Trip Diary

The Trip Diary

Sunday, 21 August, 1994

San Francisco - We're off! Departure was 2:40 out of Philadelphia, and it was a direct flight all the way across. It was beautiful scenery, especially west of the Great Lakes, where the clouds thinned out considerably. I'd never been west of Omaha, Nebraska, and we drove there, so the bird's eye view of the plains and then the foothills of the Rockies were very impressive. The Rockies themselves were blocked out by clouds, but then came the Sierra Nevada mountains & Yosemite, which were gorgeous. The smoke from wildfires could be seen in the distance, to the north. Coming in for landing over the bay was cool; parasailors could be seen flashing along below, and I believe I saw a seal at the surface.

Guy met us at the airport and drove us to his house. We drove right over the Stanford Linear Accelerator . . . Wow. We barbecued for dinner and relaxed in the Jacuzzi. Later we planned out our expedition up the coast, at least sort of. We'll see. It has begun.

Monday, 22 August, 1994

Manchester Beach State Park - We started driving up the coast today. After picking up an application at Stanford we headed into San Francisco, went to the Australian embassy, and found out we didn't have my passport. Whoops. Turned out Papa left it at Guy's house, on the desk in the loft we stayed in. No matter, Guy's going to drop it off tomorrow. Then we went out to lunch with Guy down by Fisherman's Wharf, saw the Sea Lions.

We headed out of San Francisco over the Golden Gate Bridge and then drove up route one. I caught my first glimpse of the Pacific while we were driving through the hills. It is gorgeous out here; I still dream of living here when I grow up, just like Papa & Alex do. The fog was pretty intense along most of the way, and there was one spot where we looked down upon a sea of clouds, covering the coast like a blanket, then fading to reveal bright blue waters crashing against grey rocks, spouting white foam. It was so beautiful. I love how the hills dive straight down to the ocean, so theat the water smashes at cliffs, and how one can go from bright sunshine and blue sparkling sea to dark shade underneath the cover of pine trees in an instant. Wow.

Thursday, 25 August, 1994

Big Basin State Park - Tonight we're camping with Guy, Mindy, Becky & Tristan. We've been playing Hearts, and I just shot the moon by accident. He-he-he.

Tuesday we drove up the coast, eventually making it a good 50 miles or so into Oregon, to a place called Gold Beach. The reason we made it that far was that we couldn't find a campground with a space open. We turned around at Gold Beach and drove back south until we found a secluded alley by the coast, and there we slept in the car. That's why I didn't write - we wanted to turn the lights out quick so that we would not be in danger of getting a parking ticket. The same happened the following night - we found a KOA at around 8:30, but the cost was $19.50. We didn't like that, so we slept in the car, behind a few trees, at the base of the 2-3 mile KOA driveway. Same thing - lights out quick.

We did have an excellent dinner last night - if you're ever in Willits, CA, check out a place called "Tsunami". Excellent seafood, vegetables, rice, Sarsparilla. That's what I had. Other than dinner, yesterday was kind of on the boring side, just driving back on the freeway, rather than the scenic route. This morning was the same, as we covered the last 150 miles or so.

Actually, towards the end of that car ride I was getting more than a little irritated at Papa. I suppose traveling and living with a person takes some getting used to. However, I think a lot of people would start to become irritated after 900 miles in 3 days, a sleeping father who snored loudly, a distinct odor due to lack of showering, and an itchiness due to insect bites and other things. Anyway.

One nice thing we did yesterday was hiking at Patrick's Point State Park. We ate cantaloupe while watching rock climbers do a hundred foot sheer rise of a rock on the beach, then climbed up the maybe 40 degree slant of another rock further down to get a good look at the Pacific. Some of the waves slammed into it so hard they sent spray up to where we were, 50-60 feet above. On our way back up I found a path I don't think had been used in years - it was overgrown enough.

Friday, 26 August, 1994

We went for an 8 mile hike today - I gave Tristan a piggy-back ride for the very last stretch and still beat the rest of the crowd by 2-3 minutes. My mosquito-death-kill count rose to 23, but they got me back pretty good. I'm itchin'. Anyway, we drove back after the hike, and spent an uneventful evening here. Papa beat me something like 408-210 in scrabble, with a monster 93 pt. "Fizzles". Tonight, we sleep on the couch. Oh, such luxury.
P.S. - I've got 13 bites. I win by 10!!

Saturday, 27 August, 1994

I have a second wound on my right foot. The big toe no longer hurts, but I've got a nickel sized blister on the ball of the big toe. Burst. Ouch. Played basketball for two hours wearing sandals. Dumb.

Elsewhere, I wrote about a page of the first Caltech essay. Called home, talked to Dawn, Mama, & Zack. Oh, yeah . . . we visited Stanford this morning. Seems like ages ago. The campus was very nice, though school not being in session, one couldn't really get an idea of what the students were like. I'd say it's dug itself a nice little niche - it may very well beat out USC as school number four.

We went out for dinner at a place called "Benehanas" or something. Japanese cuisine, prepared in front of your eyes, at the table, by the chef. He was very entertaining with knife and prong and spatula, dicing, stalking, flipping the food to perfection. The food itself was excellent, including the Calamari. It came free, due to a delay caused by the waiter not remembering to turn the table-stovetop on. Good stuff!
P.S. - last two entries from Guy's residence in Los Altos.

