Ok, I think my USB cord for my camera is shot, as it shocks me when ever I plug it into any computer, so the pictures will have to wait until I think of a workaround... (pictures below are from a friend, not mine)

Meanwhile, Hanoi happens to be experiencing some of the worst late monsoon season rains ever...

Yesterday I woke up early to go to the Ho Chi Minh Masouleum, only to find it was closed for the annual re-enbalming of Uncle Ho. Basically its Uncle H himself, despite his wished to be cremated, on display with 30 years of post morteum for the masses. Damn, too bad I missed it.

I settled on the near 1,000 year old Temple of Literature which was a stunningly beautiful old university grounds with massive displays of chinese architecture. But I had to get there first...My motobike taxi driver insisted on haggling me for 20 minutes over 5,000 dong ($0.20 USD) less than what he was asking for. I havent paid over 10,000 vnd for a ride to anywhere in the city yet, and I know I can just walk away from anyone trying to extort me, because 10,000 is already a significant tourist price. We get on our way in the pouring rain when we are suprised by several roads leading to the grounds in 3 feet of water. Sick of checking every road for more and more flooding (and already drenched) I tell him to drop me off and point me in the right direction. I take the plunge, pray that all my open wounds on my legs are significantly healed and head knee deep into the water. It takes a while to keep on the narrow sidewalk and I am the only westerner, only person in the water at some points so I take it slow. I pass a motorcycle repair man who I stop, smoke a tobacco pipe with and laugh at the cars and motobikes trying to cross chest deep water at full speed. Most fail, but some make it. It is two dudes smokin on a pipe, laughing at the car owning class, I feel blue collar and I like it.

Empathy sets in and I leave my post with tobacco motobike man and help a few youngins push a Ford SUV out of the water to the dry part of the street. The locals laugh at the white boy but they appreciate the help. The owner hops out of the car, clearly late for something and I pantomime that it would be a good idea to get the car out of the middle of the road. Driver agrees and opens the back door to reveil 5 passengers in the back which causes me to ask "Why the hell didnt you get them out when we were pushing?" and I know my question is repeated in Vietnamese by the surrounding locals. Driver gives the locals and I cash for the help, locals run off and invite me for Bia Hoi (local beer) but I decline when the taste of watered-down crappy homebrew is remembered in my mouth. That and its 10 a.m. Driver looks sad so I use the best of my extremely limited car knowledge and open the hood, dry and shake the air filter and tell him to wait till things are dry. Driver assumes I am a Ford mechanic and asks many questions in Vietnamese while I laugh, telling him in English that I don't own a car and if you saw the last one I did own, you wouldn't let me near your car within a 30 foot radius. I do my best, grandpa in the backseat thanks me and I am on my way. Nothing like chillin with the locals.

I walk in the rain for hours, checking out the sights - as it is much better than being stuck in my lonely hotel room. I count minutes until Ricky gets back or my swedish friend's flight gets in. I am bored and expecting more out of Halloween night than this - even in Hanoi. Finally my Swedish friend arrives but we go downstairs only to find that we are locked into the hotel. What happens when there is a fire?

So I am here, waiting and raining for that flight to Laos, in just a few hours...

Taylor

Rain and Rooster Testicles.

