 thinks &#8221; Once upon a time this would have upset me.&#8221; The<br />
plane<br />
 may overfly them, but it is now low enough to read the hand<br />
 painted warnings on top of the wings. &#8221; No step. &#8221; he reads,<br />
a<br />
 prophetic phrase, and the plane heads directly for him. The<br />
roof<br />
 buckles as the body of the plane passes a few feet above.<br />
Then<br />
 the wheels of the jet impact the cabin.<br />
 The roof descends like an executioner&#8217;s blessing. Bent<br />
 double he begins a tumble that will end on the tarmac below.<br />
The<br />
 fall will kill him. Otherwise this is just like the air<br />
combat<br />
 video games. No shit.<br />
 <br />
  postcrsh<br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
 <br />
</p>
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<div class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Delhi_Connaught_Place.jpg"><img class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" title="English: Connaught Place, Delhi, India." src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/55/Delhi_Connaught_Place.jpg/300px-Delhi_Connaught_Place.jpg" alt="English: Connaught Place, Delhi, India." width="300" height="183" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Image via Wikipedia</p></div>
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		<title>delhi</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/850</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 19 Feb 2012 19:14:56 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[The trip is best done on any day except Sunday, as many shops are closed then. A walk on Sunday would present less humdrum and activities around the place. Saturdays, on the other hand, tend to be particularly busy. Bring a bottle of water and your camera, but leave any other valuables at home — [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The trip is best done on any day except Sunday, as many shops are closed then. A walk on Sunday would present less humdrum and activities around the place. Saturdays, on the other hand, tend to be particularly busy.</p>
<p>Bring a bottle of water and your camera, but leave any other valuables at home — the Old City is crowded and there are pickpockets lurking about. It is preferable to keep the camera hanging in neck or hold it in hand as generally if kept in pockets, it can easily be pick-pocketed.<br />
[edit]<br />
Get in</p>
<p>The starting point of the tour is Chawri Bazaar station on Delhi Metro Line 2 (Yellow), and the endpoint is Chandni Chowk, the next station on the line.<br />
[edit]<br />
Walk</p>
<p>The Chawri Bazaar station has two unconnected exits, so take the north one to Chawri Bazaar, not the south one towards Ajmeri Gate.</p>
<p>As you clamber to the surface, you&#8217;ll find yourself in the middle of a bustling bazaar — this is Chawri Bazaar. Hail a cycle rickshaw and ask him to take you to Jama Masjid, which shouldn&#8217;t cost more than 20 rupees (word of advice &#8211; choose one without sunshade if weather allows as it provides better view and might be less expensive). It&#8217;s not far in terms of distance, but it&#8217;ll take a while, as the bazaar here is always packed to the hilt, but this just gives you a good chance to look around. Many shops on Chawri Bazaar and adjoining Nai Sarak are devoted to stationery, and in particular the colorful, handmade and exquisite invitation cards that are a prerequisite for any Indian wedding.</p>
<p>Soon you&#8217;ll see the great dome of Jama Masjid, India&#8217;s largest mosque, looming ahead. The cycle rickshaw will drop you off at one of the gates, so take off your shoes and head in. Entry is free, but a photo permit is Rs.200 (a note on photo permit &#8211; if you carry a backpack &#8211; they&#8217;ll assume you have a camera. Even if you don&#8217;t plan on taking pictures &#8211; if you have camera on you &#8211; it will be Rs.200. Interesting thought is to give your camera to your companion and get charged for only one). If you donot want to pay for the camera, give it to your companion and go empty hand. They would then ask if you have a mobile phone with camera and if yes, they will ask for 200 again. Even if you have nothing with you, they may still ask for 200 and in such a case you have to show them the rules written near the gate which says that 200 is chargeable only if you have camera. DO wear some dress which is not at all revealing and covers all your body including legs and it would be easier to get into the mosque. The gatekeeper will want a little baksheesh if he keeps your shoes for you (carry a plastic bag if you like to keep your shoes with you). The gatekeeper may be very rude and may try to manhandle you. Argue with him without being aggressive. Climb to the minaret (an extra Rs.100) is overrated &#8211; the views of the city are great but metal grill all but prevents any kind of decent photographs from being taken plus top has very little room so it gets very crowded very fast. Also your feet/socks will get really dirty on your way to minaret. Word of caution about restroom &#8211; they expect you to pay something for it (Rs 1-5 seems to be ok) and then to squat to do anything &#8211; no standing up for men &#8211; very awkward.</p>
<p>Consider hiring a local guide to take you through Old Delhi&#8217;s streets and to show you old haveli (houses). One may be available near the mosque gates &#8211; but bargain hard &#8211; asking price may be as high as Rs.550/hr (completely insane) &#8211; something along the line of Rs.150-200/tour is still on the high side but probably reasonable.</p>
<p>* To add: Karim&#8217;s http://www.karimhoteldelhi.com/</p>
<p>Karims &#8211; a very famous and old local eatery &#8211; is in a bylane called Gali Kababchi, which is on the daryaganj side of the Jama Masjid &#8211; just few steps away from the mosque. The health conscious should stick to the roasts and the tandoori items and eschew the rich fare of the kormas and stews. Avoid second floor which can get very warm. The place gets full very quickly &#8211; so consider timing your visit to off-lunch/dinner hours.</p>
<p>Eastward from Jama Masjid, you&#8217;ll see Meena Bazar, a popular flea market with antiques (and not-so-antiques) — it&#8217;s also known as Chor Bazar or &#8220;Thieves&#8217; Market,&#8221; so hold onto your wallet and don&#8217;t believe every claim you hear.</p>
<p>Head out from the mosque&#8217;s north gate and follow the curving road, then turn left. Many shops here specialize in fireworks, another Indian wedding staple, but right up the road is Cycle Market, which deals not just in bicycles, but in cameras.</p>
