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Inle Lake buy cocaine

I thought it would be interesting to see how the countries we pass through compare economically. PPP seems to have the effect of making the people in middle-income states better off. And Singapore. We can even divide one by the other, to give us a rough Cost of Living Cycling. However, this is a bit rubbish, as in most of Europe, costs were kept down by camping. Not normally regarded as high-cost locations. The Caspian Sea ferry was also an expensive night, but did cover a fair bit of ground as we slept. Turkey, Uzbekistan and India have been most costly for souvenirs, not because of prices, but because of the wonderful handicrafts, and their availability, and perhaps more stop days, and maybe the timing of Christmas. After the strenuous riding to get to Inle Lake , before moving on south we studied the map, and profiles, carefully! Thus we decided to turn initially west, to get out of the hills. We had to start by climbing them, but they got even bigger further south. It added about 70km to the route to Kyaikto, our next planned stop, but avoided a lot of climbing. It did, alas, expose us to the apparently regional, afternoon south to north wind, reducing our daily range. Some of this route was on highway 1, which was a bit busy, but bearable. Main road traffic in Myanmar is mostly largish trucks, with all sorts of cargo. Very few buses, but lots of smallish trucks and pickups crammed with folk and allsorts. A fair bit of agricultural machinery, mostly looking rather improvised. Loads of motorbikes, and a very few cars and bicycles. But even on highway 1, there were enough gaps that drivers usually waited before overtaking, and birdsong could be heard. Other parts were on very quiet country roads, wide or narrow, sometimes dirt but in good condition. Kyaikto was our rest stop, the nearest town on the highway to the famous Golden Rock. An ideal scenario for a rest day and a bus trip. Even more so when the profile showed that the last bit of that 28km ascends nearly a kilometre into the sky. And pretty powerful engines and brakes, as that road is mighty steep and full of hairpin bends and narrow bits. The truck drivers clearly enjoy the challenge, there was a fair bit of oohing and aaaahhing as the driver hurled the truck round the hairpins, rubber squealing a protest at times. The rock site was home to many stalls, sub-temples, and hotels. I had read about the famous border road that corkscrewed over and through the border mountains, so tight it was only open in one direction each day. The rotters. We decided not to, to spare our legs. Got up early, cycled 2km out of town to where the new road started, looked at the smooth, broad, almost empty, tarmac, sighed, and turned back into town for the old road. Which was, duly, fabulous. We climbed for maybe hours. It was indeed narrow, it was indeed very up, although actually reasonably graded it used to be the main truck route. It had lots of bends, and in a few places was failing to gravel or encroached on by the jungle. We saw about 3 motorbikes, 5 people, and a few houses in the entire way up. There were a few more folk in a village at the top, houses outnumbered by abandoned refreshment shacks from the trucking days. The way down was only slightly less peaceful we saw one agri-truck, parked. The road was in good enough shape for a speedy descent. Reunited with the new road, broad and smooth, we continued to Myawaddy, swapped the last of our Myanmar money, and into the border post. This is one of the main crossings between the two countries. Mostly Burmese, but some Thai, and latterly British and Japanese. Lovely warm smiles. Slim, smiling, people in longhis or pencil skirts. Myanmar buffet. Stir fried vegetables without chilli. Sane drivers. Not much wildlife guides with catapults! Wanting more time. Inle is a very lovely and scenic shallow lake a few hard days cycle south of Tsipaw. Most of the photos were taken during a day-long trip by long-tail boat, visiting the villages around the lake. This custom is rapidly dying out, so these middle-aged ladies sorry! Yarn made from lotus stems. The cloth ends up coarse and pricier than linen, so not widely adopted elsewhere. Silver smiths, these lads only work when the tourists look their way! The cigar ladies, in contrast, seemed very busy. It was a second exhausting day but every cloud has a silver lining. Deadbeat, at 6pm after the sun had set, we finally reached a village. Finally, the next day, the run into Nyaung Shwe on Lake Inle was unmemorable. A tiny blog posting — a Micropost! End of micropost! Note to self — master spreadsheet stored on cloud, in case plans change! Most common form of public transport. I reckon he needs mirrors up there. Set off at dawn to avoid the heat…. And down again…. Another roadside fire. Not sure how many are deliberate. We think she was quite an old lady. Two lads were looking after her. Mind Fingers! Powerful beast. Checkout the new road. Nah, take the old road. Clare summits. Looking down from the old road. Pulling fibre from a lotus stem. Straightening a bit of silver wire. At 40km into our 80km trip my legs were knackered from grinding up hills in my lowest gears. Once up on the plateau and greeted by a significant head wind our average speed was still a meagre 10 km per hour. I was still peddling in middle gears to get down hill! At 22km the horizon line looked ominous. As we started our descent I fantasised that I could see a wide valley through the trees at the bottom as we took a long sweep back along the hillside. Dream on! Looking back at the lower hairpin bends. Initially it was a wide road with sweeping bends big enough for articulated lorries passing in both directions but it quickly got narrower and steeper. Soon there were queues of truckers in both directions at the cutbacks. At one especially tight turn a policeman