(trouble with uploading pictures and video... they will come later - be patient!) If the title didn't catch your interest enough, then you should stop reading now. I am in Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam enjoying an overcast day WITHOUT rain for the first time in a week or so. We had our fill of shopping in Hoi An, spent way too much and walked away with 14 lbs of gifts each to send back to the states. We had a brief stop in Hue during a 5 hour bus layover which consisted of me running back and forth between ticket agents trying to get a real ticket to Luang Prabang, Laos, my next stop after Hanoi. I finally got the sketchist ticket I have ever been suckered into (a piece of paper with a flight time and date on it, my name, and a official "paid" stamp, all in sloppy writing) and instructions to go to Hanoi to get the real ticket printed out at a "friend's" office. I am not usually caught by this kind of funny business, but the woman was very comforting and worked for a travel agency that we have been very pleased with. So I swallowed my fear, put a little trust in someone else and handed over 3,000,000 dong, expecting it to hurt later. Rain in Hue (oh a video!): Upon arrival to Hanoi, we found our $4 a night palace and I found the "friend's" ticket office, where I was promptly printed a real airline ticket (looks official, we will see), to my great relief. Again, sometimes you have to look someone in the eye and use your gut, not your mind to see if they are telling the truth - especially in less developed countries where you are at everyone's whim. There is a lack of this trust, most true in the states and I encourage everyone to have a little faith sometime in your fellow man and just go with it.... enough of the tirade - I am sure you want to know about the rooster balls. It took a few beers for strength. Ricky and I sat 5 stories up and drank Tiger and Hanoi beer until the tab got expensive ($3, ouch). In a easier mindset we started the search for Bao Khanh street, famous for its pigeon, frog, weird chicken pieces, deer, and yep, rooster testicles. It didnt take long to find, but we were a bit perplexed by the absence of anyone in the restaurant of our choosing. Unphased, buzzed and hungry, we marched up the stairs to find the best seat in the house, only to find guards, suitcases and seemly unwanted faces staring at us. With no words exchanged with the vietnamese mafia we took our seats at the second floor balcony and flipped through the menu. The verdict was reached in a few seconds, tofu with tomato, tofu in chili sauce and a shared portion of frogs legs and "Cock Testicles" (as said on the menu). Yummy. The tofu was not appealing, but we were more set on savoring those famed balls. We both took first bite and while the waiter was laughing at us, we were delighted to find that male chicken balls are not half bad. The garlic helps dwarf the pretty large size of the testicles, and the fried batter helps frog leg go down smooth. Beer helps as well. So next time you in Vietnam, try the cock balls. Taylor

