Maybe Next Trip

Author: jonathanholburt

  • Mesmerizing Mexico City is the New Capital of Cool

    Wall of Skulls Gin Gin Bar Mexico City

    During a Taco Crawl in Mexico City’s Roma neighborhood, we came upon Carinita. Packed with the young, hip set that now defines the hood, Thai tacos were served in corn husks. Never heard of Thai tacos? Neither did I. But I’ll never forget them either, wolfing down a spicy one called Isaan. We had al pastor tacos at next stop Tacos los Alexis where the bill is provided in a miniature shopping card. 

    Roma, featured in the Oscar winning movie of the same name, is filled with restless humanity ebbing and flowing while scouting for restaurants, cafés, bars, and music clubs. A baroque mansion is converted into a bazaar. At Gin Gin, walls decorated with rows of skulls illuminated by red lighting, we downed mezcal spiked cocktails.

    Pinnacle moment for the city

    Mexico City is having its pinnacle moment. In November 2023 Time Out named it the number one city in the world for culture. Time Out also rated it the sixth best city in the world to visit in 2024. But it’s not just the foreign media that praise the city. Locals love it too, according to Time Out. 96% say they are happy living there. 94% say it’s easy to make friends. After my fourth visit there I’m a convert. Some cities are sonnets, other are short stories or a novel. Monumental, magical Mexico City is an all-engrossing trilogy.

    CDMX sign at Zocalo

    During the 1990s and early 2000s Mexico City was known for treacherous streets and unbreathable air. In 2001 the Washington Post ran an article titled, “A kidnapper around every corner.” Express kidnappings were common: tourists were grabbed and driven to ATMs around the city to withdraw cash or else. In 1992 the UN named it the world’s most polluted city. Now, according to Swiss company, IQAir, it’s ranked 917th. You may still be breathless here but because of the elevation. At 7,350 feet Mexico City, ringed by mountains and two volcanoes, is certainly high. Why did it improve so dramatically? Strong leadership by former mayor Claudia Sheinbaum and other civic leaders who transformed this maximum metropolis.

    Colossus of the Americas

    At 22.28 million people, second only to Sao Paulo in the Americas, the city is a colossus. The National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) is the largest in the Americas with 373,000 students and 42,000 staff. Its public art work is also massive in scale, earning it a place on UNESCO’s World Heritage Sites in 2007. The ten-story high Biblioteca Central is a tapestry of mosaics depicting Aztec times and colonial history by artist Juan O’Gorman. Other colossal mosaic artworks on campus are from David Siqueiros and Francisco Eppens.

    Bibloteca Central UNAM

    Altiplano Venice

    Other great cities are built on a river, lake, or seashore. While Mexico City was built on the drained Lake Texcoco, water is not the city’s defining element. But there is an exception, the canals at Xochimilco, originally built by the Aztecs. Located at the southern edge of the city, this UNESCO World Heritage Site is where families and friends rent trajineras, gondolas, and glide along canals amongst floating islands call chinampas while passing boats of mariachi bands playing music, and others selling cervezas and tamales or a traditional alcoholic drink called pulque. Poinsettias and marigolds thrive here. A creepy feature of these Venice-like canals are the dolls that are strung up on shacks and trees These pay homage to the Isle of the Dolls where Don Julian Santana Berrera hung a multitude of children’s dolls from trees, time and the elements disfiguring them.

    Gondolas at Xochimilco

    History going back thousands of years

    Museo de Antropologio

    At the summit of Mexico City’s cultural offerings is the world famous Museo Nacional de Antropologia. Designed by architect Pedro Ramirez Vazquez and opened in 1964 it depicts Mexico’s history from pre-Hispanic times. From colossal Olmec heads weighing 20 tons to the replica of King Pakal’s tomb to the Aztec Sun Stone that is the symbol of Mexico, the museum takes hours to absorb. The central plaza is dominated by a monumental sculptured column with a gushing fountain of water and a huge concrete canopy that acts as an umbrella. In front of the museum indigenous Totonac twirl in a flying pattern from the top of a 30-meter pole to the sound of rhythmic music. This ritual dance is known as the Voladores de Papantla ceremony.

    Olmec head

    While the Museo Nacional de Antropologia depicts Mexico’s storied past, the Zocalo, also known as the Plaza de Constitucion has been the city’s and the country’s center of power since Aztec times. It is one of the world’s largest squares: 220 meters north to south, 240 meters east to west. The ceremonial center of the Aztec civilization was here: the Teocali of Tenochitlan. After defeating the Aztecs Cortes dismantled the Aztec pyramids and used the stones to pave the plaza and build the Metropolitan Cathedral. The baroque cathedral was built between 1573 and 1658, athough elements of the building were not completed until the end of the 18th century. Breathtaking in scale, it’s 109 meters long, 59 meters wide and 65 meters high. To get a sense of its majesty I went into the choir area and listened to its two massive organs being played during mass. The largest in the Americas, they were completed in 1736.

    Protest in front of Metropolitan Cathedral

    Near the cathedral is a line of people wating to be spiritually cleansed by Aztec shamans. The ceremony, known as limpia, included being rubbed with herbs and having a silver cup of smoke blown into your face. It ended with the haunting sound of a conch shell being blown.

    Aztec shaman performing cleansing ceremony

    Rivera’s murals depict Mexican history

    Palacio Nacional

    The Palacio Nacional is opposite from the cathedral on the Zocalo. The Aztec emperor Moctezuma II occupied the first palace here, which Cortes replaced with a fortress. The Spanish crown took it over and transformed it into a palace the New Spain viceroys. After independence, the presidents of Mexico have lived here, including current the president. In the palace is a series of nine murals by Diego Rivera, painted between 1929 and 1951. The largest mural is The History of Mexico. Rivera commuted here from the Blue House, the home that he shared with Frida Kahlo in the Coyoacan neighborhood. Now a museum, it illustrates their life and trials together.

    Detail from The History of Mexico mural

    In the palace I passed through a cactus garden representing northern Mexico and tropical garden representing its south. In the symmetrical palace’s courtyard I climbed stairs to reach the murals. On my left is the entrance to the president’s residence. The palace allows only 240 visitors a day on free guided tours. On most days, the military closes the palace completely to visitors.

    Palacio Nacional courtyard

    Mexico’s mural masters

    At the nearby Palacio de Bellas Artes, started in 1905 but only completed in 1934, a delay caused by the Mexican Revolution, the floors are dominated by murals by Mexico’s most famous muralists: Diego Rivero, Rufino Tamayo, David Alfaro Siqueiros and Jose Clemente Orozco. Rivera’s “Man at the Crossorads” was originally painted at the Rockefeller Center in New York until Nelson Rockefeller ordered it painted over because it included flattering images of Lenin and a Soviet May Day parade.

    Palacio de Bellas Artes

    Culinary art and lively nightlife

    Mexico City isn’t all about museums. Cafes and bars, restaurants and music serenade the senses. Opened in 1952 the Café La Habana with its sepia toned colour scheme, was a favorite haunt of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara as they planned the Cuban Revolution. Nobel prize winning writers Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Octavio Paz socialized here. My son and I soaked in the atmosphere over hot chocolates.

    Cafe La Habana

    The storied La Opera has been serving drinks and food to Mexico’s richest and most powerful since 1876. Revolutionary Pancho Villa fired a bullet into the ceiling in protest against the plutocrats who congregated here. The dictator Porfirio Diaz was a regular here as was Gabriel Garcia Marquez who once refused to autograph napkins for fans but later returned with autographed books for all of them.

    Haute cuisine

    Quintonil restaurant, Polanco

    Lately, Mexico City has become a mecca for haute cuisine with three of the world’s top 50 restaurants. Our most memorable meal was at Quintonil, ranked 9th in the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list. They take Mexican cuisine to new levels by relying on traditional ingredients like insects. Yes, insects. During our ten course tasting menu, my wife and I had ant larvae, agave worms, stink bugs, and grasshoppers. In some Mexican customs, the stink bug, jumil,  represents the souls of dead relatives so eating them while alive is a traditional custom. The stink bugs we ate were definitely dead and thank god for that! The restaurant was intimate — only eleven tables and eight counter seats — with muted colours that didn’t detract from the vibrantly coloured dishes.

    Cactus and vegetables at Quintonil

    Our experience at the 49th ranked Rosetta was less sublime and more factory line. Given its fame, people crowded the entrance. Located in a magnificent mansion in the Roma neighborhood, they were eager to get a table, any table. At our meal I had white mole and fermented carrots as a starter and cacahuazintle corn cappellaci and brown butter as a main. The food was outstanding but the portions so miniscule, I felt like emulating Oliver Twist, “Please sir, can I have some more?” My family and I decided to finish our meal at Churreria El Moro, with abundant crispy churros dipped in chocolate sauce.

    Rosetta restaurant mansion, Roma

    World’s Best Bars

    When it comes to the top 50 bars in the world, Mexico City has four of them. Our experience with two of the bars was like the restaurants, hit and miss. Handshake Speakeasy made it to Number 3 on the World’s 50 Best Bars list. Its staff stand in front of the office building where it’s located in the Colonia Juarez neighborhood, dealing with a crowd of those who have reservations and those who want to get them. My family and I and were led down stairs to a hidden entrance in the basement. Inside was a slick bar, with black sofas and shiny black surfaces on tables and counters. There was no bar counter. My son-in-law and I ordered the same drink, Salt and Pepper. Lost Explorer Espadin mezcal was combined with strawberry and Yellow Pepper Habanero. Both of us had the same puzzled expression on our face when tried it: we couldn’t taste nor feel the mezcal. My wife had better luck with the Matcha Dame Blanche which had Bombay Sapphire Gin with Matcha Tea, Greek Yogurt, and White Chocolate.

    Handshake Speakeasy

    My wife and I also visited the 7th top ranked bar in the world, Licoreria Limantour — a boisterous bar in the Roma neighborhood with an outrageously tasty mezcal cocktail flavored with pineapple and bitters.

    Licoreria Limantour

    Zesty street life

    But Mexico City isn’t all about fine art, fine dining and cocktails with recipes that would intimidate a PhD in chemistry. When my wife and I returned to our hotel after a couple of strong drinks at Licoreria Limantour we saw a large crowd of people dancing to a street band at the Alameda Park across from our hotel, Hilton Reforma. Some were great dancers, some weren’t. All of them were having an marvelous time. So with my hand out and my two left feet my wife and I took a twirl — terrible dancers having a terrific dance. That’s the real magic of Mexico City.

    Dancing at Alameda Park

    Where to stay:

    Hilton Reforma for downtown’s buzz. AirBnbs in trendy Roma, La Condesa and Polanco neightborhoods.

    Dining and bars:

    Mux for Mexican cuisine in Roma; La Catrina churros in Centro Historico; El Morro Churerria in Roma; Baltra Bar in La Condesa.

    El Morro Churreria

    Museums and art buying:

    Soumaya Museum, Polanco

    Soumaya Museum in Polanco. Buy art directly from artists at Jardin del Arte Sullivan on Sundays and San Angel Saturday Bazaar and Art Fair.

    Buying a painting at Jardin del Arte Sullivan

    Where to donate:

    Salvation Army has staff playing organ grinders throughout the city.

    Salvation Army organ grinder

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, April-May 2024

  • French Polynesia: A Perfect Paradise in an Imperfect World

    Moorea’s coastline

    In the Inuit languages of Canada, Alaska and Greenland there are some seventy words to describe ice and snow. There’s nowhere near that number to describe the captivating shades of blue in French Polynesia but perhaps there should be.