was in charge, otherwise polite hooting indicated a driver was going to move. The rest tucked in. We carved a route between them and stopped to quiver at the sight of the road winding up the other side. Our descent taking 40 mins. The ascent started well. The sections were well graded with long steady climbs. There was only the occasional steep hairpin that required a real effort. So the climb went on. At least heading south we got some shade while going up. It was after 15 km that we yet again had the wind in our faces. And at around that point we finally saw the viaduct. After a further 2km we did indeed reach the top. Gid seemed OK but I was fit to drop. Fortunately a bottle of pop was enough to take me the remaining 2km to the hotel. Gokteik Gorge road Myanmar road 3. Total distance 17 km. Day two started with even more steady climbing. Very soon we turned left off 3, onto Another 15 km passed before we reached a stretch that could be called undulating. My legs were reduced to jelly. Even the ominously named Snake Mountain, on the way to Pushkar — India, turned out to be little more than a South Downs bump. This was day two of some serious ascents. Forget the well graded gradients. This was serious stuff. Gid reckoned the steeper bits were , and kept stopping to let his rims cool — eventually letting his tyres down a bit to avoid explosions and one old tyre had partially split its sidewall, we noticed a little later. I reckon it was serious shit. Down narrow gravelly hairpin bends where I could barely stop the bike at all I soon lost my bottle and walked! And, gave up all hope of cycling up the other side. Crossing the bridge at the bottom Gid tried to convince me that beyond the first section the gradients looked better. He flogged up the first part, l pushed my bike from the start. Trimmed down and super fit Gid did manage a gallant effort but had to admit in the end, that the gradients did not improve. Just over two hours later we reached the top. Spirits were very low. We were just at the third peak. Spot the two gorges. Downhill all the way! One of many pagodas, linked to monasteries, along the route. Camping is strictly forbidden. Apart from tribal warfare that continues, blocking certain roads and areas in Myanmar, there are still land mines in the countryside. The first port of call in a village with no tourist accommodation is the monastery. The monks will, apparently, frequently allow you to sleep over night. The locals quickly directed us to the monastery. On arriving there we were greeted by hordes of young monks. Both Gid and I were waiting for an elder to appear but a monk in his late teens directed us to follow two young lads on a motorbike. Little did they know how slow we would be. They lead us off up the road turning off along a lane to a family home. We had a lovely supper with the family who were kind enough to put us up for the night. Two English speaking young ladies, teachers from the local school, came to join the crowd. Charades finished, translations started, as we struck up some conversation. The two young ladies also offered a breakfast invitation which we gratefully accepted and were treated, again to traditional Myanmar fare. Just before we left they offered Clare a gift, a beautiful blue green longee. Oh dear, how to respond? Gid dived into a pannier for our tiny gifts; a bell with compass! The lady was a little nonplussed, not having a bicycle, or even, we learned, a motorbike but liked the idea that in time her children would like the bell on a bike. Wandering About. It used to be called Burma, reflecting the dominance of the Bamar people. Indeed, they were expanding quite an empire westwards in the early s, until they met the East India Company expanding the other way, attacked, and came off worst. Our guide, Aikethein, is a Palaung. No such luck. Barely across one field we started on our incline. Forest paths wound over tree roots and rocks as we crunched through the leaf fall, passing cleared areas used for crops, often, at this time of year, burnt to clear them for the next growing season. Towards the end of the day, small plantations of tea bushes ranged up steeper slopes. A small boy dancing from rock to rock across the burbling brook, swiftly crouching to take aim, catapult in hand. The bird flew off as junior sprang into action again, for another shot. Aikethein fumbled in his bag seizing his catapult for a more experienced attempt. We stopped in a Shan village for lunch, although at the house of a Palaung family. Shan and Palaung have their own languages, and the Palaung generally live higher up in the hills, where they grow tea. Our food was on a circular low table in a large sparsely furnished room. Our hostess bustled away at a bit of sweeping keeping the room spotlessly clean once we had eaten. The small pile she had swept with her traditional handmade broom quickly disappeared down a lifted floor board to the ground 8 feet below — how neat was that! The roomy houses are lovely. There are now some concrete houses, but most are a traditional chunky wood frame with bamboo mat walls. Sometime in the last years, corrugated iron roofs replaced thatch in most cases. The light woven walls keep out the sun but provide ventilation. The cuisine is one of the many things that defines each culture. We were first introduced to fermented tea leaf salad on the Myanmar International Airways plane where Gid tried it but declined a second helping. Here in the village, having done a days hike and with no other option, we both tucked in. Aikethein was telling us that whilst the main ingredients may stay the same across regions of Myanmar the method of cooking them has slight changes from village to village. He pointed out that the food we were eating was less greasy than in Hsipaw which we agreed with. Sourbanyan tree leaves, cabbage soup, a solid wad of steamed rice were three of the things on our supper