Monday, 29 August, 1994

Air New Zealand flight #57, LAX-HON - Harvey Mudd, USC, & Caltech with Brigitte today. We got in to LAX late last night and stayed up till past midnight talking with Brigitte's family. They're all really nice people, all Unitarians, and very experienced travellers. Anyway, we woke up at 7:30 and drove away toward HMC.

Harvey Mudd, I am sad to say, was not very impressive. The beginning was very nice. I was interviewed by the Dean of Admissions, who was very personable. The first question she asked was "So, when does school start?"

"January," said I. That started us on my trip, and it turned out she had been to Australia & New Zealand. So that was nice. But then, the tour . . . it was terrible. Especially the tour guide, who had a hideous smile he couldn't wipe off his face and seemed like a total dweeb. It might be because today was freshman orientation, but it just kind of gave the impression of a high school atmosphere. I don't know - it didn't seem that bad at the time, it's just that as Papa said, it paled in comparison to Caltech.

Caltech was all I was waiting for, a college that just completely blew me away. Wow. First of all, the tour guide was female, knowledgable, and personable. Presentation wise, she was orders of magnitude better than the guy at HMC. And Caltech simply was a first class place, in every way. The campus was beautiful, the facilities looked excelllent, everything that was described sounded ideal. It's definitely a school with an ego, but it deserves it. The information session after the tour was, well, very informative. And I'm not being sarcastic. The guy was able to answer a lot of questions pertaining to the admissions process and the characteristics of life at Caltech. He said that extra recomendations were helpful, that research was taken into account, and that even the entire research paper would be a good idea. An example of the kind of attitude Caltech exuded was what he said about the research - it was not impressive to them that you put in hours in a lab, but that you truly understood what you were researching, showed creativity, and were self-motivated to do the research. Anyway, I'm tired, and we're finally about to take off. Addios, North America!

Wednesday, 31 August, 1994

"The Southernmost Vegan Cafe in Hawaii" - Yesterday was one of the most incredible of my life. We went to Volcanos National Park and in the evening we drove to where the most recent lava flow from Kiluea is moving into the ocean. From a distance of a few miles steam could be seen billowing from a point on the coast. We stopped at the side of the road and parked about 2000 feet or so from the flow. At first, all that could be seen was a slight reddish glow at a few points among the rocks, but as we waited and watched a few cracks of bright orange-red light burst out, and gradually the intensity of activity picked up to the point where it appeared that small waterfalls of molten lava were falling into the sea, and sometimes bits of glowing rock could be seen being tossed up into the air by the surf. Around the point, to the left, clouds of steam 10 times the size of those rising from the visible molten lava poured forth into the sky. A while later, after it got dark, the activity seemed to pick up out of our view, and a couple of times fountains of lava and soot flew up into view.

We decided to get a better look, and walked down the road in search of a path. We found one, and followed it for a while until it dissapeared under recent lava flow. From then on, it was adlibbing over lava which cracked and slid around under our feet. Some places there were cracks, where the newly formed rock had split apart. As we got closer, the temperature rose from the cool of the evening to oven-like 90-100 degree heat. The point we finally reached was the top of a large pile of loose rocks, no more than 100 feet from glowing, orange-hot lava. At one close point I could see a two-three foot high waterfall of lava, and I could see its slow movement by the individual flecks of solid, dark lava mixed into it. To our left there was a 5-6 foot long crack glowing brightly, which Papa took a picture of. To the right, there was a patch of ground which looked like quicksand of a sort, spots of red lighting the surface from below. We had our fill in about 15 seconds, and then we turned around and got the hell out of there. It was pretty scary, even though the edge was relatively calm while we were there. Whew!

Earlier yesterday we hiked about 4 miles around and through Kilauea Iki crater. We thought that was very impressive at the time. It reminded me of what I think of Mars as looking like, what with the black lava plane and the lava slide made up of reddish dust.

Today has been yet another extraordinary adventure, but I'm too exhausted to write of it now. Tomorrow I shall catch up with myself.

Saturday, 2 September, 1994

New Zealand - That was a long flight, over 8 hours from Honalulu to Aukland. We got in somewhere around 2:30, and somewhat to my dismay rented a car. I thought I'd had quite enough of cars, being closed in. We met a couple at the airport who were just starting out on a trip around the world themselves, but they were taking a year. Married a year after 15 years of yuppydom, and off to see the world. We talked with them until we parted on the shuttlebus at the car-rental place.

We drove out of Auckland and up the coast a little ways, until we found this campground with hot-spring pools and a beach. It's a nice ride, through hills and fields, and this time of year at least, a certain wonderful aroma of springtime.

Now to catch up a bit: Wednesday we went snorkling at Captain Cook Monument on the west coast of Hawaii. We rented a Kayack, at $20, to cross the bay to the monument, which is adjacent to a National Fish Preserve, or somesuch thing. As soon as we went in, we were surrounded by a school of 6-8 inch-long, black fish. Swimming along over coral of many types, I saw innumberable fish of varying color and physique. Parrot Fish, Puffer Fish, hundreds of others. The peak of the experience came when a manta ray approached as close as 10 ft. before turning to glide away underwater. That was earily beautiful.