    Moorea’s bluest of blue lagoons

    Paradise found

    17th century poet John Milton wrote the poem Paradise Lost.  Clearly, he hadn’t visited French Polynesia. On a snorkeling trip off the island of Moorea I sailed across an immense, placid lagoon of iridescent blue. Waves crash in frustration against the reef that protect the island from the ocean’s occasional fury. That sense of a tropical sanctuary has led to this part of the world being called, with justification, a paradise. While French Polynesia faces the same challenges as other modern societies, it’s certainly a paradise in many ways.

    Mt. Tohivea Moorea

    For lunch, our guide set up a picnic table in the water where he and his wife serve an assortment of freshly prepared seafood and salads. Our small group isn’t alone though. Dining with us are stingrays who rub up against our legs and happily eat whatever we give them in a mouth that is, unusually, on the side of an eye.  That sense of harmony with nature persists with a swim later on with reef sharks and stingrays in deeper, crystalline water.

    Lunch in the water

    On the boat ride back to my hotel there is a sense of untouched nature in Moorea, a painterly palette created by malachite green peaks and valleys and the lagoon’s tranquil blues. No wonder Gauguin was inspired by this landscape.

    Friendly stingrays Moorea

    Moorea, an island of 14,000 spread over 134 square kilometers, is part of the Society Islands, named after the Royal Society, which sponsored Captain James Cook’s first expedition to the islands in 1769. It was only on his third expedition in 1777 that he visited Moorea and Cook’s Bay, now called Paopao Bay.

    Paopao Bay Moorea
    Mt. Tohivea and pineapple plantations Moorea

    Our exploration the following day of Moorea’s inland reveals isolated villages and pineapple plantations abutting ragged peaks, the most striking of which are the 900- meter Mount Rotui and 1,200-meter Mount Tohiea. Workers, bent over, pluck ripe pineapples from the soil. A craftsman in the village of Maharepa demonstrates a nose flute and I promptly buy it – although whenever I try to play it, I sneeze. At the hotel that evening Polynesian dancers perform ancient island dances accompanied by musicians playing traditional instruments, the tunes somehow in sync with the waves lapping the nearby beach.

    Polynesian dancers
    Playing a nose flute

    To return to Tahiti I take the almost hour long Aremiti ferry from Terevau village in Moorea to Papeete. 

    Mt. Rotui Moorea

    Territory’s capital fuses urban grit with colonial monuments and architecture

    French Polynesia, a territory of France since 1880, is spread over 121 islands that cover an area, including ocean, of 5.3 million square kilometers, about the size of Europe. The population, though, is only about 280,000 people. It’s 6,000 kilometers from Australia; 7,500 from Chile; and 15,700 kilometers from Paris. The fastest way to fly to Tahiti from France is via Los Angeles.

    Notre Dame cathedral Papeete

    Papeete, the capital, with a population of 137,000, has the only international airport. Despite its majestic South Seas location on the island of Tahiti, it drips with urban grit.  French and Polynesia cultures mix both easily as well as uneasily in the city. The Notre Dame Cathedral, built in 1875, has a tall spire that towers over the city. Inside is a woodcarving of a Madonna and child with Polynesian features with the child holding a breadfruit. Bright murals enliven the city while buildings and monuments project French colonial rule. The streets are largely devoid of pedestrians.

    At Place Tarahoi is the Assembly of French Polynesia, built in a style that pays homage to Polynesian architecture. The legislative arm of government, it has 57 members who are elected for 5 years. They, in turn, pass legislation and elect a President of French Polynesia for a four-year term.

    Assembly of French Polynesia

    Across from the Assembly is a monument to Pouvanaa a Oopa, a Tahitian politician who led the independence movement while he served in the Assembly from 1949 to 1958. He was imprisoned for eight years on an arson charge and spent a further fifteen in exile in France before being exonerated in 2018, 41 years after his death.

    Polynesia deity Papeete

    Just across from his monument are stone statues of Polynesian deities and the Residence of the High Commissioner of French Polynesia, the leading colonial official who is in charge of defence, foreign relations and justice.

    On the main artery of Avenue Pouvanaa a Oopa is a simple stone monument to Charles de Gaulle and the residence of the President of French Polynesia. The gingerbread-style building, surrounded by palms and lush tropical landscaping, was formerly the French military’s Broche Barracks before being converted in 2000. Across the avenue is the War Memorial, built in 1928, honouring the Tahitian soldiers who died fighting for France in World War I.

    Charles de Gualle monument Papeete

    Joie de Vivre in Papeete

    French bride and bridesmaids Papeete

    I stumbled upon a French bride and bridesmaids, bursting with energy, at the start of a big  night out before the wedding the following day.. Along the pleasant waterfront promenade is a towering Christmas tree made from coconuts and shells and a reproduction of a huge double-hulled canoe that ancient Tahitians used to explore and populate the South Pacific, including Hawaii. The harbour is jammed with yachts of the ultrarich. Along the sidewalks downtown are sellers of flower leis, a fragrant kaleidoscope of colours to wear around your neck. Elsewhere are sellers of leis made of shells.

    Leis made of shells

    For dinner, one of the best deals in French Polynesia are the roulettes at the Papeete wharf. These food trucks with outdoor tables sell huge plates of fresh fish and rice for $20 and plenty of other dishes. Both the massive cranes of the wharf and the mountains of Moorea are visible from where you eat. While the tourists love the roulettes, so do the locals. It gives me a chance to break away from the tourist path to experience the convivial warmth of Tahitians.

    Roulettes Papeete wharf

    Bucket List island that isn’t just a tick on a checklist

    While Papeete shows that the magnificence of nature in French Polynesia can be somewhat undercut by the ministrations of man, my last stop in the territory is perhaps its most famous destination: Bora Bora.

    Mt. Otemanu Bora Bora

    French Polynesia is known as a ridiculously expensive travel destination. There are ways around it everywhere but as far I could tell not in Bora Bora. It’s a bucket list destination and knows it.

    As I didn’t have time to take the seven hour ferry from Papeete to Bora Bora I took the 45 minute flight on an Air Tahiti ATR instead for around $400 round trip. At Bora Bora’s airport, a bag of Lay’s potato chips is about $9. A cheap hotel is easily more than $200 a night.

    Made famous in James Michener’s novel Tales of the South Pacific,  Bora Bora with a population of 10,000 is consistently rated as one of the top islands in the world to visit. During World War II,  Bora Bora was a US military supply base known as Operation Bobcat, complete with an airfield and coastal batteries. The airfield is now the airport and the coastal guns are scattered around the island. The 6,000 American soldiers stationed here never saw action, dated Polynesian women and no doubt worked on their suntans while most of their comrades were fighting in brutal battles. When they returned home they spoke of their experiences and word of mouth made Bora Bora a catchphrase for an island paradise.

    American coastal battery in front of Mt. Otemanu Bora Bora

    And it is. The 727-meter extinct volcano Mt. Otemanu at the center of the island has the shape of  a sabretooth tiger fang from some angles. The lagoon wraps around the island like blanket of blue. The airport is on the islet of Motu Mute and from there I took a ferry ride to the main town of Vaitape.

    Mt. Otemanu Bora Bora

    Not doing much is as much as you should do

    Polynesians chilling in Bora Bora

    Not doing much of anything is the whole point of visiting Bora Bora. I stroll on the boardwalks of hotels with overwater bungalows; gaze at a menagerie of fish while my feet sink into the silky sand; visit the celebrity restaurant hangout of Bloody Mary’s. No celebrities, but plenty of tourists drinking and dining there at inflated prices on the chance that they might see one. A wooden tiki with a red elongated tongue seems to be mocking them. Sunsets are spent stepping away from a chilled glass of Tahitian Hinano beer at the Bora Bora Beach Club and wading into the pristine blue waters of Matira Beach and waiting, just waiting patiently,  for the sun to set. Somehow that never gets boring or repetitive. If Bora Bora is a musical ensemble it would be a string quartet.

    Beer at Bora Bora Beach Club Matira Beach

    I realize by the end of my trip that unlike the Inuit peoples the Polynesians don’t need so many words to describe the overwhelming shades of blue that colour their seas and lands. After all, how can they invent so many words when the scenery leaves you speechless. French Polynesia is no perfect paradise but at times it comes close.

    Fishing boats Bora Bora

    How to get there:

    Air Tahiti Nui, a first rate airline, is the national carrier of French Polynesia. Its customer service staff are the friendliest and most helpful I’ve ever encountered.

    Places to stay:

    The hotels I stayed at are all excellent, though pricey. Hotel Maitai in Bora Bora is laid back and rustic with a great location near Matira Beach. Hotel Manava in Moorea is a polished French resort. Hotel Intercontinental in Tahiti has spectacular views of Moorea and its own lagoon.

    Places to eat:

    The roulettes at the Papeete wharf are affordable places to eat fresh food. Kaylakea Moz cafe in Moorea serves a huge portion of poisson cru for about $15. Bora Bora’s cafes serve pizzas and local fish at prices that don’t break the bank. Hotel restaurants are incredibly expensive. Unless you’re on a package tour it’s best to avoid them to stretch your dollars.

    Tours:

    Taxis and car rentals are very expensive. Tours are a more affordable way to see the sights. Moorea Seafari Cruises has an incredible full day snorkelling and boat tour. The captain is one of Tahiti’s leading singers.

    Currency:

    The currency is the French Pacific Franc. One USD is about 107 CFP.

    Bora Bora

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, August-September 2023

  • The Journey to Laos’ Plain of Mysteries

    Annamite Mountains

    The road to the Plain of Jars revealed ancient mysteries, recent horrors, and an uncertain future.

    The Gallic joie de vivre of Laos’ capital, Vientiane, was an out of sync start for our trip to the unknowable Plain of Jars. Anchored around Buddhist temples, colossal communist edifices, and elegant remnants of French colonial rule, the city was a mélange of the sometimes stylish, occasionally dour past, and a promising present built on tourism and foreign investment.

    Patuxai Vientiane

    Defined by the Vietnam War period

    Wat Sisaket, Vientiane

    Every city has its defining era. The Vietnam War period is the historical fulcrum for Vientiane. The 19th century certainly left its mark:  evocative Buddhist temples such as Wat Si Saket near the Presidential Palace, and the shimmering golden Pha That Luang, which is featured on Laotian money, sit beside colonial-era French villas, many of which are now hotels and restaurants.

    Pha That Luang

    But it’s during the Vietnam War where modern Laos got its stumbling start. The founders of the current government gained power then as the leaders of the Pathet Lao guerilla movement. The colossal Kaysone Phomvihane Memorial is devoted to the first prime minister who headed the Pathet Lao when it took over the country in 1975. The museum has an enormous monolithic statue of him out front and exhibits inside that include a mock-up of his childhood home and the cave where he operated from during the war. Nearby, a mid-century French villa with a lush garden was the home of the late President Souphanouvong, aka The Red Prince, who fled his royal life to co-lead the Pathet Lao. Both are close to the former CIA headquarters compound. The area is heavily guarded and closed to tourists.

    Monument at Kaysone Phomvihane Museum, Vientiane

    Laotian Har Paw Villa and Arc de Triomphe

    Buddha Park, Xieng Khouvan, is 20 kilometers from downtown. Started in 1958 by Luang Pu, a maverick monk, it is a physical representation of his religious philosophy where he had merged Buddhism and Hinduism. With over 200 concrete statues of Buddhist and Hindu figures it reminded me of a Laotian Haw Par Villa, a quirky perspective on religion, that educated as well as entertained.