table. Manns Tan, a Palaung village, perched on the edge of the hillside, is a cluster of 15 houses. There are numerous children all keen to smack your hand in a high 5 greeting calling bye- bye, hello, tata. Relatively recently, the trails to it have been dug out to be passable by motorbike as well as horse. A motorbike can carry two 50Kg bags of rice, plus a bit else. Mostly up, as we climbed to around m, amongst small tea plantations and wandering water buffalo whose bells clonked musically as they browsed. Aikethein Taw was our guide. His village is 50 km away but is not accessible to foreigners because, like many places in Myanmar, there are civil, and not so civil, disputes between tribes fighting over the natural resources in the land. He has big ideas for more work in the growing tourist trade. Aikethein is one of twelve siblings. Two of his brothers died from cocaine addiction, one from measles which in the last ten years is now immunized against. In villages where there are less than thirty children there is no formal education but children will often be sent to a nunnery or monastery at the age of six or seven and are free to leave when they like. We arrived with a couple of days in hand to do the circuit. Around AD, this area was the centre of a growing kingdom, that converted to Buddhism, so enthusiastically that they went and raided all the Buddhist treasures from nearby kingdoms, and over about years, built thousands of temples, pagodas, and stupas. Some very grand, many small, and anything in between. Since then, many have fallen into disrepair or been demolished by earthquakes. A few are restored, many are maintained, somewhat, and still used. The people who built them are largely forgotten, historians theorise they spent so much building temples that they were economically and militarily overtaken by neighbours. A few photos are at the bottom of this posting, but first, how we got lost in the country…. Day two we took a different approach. I hunted out a few of the lesser pagodas with a more interesting commentary. One had passages underground, a second had a ghost and promised excellent views; with a couple of others along the way our day was sorted. The route connecting them was cross country on adjoining tracks. The trails often disintegrate into sand and as our front wheels carved deep and the back wheel slides sideways we frequently came to an abrupt stand still. All were useless, the tracks unrelated to the maps. The sand track was big enough for a bus initially, indeed, there were several on it. Then it got a bit smaller, then smaller again, but fine for motorbikes and us. Then smaller still, really just a footpath across a field until it finally petered out altogether. We walked the bikes along the field edge, heading north, towards the road. Beckoned by a farmer tending his field, we pushed through a sort of hedge to regain a track across a field. Finally, we got back to something navigable. Whose plan was that? And we found a yard of abandoned carriages — two wheelers are still widely used for tours, but these bigger jobs are discarded. On leaving Yangon airport, after our flight from India, it was like stepping back into normality albeit with a sauna full on. Other cars travelled along marked lanes with the occasional brief hoot as we listened to the purr of motor car engines. Motorbikes are banned! Buses cruised along. All very orderly and blissfully peaceful. Melodic bird song returned to our ears. The city itself was, by comparison, clean, although as we explored further we found many similarities with India: crowds, street vendors, wires draped along the buildings and criss-crossing the streets, surface drainage channels and food stalls filling the pavement. But no cows, no hasslers, and the wares now carried on shoulder poles. And did we mention, no hooting? We visited quietly busy pagodas and restocked on memory cards and a few bike bits. So, we used alternative transports to backtrack about halfway up the country, back towards the border with India. Decidedly top heavy, perched on a one metre wide gauge, the sleeper train from Yangon to Bagan lurched and jolted along, frequently caterpillar style whilst wobbling from side to side. Sharing the carriage with Anton from Germany and the many bugs and mosquitoes, left us all with ample space but the mossies seemed rather greedy. Gid resorted to a bug net overnight, carefully tucking me in as well. Lurching along in the train we were submerged in village life: fields being watered or tended to, traffic waiting for us to pass, children, and those young at heart, keen to wave. Vendors tempted us with their wares peering into our gaping windowless chasms, other locals sat just biding their time or peeking from behind their doors but all were near to be seen. Blue loo and satalite dishes. The river boat from Bagan to Mandalay was not as interesting as the train trip from Yangon to Bagan. Bustling along the river that was a good half mile wide, despite winding our way back and forth avoiding the shallows, we were rarely in touch with the people. Dancing dots on the horizon appeared to be children playing on the bank. Others were attending laundry or fishing nets, just distinguishable in the distance. Photos taken require dramatic cropping to give a feel of the people and scenery around us. River traffic trundled past but was frequently industrialized; clearly not from the villages that periodically line the banks. On the boat itself there was an on going game of musical chairs as views versus the sun battled for the prized seats first facing one way then the other. With about 20 tourists aboard and one local passenger , there was a chance for some chat. Especially as Nicolas and Elise were also cycle touring. Navigating through the sand banks that were intermittently marked, was highly technical. Two people stood on the bow of the boat elegantly welding depth gauge