Thursday our main thing was a hike down into the (?) Valley and back out. The journey was hard, but the valley and the beach were beautiful. Horses roamed freely at the bottom, and would come to you looking for sugar. We took naps in the shade before heading back up. Papa says next time 'round he wants to camp in the valley for about a week, it was so beautiful. Later on we saw Akaka Falls, which was nice, if not extraordianary in comparison to other things we've been doing. Know what? I'm cold. Very Cold. Sleeping Bag time.

Sunday, 4 September, 1994

Mangonui, N.Z. - Today was Papa's 40th birthday. As he pointed out, I'm the only person in the world who witnessed him turning 40, that he knew. To everyone else who knows him, he must still be 39, then. Such rubbish.

Travelwise, today was nothing too extraordinary. We spent a good deal of time just driving thorough beautiful countryside, working our way North. This evening we found the inn where I sit right now, and ate a wonderful dinner. We got into a very interesting conversation, and if you are one of my children I will tell you about it someday. If you're me, you most probably remember it. And for the rest of you, it's probably not what you think it is. Have you ever tried to tell the door to open, have you ever eaten a rack of lamb, does the world exist, and do you remember what wine tastes like? Cheers! as they say here.

Monday, 5 September, 1994

Paihia, N.Z. - Yet another basically low profile day today, travelwise. We rented mountain bikes thismorning, and biked 22 Km, 11 in and 11 out. That's about 14 miles, which is about two and a half times the farthest I'd biked before at one shot. We rode along the coast of Doubtless Bay, from Mangonui to past Paipo. That was a lot of fun and a heck of a workout for me.

In the afternoon we just lazily drove back towards here, for the dolphin- swimming trip tomorrow. The countryside really is stunning up here, rolling hills that seem to go forever. Goodnight.

Tuesday, 6 September, 1994

Coromandel, N.Z. - If July is equivalent to January when south of the equator, then September is like March. Water tends to be cold, round March. Quite cold. Yet today I fearlessly jumped into the ocean, and was rewarded for my remarkable lack of common sense by a 4-5 second encounter with a small group of common dolphins, as they swam by about 20 feet below me.

Afterwards, I was rewarded with about an hour of shivering and huddling down in my coat, thoroughly frozen. Nevermind that, the trip was well worth the money I paid for it. The brief swim with the common dolphins was actually not the best part of it. Near the beginning we found a pod of 7-8 Bottlenose Dolphins, with at least 2 very small babies in the bunch. That was spectacular. They swam all 'round the boat, grey bodies flashing by beneath clear water, then surfacing, jumping, diving again. The mothers and their young were wise enough to avoid close contact with the boat, but the sight of them at a distance of 10-20 meters was an absoloute joy. The babies couldn't have been more than 4-5 feet long, and they swam in perfect sync with their mothers.

It was a kind of dream come true for me. Ever since reading A Ring of Endless Light, by Madeliene L'engle, and I suppose even before then, I've been enchanted with the idea of dolphin intelligence and human-dolphin communication. I'd seen bottlenose before, at the Baltimore Aquarium, but seeing them in the wild was completely different. Dolphin intelligence is still an open question, but then one might say so is human intelligence - in any case, I can't believe any sort of relationship as equals could ever work with one party in captivity. They are so beautiful in the wild, I dream of swimming as a dolphin, not just with one.

Wednesday, 7 September, 1994

Fletcher Bay, N.Z. - Sitting here listening to R.E.M. - Whoops, time to eat . . . Now hours later, and Van Morrison is on. Tonight's been fun, despite the rain and cold outside. All 14 or so of us have been playing "Bandu" and backgammon and enjoying ourselves. Very pleasant atmosphere here, and a diverse group. 2 of us Americans, 3 Germans, 2 Brits, at least a few Kiwis, etc.

We didn't do much travelling per-say today. We did the laundry in the morning, then drove here through the rain. I read one and a half books, though . . . the end of Their Eyes Were Watching God and all of The Einstien Intersection. Been feeling kind of beat, tired out, and almost ill. Hope it doesn't amount to anything . . . I've been taking lots of vitamin-C as a precaution. Tut-tut.

Thursday, 8 September, 1994

This is a new experience; I'm sitting inside and I can see my breath. We're staying in a rented Caravan for the night, right on the beach. I'm wearing thermal underwear, regular underwear, 2 pairs of wool socks, pants, a t-shirt, a flannel shirt, and a winter coat, and I'm still cold.

Our day started out wet and never really dried up. Papa started it by falling in up to the chest in the stream at Fletcher's Bay. Fortunately, he saved the camera bag, but it still kept us from leaving until around 11:30. Our next plan was to climb Mt. Moehau, a 4-6 hour tramp. A few cows, a few sheep, two stream crossings and about an hour and a half later we decided we'd had enough. It was raining, cold, and very windy. Papa estimated gust of 40-50 m.p.h.

After that tramp we drove all the way over here, on the east coast of the Coromandel penninsula, at Hot Water Beach. There are hot springs so close to the ocean that if you dig a hole in the sand at low tide it will fill up with a nice, hot bath. We just took the indoor version, as the tide was high when we arrived. Ya know what? It's bleepin' cold in here!