    Buddha Park, Vientiane

    The Patuxai, Vientiane’s version of the Arc de Triomphe, was built in 1969 to commemorate those who died in pre-independence wars against the French. Concrete from the US that was meant to construct a new airport was used for the memorial. That was how it earned its sobriquet, “the vertical runway.” It straddles the Th Lan Xang boulevard that leads to the Presidential Palace near the Mekong River. You can take stairs to the top for a panoramic view of the city.

    A past that bites again and again

    Our last stop in Vientiane before heading north was COPE, a meaningful acronym that stands for Cooperative Orthotic and Prosthetic Enterprise. Sobering exhibits explained the prosthetics that they create for the victims of UXO (unexploded ordnance) from the Secret War in Laos. The Secret War was a theatre of the Vietnam War where the US supported the Royal Lao government against the Pathet Lao and attacked the Ho Chi Minh trail.

    Artificial limbs at COPE

    According to a Russian saying, “it is better to be slapped with the truth than kissed by a lie.” At COPE, I was slapped a lot. Laos was the most heavily bombed country in the world per capita in history. During the Secret War 580,000 bombing missions were flown by the US, working out to one every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day from 1964 to 1973. More than 2 million tons of ordnance were dropped. Cluster bombs containing 270 million bombies (tennis ball sized mini-bombs) were dropped on the country. 30% failed to detonate. Approximately 25% of villages in Laos have UXO. More than 20,000 people, 40% of them children, have been killed and wounded by UXO since the war’s end in 1975. The individual tragedies I read about were so wrenching I wanted to stop but couldn’t, I wanted to leave but stayed. One of the most heavily bombed areas was the Plain of Jars.

    Cluster bomb with bombies

    Listen to the rice grow

    The French had a saying during their colonization of Indochina. “The Vietnamese plant the rice; the Cambodians tend the rice; the Lao listen to it grow.”

    In a culture that considers avoiding stress a virtue, our driver of the Avis rental car was so chilled he could make a California surfer envious. He drove us north from Vientiane through landscape that transformed from flat rice paddies three hours later to the stunning karst formations that erupted around Vang Vieng. We stood on a shaky wooden pedestrian bridge over the Nam Song River and watched motorboats ferrying tourists and people in canoes navigating the currents with paddles. Looming behind them was the backdrop of mountains shaped like vertically stretched camel humps.  

    Dining on Nam Song River, Vang Vieng

    As we left Vang Vieng at dawn the next day we glimpsed the future. Half-built overpasses of a new China-financed highway were cutting into the landscape. Soon we were in the Annamite Mountains, shades of gold from the rising sun and green from the forest entrancing us as we imagined what creature a particular karst formation resembled. Along a road more coiled than a cobra the driver dodged potholes, oncoming cars and trucks and weaved around villagers going about their chores. He did it with elan and a smile that emulated Mona Lisa’s. At a mountain pass an evanescent cape of clouds was gently draped over peaks and ridges that stretched north to the borders of Vietnam and China.

    Southeast Asian Stonehenge

    Located 400 kilometers north of Vientiane in the province of Xieng Khouang, near the nondescript town of Phonsavan, the Plain of Jars has perplexed foreigners since the visit of Comte Francois Pierre de Barthelemy in 1896. The French archaeologist Madeleine Colani studied the various Jars’ sites from 1931 to 1933. Nothing is known about the civilization that created the Jars between 500 BC and 500 AD. The Jars’ range in size up to 3 meters in height and up to 14 tons in weight. How this early civilization transported these extremely heavy stone items from quarries kilometers away is still a mystery.  Because Madame Colani found bones in the Jars and a cave at Site 1 she believed the Jars were used for funerary purposes. Her hypothesis was that corpses were placed in the Jars and left to decompose until only the bones remained. Then the family collected the bones and buried them. She also believed the cave at Site 1 was used for cremation. But were the Jars originally used for funerary purposes? After all, the Plain of Jars is located on ancient trade routes. Did the Jars play a role in trade? In one legend, when King Kung Jeang defeated the tyrant, Chao Ankha, the people supposedly celebrated the victory by making the Jars and filling them with rice wine.

    Jars Site 1

    The Plain of Jars has been called a Southeast Asian Stonehenge because of the enduring mysteries surrounding the Jars. The unknowability of the who, what, and why of the Jars makes a journey here more of a pilgrimage than an Instagram moment.

    UNESCO World Heritage Site

    Modern Hmong, ancient Jar

    In July 2019, UNESCO made the Plain of Jars a World Heritage Site. The designation should protect the area and attract tourists who can help fund the Jars’ preservation and the opening of new sites. As one of the most heavily bombed areas during the Secret War, craters dot the landscape like smallpox scars. Bombies still need to be cleared from Jars’ sites that are currently closed. To visit the sites that are open you need to stay on clearly marked trails and scan the ground for barely visible bi-colored pieces of concrete. To stay safe, avoid the side that is painted red while remaining on the side that is painted white.

    Bomb craters, Plain of Jars

    Mysteries like a fog that won’t ever lift

    We visited three Jars’ sites. At Site 1, the largest, was a sign from the NGO Mines Advisory Group (MAG), stating that the area had been cleared of mines in a joint effort between UNESCO and the government of Laos. With that sobering thought we climbed a short hill. Huge stone Jars, the patina of time creating blemishes on their eroded surfaces, were scattered haphazardly around a large area. They were for the most part devoid of decoration. Hmong tribesmen, celebrating their new year in their finest clothes, resplendent with colorful sashes, headdresses and newly polished silver jewelry, picnicked underneath lonely gnarly trees. Bomb craters served as reminders of a recent violent past whose ghosts, in the form of unexploded bombies, haunt the soil of the surrounding countryside. Phukeng Mountain was the only elevated point on the flat horizon. Despite the groups of Hmong, an eery silence hung over the area that was punctuated by a light intermittent breeze, as if the funerary past of the Jars was a reminder to visitors that this was a place to pray, not play.

    Tree destroying a Jar

    At the top of the nearby cave where Madame Colani hypothesized that cremations took place were two anti-aircraft positions used during the Vietnam War by the Pathet Lao. The Jars were silent witnesses and survivors of the war, late 19th century Chinese raiders, and even the occasional careless, callous tourist.

    Hmong picnicking among Jars

    Hints of Angkor Wat

    Hmong at Plain of Jars

    At Site 2 we took a path to a heavily forested area where the Jars sheltered beneath the cover and protection of trees. As with the Angkor Wat temple of Ta Prohm, the trees surrounded and cracked open jars, a reminder that nature always has the last word.

    At the end of the day we visited Site 3. The area hadn’t been completely cleared of mines. The sign from MAG informed visitors how to see the Jars and return in one piece by referencing the markers in the ground: “White indicates the areas where sub-surface UXO clearance has occurred. Red indicates where UXO has only been removed from the surface. YOU ARE ADVISED TO STAY BETWEEN THE WHITE MARKERS.” 

    Tree embracing a Jar

    After crossing a rickety bridge, we followed the instructions, walking through muddy paddy fields to a patch of forest that shielded several dozen Jars. Speckled light from the declining day imbued the site with a mysterious aura, more Rousseau than reality. The Jars weight caused them to partially sink into the soil, obscuring their individual stories beneath a blanket of dirt and time.

    Jars at Site 2

    That night in Phonsavan we visited the Xieng Khoueng UXO Survivor Information Centre where we bought crafts made by UXO survivors. On the way to dinner afterwards we passed a guest house where artillery shells and bombs were displayed in glass cabinets and on the floor. Dozens of shells and bombs of all sizes. When I tried to take a photo, the guest house owner told me to go away. It left me with a feeling that a cult of death still permeated the area. It was my wish that it be replaced by a cult of life.

    Buddha that survived Vietnam War bombing raid
    Jars Site 2

    Travel Tips:

    -Dining:

    Doi Ka Noi restaurant’s Laotian cuisine was so good it’s practically worth a trip to Vientiane to eat here. Lemongrass stuffed with pork and herbs plus Luang Prabang river weed with tomato chili dip was as good as it sounds. The Blood Plum and Gin ice cream was an inspiring finish to the meal. Try Butterfly Tea, which turns from blue to purple with the squeeze of a lime. Although they participate in the slow food movement you will be tempted to eat fast here.

    Butterfly tea
    Street food, Vientiane

    -Places to stay:

    Booking.com was a great source of affordable and excellent places to stay. Our Vientiane hotel was the comfortable VKO Guest House near the Mekong River and the night market.

    -Rental car:

    We rented a car and booked an excellent driver from Avis.

    -What to buy:

    The Lao Textile Museum sells intricately designed textiles.  Crafts from COPE help fund their efforts. From Bombs to Beans from the Lone Buffalo Student Coffee Company is excellent coffee.

    Hmong celebrating New Year’s

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, February-March 2020

  • Easter Island’s Moai Stand Sentry Over a Land of Haunting Beauty and a Haunted Past

    Ahu Tongariki giants

    The first thing you notice about Easter Island’s moai, the iconic volcanic stone statues modeled after stern all seeing elders, is that they look inward. I was struck by that because they seem to stand sentry over the island and all the sentries that I have ever seen, in person, movies and artwork, always look outward. That’s because the threat is always from without. In the case of Easter Island, 2,075 kilometers from the nearest inhabited islands, Pitcairn, and one of the most isolated places on earth, there was no credible threat for centuries from the outside world. What ripped apart this remote outpost of humanity was tribal competition for scarce resources that led to grave civilization and moai toppling conflict. The wooden moai kavakava statues, with their emaciated bodies and visible ribcages, are an indication of this island’s traumatic past. What Easter Island’s moai seem to be telling us with silent, somewhat aloof gazes is that what ailed this idyllic land could be a harbinger for the rest of us. Literally, all of us.

    Sunset over Tahai moai

    Not Near Anywhere

    Moai at Playa Anakena

    A UNESCO World Heritage site, Easter Island, a part of Chile, is so far from anywhere else that you have to really, really want to visit to get here. Only Latam Airlines flies there, landing at a runway that was built to accommodate the Space Shuttle in case of an emergency. The five-hour 3,756 kilometer flight from Santiago is over water, only water, once it leaves South America’s coast. The tropical triangular shaped island one fifth the size of Singapore, 22 kilometers long by 11 kilometers wide, with inactive volcanoes anchoring its three corners, sits serenely in what seems like an endless undulating azure ocean. Black volcanic cliffs drift downwards to rocky coasts and the lone powdery white sand beach, Playa Anakena, where moai turn their backs on bathers. With a population of about 7,000 and just one town, Hanga Roa, hugging a small harbor of fishing boats and a swimming area where children frolic in clear water, it really is a get away from it all destination in the most extreme sense. Internet connections, when available, are weak and slow at best. Disconnecting from the rest of the world though unclutters your mind to try and connect the dots in this mystic, mysterious land that poses far more questions than there are answers.

    Moai near Hanga Roa

    Ruinous Conflict

    Known as Isla de Pascua among Chileans and Rapa Nui among the islanders, it was settled around the 5th century AD. No one is quite sure about the date though. Hotu Matu’a was the first leader of the Hanau Momoko people. Known as the “short ears,” they shared the island with the Hanau Eepe people, known as the “long ears.”  After centuries of peaceful coexistence where they created the immense moai that they transported to huge ahus, or altars, where they were worshipped, a war of existential annihilation took place sometime between the 16th and 18th centuries. Did it occur because the island had been had been stripped of its economically important forests? Or, were too many people squeezed onto too small a land to support their population? No one really knows although there are plenty of theories.  Moai were tipped onto their faces or backs, colossal rust-colored top knots known as pukao rolling away from the altars and sinking over time into the soil. Most of this conflict occurred before the arrival of the Europeans. It was known as the Huri Moai period.