<p>You&#8217;ve now reached Chandni Chowk, the central street of the area. It was built by Shah Jahan, the builder of the Taj Mahal, as a tree-lined, half-moon shaped promenade (hence the name, &#8220;Moon Market&#8221;), but little but the name remains. To the east is Sri Digambar Jain Lal Mandir, a major Jain temple, and behind it is the Lahore Gate entrance to the Red Fort (Lal Qila), but that&#8217;s worth half a day in itself and best left for another day.</p>
<p>To add:<br />
Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gurudwara_Sis_Ganj_Sahib<br />
Gali Paranthewali http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gali_Paranthe_Wali<br />
Jalebis at the beginning of Dariba Kalan<br />
Ghantewala (sohan halwa) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghantewala<br />
Central Baptist Church http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Central_Baptist_Church,_Delhi<br />
Haldiram<br />
Bhagirath Palace (largest electrical goods market in Asia)<br />
Kinari Bazaar (wedding stuff)<br />
St. James Church (Skinner&#8217;s church) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._James&#8217;_Church,_Delhi<br />
[edit]<br />
Stay safe</p>
<p>Old Delhi is full of pickpockets, so don&#8217;t take any more than you need and keep an eye on your cameras and bags. Though the chances of losing things is high, those of finding them are too, on the same day if luck favors. This is because most of the stolen articles reach the Chor Bazaar, or Thieves Market, where you can buy your own articles back rather cheaply!<br />
[edit]<br />
Get out</p>
<p>Take Chandni Chowk&#8217; metro station or backtrack to Chawri Bazaar station on Delhi Metro Line 2, also know popularly as Yellow Line. Hiring rickshaw is always a good option to save walking &#8211; just negotiate your rate. However, during weekdays it may be wise to take a walk in view of the narrow roads and the flow of humanity.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
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<p>&nbsp;</p>
<h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6>
<ul class="zemanta-article-ul">
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://viawalks.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/food-lanes-of-old-delhi-12th-feb-2011/">Food lanes of Old Delhi-12th Feb 2011</a> (viawalks.wordpress.com)</li>
</ul>
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		<title>Brandonamato</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/841</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 19 Feb 2012 18:27:58 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[&#160; Brandonamato I got to Chiang Mai around 9 the following morning.  I had taken a night train from Bangkok around 11 that evening and had even brought a few beers along for the ride to help me sleep.  Instead, those two beers turned into hanging off the side of a train and howling at [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p><a href="http://www.travelblog.com/brandonamato.html">Brandonamato</a></p>
<p>I got to Chiang Mai around 9 the following morning.  I had taken a night train from Bangkok around 11 that evening and had even brought a few beers along for the ride to help me sleep.  Instead, those two beers turned into hanging off the side of a train and howling at the moon with a few strangers I had met in the space between cars.  I was stepping out for a cigarette, when I met a Dutch couple and a boy from Sweden who were sharing laughs and drinks, sitting off the steps of the train and dangling their feet towards the rails below.  The Dutch man looked a lot like Seth Rogen, and having spent some time in Texas with friends he has there, spent most of the night trying to out-Texan me with tales of good ‘ol boy antics, friends in the oil business, and his favorite bands in Texas country music.  His girlfriend, meanwhile, spent most of the night getting drunk and running her hand up and down my back, telling me how good I was.  We ordered a few rounds of beer, at price markups that only trains, airplanes, and amusement parks can get away with, and I stayed up until early in the morning, enjoying the drunken romanticism of foreign night skies, open air, and strangers on a train.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I woke about an hour before arriving in Chiang Mai.  I wanted to go back to sleep, but instead, decided to step out of the train car and sit on the steps again.  I had gotten pretty deep the night before and I wanted to feel the wind from a moving train on my face again and reflect on it, but with the sun this time.  It wasn’t long before the Swede walked in and sat on the steps at the other side of the train.  We had had a major existential conversation after the rest had passed out and he must have had the same idea because neither of us had to say a word, much less acknowledge each other.  We just stared out the train silently, reflecting in the sunlight.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>My first day in Chiang Mai was spent in my room, sleeping.  Seems like a waste, I know, but I needed it.  I spent the following day roaming the city on foot, stopping in at Wats along the way to snap photos of Buddha with a camera I still thought was working, exploring the street markets of the city, and indulging in a rejuvenating Thai massage.  The next morning I got ready for a 2-day trek in the northern hills of Thailand.  I packed a smaller bag for the two days and locked up the rest of my gear and waited out front for the 9 am shuttle.  It was already close to 10 when two beautifully spirited girls, with short shorts and French giggles, ran by me to check into the hotel.  What luck! I thought to myself, I just had to be leaving the morning that they get here.  I mean, who knows, it could have been love at first sight, if I had only had the chance to look either of them in the eyes. </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>The tuk tuk finally arrived and a few minutes after I loaded in with the rest of the people who had signed up, those same two girls, those girls who had me silently wondering whether I should just cancel the tour package and check back into my room, came loading into the back of the tuk tuk, hair still wet from a quick shower and shorts even shorter than before.  We didn’t talk much with each other at first, they didn’t speak much English and I didn’t speak any French, but when we made a pit stop an hour down the road and they bought some beers and climbed to the top of the canopy to enjoy the rest of the ride from the roof, I knew I wanted to talk to them, even if I had to learn French to so.