Friday, 9 September, 1994

Christchurch, N.Z. - Miles, attempting to write while on a bumpy bus. Actually right now we're picking up the mail. We're taking the all-night bus from Christchurch to Queenstown, at $40 apeice. Cheap.

Today was not real exciting. This morning we drove in to Auckland, around 3:30 we took off, and we landed here around 5:00. Finally, no car!!

Saturday, 10 September, 1994

102 meters, or 340 ft. That's how far up I jumped from today. From a pipeline bridge. With only a long bungy cord between me and the hereafter. One of the most incredible, and almost definitely one of the most insane things I've ever done and ever hope to do.

I was cool as a cucumber watching Papa go off first, watching two more people go, getting all strapped up. Then I walked out on the platform, and looked down . . . and down, and down. I was still cool. They started their countdown, "Five, Vour, Tree, Two . . ." Around Two I bent my knees, and at that point my brain finnaly figured out what was about to happen. It wasn't quick enough to stop me, as I lept out over nothing but air. I panicked completely for about 2/10 of a second, and then I was fine again, for the rest of the ride down. It was completely free fall for a couple of seconds, before the bungy cord began decelerating me. But those two seconds . . .

Happy 40th, Papa. May your next forty be even better than the last. Love you.

Monday, 12 September, 1994

Yesterday we tramped for 6 hours from Elfin Bay Wharf to the Mid-Greenstone hut. The last half an hour or so we spent walking through a stiff wind and rain, and at the very end it changed to snow. This morning there's a nice white covering over everything.

We started the day by taking a bus from Queenstown to Glenorchy, and then a boat from Glenorchy to Elfin Bay. Papa says I aught to mention the driver & skipper's dog, Pest. We had to stop for 45 minutes or so after the bus ride while the driver prepared the boat, and we played with Pest, who was a real scoundrel. Quite a leaper, as soon as you'ld pick up a stick to throw, he'd jump up and try to snatch it out of your hand. Then he came for the boat ride and lept from side to side, looking like he was going overboard every few minutes. My writing is very sloppy because my hand is about numb.

After our 12-13 kilometer walk (they don't post distances, only times,) we trudged up to the hut expecting it cold and empty. What a good feeling it was to see a human being in the doorway, opening the door to a warm hut and a fire in the stove! There were 6 people in ahead of us, 4 Israeli guys, whose names I never learned, and a Kiwi couple, Sheree and Roy. Actually, Sheree was born in Sydney and only recently became a Kiwi. Anyway, they were a very friendly couple, and we stayed up late sitting around the stove and talking. Time to get going on today's tramp - another 6 hours, supposedly.

Tuesday, 13 September, 1994

Te Anau, N.Z. - We're out, and hitching back to Queenstown. Yesterday we hiked from Mid-Greenstone hut to McKellar hut, a "6 hour" hike that took us 7:45. The snow wasn't too deep - a couple of inches at most - and most of the day's tramp was enjoyable. My feet stayed dry almost the whole day, but Papa wasn't so lucky, and was bemoaning his squidgy feet all day.

All told, the whole tramp was somewhere around 50 Km, and we were carrying between 30 and 50 pounds each. It was very tiring, definitely pushing the edge physically for both of us. My upper thighs were aching 20 minutes into the tramp and haven't really let up yet. It got to my back a little bit, as well as my calves, shoulders, buttocks, feet . . . everything, basically.

We finally made it to McKellar around 5:45, and started cookin'. Problem was, the coal heating stove was putting out enough smoke to be a health hazard, and our gas canisters for the cooker were burning low. Oh, and we had no candles. So we ate our freeze dried dinners in the dark, and made two-minute noodles with some brocoli, onion, & carrot. We dried our boots on the stove and left the door and 5 windows open for ventilation. And we slept, warm as toast, in thermals, three layers of socks, and mummy bags.

Today we woke up to rain. From 12:27 to 6:30 a.m., our time, my fellow students back at Central were enjoying their first day of school. Wouldn't trade places with 'em for anything.

The snow was deeper in places today, probably 8-10 inches. The worst part was a flood plain we had to cross that was just bog, for half a mile or so. We stopped at the Howden hut for lunch, and then to the Divide.

Wednesday, 14 September, 1994

Wanaka, N.Z. - We spent most of today in transit, first a bus from Te Anau to Queenstown and then a rental car up to here, with a break in-between. Holed up tonight in a very comfortable backpackers place with a skier-bum crowd.

There are many things I love about traveling the way we are. I was thinking that as we drove past green meadows covered with sheep, and beautiful mountain ranges of the Southern Alps. I thought about the straightforward friendliness of total strangers. I wondered at the unbroken stretches of time spent simply enjoying the world and it's beauty.

If there is one thing I find difficult it is the mode of social interaction. No one you meet do you know for more than an hour or a day, very occasionally two or three. Conversation seems form-fed: "Where ya' from?", "How long ya' been here?", "Real nice country, isn't it?" Sometimes topics of conversation are more diverse and interesting, and enjoyable, but still each interaction is a solitary event, not an episode in an on-going, developing relationship. I wouldn't say I'm dreadfully lonely - I enjoy solitude too much for that, but the possibility, even, of some sort of permanance in relationships with a few different people would be a nice improvement.