    Fallen moai and pukao

    Dutch admiral Jacob Roggeveen named the island on Easter Sunday 1722 after landing there. Felipe Gonzalez de Haedo claimed it for Spain in 1770. In 1774 English Captain James Cook saw the similarities between Rapa Nui and the rest of Polynesia. He also reported on the toppled moai, damaged ahu and a people he felt were broken by a long, vicious conflict.

    Moai giant emerging from stone

    Birdman Cult

    Symbol of Birdman cult in the Catholic Church

    Cook observed that the moai, whose spiritual strength was derived from ancestor worship, had lost their power and were replaced by the Birdman cult. Every year at the cliff side settlement of Orongo, warriors climbed down a thousand foot drop and swam to a rocky outcrop called Moto Nui where they collected the first eggs of the season from the sooty tern. The first warrior to collect an egg then swim and climb back to Orongo was anointed the Birdman. He went into seclusion for a year and the tribe he came from was considered the most powerful during his reign. The annual egg collecting contest led to many deaths with warriors falling from cliffs or being attacked by sharks. In the early 1860s missionaries ended the cult.

    Orongo stone dwelling

    Today, the squat, elliptical-shaped stone dwellings of Orongo have been restored, clinging to the top of a wind whipped corner of the island’s largest volcano, Rano Kau. Petroglyphs of bird figures are on stones leading to the volcano and the obstacle course that the warriors had to traverse during the annual competition. The volcano’s crater is filled with murky water and tortora reeds, giving it a swampy look. It’s easy to see how this forbidding place imparted a sense of foreboding to those who didn’t participate in the annual competition. And those who did.

    Traditional Rapa Nui dwelling
    Rano Kai volcano

    The island’s tragic history continued after the ending of the Birdman cult with a raid by Peruvian slave traders in 1862 followed by a smallpox epidemic that reduced the population to only 111 by 1877. Chile annexed the island in 1888.

    Petroglyhs in Orongo

    Moai as Masters of Yesterday and Today

    Where the warriors collected the Sooty Tern’s eggs

    While the Birdman cult with its primary god of Makemake gave the islanders emotional and spiritual wings to escape from a war devastated land, it’s the moai that reminded them of their ancestry. And what went right. And what went wrong.

    Rana Raraku moai stuck in time

    While moai can be seen all over the island, the ahus and the statues that stand or lay on them are primarily found along the coast. Access to the sea was a source of power for the ruling classes. In the site of Papa Vaka, petroglyphs of sea life such as tuna and sharks, as well as fishhooks and canoes, indicate how important the sea was to the Rapa Nui people and why locating moai near it mattered.

    Those inward looking moai seemed to be supporting the temporal rules of their flesh and blood descendants. Their role was to visibly establish the ancestry of each tribe as well as to demonstrate the power and organizational skills of the tribe. Size equated with power.  After all, if you wanted to go to war with a tribe, how confident would you be if you knew those moai had their back and not yours? And moai are intimidating in size. The average statue is four meters high and weighs thirteen tons. And they’re made of one piece of stone. Their heads, noses, ears and arms are proportionally too large, at times elongated, making them seem appear even larger. The statues generally only show the torso.

    A site where the moai make you contemplate what really happened here is Ahu Tongariki, the island’s largest ahu, with fifteen imposing standing moai. They seem like a mini-army of not from this earth superheroes that dwarf you. Long, interlocking fingers etched into the stone at the bottom of the statues contribute to this otherworldly look. How could the civilization that produced this not exist anymore? Nearby, at the site of Te Pito Kura, is the largest moai ever moved. At nearly 80 tons and 10 meters in height with a pukao that weighs 12 tons, it was one of the last statues knocked down, which happened in the late 1830s. It lays face down in the ground as if it was pushed from behind.

    Rano Raraku moai

    South Seas’ Sphinxes

    From both Ahu Tongariki and Te Pito Kura you can see the quarry workshop of Rano Raraku. Strolling over the grassy slopes of the huge site with its dozens of moai displayed in a haphazard way is to experience the center of religious megalithism in Polynesia. It’s a surreal place where the artistry and ambition of the island’s ancient inhabitants left an indelible mark on the island and the world. Each moai communicates an opaque, inscrutable sense of authority like South Seas Sphinxes. Visible too are moai that were left unfinished as they were being brought to life from the rock face. The largest of these unfinished moai is 21 meters high and estimated to weigh 270 tons. What stopped it from being moved? Size? Or, war?

    And, of course, you can’t help asking the question that thousands before have: How did a low tech, small population of maybe 17,000 people move those colossal stone statues? Did they lay the statues on wooden sleds that were rolled on tree trunks? Is that why the moai backs are always straight and the island was stripped of its forests? Or did they “walk” them by moving each part of the statue bit by bit with ropes? The island isn’t flat which made getting them anywhere difficult no matter what technique they used. No one knows.

    Where the Island’s History Began

    After a day of visiting moai I ended up at the place where the island’s history began, the palm tree fringed beach where legendary founder Hanu Motu’a stepped ashore after a journey of thousands of miles over open ocean in a canoe. An ahu with five moai and another with one are at the edge of the beach, iridescent water lapping the shore behind them. Their presence conveys a haunting sense of the past that is ever present.

    As I soaked in the ocean I wondered what was next for this island. Tourism was bringing wealth but also tensions. An estimated 100,000 tourists visit every year, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you realize that’s 14 times the size of the population. For a small island with little land to dispose of waste and a need to import much of its food, tourism helps many people. But not all.

    Moai by Playa Anakena

    The moai, impervious to the tourists who gape at them, seem to know that when resources are limited everyone must learn to live together. Or else, apocalyptic warfare can erupt. That happened before on Easter Island. And on an earth with diminishing resources, increasing population and pollution, it may happen to the world at large. Maybe that’s the real reason the moai turn their backs on the world. They don’t want to witness what may happen next.

    It’s time to learn from Easter Island before it’s too late.

    Ahu Tongariki moai

    Travel Tips:

    Seaview Restaurants:

    As Easter Island is surrounded by ocean a great dining option is a meal with a seaview. Two restaurants that hit the spot are:

    Au Bout du Monde: elegantly prepared seafood.

    Restaurante Hani-Hani: a casual restaurant with innovative sushi and pizzas.

    Where to Stay:

    There are numerous good quality guest houses within the town of Hanga Roa. They are easily booked on Booking.com.

    Hanga Roa’s swimming area

    Permit:

    While Easter Island is part of Chile, the Latam Airlines flights depart from Santiago airport’s international terminal. You have to fill out a Unique Entry Form to the island either online prior to flying or at the airport. It’s part of a 2018 policy instituted to manage the number of visitors to the island for a more sustainable environment. In addition to the form a return ticket and a confirmed accommodation on the island is necessary.

    Forbidding Easter Island coastline

    Admission to the Parque Nacional Rapa Nui:

    You can purchase the ticket for the Parque Nacional Rapa Nui at the airport before you collect your bags. The ticket is USD80, good for ten days and gives you access to all of the sites on the island.

    Getting there:

    Only Latam Airlines flies to Easter Island from Santiago and Papeete, Tahiti. Some cruise ships also stop there.

    Anakena Beach
    Catholic church with decorated with petroglyph designs

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, April-May 2019

  • Sultry Havana Seduces the Present with its Storied Past

    Havana Cathedral

    The shimmering red coloured ’51 Chevy convertible roared away from the square in the Spanish colonial-era Parque Central, down the 1920s-era El Prado, sun glinting from its chrome, wind whipping through my hair, careened through the Castro-era harbor tunnel before coming to a belching halt in front of the 16th century fort known as El Morro. Founded in 1519, Havana is the youngest acting 500-hundred-year old I’ve ever met.

    The fort and its lighthouse, along with the Castillos de San Salvador and de la Fuerza on the opposite side of the harbour, guarded Havana for centuries before the 1762 British invasion. Spain signed away Florida to get Havana back and La Cabana fort was built from 1763 to 1774 to close the gap the British exploited to invade the city. It was the largest Spanish fortress in the Americas with the harbour facing wall stretching 700 meters and its area covering 10 hectares. Its size is intimidating.

    El Morro Fortress

    Half of my heart is in Havana

    In her song, Havana, Camila Cabello sings: “Half of my heart is in Havana.”  Stroll through Havana Vieja, a UNESCO heritage site, and yours will be too. Ages and musical styles collide: Buildings spanning Baroque, colonial and Art Deco eras, quartets practicing classical music at Convento de San Francisco, and choirs singing melodies in churches. Bands at bars and restaurants play Cuban favorites near 2019 Havana Biennial art pieces that interpret this storied city. Occasionally, throngs of cruise passengers flood the Plaza Vieja or Plaza Armas to glimpse what was once the New World’s most cosmopolitan metropolis. The palace the Museo de la Ciudad is in, completed in the 1770s, shows what the vast unequal wealth of the Spanish era looked like, while Havana Cathedral, finished in 1787, shows its intense religiosity.

    But the district is a work in progress. Decayed, even collapsing buildings, line many streets. At night, lack of street lighting juxtaposed with people escaping their too hot homes for the relative coolness of the squares gives the city a sultry yet somewhat sinister feel, an aura of expectation. Sepia toned light spilling from the buildings makes you feel like you are in another age.

    Many of Havana Vieja’s residents from previous centuries are buried in the gothic Necropolis Cristobal Colon in Vedado, huge mausoleums for the wealthiest families casting shadows that lengthen with the day. Its neo-Romanesque Capilla Central is where last respects are paid.

    Mausoleum at Necropolis Cristobal de Colon in Vedado

    Hemingway was here, here, even there

    American writer Ernest Hemingway was one of Havana’s most beloved figures. His home, now a museum in the suburb of San Francisco de Paula, has open windows and doors you look into to get a sense of his life. Shelves of books are everywhere, even next to the toilet. Heads of game animals line the walls in every room, so many you wonder if Hemingway was a little too proud of his prowess in the blood sport of hunting. To escape trespassing reporters in the ‘40s and ‘50s he built a tower for privacy so he could work. It provided a perch where he could contemplate Havana as a distant glittering Oz.

    A legendary drinker, Hemingway provided this endorsement: “My mojito in La Bodeguita. My daiquiri in El Floridita.” The result: Mobs of drinkers in both establishments every night. La Bodeguita claims to be the birthplace of the mojito. Numerous celebrities have left their autographs on the wall outside, protected under plastic. Everyone else just writes their name where they can, leaving a graffiti scrawl both outside and inside of the establishment. The upscale La Floridita, with a doorman outside, is a more dignified place to follow in the writer’s footsteps. A statue of Hemingway is in the corner looking across the bar. Down at the docks, down at the heels Dos Hermanos bar, founded in 1894, was also frequented by Hemingway as well as Marlon Brando and Errol Flynn.

    La Floridita for daiquiris

    Gaudi meets Chagall

    In a city so artfully constructed one artist stands out. In the Jaimanitas district Jose Fuster has turned his home and immediate neighborhood into a larger than life canvas for his art. With work that can be described as Chagall meets Gaudi, Fuster’s multi-hued house translates the Caribbean sun and vibrant Cuban spirit into fluid shapes that seem ready to embrace you. The 72-year old artist still lives here and sells his paintings in its gallery. I bought one of his vases.