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>After stopping for lunch and walking around an outdoor temple, I climbed up to ride on the roof with them.  It was exhilarating!  The truck speeding up the mountain path, hugging curves, and me dodging branches against the hard wind.  The girls sat behind me, singing a Thai folksong the guide had been teaching them and I listened and enjoyed the ride.  The driver dropped us at a hill tribe village and we took a quick tour of an elementary school, fed a pond of koi fish, and bought some beers for the hike.  I spent the next four hours hiking through the forests of Thailand, climbing up hill, crossing rivers on log bridges, and excitingly anticipating the waterfalls.  The hike was a lot fun and I enjoyed the exertion.  It helped that the girls were hiking in front of me and one of them had no problem hiking in jean shorts cut in the shape of a thong.  I could hear my dad in my head, God bless her!  I enjoyed having the girls around.  Though they kept to themselves mostly, laughing with each other in French, their easy and generous way brought a fresh breath of disruption to the group.  They spiced everything up, made each step forward interesting, at least, for me. </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>It was close to dusk when we reached the camp, just a small walk away from a waterfall on the river, and while the others were settling in, I changed into my trunks and jumped in before I completely lost my sweat.  I stood under the fall, taking in the power of the water crashing down on me as it cooled my skin.  Soon, our guide Pot, a 25 year old local with long wavy hair and a smile bigger than his face, jumped in and showed me how to get to the top of the fall by climbing the roots of a tree growing over the rocks.  Then he showed me how jump off the waterfall.  I must have done it three times after that. We spent the rest of the night sitting around the campfire after we had finished eating dinner, playing with the fire and singing along with the guitar.  I hadn’t really spoken with the girls too much, but I already felt a connection with them.  I liked how they sat around me, how they would smile and offer me a cigarette, how as the night drew on, our bodies sat closer and closer, until I had one girl leaning against my shoulder and the other lying against my legs.  The girls were the first to go to bed, they had stayed up late on a night train to Chiang Mai the night before, only to show up with barely enough time to take a quick shower before catching their guide.  It was understandable.  I was sad to see them go, but I was happy they had been here.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I slept until nine the next morning and asked Pot to cook me up another frog from last night.  After everyone had gone to bed, Pot took me and the last of the Irish on a frog hunting expedition. Its only fair to say that he did all the work.  Me and the Irishman could barely stand, but Pot was able to walk the river and had nabbed a bottle full of small frogs.  He had cooked one for us to all share the night before and now he was cooking one just for me.  I poured myself some tea, ate my barbequed breakfast, and noticed how, as Samantha leaned forward, the sunlight would silhouette her figure and I could see her naked body through the thin cloth she wore over it.  She was quite beautiful.  A free spirit wrapped inside a delicate, yet vibrant body.    I made it a point not to notice again though the image was stained in my mind.   I was a little anxious when I heard the group was splitting.  Five of the eight had signed up for a three day trek.  I would have too, except, my visa expired the following day and I had already arranged a bus to Laos.  It was a bummer to have to split up the group, and the guides kept trying to get me to upgrade, and who knows, maybe I would have, if I hadn’t realized that the guides were asking Samantha and Jenni to also. Suddenly, having to take group pictures, saying goodbyes, and promising to see each other later on Facebook, wasn’t as depressing as it usually is。         </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>We spent the first half of the day hiking to a waterfall.  We would stop along the way to interact with plants or play with spiders or just catch our breath.  Sam and Jenni had a cool vibe about them and I felt blessed that things had worked out so well.  I had been so upset when I first realized that I only got a 15-day visa since I crossed the border by land.  But this makes it worth it. I remember thinking, if I had had more time, I would have definitely signed up for the 3-day and would have been kicking myself right now.  We stopped for lunch at a gorgeous waterfall.  We ate first and then I spent the next half hour, standing under the fall and meditating. </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>After lunch, we set out to find the truck that would take us to the elephant camp.  The camp was ok.  Once at the circus, when I was a child, I rode an elephant.  This wasn’t much different, except I got to straddle its neck this time, which was actually pretty cool.  I liked how its big ears would wrap around my calves and hold onto me while it walked along.  Its head was dry and rough, but the ears were smooth and cooling.  I bought a banana bunch and fed it one by one to it.  It would raise its trunk over its head and point it at me while sucking in like a vacuum.  Then it would grab the banana from my hand and put it in its mouth and immediately ask for more.  I ran out quickly, but that didn’t stop it from trying.  The girls gave me a cookie to feed it, but it just crumbled it up and dropped it to its head.  Jenni was kind enough to give me a bottle of water and have me pour some on its head to cool it off and even thought to have me give the rest to the elephant guide.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>From there, we went for a ride down the river on a bamboo boat, which again was, ok.  We stood up and surfed the river, doing really well about keeping our balance, until three-fourths down the way, we hit a rock that threw us all in.  The guide’s steering stick broke in half, so Jenni took one part and started guiding us down the river herself.  She did a fine job of it too. So, when I say that the elephant camp and the bamboo ride were ok, they were nothing special.  Having Sam and Jenni along, that made it worthwhile.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>The worst was when we finished.  