Jungle Beach and all its pleasure

I rented a motorcycle for $3 a day and road happily out of the tourist trap of Nha Trang to the glorious beaches that awaited me 60 kms away. Ricky decided to stay with our hosts and get a cheap Open Water then Advanced SCUBA certification, which was pretty cool - but I just had to get away. Jungle Beach was my destination, a small resort about 10 years old started by a Canadian ex-pat who renounced "the -10 degree Celsius winters of Northern Canada about twenty years ago" and stumbled upon a sleepy fishing village twelve years ago accessible only by boat. The beautiful drive circumventing the mountains lining the coast on a newly paved road which was doubling as a Vietnamese movie set the day I was cruising it on moto (I found this out by being yelled at by Vietnamese police to slow down when I was hitting 85 km 10 feet away from the movie set). The picturesque view if this new, nice road reminded me of the better parts of the Pacific Coast Highway, but with the twist only Vietnam can bring. Fishing boats dot the shoreline, achored but waiting for the early morning to cash in on the sea's crop. An abandoned Russian beach complex, now deluxe squatter city, held the one of the best beaches I past and a romantic view from the road with limestone and green filled islands finishing up the horizon of the deep blue sea. I felt freshly alone and eager to get to a place like this, and the feeling was only intensified by a big road only shared by a movie crew and a teenage lovers cuddling on their motorbike, reveling in the view. One of the best things about Vietnam is once your out of a tourist town - you are OUT. Villages make up the rest of the country and it helps bring a charm like nothing else. After a blissful ride on My New Favorite Road, the adversity that is required to get anywhere worth it struck. Its name is Highway 1 and we met and faught again for 30 kms, just as I had done in days past while riding through the central highlands via motorbike. This hell highway takes no mercy with trucks barreling at you on both sides of the roads, cutthroat tour buses that show a near disdain for human life, leaving us, the proletariat class of the road, just trying to get to work, school, or private beaches (in my case) trembling in fear on our measly 125cc motorcycles and bicycles. I clinched to the side of the road, singing happy Minus the Bear rock songs to keep my focus and prayed that I would see the Hyundai port sign soon. After some self doubt and an excruciating 40 km, Hyundai-Vinashin road welcomed me off the highway and on to a rice paddy lined street, quiet and calm, light years away from Dante's worst nightmare. A twist and turn, a dirt road, a aforementioned sleepy fishing village (still sleeping at dusk) and I had arrived at the bamboo gated "Jungle Beach". Workers greeted me with a open gate, fresh lemon water, and the owner showed me a brisk walking tour he could do in his sleep from memory. The setting matched the movie - The Beach, but with a more realistic appeal. I set my things down, noted the hour I had before dinner and went directly to the beach. This beach was our beach, home to the 25 occupancy Jungle Beach guests with nothing but warm sand in a few kilometers in both directions. The beach was like a bay, but with out the funny smelling water Mui Ne had and twice the amount of untouched sand. The familiar limestone/plant mix of islands were directly off the coast, which swept with lush, lush mini mountains that created our cove reserved only for us. I ran full sprint into the water, crashed over a small wave and fell backwards, arms wide open looking to embrace the multi colored sky and the perfect temperature in the water. Bliss like this doesn't come like this every day. I swam, did some evening yoga, went for a run and then just sat and watched a mountain of a cloud billow up catching the last of sun's rays of purple, blue, orange, yellow and pink. I had made it. Made it to my spot that I hoped and hoped and hoped that Vietnam would deliver, and it was here in that moment that I laughed from deep in my heart at how ridiculously beautiful this place is. I headed back to the compound thinking about how relaxing this would be and how I could get back into good shape with the absence of alcohol, peaceful running everyday, a little adventuring to see the monkeys in the jungle and a yoga practice morning and evening. Then I met Beth. and Justin. and Meegan from NZ. And three wild canadians. and the couple from Australia. and the couple from Hong Kong. Plans changed after that. Dinner was excellent, as was most of the 3 meals a day included which were always on one long friendly community table at designated times a day. This table introduced me to my good friends who I would spent most of my hangovers with and go on several excursions with. After some light talk, drinking games commenced with the Canadians, Beth, Justin and Meegan and by 11:30 p.m. Justin and I were fighting to stay away and stupured back to our huts, more than ready to leave the party behind. We got into a rhythm- all of us - strong coffee and plans made in the morning (11am), lunch at noon (which we were usually still at the table from breakfast), adventures - waterfalls, beach lounging, swimming, a mock wedding (created after an argument whether a couple can or cannot get hitched at sea by a captain) where I was the captain/priest. The evening was filled with hours at the dinner table meeting new travelers like the Swedish doctors who joined the crew then drinks, games and the inevitable trip to the bonfire on the beach and night swim. OH! the night swim!!!! Our piece of the ocean was so undisturbed that every night we went to the ocean and watched as our arms and legs were coated with the brilliant luminescent light of tiny organisms in the water. Mix that with a night sky full of stars and clouds and you truly are in paradise. My friends and I didnt want to leave and I only made one trip back to Nha Trang to get a massage and more money from the ATM. It was one of the best two planned, but four nights stayed I had ever head and I am stoked to be travelling with one of my Swedish doctor friends in Lao in a week. Memories from those wild nights and silly days were awesome, awesome, awesome and the stories would take up too much of this web page to relay... So I road away, changed and more relaxed than when I came in, from my Jungle Beach leaving a little sadness in my bungalow home. Jungle Beach won't be this way forever, as the evil spectre of development is slowly creeping in with the contruction of a road around the coastline and a new, but vacant ritzy beach resort just a few hundred meters away from JB. For now and in my dreams forever, I will have this place - like that place I loved in Hawaii at the end of the Kaulalau Trail, when ever I need it in my mind. I raced back in the rain to Nha Trang, ate some chips and green tea, met Ricky who wondered where the hell I was, packed up and ran after the bus to Hoi An we were late for. An impressive display of a sprint (that I secretly wish I didn't perform, as I wanted to go back to Jungle Beach) saved us from another day in paradise (ricky made some great friends in his diving expeditions over the previous days while I was at JB). We boarded the bus with little boy sad faces and laid down with the assistance of prescription sleeping pills and arrived very shaken in Hoi An this morning. We will play shop til' you drop in this tailors' paradise and get some new digs to ship back then head to Ha Noi. The adventures will continue, but damn, Jungle Beach is going to be hard to top. I can't update pictures at this computer, but your imagination should try to get a little work out... hope my words can relay... HappyinHoiAn, Taylor