    Jose Fuster house

    Stroll from soul to heart

    To get a feel of the city’s newer heart it’s best to stroll from the pulsing energy of the Vedado district’s Universidad de la Havana where students congregate under luxurious Ceiba trees down the steps past the seated, welcoming Alma Mater statue to the Hotel Nacional, former 1940s and 50s headquarters for the American mafia. Meyer Lansky and Lucky Luciano held court here. The towering art deco hotel, opened in 1930, and styled after Palm Beach’s the Breakers, is a place to pause for a Cuba Libre on the verandah while the tropical breeze washes over you. Winston Churchill, John Wayne and Frank Sinatra are among the many celebrities who may have sat here.

    Hotel Nacional

    Near the hotel, by the sea, is the memorial to the sinking of the USS Maine, when 238 American sailors lost their lives. The US blamed Spain for the sinking and started the Spanish-American war in 1898. At the war’s conclusion Cuba gained its independence and the US acquired the Philippines, Guam and the Mariana Islands as its first colonies.

    Monument to the victims of the USS Maine

    The Malecon, Havana’s seaside drive, is the natural congregation point for many residents with its opportunity to fish and alluring sea breezes making it a good place to gather and chat and just cool off. Since I was there during the Havana Biennial some of the provocative art displayed was definitely talked about. From the Malecon I headed up El Prado, the European style pedestrian promenade guarded by bronze lions and flanked by some of Havana’s most elegant buildings, including the Hotel Sevilla where I stayed. Al Capone and Josephine Baker were regulars. Graham Greene made it a setting for his book, Our Man in Havana. And yes, Hemingway was there too.

    On the other side of the Hotel Sevilla is the Museo de la Revolucion, previously the presidential palace. Completed in 1920, it was where the dictator Fulgencio Batista lived and Fidel Castro took power in December 1958. Tiffany’s decorated the interior. The museum provides the government perspective on Cuban history. Behind it is the leisure yacht Granma encased in a glass pavilion that is clouded by humidity. Castro and 81 compatriots sailed on the Granma from Mexico in December 1956 to start their revolution.

    Museo de la Revolucion

    From there it’s a short walk to Parque Central, Havana’s cultural and political center. The Bellas Artes museum and the Gran Teatro de la Alicia Alonso are on two sides of the square while nearby is the massive Capitolio, patterned after the US capital in Washington DC. Prowling the square are so many mint condition American Chevys, Chryslers and Buicks from the ‘50s and ‘60s, now taxis, you feel you have stepped into a time warp. Russian imports like the Lada and Mosvitch, trishaws, horse carts, motorcycles with and without sidecars and two-seater bubble shaped bici-taxis create a vehicular menagerie that barely hangs together on the city’s cobblestoned and pot holed streets.

    Bici Taxi

    Cuban cigars to cuisine

    At the Real Fabrica de Tabacos Partagas factory I saw the fine motor skills that go into the making of cigars from the selecting of the tobacco leaves to the very tight rolling of them. It’s tedious and repetitive work on hard benches. Now that the industry is owned by the government numerous brands are made at each tobacco factory in the country. I saw Cohiba, Romeo y Julietta and yes, Partagas cigars made there. I decided to smoke a Romeo y Julietta Churchill after the tour. Like all premium cigars, the ash was firm and didn’t drop off until there was more than an inch of it. The cigar was so potent I knew I needed a long lunch at La Guarida restaurant in Centro Havana to recover. I climbed past a decapitated statue at the start of a sweeping staircase until I reached the third floor of the dilapidated mansion where an artfully funky space overlooked a street in the throes of gentrification. The watermelon gazpacho with strawberry and shrimp was refreshing and removed the cigar taste. The freshly caught longfin tuna with sugarcane, coconut and seafood sauce was perfectly prepared. Cuban cuisine has definitely arrived.

    Entrance to La Guarida restaurant

    Music all day, all night

    Music and dance are an integral part of Cuban life. Children learn the intricate dance steps of danzon, mambo and chachacha that are second nature to them and completely alien to someone like myself.

    I visited the La Zorra El Cuervo Jazz Club, accessed speakeasy style through a British red telephone booth, and down steps to a basement space. The band, with a female vocalist, had a sassy energy that got people dancing at their chairs.

    The bar at La Zorra El Cuervo Jazz Club

    I watched the world-famous Buena Vista Social Club play on the top floor of a 19th century commercial building near the Capitolio. Singers strolled amongst the crowd as they sang Cuban favorites like Chan Chan and Candela.

    Buena Vista Social Club

    From Rum to Rumba

    Pre-Castro Havana was famous for nightclubs that started late and went all night. At the Hotel Nacional’s Parisen Cabaret dancers with flawless bodies wore outlandish headgear that could have been designed by Salvador Dali for an Aztec religious ceremony. If I told Freud that I had a dream with them in it he probably would have chomped hard on his Cuban cigar and clicked his fingers for an aide to bring a strait jacket. But I wasn’t dreaming this performance nor alone in gulping my mojito and asking for another. After the show, a dancer in a slinky red dress and sky-high stilettos navigated the steps from the stage to ask me to dance.

    Parisien Cabaret

    Fortified with plenty of rum, and despite two left feet, I was ready to rumba.

    And that’s how Havana works its magic. With half my heart in the city I know I have to return someday to reclaim it.

    Convento de San Francisco quartet

    Travel Tips:

    Restaurants:

    -Dona Eutima next to Plaza de la Catedral for the best traditional Cuban food. The Ropa Vieja, shredded beef, balanced flavors and textures perfectly. Reservations essential.

    -Jibaro near the Iglesia y Convento de Santa Clara for innovative Cuban food. Mashed plantains as a dip with fried plaintains to scoop it; shredded pork in a coconut sauce atop rice surrounded by a moat of black bean puree; for dessert, guava topped with cheese.

    Capitolio
    Ceiling Museo Bellas Artes
    Jose Marti Monument

    Places to Stay:

    -Hotel Sevilla, built in 1908, has huge rooms with high ceilings and a buffet breakfast on the 9th floor with unhindered 360-degree views of Havana.

    -There are numerous casas particulares, independent hotels, which have excellent accommodations.

    Gran Teatro de la Habana
    Edificio Bacardi
    Jose Fuster art

    Museums:

    -In a city filled with museums my favourites were: the Bellas Artes for paintings; Museo Napoleonico, with mementos from Napoleon, including his death mask, in a lavishly restored palace across from the Universidad de la Havana; Museo Hemingway; and, Museo de la Ciudad on Plaza Armas to experience an exquisitely restored Spanish palace.

    El Ojo del Ciclon gallery
    Even the towels have colour

    Bars:

    -El Dandy on Calle Brasil for a chilled vibe underneath a giant painting of El Dandy himself.

    -The rooftop terrace of Ingleterra Hotel for a sweeping view of Parque Central and Centro Havana.

    Currency:

    -Cuba has two currencies: the CUC$, used by foreigners; and pesos (MN$), used by locals. It is primarily a cash-dependent country so arrive with plenty of cash. US credit cards are not accepted here at all.

    What not to be worried about:

    -Before I went I read about the jineteros, touts. I didn’t find them that prevalent and when I declined politely to whatever they were selling they moved on. Havana struck me as safe. Just use the usual precautions.

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, June-July 2019

  • The Road to Myanmar’s Golden Heart

    I’ve been travelling to Myanmar since 1981 and it was quite unlike any procession I had ever seen: groups of men surrounding boys atop richly adorned horses and kept comfortable under the shade of golden parasols. The men, retainers more like, walked beside them in the baking March sun.  The boys wore lush embroidered silk outfits of pale pink or golden yellow, with headgear befitting a prince, while the men wore simple shirts and dark-patterned longyi.  Behind the boys were flower-bedecked horse carts carrying young girls under frilly parasols of pink, white, pale green. The procession stretched for hundreds of meters followed by a travelling band playing on a flatbed truck.

    BUDDHIST INITIATION RITES

    What my wife and I witnessed was part of the shinbyu, the initiation ceremony for monks that is a rite of passage for Buddhist boys in Myanmar. The first step is to re-enact the privileges of the Buddha as prince before he rejects the royal life in exchange for one of self-denial.

    Further down the road we saw boys who had already rejected their princely lives in favor of the simple existence of monks, their heads shaven, wearing plain brown robes and simple sandals, waving fans to cool themselves from the heat, temperatures above 30 C the day we saw them. Following them were dozens of girls in pale pink robes, carrying tin alms bowls, cloths draped over their heads to keep themselves cool.

    There were hundreds of boys and girls, all in a line, all along the road that stretched from the capital Yangon to the Golden Rock temple in the south of the country.

    The 210 kilometers from the traffic-clogged colonial-era city of Yangon to Golden Rock temple, also known as Kyaiktiyo Pagoda, is a journey to the golden heart of the country. Along the road I witnessed a microcosm of its spiritual side.

    HIGHEST PAGODA IN MYANMAR

    At Bago, the midway point, we visited the Shwemawdaw pagoda, the highest pagoda in Myanmar at 114 meters, higher even than the Shwedagon pagoda in Yangon. Also known as the Golden God pagoda it is over a thousand years old, and reportedly contains hair and tooth relics of the Buddha. The pagoda dominates Bago and the surrounding plains with its golden spire contrasting against an impossibly blue sky the day I saw it. A young monk struck an enormous bell with a large wooden stick. Worshippers spent time in contemplation near the pagoda, staying in the shade.

    Shwemawdaw Pagoda

    One of the challenges of visiting Myanmar temples is enjoying them while walking barefoot on ground that can sometimes be achingly hot. During the March April hot season we employed a strategy of lingering in the shade, and moving fast when not.

    As we left the pagoda via the covered walkway steps we saw iridescent green rice cakes for sale by a girl with a face thickly covered by thanaka, a yellowish sunscreen created by ground bark that looks somewhat like kabuki make-up.  There were hundreds of red bags of rice stacked on tables as donations to the temple. Just outside the pagoda I stopped by a woman with a cage of twittering sparrows. For less than a dollar, I bought three to release into the air. According to Buddhist belief, each bird you release earns you merit and symbolizes the letting go of your troubles. I’m not sure anyone’s troubles can so easily disappear but it did feel good letting the birds fly from my palms into freedom.

    SECOND LARGEST BUDDHA IN THE WORLD

    Nearby was the Shwethalyaung Buddha, which at a length of 55 meters and a height of 18 meters is the second largest Buddha in the world. Built in 994, its colossal size with an almost unreal serenity makes it a stop you want to spend time in. I wasn’t alone in feeling that way. Hundreds were there not just to look and move on but to stay and pray. Beneath the Buddha and along the temple’s wire enclosure were plaques with the names and amounts from donors all around the world.

    Shwethalyaung Buddha

    Before leaving Bago, we stopped at the 27 meter high Kyaik Pun pagoda, where four gargantuan Buddha images sat ramrod straight against a massive square-shaped brick pillar. The pagoda was reportedly built by King Migadippa of Bago in the 7th century and renovated by King Dhammazedi in 1476. However, a folk story has it that it was originally built by four sisters vowing to be single. But the youngest one broke her vow. The statue of that sister is on the southwest corner where monsoon winds and rain regularly lash it. With alabaster white skin, glinting gold robes set against the ochre and faded pink of the pillar the four Buddhas looked like sentinels and must have conveyed how powerful the Mon kingdom was at its apex.