Saturday, 17 September, 1994

Arthur's Pass, N.Z. - I lost track of my diary pen yesterday. I hate it when that happens. I just realized that today is the 17th, but that it is only 12:22 a.m., and I would usually date this entry as the 16th. I'm tired.

Yesterday . . . what did we do yesterday? We drove from Wanaka to Franz Joseph's Glacier, and stayed in a hostel there. It rained all day, and was determined to remain miserable. It wasn't much of a day, I don't think. One good part: I wrote a letter to Dawn. Another: in the evening, Papa went to a bar and got to talking to two recent marine biology grads who had spent a lot of time in Cairns, on the reef, and they recommended us to Lizard's Island, a research station which will provide room & board in return for 4 hours per day of work. Sounds very cool to me.

This morning we visited the Glacier itself. I don't remember the facts and figures, but it's been around and studied for well over 200 years. It was a very impressive sight from the base, at least 100 ft. deep and a few hundred across, jagged and dirty. A group was climbing in our view, but we elected not to due to the $32 fee. This afternoon we drove here, and here we may very well stay until we drive to Christchurch for our flight out.

Saturday, 17 September, 1994

Arthur's Pass, N.Z. - Same place, same date, a whole day later. Today was a lazy day, for me anyway. I slept in almost until 10:00, then sat around reading "Time" magazines from months and even years ago. Late morning we went out for a hike up Mt. Aiken, but I started to feel not s'good a short way up. I did get as far as the Devil's Punchbowl Waterfall, though, and was it gorgeous! 350 ft. high, and accesable right up to it's base, if you were willing to get soaked by the vapor billowing out from the bottom. I nearly ruined our tickets and traveler's cheques, though, carrying them in the camera bag into the heavy mist. Ahh, I'm tired.

Sunday, 18 September, 1994

Brisbane, Australia - But only on a stopover. As I write, from seat B, row 7 of this 737-300, we're about to take off for Cairns. This is the third different plane we've been on today: we flew from Christchurch to Sydney, then from Sydney here, and now on to our final destination. Take-off!

I still like flying, although the novelty has definitely worn out somewhat after nine flights. This is the 10th on this trip. There will be at least . . . six more.

I really should be writing college essays, I suppose. I've been kind of waiting to get the actual Caltech application in Cairns, our first mail pick-up spot. Letters! That's a joy I hadn't been thinking about. Boy o' boy o' boy! Well, I won't have that excuse about the essays anymore. I've made some good use of the time, though. I breezed through a Peirs Anthony novel, Pretender, and a good part of Some Other Country, a collection of N.Z. short stories.

Monday, September 19, 1994

I am now on my way to being a certified diver. Better yet, 3 days from now I'll be one, and free to roam over the Great Barrier Reef. Actually, most of today was on the boring side, having had elementary SCUBA training at Space Academy, but some of the stuff was new. I felt a lot more comfortable with regulator recovery and whatnot, but I had a little bit of difficulty with buoyancy control on ascent and descent, but a little evening studying clarified that. Ahhhh, what a life.

Wednesday, 21 September, 1994

Saxon Reef, Australia - Into the deep blue sea went we, to see what we could see. Many metal-backed monsters did we see, pouring forth bubbles continuously.

Yesterday we finished pool and classroom instruction, though I initially had problems with completing the swimming test & treading water. First I started to feel really bloated during my third or fourth lap, and had to stop and get out of the pool. I promptly went to the bathroom and hurled. "Don't go in the pool right after eating!" was an old wives' tale I should've listened to. Then later, after spending around 3 hours in the pool training, I completed the swimming part, but 5 minutes through the treading water I was so exhausted that I crawled out of the pool and had 2-3 dry heaves. Finally, after resting in the classroom during 3 hours or so of lecture, I went back and floated for 10 minutes with no problem whatsoever.

Today was the day; 6:45 a.m. we were picked up, and then by boat we (slowly, very slowly) motored out to this big sailing ship. After lunch we made our first open water dive, and followed it about 90 minutes later with our second. We did a lot of skill practice on both, which everyone did without problems. On the second we actually did quite a bit of sight seeing, just swimming among the fishes. Time for the pirate party!

Thursday, 22 September, 1994

Norman Reef, Australia - Now this is the Great Barrier Reef! Certified divers we are, and enjoying ourselves immensely. We just got back from our second free dive, a night dive. The biggest thrill was sighting two sea turtles, one of which swam up to within about two meters from me. I also saw a large member of the same family as crayfish and lobsters, brightly colored, and a parrot fish hidden in a coral alcove. Wow.

Earlier thisafternoon, after getting our temporary certification cards, we went out on our first fee dive, in full sunlight. The reef teems with life in an extraordinary way. Un-believable.

Saturday, 24 September, 1994

Singapore - I am in the continent of Asia for the first time in my life, but I won't be for long. We have about 31 hours here, before flying to the Seychelles.

We may have closely escaped disaster. When we got off the plane, I believe we walked past the pilot, and I overheard him telling an airport official that "that plane should not fly out of this airport, based on its performance on this flight." (to paraphrase) That gets a definite "hmmm..."