I had to be back at the hotel so I could catch my bus to Laos at ten the next morning.  The girls had already pre-booked a night at some hotel further up the mountain.  The plan was to drop them off where a driver would pick them up and then take me back to the city.  I could see we were all a little disappointed, but there wasn’t much anyone could do.  One of the greatest things about traveling is the people you meet along the way.  The hardest part is when you have to say goodbye.  We began to load back in the truck, saying goodbye to Pot before we did.  He had to catch up to the original group before nightfall.  The girls hugged him and kissed his cheeks, I shook his hand and gave him a hug.  They then hugged and kissed me before remembering that they would have to say goodbye to me one more time. I was fine with that.  After that goodbye, I was looking forward to another one.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p> I was quiet most of the way.  We all were.  Silent, soft smiles on everyone’s face.  Sam started singing to herself.  Maybe it was the way she smiled as she sang it, or maybe it was the way she smiled at me, as she sang it, but it seemed like some part of her was singing to some part of me. Some part of me that was screaming, don’t let her go and some part of her that was asking the same thing. </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>As we continued driving, I drew more anxious for the next stop, that last stop.  Until we had driven far enough that we could have been driving them all the way to the hotel.  And that’s what we did.  As they unloaded their luggage, we said goodbye one more time.  Jenni hugged and kissed my cheeks again.  Sam hugged me and kissed my cheek several times, as if again, with each strong embrace, some part of her was asking me not to go.  I watched them walk up to the front desk and jumped in the front seat of the truck with the driver.  He was putting her in gear, when I quickly asked, How far is the city?  It was an hour away.  Hmm, it was already dark I explained to him and to myself, what if I were to just stay here tonight?  Could I get a ride back to the hotel before ten the next morning?  He smiled and nodded towards the hotel asking, you go boom boom?  I smiled, I don’t know, but I’d like to try.  He seemed more than happy to help me out and gave me his card, promising to pick me up early in the morning.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>I grabbed my pack and made my way up to book a room.  The girls were happy to see me.  I told them since it was already late, I decided I might as well just stay here, its beautiful afterall.  They asked the receptionist to put our rooms close together.  We found our rooms right across from each other and knew we would meet later for dinner.  I got showered, the girls got dolled up, and an hour or so later, we went to find some food.  At the bottom of the road, we saw what looked like a taco stand and immediately a man began calling and waving to us.  It was our driver.  He was getting drunk off a bottle before having to fall asleep in a hammock strung up in the back of the tuk tuk.  We went over and he ordered us drinks and said he would take us out for food. Well, he was drunk, so he had me drive.  I have to say, aside from stalling out once in the middle of a slope, I did a good job considering it was a winding road and I was driving on the left.  We had a good dinner, full of laughs and insights about one another and after a few more drinks, I drove us back.  Though this time, the driver was already passed out in his hammock in the back and the girls sat up front with me. I guess I’m not that keen on downshifting, because I tended to go a little too fast on the curves going down.  The poor hammock was swinging all over the place.  But I got us all home safe and sound. </p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>It was late, but it was also our last night, this time, for sure.  If I wasn’t in Laos by sundown the next day, I was going to have a shitty immigration problem on my hands.  We went in their room and promised not to go to bed before we finished all the beer and cigarettes.  We stayed up until almost three in the morning talking about sex and relationships, monogamy and marriage, of the joy they are sure to bring and of the failures that inevitably follow.  An old lady from down the hall knocked at our door to remind us what time it was.  I promised to keep it down.  She persisted that she was tired and wanted to sleep.  I closed the door.  The beer was gone, we shared the last cigarette, Jenni looked tired, Sam looked sleepy.  I kissed them both goodbye one last time.  They wanted me to promise that I would wake them up before I left.  I told them I was leaving at six in the morning.  They told me they would leave the door unlocked.  I wanted to promise, but I knew it was better this way.  This is how I wanted to say goodbye.  I went to my room and began scribbling a letter to slide under their door in the morning, when I left.  But before I could finish, I got a knock at the door.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>Come in.  My door was left unlocked purposely.  I had hoped, a vague and desperate hope that bordered on fantasy, that if I left it unlocked, maybe someone would open it from the outside.  That it would be opened just as it was being opened now.  Sam slipped into the room wearing red panties and a t-shirt.  Before my heart even had a chance to flutter, she said in that French tone I love so much,  Tonight, I sleep with you.  I smiled, I hoped you’d say that.  Just sleep, she added as she took off her shirt.  I stared at her bare back before I turned off the light. Just sleep,  I said smiling, whatever you say…</p>
<p> Coming up&#8230;Part V: Laos, the last chapter</p>
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		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/819</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 18 Feb 2012 13:21:10 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="flickrTag_container"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/59404647@N06/5518647742/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5093/5518647742_f788a14657.jpg" alt="swampdonkey_detail2" class="flickr square tag"  title="benched in oregon"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/2345129462/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2207/2345129462_931d67af59.jpg" alt="KERSE" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;KERSE&lt;/b&gt;
&amp;quot;Guts&amp;quot;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;

