We Arrived - The Luggage Didn't

Sometimes travel can be so exhausting. The beginning of this journey began like that. The flight to Beijing was one of those events in life where one crisis follows another. The flight was delayed because Vancouver was described as a three-day gong show (the words of airport staff). Being from Regina I find it hard to visualize a few inches of snow shutting down anything but apparently it did. Our flight was delayed giving us six minutes to catch an international flight so that put us on standby to an earlier flight. We were assured our luggage would arrive on a straight through to Beijing. So here we are - with our carry on each between us and whatever we could scavange.

Travel is always - an adventure.

The Countdown begins

So tomorrow we're off to Beijing. Our trip will take us from the Great Wall of China to Angor Wat and then to the plains of Bagan in Myanmar. It is beginning to feel real now that the rush of the book launch, Christmas and numerous domestic emergencies are hopefully well behind me. Today I had my first view of the mountains - it was dark but the silhouette was enough. I'm on my way. The journey begins!!

Make new friends - travel

Ryshia

Travel Away...

This isn't China, Burma/Myanmar or even Bangkok Airport but I thought I'd give you a taster of the journey to come. This is an article I wrote after kayaking down a river in Krabi, Thailand. Every adventure is different and every trip is something to be savored in the long hours between trips. So here you are, enjoy....

Don’t Feed the Wildlife


In Au Nang, Krabi, Thailand, limestone cliffs punch sky before spiraling into the ocean. It is a place where caves are plentiful and where James Bond made an appearance in “The Man With The Golden Gun.”

Au Nang is very different then the first time I saw it. In the early 1990’s it was a mere dirt track along the beach. Now the dirt track is gone. Hotels line the streets and kayaking expeditions to see the caves and a monkey or two are offered everywhere.

So we’re off to river kayak. After a forty-minute car ride from Au Nang we reach the literal end of the road. There is a primitive, roughly built house, a large wooden dock and a wooden bar with a plastic table covered with an embroidered tablecloth. It is sparse enough to initiate doubt about the journey ahead.

We begin in a long boat. The driver speaks no English and the guide knows little but tries hard. We settle in for an interesting trip. Two plastic kayaks bob behind us. Exhaust spews over the placid river as we head out. Soon the trees crowd in, overhanging far over the water with mangroves pushing the boundaries of tree and water as they spread roots in the river.

The guide stops the boat. It’s time to get into the kayak.

With the small kayak bumping gently against the guide’s boat, I peer into the river’s dark depths. There are salt-water crocodiles here. I’m not anxious to see one. Not in a small craft that is made of vivid yellow plastic.

Finally we’re settled in our kayak with the guide in his own kayak. Beneath us the placid river is dark and thick. I grab an oar and soon discover that paddling does not come to me naturally. The kayak jerks with false starts. It’s quiet, the river wide and slow, complacent in its pen of lush vegetation. We paddle after our guide who is loaded down with bananas for the monkeys.
The monkeys arrive from nowhere. One head appears from amidst the trees and others pop into sight behind the first. Within minutes they are all overhead. The first one, who is much larger than the others, appears to be the leader. While the smaller monkeys hang back, the leader jumps down, plopping onto the guide’s boat. He bares his teeth and charges for the bananas. The guide holds him back with his paddle but this primate version of the godfather isn’t deterred. To our horror the guide gently smacks the monkey with his paddle. The guide stands and the kayak shifts, water rippling ominously, as the monkey charges again and we don’t know if we should intercede. But it’s soon apparent that this is a dance the two, monkey and man, have had many times before. And the primate soon grabs an overhead branch and swings upward. This seems to be the cue for the smaller monkeys. Agilely they balance amidst slender branches and dangle mid air before plopping onto our guide’s kayak. They’re all playful as they jostle each other. The guide feeds them bananas and offers none to us. He explains, as we’ve already witnessed, that it’s too dangerous. So we take pictures of the monkey’s antics instead. Overhead we glance up and meet the watchful eyes of the patriarch.

Soon the peace is disturbed as another monkey makes an appearance. A female obviously monkey matriarch, as she too, is bigger than the others. She lands in our guide’s kayak and explodes into action as she screeches and chatters, attacking one small monkey and then turning on another. Snarls and screeches combine with the guide’s shouting. The kayak rocks as the monkey’s scramble away from both the angry female and the guide’s swinging paddle. As the female drives into one monkey snarling and baring her teeth, he edges further and further away and closer to the edge of the kayak.

I’m horrified when the small monkey dives off the boat. I’m amazed when the female dives in the water after him. They spin under water and wrestle end over end before resurfacing near shore, scrambling out and shaking like dogs. Now that I see they can swim and seem to love it, I’m enthralled. This is obviously a ritual and no one has been hurt. More monkeys are diving into the water from the trees. They swim and playfully wrestle as they successfully get more bananas, hanging onto the guide’s kayak or scrambling back in.

One monkey crawls into our kayak. I’ve never been this close to a primate and am amazed at his little hand with its human-like nails. He glances at us and upwards to the trees and I realize that our craft is too far from a tree for him to jump. So we paddle to an overhanging branch and the monkey gives one last look before leaping into the trees.