Arrival in Nha Trang

Like all good things, I didn't want it to end. 5 days on a motorcycle combing the Central Highlands region of Vietnam is something you don't want to take for granted, even though the steamy beaches and the beautiful sunset of Nha Trang, which lies directly in front of you, looks like a very welcome haven for your numb buttocks. The trip was a trip inside an adventure. First of all, I don't ride motorcycles. I have been on scooters and the occasional dirt bike before, but taking a trip across a whole region of a very different country with very different traffic rules (going the wrong way on the major highway is perfectly acceptable here, to give you an idea) is like dropping an indigenous south american tribe into Manhattan rush hour and giving them an Russian language map to navigate. With this said, luckily I have no rational thinking left in my head and a perfect ability to say 'Yes' to anything remotely risky but calculated and fun. That and we had a guide. A good guide. You met him briefly in my previous post; his name is River to remind you and we had known little about him at that point. Now, at the end of the trip, we are sad to loose such a wacky person, great english speaker, excellent vietnamese cultural teacher and supreme ladies man. Yup. We met just about all of his 34 girlfriends, mistresses, etc. etc. etc. A lesson in Vietnamese culture. Apparently he has been on these backroads a few times before. A few times. There is so much to say. Our days were filled with eating incredible, REAL vietnamese food, adjusted to the particular region for normally less than two dollars a meal. There was the sauteed goat, the picnic lunch of spring rolls, the endless pho (noodles) and com (rice) dishes with mystery meats we were glad to take part in. By the 2nd day, we were so enamered with the food that we ignored that part of our minds that asks the question "Where is the water that washed this lettuce" or internal inquires into when we saw anything resembling soap in the past few days. We didn't care, we didn't want to care, we were there, and that roasted duck and cheap beer being offered to us by drunk teenage boys hanging out by a waterfall never tasted so damn good. Don't even get me started on the coffee and sweet milk. Espresso Europeans have been getting it wrong the whole time. The food was just the fuel for the experiences. Those who have a motorcycle or done just a few hours in the active zen of motorcycling through beautiful landscapes know the trance. Its a beautiful connection, much like the bicycle, but a bit more intense as you must admire beauty all around you and dodge cows, potholes, other bikes, non working brake lights, and trucks determined to give you a Game Over. And the rain. It rains in Vietnam. It didnt rain too much on our little adventure, but it does rain the sideways rain acurately depicted in Forest Gump. We got wet, but $0.30 raincoats became our savior many times over. We rode on elephants through rice paddies and Lak lake. We talked with young villagers who had never seen a tourist. We swam in waterfalls that only a few Vietnamese had been lucky enough to see. I sang "When a Man Loves a Woman" and "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" in a karoke bar in the middle of the day while sipping on green tea (it was the only two english song they had - ok?). We played pool with the Vietnamese mafia in Da Lat. We did a lot in a little amount of time. I also met a young girl in a coffee shack yesterday... The rain was coming down with a vengance so we decided to take refuge in a small coffee shack that River had been talking up the whole trip. There we were introduced to this gorgeus 16 year old girl who was very soft in her actions and very inquisitive about these white guys on motorcycles. After nonsence pen and pad drawings, finally our guide, River, aiding in translation, she told me about how she cannot go to university because she is too poor and must take care of her older brother and younger sister who are both mentally retarded from the American Agent Orange which was dropped nearby her home. I met her younger sister and the realities of destructive war were seen first hand. But that was the thing, no one was sad. The 16 year old girl wasn't the least bit sad or mad, but intrigued by the fact that I had come from so far away. The vietnamese dont hold grudges, even for such atrocities as chemical warfare. The sister was so beautiful, so content with a constant smile on her face and a giggle in her voice while I played with her. It was an amazing experience that makes me glad to be on this earth, to see the neverending display of compassion, and encouragement to further peace in myself and society. Now we are in Nha Trang to spend a little beach vacation to rest up for further travels. I am planning on going to a secluded hippesqe resort called Jungle Beach tomorrow while Ricky stays and gets his open water SCUBA certification, only to reunite Thursday for diving and a meet up with Natasha and Daf who so graciously hosted us on Ho Chi Minh City. OK OK OK, I will make my best attempt to upload my awesome self on a motorbike as soon as possible. beach time - Taylor

majestic mountains and motorcycle madness

I could go into a lengthy description of sitting under the full moon in Mui Ne, Vietnam. I could just type the words I scribbled to represent the feelings, the air, the touch, the soft sounds and the sight of myself smiling on the beach. But I won't. Id rather tell you about the decision and aftermath of taking the plunge off the tourist trail and riding motorcycles to the Central Highlands of Vietnam. Upon arrival to Mui Ne, fate decided that I needed to check my email. I walked into the crowded internet cafe and sat next to a genteman who had just helped a lost german lady find a taxi, using impressive English. After helping me figure out how to use a computer in Vietnamese, the kind gentleman, named River, told me to check out his motorcycle tour guiding business, based just down the street. After a great banana/pinapple/chocolate pancake, 7up and a few shots of Rice/Honey wine, River engulfed Ricky and I in stories about other travellers ready to see the real Vietnam through backroads travel and an accomplished tour guide. Sold by the first few words, we drooled over pictures of raging waterfalls, minority villiagers, repeating blue mountains, giant red sand dunes and all in between. We were set, and he even threw in an extra day to tag along with some fell Holland travellers to a buddist pagoda accessable only be cable car. By the time I set my eyes on the giant buddha made of stone and in a laying down position, I knew this was a perfect choice to spend my next few days and way better than taking the bus to Nha Trang where we are to meet up with our hosts in HCMC and new couchsurfing friends. Today we started the full fledged trip from Mui Ne and arrived in Da Lat this afternoon with stories of sliding down massive white sand dunes (that one would think would be better situated in Saudi Arabia than near the coast of Mui Ne), motorcycle near misses (Sorry Mom), eating incredible food for $1.50 (which contained meat with some kind of fingernail I bit into - but was amazingly good), talking to locals about their mushroom farming and being in constant awe as we rode into the green hills that are backed up by numerous blue waves of distant ascents eagerly waiting for us to show their treasures. Many may think we are crazy, and while wedging between an 18 wheeler and a pothole the size of Nebraska on my 125cc motorcycle using all its full throttle might, I would have to agree. But if its worth a little bit of uncomfortability, its definitely an adventure... pictures and more from the ridiculously weary roads of Central vietnam to come! Tee "Easy Rider" Pee