&lt;a href=&quot;http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/scout.php?mode=history&amp;amp;id=2345129462&quot;&gt;FLICKR Explore&lt;/a&gt;'d"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5279816626/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5083/5279816626_1ee3a6d98d.jpg" alt="FATIGE" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;M F K&lt;/b&gt;

I took this photo a year ago to the day!

&lt;b&gt;BNFE 19789
Western Fruit Express&lt;/b&gt;
This car was scraped 12/2009.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5083/5279816626_1ee3a6d98d_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5528559110/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5176/5528559110_c946a3131a.jpg" alt="SLICK" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;D Z T&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5176/5528559110_c946a3131a_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5673316062/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5142/5673316062_faff9179f6.jpg" alt="McCloud River" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;Railroad Company&lt;/b&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5053975137/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4127/5053975137_f47788a835.jpg" alt="TICTAC • DAKTO" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;Norfunk Southern&lt;/b&gt;
Feel the funk&lt;i&gt;!&lt;/i&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4127/5053975137_f47788a835_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6313056650/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6092/6313056650_391586e468.jpg" alt="PASER" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;M F K&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6092/6313056650_391586e468_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/66253293@N00/2273024833/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2075/2273024833_506f172c3f.jpg" alt="Old Alabama Railcar" class="flickr square tag"  title="A rusting heritage train sitting in the rail yard of the Heart of Dixie Railroad Museum, Calera, Alabama. Seen in Explore 2/17/08, photo #497."/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/39753490@N03/5763248508/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2176/5763248508_929e445235.jpg" alt="Deuce Seven" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4173012707/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2753/4173012707_14882e4f45.jpg" alt="SSW 62907" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;COTTON BELT&lt;/b&gt;
This photo is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2753/4173012707_14882e4f45_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6940251137/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7064/6940251137_711519dfc2.jpg" alt="MERS" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;SHELL SHOCK&lt;/b&gt;!
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7064/6940251137_711519dfc2_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4792122613/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4077/4792122613_b4ba21a201.jpg" alt="ROMANSE" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;DRIF &bull; MANOS&lt;/b&gt;
A stitched photo made from 6 original photos.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4077/4792122613_b4ba21a201_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/7184089582/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7222/7184089582_680e034d96.jpg" alt="Happy National Train Day 2012" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;BNSF 6967 and foamers&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7222/7184089582_680e034d96_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Fullerton, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/83791520@N00/7188125774/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm9.static.flickr.com/8013/7188125774_0d72d47de3.jpg" alt="heading home" class="flickr square tag"  title="On a winter's evening a Newcastle bound passenger train pauses at High Street station, picking up a few commuters heading home."/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22312164@N00/4056835243/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2505/4056835243_375e8d8bf4.jpg" alt="Tense - Soke" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;a href=&quot;http://bighugelabs.com/onblack.php?id=4056835243&amp;amp;size=large&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;View On Black&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;a href=&quot;http://loc.alize.us/#/flickr:4056835243&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;See where this picture was taken.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/groups/geotagging/discuss/72157594165549916/&quot;&gt;[?]&lt;/a&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22312164@N00/4914006812/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4076/4914006812_a6b1c42ef0.jpg" alt="Isto (angle one)" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4285696183/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4042/4285696183_43688100b1.jpg" alt="M S G" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;NORMEL&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4042/4285696183_43688100b1_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/40499097@N05/6272654930/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6120/6272654930_557f04f86c.jpg" alt="Fall Color In Field - Rockies N7395e" class="flickr square tag"  title="We had a stop at Field, a small town near Golden when we were on the way back to Vancouver.