poles, arm actions directing the helmsman left or right. Motorbikes are banned only in Yangon, elsewhere in Myanmar they are ubiquitous. Sometimes one can hear a motorbike approaching by the voices of the people on it! In Mandalay, it was our voices, as we took motorbike taxis at one point. They also gave us helmets, but had they just got their motorbikes and wanted to practice? Were we paying for their learner petrol? Our second train trip, Mandalay to Tsipaw, notable for two feats of engineering back in the early s, was also marked by higher levels of sophistication seen in the farming. Although still mainly small scale stuff with every last patch of fertile land cultivated, the watering cans on shoulders and the ox ploughs had been replaced by rotavators, hose pipes, sprinklers systems and strimmers. Unbelievably the train jolted to a halt then went backwards. It gradually became obvious; as day was breaking we could see the track layers beneath us. A panoramic view opened up before us, lined with receding hills. Fleeting glimpses developed into a full view until the train stopped just before we curved round to cross the Goteik Gorge viaduct. Goitek Viaduct. Oh and then in Tsipaw , tuk tuk, hiking, and in Lyaung Shwe , long tail boat. Subscribe Subscribed. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. 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Inle Lake buy cocaine

There are countries in the world. For 60 years, one of those countries, Burma, now known as Myanmar , was isolated from the rest of the world. For 60 years no one was able to see what this country had to offer. It blows my mind. Myanmar, lucky country 40 for me and 28 for Andy, quickly became one of our favorite destinations, hands down. From the thousands of pagodas in Bagan, to the floating gardens in Inle Lake and chaotic streets of Yangon, this country surprised us in so many ways. I pride myself on being a geography buff thanks to my World Map shower curtain from Amazon.. After doing a bit of research we had to adjust our 6 weeks in Asia slightly so we were able to see the balloons over Bagan they stop launching around April 15th due to weather conditions. We planned only 1 week in Myanmar and it was the perfect amount of time for each of the cities we chose but there are still a few other locations that we wish we added to the itinerary. Sometimes I like leaving a country knowing that there was way more to see, just means we will have to come back one day. When we arrived at Heho airport we realized how underdeveloped this country is. A double door opens up right next to the stand and the airport crew start throwing the checked luggage on to the ground, it was actually a much easier process to collect our bags here than the fancy belts that JFK have. We were off! Inle Lake is about an hour drive from the airport and up until you get to the archway of Inle, the scenery is pretty sparse. Our driver stopped a couple of times to let us watch the locals tend to their floating gardens. We arrived at our resort which was right on the lake, fit with a large deck with reclining wooden chairs for a front-row sunset view over the water. Pretty spectacular, to say the least. We were welcomed to our room by a baby tarantula that was hanging out in our bathroom and was so excited to see Andy that he ran right over his foot. Guess that was our big welcome to Asia! The 2 women who showed up to kill the eight legged monster were giggling and had no fear putting it in a rag. Andy felt extremely emasculated afterwards but soon got over it. ANYWHO- the next day we took our bikes and went to the neighboring village of Mine Thauk where we walked along a long wooden bridge that connects the land village to the water village. We decided to eat at a local restaurant there where the only way to get there was by a boat to drive us about 50 feet across. From pm it is SO hot here that it makes riding your bikes nearly impossible. If you come here, especially during hot season, make sure to find a hotel with a pool Few recommendations: mid-range stay-Inle Lake Resort where we stayed and for a little bit pricier places but gorgeous: Novotel or Sanctum Resort. We sped past local fisherman balancing on the edges of their boats while they paddle with one leg, visited local silversmiths, wood-carving shops and silk factories. Our favorite part of the day was visiting the village of Indein where we got lost in the sparkling gold pagodas of Shwe Inn Thein. She took our kyats and brushed them all over her scarves and shawls that she sells repeating lucky money. She told us it meant that when someone buys something and they brush the bills over the products they sell it will bring them luck for the rest of the day. We absolutely loved Inle Lake and if you decide to go there feel free to email us for recommendations inthebestsworld gmail. Oh Bagan. Bagan is where we made friends with a local, An Cho, climbed to the top of a secret temple and learned that Andy Best cannot drive an e-bike. His knuckles were white, his back was dripping with sweat and he was as stiff as a board. That being said, he did improve tremendously over the 48 hours we were there and I am very proud. Bagan was one of those places that you just have to see for yourself. The best times of day and most popular times to be outside as a tourist in Bagan are at sunrise and sunset. Until about a year ago you were able to climb up the temples, a lot of them have steps on the outside or secret entrances on the insides, but after a tragic accident Bagan banned climbing on pretty much all of them. I had to cross that off my bucket list! On our way to Old Bagan, we pretty much got driven off the road by a slow moving car, and our soon to be friend, An Cho pulled over to see if we were okay. An Cho started chatting with us and we got into a conversation about climbing temples. My eyes instantly lit up. I know you did. Because