With the bananas gone, the monkeys quickly disappear. After that our voyage became a peaceful journey into a canyon of limestone cliffs. The foliage is so dense that the sun is muted and sometimes blocked as we continue along a river that has hollowed its way through rock as it heads to the nearby ocean. Soon we enter the caves where the water has carved ancient pathways and where, in places the rock comes within only a few feet of meeting the water. From a paddling novice, I became skilled at paddling half hunched over, ducking the low rock ceiling.

The journey ends at the ocean. There, our longboat appears and the kayaks are tied behind as we return via a different route. Here the river is wider and faster flowing. There are no monkeys, no caves. But it really doesn’t matter. Sunburned and happily exhausted, we lean back and watch the scenery, and reflect on an exceptional afternoon in Thailand. Unlike anything James Bond could have thought up but in our minds so much better.

Children, Cream Cans and Trains

The story I was told today was about children, cream cans and trains. The trains were vital to the province back then. They ran through almost every small town picking up produce and bringing in commercial goods as well as being one of the main sources of passenger transport. Often the train came through town at night. But not all towns had crossings or even electric light.
At the age of nine or ten it was the job of the local store owner's children to flag the train down. They would set a kerosene lantern by the track to let the engineer know there was a pickup. Unfortunately, the lantern was small and by the time it was spotted the train would usually overshoot the stop. Because the cream cans were too heavy to lift, the children often worked in pairs and dragged the cans to the train. When they reached the train it was usually at a full stop or moving slowly and someone would reach down with a hook and pull the cans into the train. Back then, no one thought that it might be dangerous or too much for children of that age to drag heavy cans in the dark to slowly moving trains. I'm not too sure what people would think now. It really was a different world then.

“Playing?” She wrinkled her nose. “Who would clear the field?”

Maggie Edwards "From the Dust"

Safe travels

Ryshia

Three Days and From the Dust is Released!!

On December 1, 2007 - "From the Dust" will be officially released.

More than a love story. More than history. Read about life on a Saskatchewan farm in 1935. Cheer on our two combatants Tate and Eva. Who will get the farm? Who will leave and who will stay? Or will passion win out? Will they fall in love?

You can pick up your copy at almost any online bookstore; Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books a Million, Target and read the story of Eva and Tate as they meant it to be told. McNally Robinson will also carry it as well as Greenwood's in Edmonton and Book and Briar in Regina. Speaking of which if you're in Regina you can come on down to Book and Briar on December 14 and chat with me between 7:00 and 9:00. You'll get a free coffee and a bookmark for your trouble. And if you're in the buying mood a signed copy of From the Dust!

There, that's it for me and promo. Soon it will be on to our regularly scheduled programming. There have been a few glitches of late - I wanted to add music to the blog but that has taken more time then I realized it would and, well the music is still in the queue. Some of my interviews were cancelled as it is flu season here in Saskatchewan. There were quite a few ugly bugs going around. I'm happy to say that although I had to cancel pending interviews because of the flu, they're all feeling better and I hope to write a few more interviews. Especially because one spry 90 something was very excited to be included. He'd be devestated if I don't interview him and have his words appear in print for all of you.

Until later.

Dream big and travel safe.

Ryshia

Who Said a Cow Isn't a Pet?

One spunky lady I interviewed had a tough childhood growing up in the thirties. She plowed the fields, tended the animals and quit school, like so many did, when she was barely a teenager. But she always had her pets. They might have been considered livestock but to her they were friends.



First there was Baby, a calf who she fed daily and who eventually learned to jump into the grainery after her so that it could get the best feed of the herd. The calf continued to follow her everywhere even after it was full grown. When the cows were herded in at night, Baby hung behind and walked beside the girl. If any of the dogs dared to walk anywhere near "her girl", the cow chased them away. Baby was the best milk cow they had and for that reason one day she was sold to a local farmer. Neither the girl or the cow ever got over that. The cow's milk production decreased significantly and the girl, well she still talks about the cow called Baby who was her friend and companion through some tough years in her young life.


Well, if the cow didn't work out you just have to move on. So then came the colt. So many years later my companion doesn't remember the colt's name but what she does remember is that she snuck sugar to it daily. The colt began to look forward to this and expect its daily treat. One day she was busy in the kitchen and hadn't had a chance to feed the colt its treat. The colt got tired of waiting and came up the porch steps and right through the screen door. It ended up standing in the middle of the kitchen looking calmly around for its sugar handout.



And then came Nellie. Nellie was an obstinant creature. An unrideable horse that had to be wrestled with to do the most basic duties like pull a plow. Obviously a challenge for any animal lover. "So," she says and only the wrinkles in her face give away her age, "I set out to train the horse." Nellie let her up on its back, kicking a bit before settling down. They rode along for a few minutes until the horse arrived at the appropriate destination. The slough. And that's where she was thrown off. When she arrived home, soaking wet and muddy her Dad took one look and said, "Nellie."



Who said a horse doesn't have a sense of humor?

She ran a hand along the cow’s tough hide. “Men are nothing but trouble, Ingrid. Do you know that?" Eva Edwards - From the Dust


Safe travels


Ryshia