It was a long flight, about 6 hours, and it is a 2 hour time difference. I spent a large portion of it watching a bad movie ("Maverick") and the rest reading and fiddling with basic trigonometry, just to tune up my mathematics. Prior to our flight, I spent a few hours in Cairns City Library, reading the end of Chaos, by James Gleick. Trying to get my essay writing started, I am.

Yesterday morning was our last on the reef. We made a dive before breakfast and one after, both of which were great. On the morning dive we saw another sea turtle, along with some huge Walleyes, good sized Mackeral, a lionfish, and many other species. On the later dive we were so fortunate as to come upon a 1.5-2.0 meter white tipped reef shark . . . and furthermore to have our underwater camera with us. We got one good shot of it, and I swam with it for a good 2-3 minutes. Later on the same dive we came upon a large Walleye who was so indifferent to our presence that I swam alongside him close enough to pet his flank. Pretty Damn Cool. P.D.C.

P.S. - for excellent food and drink in Cairns, try "The Cock & Bull." We went there for dinner with everyone from the dive course, and it was great.

Monday, 26 September, 1994

Victoria, Mahe, Seychelles - We have arrived in the third world . . . and it is more expensive than anywhere else we have been. I suppose it makes sense in a twisted sort of way (as always, in economics;) in this land with few resources, a thousand miles away from any land-mass, costs are high. But it doesn't make sense that he who comes from a land of plenty is poor when he arrives in a barren land. No lo comprendo!

We have been island hopping for 28 days now. Hawaii, New Zealand, Australia, Singapore, and now the Seychelles. Seven different islands, and it will be eight when we get to La Digue this afternoon.

"Not so different," said I when Papa declared we had reached the third world. As much like home as anywhere else we've been. Most bodies are darker, they speak a mutated French, fewer buildings, and less sturdy ones in some places. But the buses are a lot closer to SEPTA than Singapore's were. Anyway.

Yesterday we spent in Singapore, not muching things (bet you never heard of that as a verb before.) We shopped, some, in a business district that is reminiscent of a science fiction world. The stores there are stacked in 7 and 8 story buildings, and the corriders are as crowded as CHS between classes . . . all the time. And there is not one of these 7 story trading markets, but dozens of them, next to eachother, all along the street.

In the afternoon we walked to the National Library (not larger than Northwest Regional) and then into chinatown for dinner. Chinatown was incredible, a duplicate, almost, of the "central" business district, only all in Chinese. It was no couple of blocks packed with single story restraunts, it stretched over square kilometers and contained skyscrapers as tall as any in Philadelphia.

Tuesday, 27 September, 1994

La Digue, Seychelles - Another rough day in paradise. This lovely little island is gorgeous, plopped down lush, lush green in the blue, blue sea.

We hired bikes and roamed around this morning. Around noon we pedaled to the most popular (dare I say almost crowded?) beach on the island, and just sat around, swam, and slept the day away. Oh, culture check: Miles encounters his first topless beach. Very interesting.

Wednesday, 28 September, 1994

Seychelles - I took two good falls today. The first was from 10 ft. off the ground in a palm tree, inches away from the object coconut. The second was at about 10 m.p.h., off a bike. That one hurt. I've got a good sized bandage on my left hand and knee, though nothing was more than skin deep.

Another rough day in paradise . . . this time with just a little bit less sarcasm. The man in the bike shop, the one who calls me Jesus, was very nice about it. We went to see if there would be a charge for damage to the bike, and he said no, no, but here, take a different one, maybe it won't give you problems.

We've been playing freestyle poker, to 11 by ones, recently. Some absolutely crazy games have been made up; 15 cards made into 3 hands, winner of 2 out of 3 wins; Blackjack, A's and J's wild, but only if you've got one of each and the color matches; 5 card double draw, pass one card to the opponent before each draw, with one-eyeds wild. It becomes a completely different game, without betting. Tori Amos songs have been in my head.

Thursday, 29 September, 1994

Seychelles - My hand and knee have been bothersome all day. Yellow and white ooze spreading over the red, raw flesh, hardening, breaking, flaking off, oozing yet again. The wonders of the immune system.

We took a long walk to Robinson Crusoe beach, as Papa calls it. It was entirely deserted when we happened upon it a few days ago, but today it was downright crowded. On the way there we found a coconut freshly fallen from the tree, and I spent about an hour hacking away at it with my swiss army knife, on the beach. Then an Italian guy (he said "si" not "wi") came over and gestured at me as to how to go about opening it. I just handed it to him, and after ten seconds of precision smashing it against a big rock, he handed it back, fruit clear of the fibery shell. Then he got a knife and went "whack, whack, whack" around the top of it and milk started spurting out. Off came the top, just like a lid, and he handed it back and instructed me to drink. I did, spilling quite a bit of it, and it was good. Really fresh coconut milk. He took only a little chunk of the meat, and Papa and I split the rest. Good stuff.

Another thing at the beach I though worth mentioning were what appeared to be amphibians or lunged-fish both swimming in the ocean and crawling on rocks at the water's edge. I've never heard of a marine amphibian, so I thought it curious.