at first, we did too. Afterwards we sat under Buddha downstairs and had An Cho did I mention he was an artist? He taught us about how Burmese people name their children, by the days of the week, and from what plants he got his colors from. We ended up negotiating and bought 3 paintings from An Cho. Lucky money everywhere!!!! He showed us how to get to a veggie restaurant we were dying to try and then we said our goodbyes. Meeting An Cho has been one of the highlights of our trip so far. Luckily, our good friend had recently visited Myanmar and told us about a great little travel hack and we confidently strolled into a beautiful hotel to use their pool for the day. Just drop me a line! I was bummed obviously but somehow we scored the best seat in the house with no one in front of us. We watched the sky go from black, to light blue, to golden-orange as the balloons started to rise up from behind the pagodas. Based on recommendations we strategically planned one night in Yangon. For us, it ended up being the perfect amount of time. This place was stunning. From monks walking around to prayers being said, it was surreal. We headed down to Chinatown around 19th street to try and find some famous Crab Rangoon at the Rangoon Tea House but they were all sold out! The rest of the food was great though, definitely recommend checking this place out. After walking around for a solid 30 minutes in 98 degree, sticky heat, we both looked at each other and decided to call it a day. The streets were SO hectic and crowded but it was surely a sight to see. To us, Myanmar felt like one of those countries that are on the brink of an absolute tourist explosion. We are so happy we came here before that happens. The definition may vary but your family will always be a unit. Andy and I have such a unique life right now with very little consistency. But no matter what your day to day lives may be, we all need a support system to lean on. The support we have from our families to live out our dreams of exploring the world has been exactly what we needed. They answer our texts at weird hours in the day, look through all the pictures we send them and are genuinely interested in what adventures we are having. That being said, the 4 month mark was the absolute perfect time in our trip to have the opportunity to see my side of the family, my unit, for a few days on the beautiful island of Aruba. For a very special occasion, might I add. How cool is that?! Queue Mary. Bonus points for whoever knows what I did there. Mary is the modern day Wonder Woman. She protects kids in her day job and raised some pretty great kids in her everyday life-job. About 4 years after my mom died, my dad gradually got the courage to make Mary more than just a friend. And thank God he did! Kidding, guys!! My family dynamic has changed drastically in the last 10 years. In the best way possible. Sounds like a weird math problem right? I mean, 25 years ago this city was dubbed the most dangerous city on earth. Even 10 years ago, this place was seriously violent with pockets and neighborhoods you absolutely did not want to roam around in, even in the daylight. Juan also asked another question, in 3 words what comes to mind when you think of the country Colombia, 9 times out of 10 people answered with: cocaine, Pablo Escobar he who shall not be named and coffee. There were times during that morning where I would catch myself staring into space, staring at Colombian locals that were around 30 years of age or older, thinking about what they must have seen growing up. Side note: I call him that because Juan said mostly everyone in Colombia hates this terrorist and if we said his name loudly it would spark outbursts by locals because it brings back such awful memories. Gabriela was ou r teache r at Toucan Spanish School and she was great. Blew our minds. We thought she was just trying to hold us accountable for speaking only Spanish while we were there. Any time I was practicing my verbs and adjectives in Spanish I would tease Andy and insert English words when I was unsure and she would laugh her ass off. So in short, Gabriela and I had a special bond making jokes about Andy, we now know more than 3 phrases in Spanish and can get through an entire dinner at a restaurant not speaking a word of English to our waiter. Success in my book. So after 4 weeks, Andy and I will definitely be leaving with a great sense of respect for this country and would encourage everyone to come spend some time here. Pick up your paintbrush, use my words and channel your inner Botero to paint your masterpiece. The dazzling blue waters of the Caribbean ocean meet the edges of an old historic ancient city wall. Music is starting to get louder and louder as the clock keeps ticking and you see a few Colombian locals dancing in the palm frilled plazas with the colorful buildings behind them. When I lived still cannot believe that is past-tense in New York City a fun weekend getaway was always a must from time to time. Cartagena would be my weekend getaway choice for you Northeast folks. Andy and I are big proponents on staying in Airbnb apartments as much as we can. You get to feel like a local. Our apartment was in a tall building that was a renovated hotel building, close to Parque Fernandez de Madrid. We were lucky enough to score a high floor apartment with amazing ocean and city views. Our favorite thing to do in Cartagena was step out of our apartment with no wifi on our phones and walk through the streets, up, down, across, all over Old Town with no agenda at all. The doors to the buildings are so intricately designed that it makes you want to go home and rip your front door down and get one of these babies installed. I got a list of recommendations for restaurants from a bunch of friends before I left. A few that I will pass on the recommendation for: Maria, La Cevicheria, Donjuan, Cuba , Juan Del Mar when you make your