    Kyaik Pun Pagoda

    LAST LEG TO GOLDEN ROCK

    To reach the Golden Rock temple we transferred at the town of Kim Pun from our van to a packed open-backed truck with seats in the back. For a little bit more you can ride up front with the driver. We decided to splurge! Each of the trucks had their own name. Ours was called Fuso Fighter.

    During the eleven-kilometer drive up on a steep, single lane road to an elevation of about 1,000 meters the drivers were quick to punch the accelerator or hit the brake! Lurching wildly from side to side I realized that having a bit of faith helped on this last leg of the journey.

    At the top, we felt the buzz of anticipation from pilgrims and monks. Young men with baskets offered to carry the pilgrims’ belongings. For those in very poor shape, four young men would carry the pilgrims themselves on makeshift sedan chairs, a concoction of cloth with bamboo poles. The people in those certainly seemed comfortable. Most pilgrims just joined the quiet crowd making their way to the pagoda. Monks walked in a line with their alms bowls.

    Along the kilometer long path shops sold everything from bottles of herbal concoctions to freshly cooked dishes to musical instruments to amulets to gold leaf to paste on the Golden Rock itself.  For a thin filament of gold it’s about a dollar fifty.

    THIRD MOST IMPORTANT BUDDHIST PILGRIMAGE SITE IN MYANMAR

    The pagoda itself is small, about 6 meters in height. It sits on top of an enormous gold-covered granite boulder that looks like it’s just about to tip over and roll down the mountain. But it doesn’t fall, even though it’s nearly halfway off the ledge it has been on for eons and is some eight meters in height and 611 tons in weight. Legend has it that a hermit kept strands of the Buddha’s hair and then when he was dying, looked for a suitable place to hide it. He saw the loose boulder, Golden Rock, and built the small stupa on top where the strands of hair are kept inside. The pagoda was built in 574 BC.

    It is the third most important Buddhist pilgrimage site in Myanmar, after Shwe Dagon pagoda and Mahamuni pagoda in Mandalay.

    The energy around the Golden Rock was palpable. Worshippers — and only men were allowed — pasted gold leaf at the base of the boulder.  Fragments frequently floated away on the breeze, catching the sun’s light as they did so. There was no fence or barrier of any kind between the base of the rock and a drop of easily ten meters. I asked our guide if anyone had ever fallen and she said no.  Yet, as men’s feet were literally inches from the ledge it certainly looked risky, even if you didn’t suffer from vertigo.

    I took steps down and soon I was looking up at the rock in more ways than one. The sense was that the rock was going to do something, take some action, yet it stayed absolutely still. It’s easy to understand why people are quickly mesmerized by it.  Some worshippers bowed to it. Others quietly put their hands together, closed their eyes and meditated. I watched as the sun set behind it, the valley glowing beneath it. Soon, the area was lit with hundreds of candles, casting a flickering glow on the Golden Rock that animated it, giving it a life of its own.

    Near the approach to the Golden Rock temple were numerous glass cases filled with bills, donations to the temple. Women sat and prayed under bare bulbs. Still further back people laid out mats and even set up tents, preparing to sleep there for the night so that they could worship at the Golden Rock at dawn.

    I had not seen this level of religious intensity in my previous visits to Myanmar. The Golden Rock temple struck me as truly Myanmar’s golden heart, combining electric engagement with worshippers with an unnerving stillness. It was both timeless and in step with the times.

    HOW TO GET HERE FROM YANGON

    From Yangon you can take a bus but I recommend renting a van and guide and taking your time.  Not only are there the temples in Bago but there is the Allied War Cemetery near Htauk Kyant where you can read the poignant epitaphs   families had engraved on their loved ones gravestones.

    If you go straight from Yangon — and happen to miss the city’s traffic — it will take between three to four hours to get there.

    CULINARY HEART TOO

    And of course, don’t miss the food. This part of Myanmar is its culinary heart too. Myanmar food takes hours to cook, bringing out the sometimes pungent flavours of the ingredients. At the roadside restaurants people would quickly eat dishes that had taken a morning to prepare. Among others, there’s mohinga, a rice noodle fish soup, stone pumpkin soup with chicken, and fermented bamboo shoot soup. It’s not a well-known cuisine so your chance to experience at its best is here.

    Mark Twain once said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.” As remote as it was, a visit to the Golden Rock temple was well the effort to get there. It wasn’t just a journey to Myanmar’s golden heart, but a glimpse into the spiritual heart of the nation.

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, October-November 2015

  • Mulu’s Many Mighty Wonders: the UNESCO World Heritage Area Impresses with Above and Below Ground Sites

    World’s Largest Canopy Walk at Gunung Mulu National Park

    The World’s Largest Canopy Walk

    I was staring at a green viper while perched some thirty meters above the jungle floor on a suspension bridge the width of two narrow planks of wood and with the stability of a trampoline that a five year old had just jumped on. Luckily, the viper didn’t stare back. My son, just behind me, hurriedly me along so he could have a stare too. At 480 metres, the Mulu Canopy Skywalk in the Gunung Mulu National Park is the longest tree-based walkway in the world. With its bouncy suspension bridges fastened to tropical hardwoods you experience sheer drops over the jungle floor and a snaking river while walking – bouncing more like – at the same level as the tree tops and the birdlife while in the occasional shadow of steep limestone cliffs. The day we went there was only me, my son and our guide — and all that jungle.

    I first visited the Malaysian state of Sarawak in Borneo in 1981. It was an island enveloped with mystique then, with mist-covered limitless jungle wrapped around isolated longhouse communities. I’ve been back to Borneo a number of times since then and watched cities grow, roads cut through dense rainforest and plantations expand. So imagine my delight when the MAS Wings flight flew low over a landscape of mist-covered rainforest and mountains before landing at Mulu’s tiny airport. I told my son, who at nineteen is just a few years younger than I was in 1981, that this was the way I remembered Borneo.

    PARK OF SUPERLATIVES

    Gunung Mulu is a 529 square kilometre park which was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Area in 2000. There’s only 160 in the world and two nature sites in Malaysia, the other one being Mt. Kinabalu. Mulu was selected because of its concentration of caves, river canyons, limestone pinnacles. It is a park of superlatives: the biggest limestone cave system in the world; the largest cave passage in the world; the largest underground river; the largest underground space in the world, Sarawak Chambers, where even St. Paul’s Cathedral can easily fit; a 180 million year old rainforest. The British naturalist and explorer Robin Hanbury-Tenison wrote of the area in his book “Mulu: The Rain Forest”: “all sense of time and direction is lost.”

    And yet it is relatively untouristed with approximately 12,000 tourists a year. When my son and I walked to the Deer Cave on the well-maintained jungle boardwalk it was just us, our Iban guide from the Marriott hotel and another hotel employee. We had the forest to ourselves. The Deer Cave loomed above us like a cathedral whose architect was nature itself. It is not only the world’s largest cave passage but has the world’s biggest cave mouth and is 220 meters at its highest point. Limestone cliffs opened up to reveal the majesty of the cave. The path through the cave – it’s 2.2 kilometres from one end to the other – allowed us to see the frequent pulsating dark patches on the ceiling, where an estimated 2 to 3 million Wrinkle-Lipped and Horseshoe bats hang upside during the day before flying out en masse at sunset. We also passed mini-mountains of guano. If you put your hand on the path’s rail it is soon covered in, well, guano. At the far end of the Deer Cave is the site known as The Garden of Eden, a sun dappled malachite green paradise encroaching on stony darkness.

    SUNSET BATS

    Outside the entrance of the cave we joined the rest of the tourists, maybe only fifty in total, to watch the sunset show. At about 5:30pm the bats started to fly out in spiralling flocks and for the next hour they kept on coming, floating up from the Deer Cave’s entrance like twisting DNA strands until they became black floating clouds. Bats make echolocation sounds to help them navigate. From the ground the sound of tens of thousands of bats creating that noise was like the low rumble of waves washing against a distant seashore, rhythmic yet hushed.

    Bats at sunset at Gunung Mulu National Park

    We stayed for an hour until it was dark and we were the last ones there. The walk back to the park entrance was never dull as the nocturnal creatures revealed themselves: a four-inch male walking stick piggybacking on a female walking stick that was easily double its size; frogs, fireflies, giant snails climbing up trees.

    AN IN-BETWEEN WONDER

    After a day that full we retreated to one of the in-between wonders, the new Marriott Hotel, which was designed to look like a series of native long houses on elevated walkways. It reminded me of the safari lodges in Africa. You may be in a remote place where you don’t expect comfort at all but the lodgings are surprisingly luxurious. And the hotel certainly spent a lot of effort to get it right: over USD16 million on renovating 101 rooms over three and a half years. Everything had to be shipped in.

    The next morning we took a long boat from the hotel’s pier down the Melinau River. As with the forest walk there was only my son and I and our guide and a boatman. We had the tranquil, cliff-and jungle-lined river to ourselves.

    ORIGINAL FOREST DWELLERS

    We stopped first at Batu Bangan, a Penan village. While the Penan were originally hunter and gatherers, only about 200 of them live that nomadic life now. The remaining 16,000 have been settled into villages. The Penan are noted for “molong”, the practice of not taking more than necessary.  The greatest violation in their society is “see hun”, which is “a failure to share.” They have no word for thief and six words for varying levels of “we.” And even though they have a word for every plant and animal in the forest, they have no word to describe the forest itself. They refer to the forest as “tongtana”, the only world they know. With our over-competitive, overconsuming society I felt we could learn a lot from them.

    WORLD’S LARGEST CAVE SYSTEM

    Further down the river, we walked along a narrow cliff clinging boardwalk from Cave of the Winds to Clearwater Cave where we were greeted by dozens of Rajah Brooke butterflies with their iridescent green and black wings. The final ascent from a tranquil pond was 200 steps but well worth the effort. In addition to having the world’s longest underground river at 170 kilometres – only 75 kilometres of which have been explored – the Clearwater Cave is known to be the largest interconnected cave system in the world. The crystalline water racing through the mountain was one of the highlights of the park. The bridge over the water was a great place for meditation or reflection.

    IMAGINATION RUNS WILD

    The stalagmites and stalactites at all of the caves create shapes that bring to mind all sorts of things. The most obvious was the Abraham Lincoln profile near the entrance of Deer Cave but there were wilder interpretations at some of the other caves. The King’s Chamber at the Cave of the Winds looked like a futuristic city from a sci-fi flick. The statue of the lady at the Clearwater Cave. The tropical forest at Lang’s Cave. The caves bring out the best of your imagination.

    Mouth of the Deer Cave at Gunung Mulu National Park

    ON THE WAY TO NOWHERE ELSE

    Getting to the park is something of a challenge. It’s right below Brunei and not on the way to anywhere else. The closest city to the park is Miri but you can also get there from Kuching and Kota Kinabalu on MAS Wings, the only airline that flies there. Of course, the difficulty of getting there means not fighting the crowds when you do get there.

    GREAT FOR FAMILIES…COUPLES TOO

    The park facilities from the museum to the boardwalk paths through the forest and the caves to the motion sensor lights in the caves were all first rate. I saw families with small children enjoying the park. The kids especially loved the bats and caves. Another park attraction is its internet connection — it’s very weak! Which means you may have to talk to the person you’re travelling with — whether it’s your family or significant other. Despite the ruggedness and remoteness of the park, the focus on safety is high. Guides are there to show you the fauna and flora and to make sure you’re safe from them — and of course that they’re safe from you. For the long unguided walks, you’re supposed to register with the park office.