(street bike shop in Saigon. Reminds me of the early days of The Bike Cave. Ive been there brother, ive been there)

(old vespas, not ours)

You know your getting used to Vietnam when you don't clutch the seat of the motorbike you are sitting on anymore. Instead you lift your arms with abandon, sit comfortably on the seat and just take in the overstimulation and you are thank for that you are not navigating for once. You look around, with the wind in your hair, thank the nighttime for the absence of the sun's beating heat, smile at the family of four on a motorcycle half the size of the one you are on. You wonder what the quiet motorbike driver in front of you thinks of you - the 23 white male foreigner - and hope he has change for the 100,000 vietnamese dong in your pocket. You understand the lady you saw yesterday reading a book on her motorbike while waiting in rush hour traffic. The perplexity and fear of the worlds most insane traffic jam turns into just another night in Ho Chi Minh.

(myself and My at french designed central post office)

Upon arriving in this crazy, crazy, no... really, crazy city, the usual fear/excitement mix of the unknown was in full effect especially when meeting up with My, our couchsurfing friend that was helping us to adjust to HCMC. Within an hour after landing, Ricky and I were doing what we internally vowed to never do - renting motorbikes in the worst place to rent motorbikes. A Lonely Planet described it quite well "The quickest way to see the city, and the quickest way to the hospital". Why common sense didn't kick in when were in the taxi on the way to rent them? Was it the excitement? Was it the lack of sleep? I dont think any of these explanations fit - and I dont think any explanation will ever fit.

(thought your rush hour was bad?)

The traffic is absolute chaos. It makes Mexico City traffic look like a safe Disneyland. Its just stupid. Its millions of people, billions of motorcycles, a couple of cars, a lot of delivery trucks and just madness.

But it works.

Its a disaster but a well tuned orchestra at the same time - minus the director. It takes an instinct that we dont use in the States too often. The instinct of a fighter without hesitation. Accelerate, brake, accelerate, pedestrian, motorbikemotorbikemotorbikemotorbikemotorbike, roundabout, motorbike with 3 people going directly at you, swerve, outofplace Mercedes, cop - look other way, motorbike, speed bump, bridge, where is Ricky?, there he is, duck - there is a 9 foot pole jetting out of that bicycle, is this the right turn? accelerate, brake. (all in 5 seconds). Its really actually pretty fun. Sorry mom.

(temple outside of HCMC)

The days have been exhausting. Visiting temples (vietnamese religion is mix of buddism, confucianism, taoism = very interesting), eating local food, seeing American/Vietnam war relics (I don't really see the appeal - its a horrible thing on both sides, yet they are the biggest tourist attractions here), drinking dodgy juice with local ice in it, meeting tons of new friends and going to Oktoberfest. Yea, Oktoberfest in Vietnam. An awakening in globalization.

(post traditional meal, cost = $1)

I could type a good bit about Oktoberfest but its pretty blurry after a point and I want to save some stories for in person. Basically it was a whole 5 star hotel floor packed with German expats, vietnamese businessmen, and our entourage of couchsurfing friends from all over with all you can drink german beer and food. And dancing. And chanting vietnamese/german drinking chants on tables with the said vietnamese businessmen - at least I think we were singing chants in vietnamese, could of been russian, not sure. Anyways....

(other Seattle couchsurfers/now friends at oktoberfest with Ricky and I)

We will break our addiction to Saigon stimulation soon, pay our $6 a day motorbike rental fee, and head to Muy Ne, a quiet beach town 4 hours away. Otherwise we would probably get jobs teaching English and end up staying months here - we have met quite a few who fell into the trap - which wouldnt be that bad.