reservation make sure they seat you in front of the band and for a great breakfast go to Mila. Everywhere is great. So maybe one night skip the restaurant and support the local street food vendors instead. Make sure you have enough space on your phone for all of the photos you will take. How is that even possible? Most of them are doors, balconies and me in front of them. Andy has really mastered the burst feature on the iPhone, he nails it every time! Second piece of advice. Brush up on your Spanish. Pointing at your menu and your Google Maps when asking for directions or ordering. Memorize a few key phrases so you can try to speak the same language. Picture the emoji with the hand on chin, eyebrows curled, looking upward in contemplation. There are certain countries that are new to the tourism thing and when you are traveling in them you can tell that they are on the verge of a tourist eruption. AKA…book your tickets there…. When it comes down to it, traveling requires a lot of planning and, for many people, can generate feelings of stress, frustration, and overwhelming thoughts. How can you see everything in an allotted amount of days, save up for it newsflash: blog post coming SOON about this and trust that where Google tells you to go in this case, Sri Lanka is best for you and your travel desires? Well I wanted to outline how I would build out an itinerary for this country, with some advice from our own experiences and funny stories along the way. You will need it. Worth it. Girls, no cute tanks or Levi denim shorts for you while seeing those historic temples! Pack a lightweight scarf for the shoulders and a sarong or harem pants. I bought a few sarongs while in Sri Lanka so leave room in your suitcase. These are usually set up through travel agencies and some Trip Advisor forums have guides information too. You can also climb up to Pidurangala Rock. Side note: on the train, make sure to post up in one of the open doors so you can hang out of it. Unlike America, there are zero rules on this train. Your arms, legs, hands, entire bodies can be leaning a whole 45 degrees outside of the moving train. You just have to make sure to keep an eye out because there are low hanging branches and tunnels that could ruin your trip, catch my drift? This street reminded me of Seminyak in Bali. Little boutiques, massage whole in the walls and rustic coffee shops. Get lunch on the rooftop at Cafe Chill. This is beanbag, no shoes, type atmosphere. Grab an iced tea or a refreshing lime soda!!! Maybe it was the tiny taste of America we felt it gave us. A combination of language barrier problems and confusion happened, and all we wanted was to turn around and head back down to Cafe Chill. It was a small hotel sitting atop lush rolling hills with a view to die for. Hearts sank and we decided that the 30 minute drive was worth the luxury and serene escape on the hill. It ended up being our favorite hotel. We felt like we had the whole park to ourselves in Udawalawe, animals were always front in center to our jeep, no lines, no tourists. This is a must stop. Eat at Little Tuna for some great sushi. Find Secret Beach. Do some morning Kundalini yoga with Mirissa Yoga. Take a tuk tuk to Dalawella Beach and have them stop at the Dream Cabana so you get pay your rupees for the palm swing that takes you flying over the ocean. I was a little underwhelmed but the walled city downtown area was pretty cute. It was about 95 degrees the day we went and at high noon. Not great planning on our part so make sure to go early in the AM or at about 5PM before sunset for some cooler temps. We went to The Gallery Cafe for lunch, chic little spot. The language barrier is tough and there are tons of mosquitoes but every awkward, unproductive conversation and itchy bite is totally worth the scratch. There are a lot of aspects of my life that I am very open about. Hello, I am an over-sharer, remember? Why do I have a burning desire to experience new cultures? Why do I get the most satisfaction checking things off my bucket list? And why do I say YES to everything travel related? Hands down. You learn how to get through it, channel your anger and sadness to be strong. You turn that energy into willpower. I want it to be inspiring; to show you that shitty things happen in your life and how you can turn them eventually into a positive outcome and get someplace better. I follow a ton of travel bloggers. His ask was to get raw, honest and share WHY traveling makes you tick? It confirmed that what Andy and I are doing this year was perfect for us. Our own little curve ball that we decided to throw into our lives on purpose. My parents had never been out of the country aside from a few Caribbean islands , and never had the travel bug quite like I do. For me, my burning desire to see the world and escape the safe nest my parents created occurred 9 years ago. It was my junior year of college and I was about to travel half way around the world to study abroad in Sydney, Australia. During that week where I could barely comprehend how my life had just drastically changed I somehow made one of the best decisions of my life, and that was to still go to Australia. Everything I did while I was abroad I did for her. My dad said I was nuts, my friends said I should stay home, but that only motivated me to show them that I could make it. Together, we would help inspire others to explore the world and, if given the option to take the comfortable route or uncomfortable route, always choose the latter because it can lead to something amazing. I mean, what could be more uncomfortable than living out of a suitcase during your first year of marriage?! Genetically speaking, my parents may not have passed down that travel gene, but they instilled characteristics inside me that have led me to travel the world without fear and embrace every opportunity that comes my way. I am surrounded by such powerful