We saw the fall color with the rail car in the late afternoon near the end of Canadian Rockies trip.

Have a great Sunday!"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/1350075062/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1186/1350075062_a35706d7fe.jpg" alt="DEUCE SEVEN via Holga120N" class="flickr square tag"  title="One of my favorite writiers captured with one of my favorite cameras.

&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/true2death/tags/DEUCEseven/&quot;&gt;DEUCE SEVEN&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/b&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Anaheim, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/2702141274/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2702141274_f9ab21e280.jpg" alt="MERS • CBS" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/true2death/tags/merscbs/&quot;&gt;MERS CBS&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/b&gt; (up close)
Fresh for 2008 you suckas!

Stitched Panorama from 18 original photos. This was a bitch to shot. A tight spot with tumbleweeds and chemicals near by. I had to throw a grimy plastic crate on top of the tumbleweeds to get the shot. It was well worth it. Best viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2702141274_f9ab21e280_b.jpg&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

To see the whole car, &lt;a href=&quot;http://flickr.com/photos/true2death/2701725956/&quot;&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Orange County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/3416167450/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3297/3416167450_479617dc8b.jpg" alt=""Don't tread on me"" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;HINDUE &bull; KORE&lt;/b&gt;
Better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3297/3416167450_479617dc8b_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/3484449200/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3662/3484449200_697d810c89.jpg" alt="BRAIL" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;BRAIL-&lt;/b&gt;

Best viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3662/3484449200_697d810c89_b.jpg&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;
A &lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photo_stitching&quot;&gt;stitched panorama&lt;/a&gt; made from 5 original photos.

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5097836385/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1064/5097836385_27963d316c.jpg" alt="MERS" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;CBS &bull; LORDS&lt;/b&gt;
A straight shot for old man Loadstone.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4767946269/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4139/4767946269_4d3997a338.jpg" alt="whole car" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;SWAB&lt;/b&gt;
SLUTS &bull; UTI &bull; LAW
A stitched panorama made from 9 original photos.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4139/4767946269_4d3997a338_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5575389115/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5107/5575389115_b07acc50e8.jpg" alt="A M F M" class="flickr square tag"  title="A stitched panorama made from 8 photos.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5107/5575389115_b07acc50e8_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6317700108/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6053/6317700108_e871e54f5b.jpg" alt="GOULS" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;A2M &bull; GTB&lt;/b&gt;
getting benched by &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/centacercle/&quot;&gt;DCAN 1&lt;/a&gt;.
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6053/6317700108_e871e54f5b_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6268220224/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6218/6268220224_4e4beca1a7.jpg" alt="DAZE" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;T N&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6218/6268220224_4e4beca1a7_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6297298415/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6103/6297298415_6034b7f82d.jpg" alt="ACT" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;BOXSTARS&lt;/b&gt;
circa 1997
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6103/6297298415_6034b7f82d_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/2880200667/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3258/2880200667_2e03d01668.jpg" alt="SNAFU" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://flickr.com/photos/true2death/tags/snafu/&quot;&gt;SNAFU&lt;/a&gt;
&amp;quot;ECT CET ERA&amp;quot;&lt;/b&gt;
Best viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3258/2880200667_2e03d01668_b.jpg&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;
Stitched panorama from 15 original photos. I have been sick lately. I even missed work two days. I started feeling better and decided to go for a quick bench to get back into the swing of things. This was worth the trip.

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Fullerton, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5073652275/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4088/5073652275_1a0651af24.jpg" alt="FUEGO • MEWT" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;K N D&lt;/b&gt;
A stitched panorama made from 8 photos. This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4088/5073652275_1a0651af24_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23014970@N08/2811914215/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3291/2811914215_3f056bd7bf.jpg" alt="King 157" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6939916845/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7059/6939916845_d67e939e7d.jpg" alt="AUNR • SIGN • SINK" class="flickr square tag"  title="This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7059/6939916845_d67e939e7d_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6834294675/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7014/6834294675_6b18d77a22.jpg" alt="ISTO • RIVER • MAPLE • HEAT" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;T C I&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7014/6834294675_6b18d77a22_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23014970@N08/6919405155/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7198/6919405155_d5ab2434db.jpg" alt="A TCI Thanksgiving" class="flickr square tag"  title="Finally got my chance to see this one."/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23014970@N08/6843962521/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7202/6843962521_68d3ef3074.jpg" alt="Intel/Hybrid" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23014970@N08/7030553443/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7045/7030553443_d087f1d44b.jpg" alt="Whites" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/35835471@N00/7184592980/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7075/7184592980_d276c836f4.jpg" alt="Athenry" class="flickr square tag"  title="Saturday, 12 May 2012

2720/21 enters Athenry railway station with the 1430hrs WRC service from Galway to Limerick. 