    As a UNESCO World Heritage Area Mulu is one of the rare natural wonders of the world. Not as famous perhaps as some of the other sites such as the Grand Canyon, Mount Kilimanjaro, the Great Barrier Reef and Ayers Rock. But much more special because far fewer people visit it.  As Robin Hanbury-Tenison said: “There is nowhere in the world like the Mulu National Park.”

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, August-September 2015

  • Bangkok’s Serene Haven in Art-shopping Heaven: Drop After You Shop at the Plush Art-filled Anantara Siam Hotel

    Mural, Anantara Siam Hotel lobby

    Bangkok’s reputation as a shop till you drop destination is so well known it’s practically a meme. From Siam Paragon and Central World in Ratchadamri to Chatuchak weekend market to the newish Icon Siam on the Chao Praya river, listing them all would dwarf a Yellow Pages directory; visiting them all would be more tiring than sprinting up the side of the Grand Canyon.

    Inspiring art to inspire shopping for art

    What is less well known is that Bangkok is a destination for art lovers who love to shop for art. That shouldn’t be too surprising since Bangkok is a center of art from the traditional to contemporary. If art is your focus – and it is mine – then starting it from a hotel with expertly curated artwork gets your mind in the right space before deciding what will occupy a space in your home. The Anantara Siam, designed by leading Thai architect Dan Wongprasat, has a jaw dropping palatial lobby. The mural on the grand staircase landing of a traditional royal scene in hues of gold and red and the mandala painting on the sweeping ceiling by the late artist Arjarn Palboon Suwannakudt, gives the expansive space the feeling of a living, breathing palace that you want to linger in. And would certainly like to stay at.

    Artful champagne brunch fuels my search

    The Sunday champagne brunch to fuel my search for art was so rich – and enriching –  I almost called off the search. After the lobster thermidor, foie gras, fresh scallops, raw oysters, dessert bar and glass after glass of champagne I was feeling a little too comfortable to brave the rigors of art appreciation. But a cup of espresso finally got me off the all too comfortable dining room chair.

    Contemplate life while contemplating traditional art

    Armed with a Bangkok Art Map that I got from the Anantara Siam’s concierge I started my art shopping excursion at Suan Pakkad Palace on nearby Sri Ayutthaya Road. There was nothing to buy at this museum but plenty to inspire me. The palace, once the home of Prince Chumbhot of Nagara Svarga and his consort, features a collection of artwork and antiques in eight houses that are some of the best examples of traditional Thai architecture in the city. The murals, sculptures, and art you see while sliding in your socks across polished wooden floors started the process of deciding what would work best in my home. What I saw there gave me ideas as to what antiques I would like to get. And I know that one of the most renowned centers for antique shopping in Asia is The River City Bangkok mall on the Chao Praya River.

    Suan Phakkad Palace Museum

    Echoes of Frank Lloyd Wright

    My next stop was the Bangkok Art and Culture Center. It’s on the opposite end of the art spectrum from the Suan Pakkad Palace. An eight-story venue for contemporary art and shops selling hip crafts and gifts it attracts a crowd poked and provoked by its art. I went to the top floor to see the wonderful Royal Photo Exhibition, “Photos Wonderland,” and then worked my way down the spiral walkway that took me from one floor to the next for further art contemplation. It reminded me a bit of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim Museum in New York with its top down spiral walkway. One of the shops, BKK Graff, sells cans of spray paint so that you can graffiti a space. Hopefully, not your home.

    Art at Bangkok Art and Culture Center
    Art at Bangkok Art and Culture Center
    Art at Bangkok Art and Culture Center
    Bangkok Art and Culture Center

    Talked about art for your walls

    A short walk from the Anantara Siam are three galleries that are among Bangkok’s best for contemporary art. Le Link Gallery, Tonson Gallery, and Nova Contemporary all feature contemporary artists whose art can dominate a wall and become a talking piece for visitors. Or yourself. Displayed at the Le Link Gallery were the brightly coloured Magenta Blues Artwork by German artist Ingeborg Zu Schleswig-Holstein.

    Before returning to the hotel I had a drink at the nearby Smalls Bar, chockablock with art. It’s rated by CNN Travel as one of the top bars to visit in Bangkok. All the art displayed in the three-story quirky bar is for sale.

    From fine arts to culinary arts at The Spice Market

    After a day launched with a great meal it was time to end it with one. On the way into the hotel lobby I passed statues of water sprites surrounded by water lilies. Their presence is a reminder that you are entering a special world.

    The Anantara Siam’s The Spice Market is one of the finest Thai restaurants in Bangkok, helmed by award-winning Chef Warinthorn Sumrthlphon.

    The ambience of the restaurant puts you in the right mood to savor the food. With a polished teak wood décor, tables topped by Carrera marble, and cotton napkins and pillowcase coverings by Jim Thompson, it is a luxurious setting.

    And the food lives up to the décor. The ingredients are sourced locally to ensure freshness. The fruits and vegetables are all organic. The curry pastes are from the kitchen of M.L. Thor Kridakorn, whose recipes are so famous that they grace the dining table of the Royal Family.

    Some of the dishes I tried were the Tom Yam Goong, a spicy prawn soup perfectly flavoured with lemongrass; Larb Nua Pu Gab Goong Mae Nam Yam, crab meat salad and grilled river prawn; Pu Nim Phad Prig Thai Orn, crispy soft shell crab in peppercorn sauce; Kai Soe Rua Nua, northern style egg noodles in curry with chicken; and, Gaeng Kiew Warn Nua Toon Cab Roti, green curry with braised beef in coconut sauce.

    No amount of description can do them justice. More chamber music than symphony with their focused and nuanced flavours each dish was a distinctive delight. The meal was so filling I couldn’t tackle dessert, much as I wanted too. Next time I’ll pace myself better. I have my eye on the Tubtim Krob, the ruby water chestnuts.

    Only hotel in Thailand to offer sacred tattoo sessions

    Anantara Siam’s commitment to art is more than skin deep. It is the only hotel in Thailand to offer private sacred tattoo sessions by Bangkok’s most famous Sak Yant master, Ajarn Neng Onnut. He has inked Hong Kong star Alex Fong and Hollywood ones Ryan Philippe, Jessica Bradford, and Brooke Shields.

    As one of the world’s most ancient, sacred traditions, to master Sak Yant means learning how to do the artwork for almost a thousand different images. To become a master Ajarn Neng learned how to read and write ancient Khmer and Pali scripts and memorise unique prayers and secret spells, chants and mantras that relate to the sacred tattoos.

    His tattoo sessions at the Anantara Siam are private, either in a guest’s room or a private treatment room. The day before the tattoo he has a consultation with the guest where he learns about their life and goals before deciding on the correct Yant. Prior to the session and afterwards, Ajarn Neng performs a ceremony where the guest’s body and the art are blessed. That gives the wearer of the tattoo an emotional reminder of the experience that links the ink on their body to what it means to their life.

    Leaving an indelible mark in more ways than one

    A session with Ajarn Neng will leave an indelible mark on your spirit and your body. The Anantara Siam offers this unique experience so that you can get beneath the skin of Thailand for a richer appreciation of its culture.

    The same is true of a stay at the Anantara Siam hotel. The culinary art of its kitchens, the prompt, warm service, and the art that embraces you in visual splendor when you enter the hotel will also leave an indelible mark; the kind of indelible mark we all want to experience and take with us wherever we go.

    Water Sprite, Anantara Siam Hotel

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, February-March 2020

  • Balancing Breathless Bangkok’s Ying with Yang: At the Anantara Siam Even the Fighting Fish are Relaxed

    Anantara Siam Hotel Lobby

    Bangkok leaves you breathless. A pulsating, mega hive of frenetic activity, shopping is in malls wall to wall with branded goods and one of a kind items from one of the world’s most creative societies. Nightlife ranges from the pinnacle of high life in Sathorn and Thonglor — sky bars on rooftops to restaurants and clubs with sky high prices — to tawdry dens of iniquity that operate in dingy, neon lit alleys in Patpong and Soi Cowboy.

    All that activity can sometimes grate like a chainsaw tasting the bark of a tree before it’s cut down. Which is where Anantara Siam comes in. Just a few minutes’ walk from the Ratchprasong shopping district, it’s as tranquil as a posh private club in London. Its Thai design style from leading architect Dan Wongprasat gives you a sense of place and differentiates it from other hotels which have by the numbers luxury. More treat than retreat, you can take a breather here from this breathless city. From its palatial lobby, you view the soaring celling filled with mandala paintings from plush chairs you sink deeper and deeper into. The wall sized painting at the grand staircase’s landing by one of Thailand’s most famous painters, the late Arjarn Palboon Suwannakudt, is worth taking the stairs for to have a closer look. While he didn’t live to finish the work, his children, also artists, helped complete it as well the ceiling paintings in the lobby and mezzanine. It’s an enormous artistic achievement, 700 square meters of work.

    From “Well well” to wellness

    My wife and I had dinner at Anantara Siam’s Biscotti Restaurant, rated one of Bangkok’s best, according to Thailand Tatler and the Bangkok Restaurant Awards. It also received recognition from Michelin. I had a starter of creamy burrata cheese with tomatoes, ciabatta bread, basil dressing and shavings of truffles, while my wife had sea scallops, cream of buffalo mozzarella, cherry tomatoes confit and olives pate. Following our main courses of risotto black truffle with porcini, and grana Padano cheese and black ink angel hair pasta with king crab, prawns, and sundried tomato basil, we were stuffed. But we figured we would diet another day. Dessert was carmello spuma with layered dolce di latte foam, coffee granite, arabica crumbs and cocoa crackers and the Mascarpone Berry Salad with mixed berries, raspberry coulis, mascarpone cheese and pistachio sponge. The theatre of the dessert almost overwhelmed the taste. It was delivered to our table complete with trailing wisps of dry ice like something a sorcerer would prepare.

    “Well, well,” we thought. Not a meal we’d soon forget. Nor our scale. Just describing the meal was a mouthful.

    In the morning, we went from an indulgence ying to a wellness yang. We joined Anantara Siam’s new signature wellness program, “Morning Wellness at Siam.” It’s a program designed for travelers like my wife and I, who have come a long way, are a bit weary yet are eager to immerse ourselves in the culture of Bangkok. The program mirrors what for many Bangkokians, is an everyday routine.

     At 6am my wife and I were in the lobby providing alms to a monk on his early morning rounds. Anantara Siam is the only hotel in Bangkok which offers this unique local experience on a daily basis with staff who explain to guests how to appreciate and participate in this morning ritual. Our offerings were in pink and blue tiffin boxes. One box had curry, another an apple and Danish, a third fruits. Along with another hotel guest we did a Wai Pra, which is the appropriate way to bow to a monk to show respect. The chief concierge taught us: first, you place your palms together, then raise your hands in front of your face – your index finger tips must touch the hairline as your thumbs are placed between your eyebrows.  You need to bend the upper half of your body at an approximately 45-degree angle and bow for a couple of seconds before returning to your standing position. 

    Our alms, along with rice and bottles of water, were delivered direct to the temple the monk was from, Wat Pathum Wanaram Temple, between Siam Paragon and CentralWorld.

    From all twisted up to laid out flat

    The walk on Rajadamri Road to Lumpini park was a sensory feast, the crackling, chopping, cutting, dicing, slicing and munching of breakfast dishes being prepared and enjoyed at a food centre at the park’s edge. Like New York’s Central Park, Lumpini is the green, wellness lungs of the city with people trying to do right by their bodies. We passed a group doing tai chi to find our own spot at the lake’s edge. Two mats were laid down for us and a member of the hotel’s staff tried to teach us basic yoga. Our complete inability to execute the moves we were being taught certainly amused our instructor as well as a couple of monitor lizards who felt it was worth the climb from the water to have a stare at us.