women in my life that of course will never replace what my mom was able to give me everyday but they sure have a much bigger impact than they may think. He may have got his grays a few years earlier than most dads but he did it, he got us through. Rolling hills, lush green gardens, grand king coconut palm trees, honking tuk-tuks, flourishing tea plantations, refreshing lagoons, monkeys running on the streets, Indian Ocean breezes, Buddhist prayer songs, elephants feeding in the wild. My tastebuds have never been so challenged by the foods I am trying. My ears are buzzing when I go to sleep from the sounds of the busy cities. I look down at my arms and re-trace the beautiful henna tattoo a nice Muslim lady intricately drew on me. I can still smell the 3 different types of tea that are harvested in that Nuwara Eliya tea factory. Holy shit. We are only 1 week i n to our 3 week Sri Lankan trip. What more is there possibly to discover about this gem of a country? Yet, when I am walking around these towns or staring out the car window trying not to miss a thing, there is a major common theme I keep noticing here:. These people do not have a lot of possessions and they are happier than ever. They grow most things they eat. They open their homes to strangers. They are so proud to be Sri Lankan. Case in point: Meet Bakir, our guide. The jolliest man you ever will meet. I mean, he greeted us with flowered necklaces, took photos of us in the airport with our luggage at 1AM, smiling and giggling even after he had waited in the airport 3 hours more than he had to because of a delay. What a saint. Who needs a Starbucks drive thru when Bakir creates one for you? He will be speeding on the road and see a king coconut stand, slam on his breaks, honk his horn and negotiate how many rupees we will pay. The man or woman will break the coconut open with a massive knife and hand it to us through our window with a cute pink straw. No long lines, no annoying speakers or rude service people. Our own personal Sri Lankan drive thru. He always makes you feel comfortable and safe. And he teaches you about the Sri Lankan culture and history. There are 4 major religions on the island. They all live in the same neighborhoods, mixed, happy and cohesive. Sri Lankans pride themselves on this harmonious lifestyle. It is so damn inspiring. One of the days, we went to the top of Gampola, a place called Ambuluwawa Tower which is a com plex sitting at over 3, feet with degree views of Kandy and neighboring towns. The best part about this majestic fortress is there is a gated area where all 4 religious centers are next to one another. You open the gate and there sits a Buddhist temple, a Hindu temple, a mosque and a church. He says that his friends come here to pray and everyone can be in one area together. Truth be told, the first time I pulled up a map and started to research the best towns to go to and how to get to each one, I was extremely overwhelmed. I decided to research and find a travel agent to help me. The best way to see all of Sri Lanka, in my opinion, is to hire a driver because the roads are not the best. We are taking a train tomorrow to Ella which is dubbed the most scenic train ride in the world. We have first class seats. I will update this on a future post after we finish our trip here! But IF you are into the SUPER touristy thing and enjoy waiting in lines to climb, get hit in the head with selfie sticks, then walk up to the top. You have to scale a few rocks to get up to this viewpoint so be careful, I slipped and skidded down one, yeah-ouch. T ake the tiny staircase all the way to the top and say hi to the Monk waiting up there for you — then just enjoy the views. If you hire a good guide they will know where to take you. Sri Lanka has been nothing short of extraordinary. Referring back to 7 when I was getting my massage and they were massaging my ear lobes it hit me like a ton of bricks: this is my life. We are doing this. We are traveling with no obligations other than to see what the world has to offer. And for that, I am so grateful. Want to see more pics? Check out our new gallery! Arguably one of the most unrivaled luxurious destination hot spots in the world — the Maldives archipelago is, in fact, a dream. Brace yourself this is the part where my constant over-sharing comes in and Andy will be cringing. Over coffee, Andy and I were having a chat about our travel plans for that year and my bucket list came up. Taking you to just a few weeks before we got engaged in July of We had started talking a little more seriously about our potential travel plans. Even though there was no doubt in my mind I wanted the Maldives to be first. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him… in the Maldives. Now to December 28, It was perfect. We wanted to get married before we started our year of travel. The ceremony was special for so many reasons. The bride me steps outside first, and the groom Andy steps out second. We were both given tropically decorated flower parasols that were placed around our necks. Next, we were escorted down the long, winding boardwalk with our musicians beating away at their drums all the way to the archway they built for us on the beach. These drums must have a special hollow core that allows for the sound to permeate across the entirety of the island because it drew about 34 half-naked international beach goers to our ceremony. And even though we were both somewhat mortified, we came to the Maldives for one reason, and it was to express to one another, through our own vows, how much we mean to each other. If this place is somewhere you want to travel to, which you all should, make sure you know this going into it. We decided to splurge and go for the Sunset Jacuzzi Water Villa where we had not 1 but 2 bathtubs overlooking the crystal blue ocean and our own personal dock to jump into the water whenever we pleased. Because we