&copy; Finbarr O'Neill"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/32074628@N05/6265554812/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6156/6265554812_bf29029041.jpg" alt="ashr-spur-bible-zoor" class="flickr square tag"  title="ashr, spur, bible, zoor"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22312164@N00/4751336792/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4094/4751336792_d706fcdfb6.jpg" alt="El Kamino" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/22312164@N00/4997007206/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4148/4997007206_c6871190e2.jpg" alt="Atomik" class="flickr square tag" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/32074628@N05/7197265660/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm9.static.flickr.com/8014/7197265660_6c11878a93.jpg" alt="CEK - PHEVR" class="flickr square tag"  title="CEK , PHEVR"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/59173493/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/33/59173493_3e06928b3d.jpg" alt="ハイチュウ" class="flickr square tag"  title="HI-CHEW on the JR?
Spotted on the way from Tokyo to my brother-in-laws place in Yokohama. Being that I have a soft spot for HI-CHEW, I was so happy to see these straps. I even peeled one of them off and placed it in my sketch book.
TYPICAL BAKA GAIJIN!

WEBSITE: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morinaga.co.jp/hi-chew/&quot;&gt;HI-CHEW&lt;/a&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/412372864/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/167/412372864_17d8665cf4.jpg" alt="PARS KIDS "Wrickage Kult"" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.parskid.com/&quot;&gt;PARS KID&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
Spotted just off Ball Road in Anaheim, CA.

photo: 2/23/2006

I have more PARS KIDS photos:&lt;b&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://flickr.com/photos/true2death/tags/parskid/&quot;&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/3788091904/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3554/3788091904_28cd07c294.jpg" alt="Improper Trackside Etiquette" class="flickr square tag"  title="Heroin... not good. 

&lt;i&gt;Benching in Los Angeles County, CA
&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4235080677/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4030/4235080677_b51ddcc1e3.jpg" alt="K N D" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt; FUEGO&lt;/b&gt;
This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4030/4235080677_b51ddcc1e3_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/4256020524/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4039/4256020524_349228e5c4.jpg" alt="Damn right is was a good day" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;JASE &bull; CYCLE
&lt;/b&gt;+ &lt;b&gt;TWIST&lt;/b&gt;
This photo is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4039/4256020524_349228e5c4_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Los Angeles County, CA&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/5441143246/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4098/5441143246_844a1267b2.jpg" alt="OPT • SEYOE • OMEX" class="flickr square tag"  title="This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4098/5441143246_844a1267b2_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6338402368/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6227/6338402368_5cc99ba005.jpg" alt="QUOTA!" class="flickr square tag"  title="This image is better viewed: &lt;a href=&quot;http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6227/6338402368_5cc99ba005_b.jpg&quot; rel=&quot;nofollow&quot;&gt;LARGE&lt;/a&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/6799748004/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7186/6799748004_f78c0cf6aa.jpg" alt="TEX GOTH" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;Y2K+10&lt;/b&gt;

&lt;i&gt;Benched in Southern California&lt;/i&gt;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50686224@N00/531417260/" class="flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1242/531417260_714bdf240c.jpg" alt="EASY FH "OH WELL..."" class="flickr square tag"  title="&lt;b&gt;EAST FH&lt;/b&gt;
&amp;quot;OH WELL...&amp;quot;

&lt;i&gt;Anaheim ,CA&lt;/i&gt;