Friday, 30 September, 1994

Mahe, Seychelles - I began this trip with great expectations. I had no idea what the world held in store for me, but I imagined it was more than I could imagine. I thought to myself that in a way a life was dying when we flew out, because I would be a changed man when I came back, worldly wise, having seen the light of many great truths known only to the people who inhabited other parts of the earth.

I have found no great truths thusfar, only incredible beauty and awe inspiring power, energy and organization in nature. Perhaps this is because of the eyes that are percieving this world, and the mind behind them, and does not reflect the world as it is. I can't deny that. To me, truths have not been spelled out in Maori or English or Chinese or Hindi or Creol or French; only have I caught glimpses of facets of this most complex and beautiful earth.

If there were something worthwhile that could be spelled out it would be that one human being is nothing in the infinite universe. Within our little spinning massive object, there is not one person who has an effect on all others . . . everyone is free from that. Stars may shine in the North, and ne'er be seen in the South.

Sunday, 2 October, 1994

Johannesburg, South Africa - This is a city of high metal-barred fences, of concrete walls, and of barbed wire coiled at the perimeter of every other house. I have been told that 24,000 people were killed in the city and its surroundings last year alone. "Armed Response" security services are one of the leading industries. This is how the continent of Afric greets us.

There is a very sharp contrast between the eminating hostility of the South Africans we've met and the freindliness and joviality of the travellers at this hostel. The crowd here is great. I've been talking with Sam, a Ghanian, and Adrian, from Romania, Matt, from Australia, people from New Zealand, Kenya, Algeria, Pakistan, Sweden. Talking politics, race, money, education, language, food, transportation, the strange ways of America. It's a fun little brick, concrete, metal barred fortress.

We walked up to Rockey St. for lunch today, the supposed counter-culture center of Jo'burg. I faxed two pages of college info home (25 rand) and then we set out to find a restraunt. We went in, ordered, and started talking to the waitress, who said she was moving to New York next year. The subject changed to South Africa, and the political problems it was having. Quite out of the blue, a man sitting 20 ft. away, in the other side of the restraunt, said very loudly "It is wrong for you to be talking about politics." "Why?" she asked. "You see," he said, pointing to his eyes and then to us, "these are white people, and you should not say these things about our black president." "What things, I only say what is written in the newspapers, what Mandela said." "No, they are lies." She protested, but he just repeated that they were lies. She at first seemed angry, then became withdrawn, and went off to smoke in the corner. "Chilling," as Papa said.

Tuesday, 4 October, 1994

Johannesburg - Yes, still here. Not that we haven't tried to leave, we have, but we found that trains simply no longer go to Botswana, and buses only on Thursdays. As I write, I'm sitting in a garage, waiting on repairs to a 1980 Volkswagon Kombi which we may be buying for 4,600 rand, for the drive to Kenya. Things take a long time to get done here.

Yesterday was insane. In the morning we went into town and picked up the package from Mama at the American Express office. The package was fine, but the enclosed letter said that I was supposed to have received the PSAT thing in Cairns. I didn't, so I spent a lot of time later trying to get it faxed here. Finally got it thismorning.

Anyway, after we got the package and took a first look at the Kombi we went out to lunch in town. I was just finishing of my tomato omelette and milkshake when we started hearing shouting and beeping outside. The view from the door was of crowds of Africans running down the street, waving sticks and hands in the air, and making quite a ruckus. They were followed by a few traffic police, but right on the corner in front of us there was a confrontation, and the crowd stopped and started haranging the (white) traffic police. We stood watching, and about a minute later two whites in plain clothes jumped out of their red sports car and pulled huge automatic rifles out of the trunk. "Oh, shit!" I was thinking. The cashier said it was alright, they were just security personel. "Just great," I thought, "that makes everything just dandy!" We left. Fast. When we walked back in the same area later there were great crowds of people, security personel everywhere. And later, walking along a few blocks away, we heard very loud shooting noises. We ran in the opposite direction.

Thismorning we read in the paper that there had been a protest by the security workers union, and that police had shot rubber bullets and used tear gas to disperse the crowds, injuring three people. It made the front page of only one paper, in a little box. "Nucking Futs."

Wednesday, 5 October, 1994

Route N12, South Africa - Finally out of Jo'burg . . .and in a different mechanic's shop. Just hoping this siece of phit doesn't break down in Kruger and have us pushing while lions nibble on our arses.

I'm not a real happy camper, for a few reasons. First, I've got a little sore throat with the potential of becoming a big illness, and second, I'm feeling very un-good about our travelling companion, Don. He's a big-game hunter and a conservative, to start with. On top of that he's made some comments approaching being blatently racist. He also never will ask a black a question. Papa said they were at an information place and there was a free black and a busy white behind the desk, and Don waited until the white was free and asked him. That's just not cool with me. He's not Afrikaner, either, he's Australian. I haven't even had a conversation with an Afrikaner that approached blacks, but they are supposed to be extraordinarily racist.

Thursday, 6 October, 1994

Kruger National Park, South Africa - I totally lost it today. I just completely flipped out. I was so angry I cried for about 20 minutes.

We had just made it to the town by the gate of Kruger and gone grocery shopping. In the store I had snapped at Papa for encouraging Don's racism, because he had said "I suppose you'll want to find a white" when Don was trying to find information on the park. He said it without enough sarcasm for my tastes, but apologized afterwards.