TP

Sitting in Singapore

This is increasingly becoming a game of Where in the World Is Taylor Powell... Well to answer that, I am at Changi Airport in Singapore waiting on a flight to Ho Chi Minh City departing in about an hour. I "slept" 3 of the 4 hours from Darwin, Australia to here, but now I am wide awake. Maybe its the delirium, maybe its the excitement, (its probably the delirium, I shouldn't be typing at a computer) but just the general atmosphere of hearing all flights departing to Asian cities - Ghangzhou, China; Bangkok, Thailand; Manila, Indonesia - is enough to make my head spin and give me that stupid gleeful smile on my face while walking down the terminal. The Ho Chi Minh Couchsurfing community is hosting me the first few days Ricky and I are here and I am extremely thankful. My hosts and friends are already going out of their way to have me and they may even pick us up from the airport. It makes me fall in love with Couchsurfing all over again and remember how many wonderful people there are in the world. I encourage the great karma and experience that comes with it - if you haven't checked it out, go to couchsurfing.com! OK, just a few thoughts of positivity and sleeplessness from abroad. I am sure I will have a bit more interesting stories in a few short hours. Love from the last remaining City-State, Taylor

picture time

updated Cairns post with new pictures.

also:

New Zealand Snowboarding/Skiing-

This is a part of Upolo Cay on the Great Barrier Reef. We took a sailing trip yesterday (10/5/08) to snorkel and then used a small raft to come up on this 10x10 patch of sand in the middle of the ocean! Like a mini island!

Fly to Darwin tomorrow, then Ho Chi Minh City the next day!

Goodbye Aussie accents and Western world!

Taylor

Cairns, Australia

G'day Mate, I am passing time in a hostel on the outskirts of Cairns, Australia while the rain pitterpatters down the palm trees and lush tropical environment. Having just listened to some great ambient/downtempo music on my Ipod while reading up on Vietnam, I am relaxed and wondering what I am going to do today, that would be better than yesterday. Cairns is kind of a party town and with the whole of the country's young population on Fall Break, the downtown nightlife is more remenesent of my trips to Acapulco in high school. For example, I was sitting in a bar with Halen and Ricky last night, listening to throbbing yesterday's techno, sipping on the $1 special and I swear I was on Sixth Street at Danny's home away from home, Treasure Island. It even smelled like it. Its fun to dapple with the locals and tourists in a light hearted atmosphere, but its time to switch things up a little - I didnt travel across the world to do the same things I wouldn't want to do back home... But the past few days have been different. After an excruseating 17 hours in the airport waiting for our Auckland, NZ to Cairns, Australia flight (which would have been longer, less my great negotiating skills to Air New Zealand telephone operators), we arrived in sunny, 85 degree-filled Cairns and smiled while shedding our jeans and coats for the hopefully perpetual bathing suit. We checked in, looked at the town, made some reservations and took naps before going and checking out the nightlife a little. We met people here and there but it all seemed too much of the same, and the next day we went out thirsty for adventure. Therefore we rented scooters.

My affinity for 2 wheeled cycle type vehicles made me smile the whole time we road the outskirts of Cairns on our rad little orange scooters. We found a dirt bike park on accident, and decided to jump the dirt jumps with our 50cc's of pure power. This would most likely void any kind of rental agreement we hastily signed, but it was so worth it - my crying laughing at Halen doing 30 kph over a 2 foot gap was enough to justify it. I even broke the kickstand on mine on my last jump and then laid it down, unhurt, unphased and histerically laughing, none the less.

We got back out, asked some nice lady where to go, then found Crystal Cascades - a river/waterfall/multiple pool area where we took a dip and stayed away from the dangerous stinging trees. Beautiful.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to dive the Great Barrier Reef 3 times and it was an experience to remember. In addition to meeting new friends from Brasil and Sydney (the reason I went out list night - the new friends from Sydney). Colors of coral, bountiful fish and excellent diving conditions made me super happy and super content to overlook the party atmosphere of this nice little touristy outpost of Australia. Again, I never thought I would dive something like the Great Barrier Reef - shows what you can do with your life and your will and your priorities (its not all about the money!). A few more days in Cairns then we say goodbye to Australia, the Western world, and Halen as he heads home. October 9th will be a long day full of travel (Cairns to Darwin, Australia - Darwin to Singapore, Singapore to Ho Chi Minh City). We will couchsurf with a nice lady in HCMC then start going to the beautiful lands of Vietnam! I am so excited. Put another shrimp on the barbee! Taylor