&lt;b&gt;brothaDarkniz&lt;/b&gt; spotted the same freight/same day/same spot:  &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.flickr.com/photos/51787783@N00/524008565/&quot;&gt;view his photo&lt;/a&gt;"/></a></p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Welcome</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/806</link>
		<comments>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/806#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Jan 2012 11:48:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://travelblog.co.uk/?p=806</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[GB:52.466702,-1.916700]]></description>
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<h3>Travelling? Webcam ready ? <a href="http://travelblog.com/life/recorder.html">Record a videoblog </a>Now!</h3>
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<p>Now Playing: <a href="http://travelblog.com/star/tokyo-trip/tripvacation-to-tokyo-japan-2007-part-2-of-2-video_b15cc7472.html">Tokyo trip &#8211; Trip/Vacation to Tokyo Japan 2007 Part 2 of 2</a></p>
<div id="Playerholder"><noscript></noscript><object width="430" height="344" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><param name="src" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qSHpAa2At2c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;hd=1&amp;rel=0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;color2=0x444444&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;iv_load_policy=3" /><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><embed width="430" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qSHpAa2At2c&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;hd=1&amp;rel=0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;color2=0x444444&amp;showsearch=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;iv_load_policy=3" allowFullScreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" /> </object></div>
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<p>alinafrica Posted by alinafrica @ 17:12</p>
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<p><br/><br/><a class="geolocation-link" href="#" id="geolocation806" name="28.6423611,77.21711110000001" onclick="return false;">Posted from New Delhi, Delhi, India.</a></p>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 06 Nov 2011 23:05:33 +0000</pubDate>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>You’re Overseas, you’d love to have a Video Chat but it’s the middle of the night at home.<br />
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<h1><a href=http://travelblog.com/vidi >Start travelblog</a></h1>
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<h2 class="entry-title">	 Egypt Trip 2011 &#8211; Day 02 Exploring Cairo			</p>
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<p><H3> Skype your Video to travelblog </H3></p>
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<p>Video Mail! Skype travelblog and leave a voice or video message. Email your friends ( from your Hotmail or Gmail contacts list ) and they can view your video whenever they like. Make videos private or public.</p>
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<h3 class="widget-title"><img src="http://mystatus.skype.com/smallicon/travelblog" align="absmiddle">Skype travelblog</h3>
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<h3><a href=http://travelblog.co.uk/aveazey/2011/10/20/fall-break-in-cambodia/ >Fall Break in Cambodia</a></p>
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<p>October 20, 2011 Annie</p>
<p>Royal Palace in Phnom Penh<br />
So here in Dalian it has started getting cooler, marking our Fall Break! We had a week off, as we do not have any days provided off to celebrate Thanksgiving. So my thoughts turned to somewhere warmer…. Southeast Asia! Cambodia to be exact. I traveled with three other women I teach with….We went to Phenom Phen and Siem Reap, the two largest cities in the country. We had quite the experience….We we able to see the S-21 Prison Camp that the Khumer Rouge used during the 70′s, as well as “The Killing Fields”. It was haunting…Also Angor Wat, the ancient temple, and the “Floating Villages” where whole towns including the schools, float on rafts!! It was amazing!! We visited a rural village and got to experience “first-hand” how they harvest thier guava, banana, and coconut trees. They also grow and dry thier own rice and raise hogs and chickens for the local market. We we able to share a meal with them and visit the community school down the dirt road. As a teacher myself, it was probably the most eye-opening experience of the trip, and as you can probably guess it was VERY different from back home or EVEN HERE in China!! Definetly the most fun was hiking down to a beautiful waterfall and riding in what the locals call a “Tuk Tuk”. It is sort of a cross between a carriage and a chariot!?!?:) Eating the local curry dish called “Amok” wasn’t bad either…..Anyway, overall it was a great trip; kind people, beautiful weather, amazing history….</p>
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<div class='journeylink_title'><a href='http://jauntlet.com/5764'>En Route Pour L&#8217;Amerique Latine</a></div>
<div class='journeylink_date'>January 28, 2011 to September 28, 2011</div>
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<p><br/><br/><a class="geolocation-link" href="#" id="geolocation784" name="52.45,-1.91700000000003" onclick="return false;">Posted from Birmingham, England, United Kingdom.</a></p>
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		<title>Travel Video Mail</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/780</link>
		<comments>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/780#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 05 Nov 2011 15:39:02 +0000</pubDate>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>You&#8217;re Overseas, you&#8217;d love to have a Video Chat but it&#8217;s the middle of the night  at home.<br />
Skype travelblog and leave a Video Mail . They can see your Video in the Morning.<br />
Make your video private or Publish your Video on travelblog.com.</p>
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		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/756</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2011 17:39:13 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://travelblog.co.uk/?p=756</guid>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGGAM2GPcnE[/youtube]<br/><br/><a class="geolocation-link" href="#" id="geolocation756" name="52.45,-1.91700000000003" onclick="return false;">Posted from Birmingham, England, United Kingdom.</a></p>
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		<title>how it works</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/750</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 22 Jul 2011 08:36:13 +0000</pubDate>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/38605191@N05/4558160849"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/4558160849_c5e9051aa3_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" hspace="5" /></a><br/><br/><a class="geolocation-link" href="#" id="geolocation750" name="52.45,-1.91700000000003" onclick="return false;">Posted from Birmingham, England, United Kingdom.</a></p>
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		<title>insight</title>
		<link>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/743</link>
		<comments>http://travelblog.co.uk/blog/archives/743#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 15 Jul 2011 14:46:16 +0000</pubDate>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[book id='' 1"<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/18581423@N04/5048454859"><img title="Pahar Ganj Police station" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4145/5048454859_8b75928a09_m.jpg" border="0" alt="Pahar Ganj Police station" hspace="5" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/44124462087@N01/4651428914"><img title="20100412-P1020604" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4033/4651428914_d6c27cc791_m.jpg" border="0" alt="20100412-P1020604" hspace="5" /></a>/]<br/><br/><a class="geolocation-link" href="#" id="geolocation743" name="52.45,-1.91700000000003" onclick="return false;">Posted from Birmingham, England, United Kingdom.</a></p>
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