Anyway, Don and I were in the car waiting for Papa to finish in the store. An African woman walked by and Don said "Boy, they all look the same, the Africans, don't they?" "No." I said. I asked him where he'd grown up, and how many blacks had lived there. "Practically none," he said, "It was a real rare thing to see a black person. Not anymore, though. They've taken over all of (some neighborhood in Sydney) and by god they've fucked it up! It's the shittiest place in the world, now. I mean these people here are all right, they've got some self-respect, but the Aborigines are just a total waste, they're just shit! I mean measured by the white man's stick . . ."

I just totally fucking lost it. "Look, I can't deal with this fucking shit from you anymore, this fucking racist fucking . . ." On and on unintelligible swearing. Papa came back and asked what the problem was. "I mean I didn't realize you felt that way," Don said, not very apologetically. "Just fucking . . ." I said. "You ok? C'mon, let's get going." Papa said. Don tried to start the car, but as usual, it wasn't obliging. "I gotta' take a walk," I said, and got out.

It takes a lot to make me cry. I can only remember really crying hard two or three times in the last three or four years. Papa didn't catch up with me for 5 or 6 blocks, and it took him a while to calm me down. I was ready to dump Don and his stuff out of the car then and there and just let him be fucked. I wanted to take his head off. Papa got me back to the car eventually, I just clammed up and glared. He told the both of us to just avoid the issue of race completely for the next three days to avoid hostility.

The park itself is just about enough to make you forget about anything. It is wowing. Elephants, Giraffes, Wildebeast, Baboons, Kudus, Zebras, Warthogs, Impalas, Waterbuck, Ostriches, Buffalo, a Rhino, a Jackal, Vultures, Hornbills, Bushpigs, Topi, Duiker. Many, many animals. This is the Africa I was awaiting.

Saturday, 8 October, 1994

Missina, South Africa - We're finally free of Don. We left him in this town to catch a bus to Jo'burg last night and tried to cross the border to Zimbabwe. We didn't succeed, because to take the Kombi out we needed a form you can only get at a bank, and they were all closed last night. Today we're trying to sell the thing here, with some possible success; two guys will pay R 5,300 if they can get it together today. Right now they've only got 2,000, so we're waiting on a little less than $1,000 U.S.

Yesterday we drove all the way up through Kruger and out, arriving here in time for dinner. It was a good day for wildlife: we saw Hippos, Eland, Busteds, Sable, an Eagle, some type of hawk or falcon, . . . and Lions. Two gorgeous beasts, a male and a female, lying about 5 meters from the road. Papa said they were most probably a mating pair, in the middle of their pattern: 40 seconds every half hour for a day and a half. We drove by them and Papa had to turn around to get us back. We were sitting there, gazing at the lions, the lions gazing right back at us. "I'll get out of the car, just to see how fast he can move," said Don. "You fuckin' crazy?" was at least approximately what Papa and I both said. "No, you guys just watch out the other way, I don't want 'em coming at me from behind." said Don, and jumped out of the car. The lions just lay there. "Hey pussy, here pussy!" Don yelled, and waved his arms. The male jumped up and growled, took a few steps forward. Don was instantly back in the car, and quite amused by himself. "OK, now we go a little ways off before we turn around, just in case the car does stall this time," said Papa.

As we drove back past the pair, after turning around, Don leaned out the window. "Hey, pussy cat, have you eaten recently? Hey, here's a tasty morsel, heyaaahh . . ." The male jumped up and bounded towards us. "Hit it!" I yelled to Papa. Foot hit accelerator, accelerator hit the floor and the car did not stall out. It picked up speed, but slowly. The lion gained on us, steamin' down the road with one terrible glare on his face, muscles bulging, padded feet moving him in great leaps forward. It was and absolutely magnificent sight, a lion from a zebra's perspective. Scared the shit out of me, too, cause Don's window was open and that fellow could've easily reached in and given him a real good swipe if the car hadn't decided to move a little bit. Granted, thinking back on it, maybe I should have been rooting for the lion, but you know he would have scratched up the paint and possibly caused other damage to the car while he was dragging Don out and having him for a light snack. And the poor lion probably would have been put down for it too. Oh, well.

Last night after we ate dinner Don and Papa went to try and find Don a place to stay for the night, so he could catch a bus in the morning. I went to the car and opened it up, intending to lie down for a while, as my cold is still bothering me. A guy who had been in the restraunt walked up and asked where I was from and if this was my vehicle. America, and yes, I told him. He flashed a card at me. "South African Narcotics, we are going to search your vehicle, OK?" "OK," I said, "Fine with me." So when Don and Papa came back they looked at our passports and asked us a few questions and searched the Kombi, but didn't seem to find anything. Probably because we didn't have anything; anyway, it was weird. About 15 minutes later we were stopped again, by a policeman in the road. He told us to turn on the high-beams, and turn them off. "Your right headlight seems to be a bit low." he said. "I'm telling you for your own safety." "Thank you," we said, and thought to ourselves "yes, thank you, but the engine is shot, the battery is half dead, there's an oil leak, and that's after about R 2,000 have been sunk into the thing on repairs." "What a miracle it'll be if those guys actually pay us that money." Papa said to me today.

To be continued . . .