got married here I kind of felt like royalty from day 1. Every person that worked here knew who we were from the moment we stepped off the 45 minute speed ferry from the airport. Andy Best and Mrs. Samantha Meg. We spent most days being lazy, reading in the sun with the occasional swim out to sand bars that formed and trying to not find ourselves swimming with the baby sharks. We decided to just sit back, relax, and sometimes pinch ourselves that we were even here. The Maldives were an absolute gem of a place to start our year of travel. We came, we saw, we conquered. We are finally traveling with zero obligations. And it feels good. It feels real good. Brief history of how the Bests became the Bests. I was in sales, he was in customer success. What does that mean exactly? I sold LinkedIn products and Andy made my clients great at using those products. Nonetheless, we formed a friendship that was like no other. In January of we had the talk of all talks and decided to start dating. In February of we took our first international trip together to Iceland. Short snippet on why we chose this beautiful country first. Andy and I are big bucket list people. We both have one written down, always have. The satisfaction of crossing things off a list is so gratifying. Andy likes the pen and paper model while I use the Notes section on my iPhone. I remember about an hour before I told Andy where we were going and my big surprise, I was having lunch with my dad at my favorite childhood restaurant, Town Spa Pizza. Who do you think you are? Well listen, if anyone knows me they know I am spontaneous, impulsive and LOVE giving people I am close with a good surprise. I think this is an important part of our story. When you travel with someone, you learn SO much about them. It solidified that we have similar interests, crave a good adventure and more importantly, we love experiencing all of those things together. Fast forward to July in the gorgeous Algarve Coast in Portugal. Andy proposed. More on the proposal story later, I promise. The proposal is the reason we are in the Maldives our 1st stop on our year of travel. It was a few weeks later when we started to reaaaall y get serious about potentially traveling for an entire year. Our parents were supportive, our friends were excited, and that was that. We were in. We played a game one night in our tiny studio NYC apartment that helped shape our year ahead. We had 5 places in common. Let me tell ya, it is VERY hard to narrow down places to go when you want to see absolutely every country and every city in the entire world. Traveling gives me a sense of fulfillment, a purpose and a better sense of the person I want to become. Feeling uncomfortable in places where the culture is SO different than that of the United States makes me feel comfortable in a way that is difficult to describe. But what I decided is that it will be raw and honest. The way I write is the way I speak. I am a normal girl that likes to travel with her husband and we decided to save our money, quit our jobs and spend it on what we love to do the most in this world, and that is to see it. Mingalaba hello Inle Lake! Balloons over Bagan Oh Bagan. The people, pagodas and way of life are truly impressive. Onto Laos! Family: n a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group according to Dictionary. Family: n a support system that you know will always have your back, no matter what. So I get it. Get cocktails at the Envy Rooftop of the Charlee Hotel in Parque Lleras Poblado neighborhood right before sunset for great views of the city. Go see Comuna 13 and either book a graffiti tour or read up on the history before you go and create your own tour. The graffiti is seriously mind blowing. El Castillo was a fairytale-like castle in the middle of the Poblado neighborhood. The artist is back! Where to stay? What to do? Get lost. Find good spots to take in that sparkling sunset. Take the elevator to the roof just about an hour before sunset to grab a good table and order the Gin fizz cocktail. This new rooftop only fits about people, has great music and a tiny pool that you can stick your feet in as you watch the sun go down. Top of the Movich Hotel. We decided to skip out on taking a boat to the islands on this time around. Instead we bought a couple day pool passes at Movich, and it was SO worth it. It has unbelievable views of Cartagena! A little oasis atop of Old Town. Cafe Del Mar. This is a VERY popular bar on top of the wall that overlooks the ocean with no obstructions for your sunset view. We opted to sit on the wall next to Cafe Del Mar, could still hear the music and enjoy the sunset from there. Where to eat? Two pieces of advice before stepping foot off that plane. You will be in for a special treat. Things to do before you leave for Sri Lanka: -Get your e-visa online within 1 month of departure. In short, the answer is my Mom. Life throws you curve balls and this was ours. Switching gears. You have all helped me in so many ways possible and for that I am forever grateful. But the biggest mention needs to go to my Dad because he had to become a Dad-Mom to a 17 year old and 20 year old. What a guy. The 3 of us knocked that curve ball out of the god damn park. Got your visual? Sri Lanka makes your five senses go absolutely mental. Yet, when I am walking around these towns or staring out the car window trying not to miss a thing, there is a major common theme I keep noticing here: These people do not have a lot of possessions and they are happier than ever. But most importantly, they are SO happy. So happy to be alive. Susan, you are a God send. The Maldives…really? January 20, we wrote our own vows and got married on a beautiful beach of South Male Atoll. So much for romantic and secluded. It was imperfectly perfect. Now, enough of the lovey dovey stuff. Subscribe Subscribed. 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