    Once the yoga session was over it was our turn to feast. A huge, healthy spread was laid out for us on a picnic table overlooking the park’s lake. Cold pressed juices, prawns and salad with quinoa, cereal and milk — and handcrafted chocolates. Too much of a good thing, we simply couldn’t finish. It was a relief to have a tuk tuk carry us back to the hotel where we truly zoned out to a Chakra Crystal Balancing massage. In a room as chilled as they come our feet were bathed in a bowl of warm water. Like rare porcelain vases (which we’re far from being) we were gently lowered onto the massage tables, with our faces staring through to a bowl of petals floating in a water-filled brass urn. The masseuses surrounded us with rose quartz for our hearts, amethyst for our minds, tiger’s eye for harmonizing energy, and lapis lazuli for our throats. The throat is, apparently, a centre for spiritual energy. I’m not sure about the science of being surrounded by all of those stones but we were definitely beyond relaxed when it was over. And supposedly detoxed too. No small feat for a person like myself.

    In a single morning, we went from being spiritually centred to being all twisted up like pasta to being laid out flat on our stomachs then backs. We were knocked out — and Muay Thai star Tony Jaa wasn’t anywhere near us.

    Creativity flows by the river

    Energized, we continued our pursuit of Bangkok’s ying by visiting the Creative District.  It runs from Saphan Taksin BTS station along the Chao Phraya river to Chinatown. If you can handle the heat and humidity, it’s a great way to explore on foot what was once Bangkok’s commercial heart.

    The concierge at the Oriental Hotel gave us a map to the district. At the first stop, Assumption Cathedral, a Filipino priest was giving a Sunday sermon. Next to it, abutting the river, was the dilapidated East Asiatic headquarters building from the late 19th century. After strolling by the antique stores and boutiques of the plush OP Place past the modernist French embassy, we explored down a narrow alley to see the old Haroon Mosque with a silent green garden behind it. The pulsing intensity of Bangkok was an alternative universe, light years away.

    Bangkok meets Miami

    A little further on, down another narrow alley, we saw the 19th century Customs House, a once grand building now in disrepair overlooking the river. We walked past the imposing Grand Central Postal building. Built in art deco style in 1940 it had huge pinkish Garudas garlanded with yellow flowers at the top of the central facade. Legend has it that when the Allies bombed Bangkok in World War II, they took flight to protect the building. Soon we were at the Thai Artists Wall. The huge murals reminded me of Miami’s trendy Wynwood district, both in terms of the art and the galleries and cafes nearby. Warehouse 30 was a collection of local fashion boutiques, a café and a restaurant occupying World War II-era military storage buildings. It was founded a little over a year ago by Duangrit Bunnag, one of Thailand’s most famous architects. Given the heat and humidity it was an ideal place to press the pause button on our stroll and have a couple of glasses of ice coffee. My wife bought slippers there from the brand called Other Leathers.

    Mural on Thai Artists Wall
    Mural on Thai artists wall
    Thai artists wall

    Bangkok meets George Town meets Mad Max

    After Warehouse 30, we entered Talad Noi, a neighborhood whose architecture reminded me of George Town in Malaysia, where Pernankan meets European – but this time in a Thai setting. We stopped to see the towering spire of the cream-coloured Kalawar Church, completed during King Rama V’s reign. Down a zigzag of alleys we found Sol Heng Tai, a 200-year old Hokkien-Teochew mansion near the Chao Phraya, which serves drinks in a decidedly quirky environment. complete with a swimming pool that no one was using. Apparently, it is used for a scuba diving school. The 7th and 8th generations of the Posayajinda family still live here.

    We passed banyan spirit trees which sometimes had images of former Thai kings hanging from them, other times were festooned with multi-coloured ribbons. Shop after shop had immense piles of auto parts in front of them, making the area look like both a hoarders’ paradise and a back lot for a Mad Max movie.

    Soon we were in Chinatown, where the throbbing mania of the megalopolis returned, like a feverish dream. We chilled – literally – over a coffee and dessert at Chata Speciality Coffee, a café with creatively named brews and dainty cakes to complement them.

    The Siamese Fighting Fish aren’t in a Fighting Mood

    Statue of water sprite in front of Anantara Siam Hotel

    In front of the Anantara Siam is a statue of a water sprite blowing a conch shell atop water lilies – a harmonious greeting for our return. Our room overlooked the Royal Bangkok Sports Club. two panes of glass giving us the view without the street noise. On the desk, a Siamese Fighting Fish was swimming alone in a fishbowl without a care in the world. One of the world’s most aggressive species — agitation so much a part of its DNA that it immediately fights when it sees another fish — it was utterly at peace. The Anantara Siam was so tranquil even the Siamese Fighting fish doesn’t feel like fighting anymore. Now that’s the right kind of ying to balance Bangkok’s breathless yang.

    Royal Bangkok Sports Club

    Anantara Siam Hotel address:

    155 Rajadamri Road

    Bangkok 10330 Thailand

    http://www.anantara.com

    Published in Asian Journeys magazine, August-September 2018

  • Prince Jefri’s Xanadu: A Palace of Your Own at Brunei’s Empire Hotel

    The Empire, Brunei

    “In Xanadu, did Kublai Khan

    A stately pleasure-dome decree:

    Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

    Through caverns measureless to man

    Down to a sunless sea

    So twice five miles of fertile ground

    With walls and towers girdled round:

    And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

    Where blossomed many an incensed-bearing tree;

    And here were forests ancient as the hills,

    Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.”

    When Samuel Taylor Coleridge envisioned Kublai Khan’s palace in Xanadu he imagined a place of over-the-top luxury, of unimaginable wealth. We’ll probably never know if Prince Jefri, the Sultan of Brunei’s wayward younger brother, had this poem in mind when he dreamt up, then built the Empire Hotel and Country Club through the Amadeo Development Corporation. But he could have.

    Or maybe he was thinking of that Kevin Costner hit film, “Field of Dreams,” where Mr. Costner’s Iowa farmer character heard voices that said, “Build it and they will come.” In the film, ghosts from baseball’s past such as Shoeless Joe Jackson do come – to play baseball on the field the obsessed hero built against all odds.

    In Prince Jefri’s case, he has built his Xanadu but almost no one has come, giving the hotel a ghostly silence. Though maybe they should, as the Empire Hotel is a place of almost unparalleled splendor on the sunny north coast of Borneo. Imagine a hotel that combines the immensity of the huge Hawaiian resorts with the Arabic touches of the Omani and Dubai beach hotels with the luxury of posh London establishments with the wacky fantasy touches – and emptiness – of Hearst Castle.

    The domed lobby of Brunei’s Empire Hotel is supported by six-story-high Italian marble pillars crowned by Corinthian flourishes and trimmed with gold leaf. And that’s not gold-colored paint: that’s real gold. The gold leaf is used generously around the edges of the lobby’s walls as well as the ceilings, giving the whole massive open space a glittering look when the sun hits. In the lobby are generous displays of Baccarat crystal, including a crystal camel with a solid gold saddle. Not to mention the enormous crystal chandelier that hangs over the front entrance.

    The marble floors are inlaid with bright decorations of tropical flora. And there’s a huge mural of one of the sultan’s ancestors welcoming British ships of war at an earlier palace that was far less imposing than the hotel. Just so the vastness of the lobby – and not the empty retail area nearby – doesn’t overcome you, there are a couple of Fazioli player pianos endlessly tinkling out lonely tunes.

    The walk to the rooms is no less imposing, through bouncy thick-carpeted hallways surrounded by a forest of Italian marble pillars. The décor inside the rooms is lavish, with furniture and linen by Meritalia and prints of ancient maps of Borneo in gilded frames. The china and silverware in the guestrooms is all Asprey – as they are throughout the hotel. The bathroom is the size of a typical Hong Kong apartment, with toiletries from Molton Brown. (If you take a suite or villa you get Bulgari.) The plushness of the room might remind you of somewhere in Europe except when you open the drapes to see a huge balcony and further off the crashing waves of the South China Sea.

    To relax you have choices fit for, well, a prince – or a sultan. To get to the clubhouse you ride a golf cart that the staff called a “buggy” past an on-site waterfall and a lake. There’s an eight-lane bowling alley with stylish, aqua-colored furniture – no hard plastic chairs like nearly every bowling alley on earth. My family and I were the only ones playing with a staff of four to cater to our every need. At the club there are two badminton courts. And two squash courts. And a two-story pool and snooker hall. But one thing is missing: players.

    In case racket and stick sports aren’t your game, there’s a golf course and clubhouse with day and night golfing. And tennis. And a Jacuzzi and sauna. And row after row of unused polished wooden lockers in the men’s room, each one containing a fresh, folded terrycloth bathrobe, towel, razor, comb and toothbrush. And even though it is in the tropics, there is a heated indoor swimming pool with lanes on the bottom of the pool covered in gold tiles. Again, that’s real gold. When I used the pool and sauna I was the only one doing so. I never saw anyone using the rest of the facilities either. Friendly staff just hung around, waiting for someone, anyone, to show up and give them something to do.

    There are also the outdoor pools, four of them. The freeform one is the size of a lake with flooring covered in sand to give it that beach feel. There is also a school of stone sculpture dolphins swimming up a grassy hill towards the sea on the other side. My children loved those. They also loved the freeform pool – especially since we were usually the only ones using it.

    Stone dolphins at The Empire, Brunei

    At the Arabic-Mediterranean restaurant called “Falafel,” you can admire the world’s only titanium cutlery and dinnerware collection. The prince had it especially designed in the U.S. and produced in France at a cost of several million dollars. It’s the same metal that is used in fighter planes.

    After dinner, you can visit one of three cinemas on the hotel grounds. Again, the ghost town nature of the place has its advantages. Unlike other hotels, guests here are not limited to small-screen entertainment in private guestrooms because the empty theaters guarantee a big screen practically all to oneself.

    Nearby the hotel is Jerodong Park, another favorite project of the price. This is Disneyland and Coney Island wrapped into one, with everything from kiddy rides to roller coasters for the teenagers or the adults who don’t mind losing their dinner. (Strangely, the park doesn’t open until 5 pm, so your lunch will have been digested by then.) For a mere $3 my children could ride on all the rides they wanted – all night long until 2 am. But as with the hotel, the prince may have built but “they” didn’t come. As for lines, forget about those. My children were almost always the only ones on any of the rides, randomly selected. Whether it was the bumper cars, the merry-go-round or the flying swings, they were all empty. Same for the adult rides. It wasn’t exactly like being in a Twilight Zone episode, but at times the complete desertion of having one’s own private palace got close.

    Finally, not to be outdone, Prince Jefri’s Xanadu has a musical fountain. Near an imposing gate flanked by ancient cannons, there is an immense fountain with water sprouts that dance and sway to the music. Again, on the beautiful, starry night of our visit, my family and I were the only ones watching the spectacular light show. While it might have started off with the cheesy “Eye of the Tiger” it soon moved into hotter tunes. My favorites were those by Tina Turner. With the balmy breeze off the South China Sea and the sense of being in a kingdom – a real kingdom, not a fantastical Xanadu – where everything seemed to be done just for you, sometimes literally, the big, colorfully lit droplets hanging magically in mid-air suddenly made Brunei seem like a really cool place to be.

    Published in The Asian Wall Street Journal, June 21, 2002