The first day draws to a close...

We are all checked in to our bungalow. The place is a little old and smells kind of musty, but this is no doubt due to the extreme humidity of this island. As my mom in Florida always warns, "Wipe the shower, and turn on the fan. You don't want to get mold!" The view from our lanai is pretty excellent. We are maybe 15 ft from the water. The picture of Nicole was taken during a very brief moment of sun. It was overcast and rained the rest of the day, but we found it cozy in a way.

Due to the bad beach weather, we visited the island's only brewery, Matutu, and the picture here shows the entire brewery. It is literally in a shack. We went on a "tour" if you can call it that, but this just involved the owner getting into technical aspects of how he makes the two main company beers. And by technical, I mean, he aims for more or less 5% alcohol, but he admitted that some batches turn out different and they all get packaged the same. 

The beers themselves were ok. This picture shows me at dinner, embarrassed to be caught wearing the same outfit as my beverage. This particular beer tasted slightly like bananas at the brewery, but more like a Sam Adams at the restaurant we ate at. I guess the inconsistency is part of the island charm. For the first day, I think we made good use of our time considering the rain and grey skies. We are hoping to do a little bit of hiking tomorrow and maybe swim to our own motu (offshore island)!

We've Arrived!

It was an interesting past 24 hours-most of it spent on our Air New Zealand 767. We departed from LAX's new international terminal which is nice and open with high ceilings, numerous shops, and lots of places to eat. That being said, our actual gate was at the extreme end of the terminal in what resembled the back warehouse of an office depot. From there we got on a bus. From the bus we walked up a long concrete ramp, which then took us to the Jetway. Why have a Jetway when you walked outside and got on a bus? Look, I don't know.

Anyway, after departing close to 1am, dinner was served at 230am and we then attempted to sleep. Although both of us managed to nod off here and there, we woke up with neck pain and stiffness every few minutes.

Exiting the airplane was like a punch in the face with humidity. We decided to rent a car to have a bit more freedom. It should be noted, however, that the Cook Islands are more or less part of New Zealand, where they drive on the left. This took some getting used to since the car is layed out in a complete mirror image. Every time I tried to put on my signal, the wipers went on.

As it was still morning and our room was not ready, we had to kill some time and went to a small cafe. I ordered a BLT except it had pan fried chicken instead of bacon and mushrooms and cucumbers instead of tomatoes. I was informed there are currently no tomatoes on the island. We hope to check in soon and do some actual exploring.

Ready to go!

I don't know if the flippers will fit in my carry-on ...

Flashback to Hawai'i '06?

Remember when I lived in Hawai'i and one day it started raining? . . . and the sun didn't come out for another 44 days? This is the fear we have about our duration in the Cook Islands. I received an email from Air New Zealand this morning with the standard, "Get ready for your upcoming trip!" info such as flight times and a weather outlook. As you can see, things don't look great. My only hope is that, like many places in Hawai'i, it rains everyday, BUT it is also sunny every day. Weather on pacific islands is difficult to predict, so I'm really hoping we don't find ourselves stranded in our hut the whole trip whilst fighting off mosquitoes and malaria.

What's cookin'?

Has it really been almost two years since my last post? Traveling has been difficult the last year due to work schedules and availability. This does not mean that we have been completely grounded. In fact, last year we went to both Sacramento AND Omaha. That's right. Things got crazy!

Back in late November, while most people were in a frenzy at Best Buy or breaking into fights in Wal*Mart parking lots, Nicole was on the hunt for cheap airfare. She called me to let me know there was a crazy deal to the Cook Islands. At that time, I didn't know much about this place, or actually where it was. See map...

That being said, all I did was google image search "Cook Islands," and said, "Ok, let's book it." This was maybe the least amount of research I've ever done before booking a trip. These islands could be full of ebola . . . or ISIS . . . or headhunters! (See below)



You have to admit, those google image searches and the clip from 20,000 Leagues look awfully similar.

Of course, after doing just a little bit of research, we discovered that people do actually visit these islands as tourists. However, compared to nearby islands in the pacific such as Fiji, Tahiti, Hawaii, or Samoa, the Cook Islands receives the fewest visitors annually. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I guess we will find out soon enough. There are very few guidebooks or information online about the Cook Islands either. Unlike our previous trip to Europe, this is not one that received much planning. After all, there are no trains to catch, museums to visit, or vast distances to travel. The islands are small and we are both eager to explore them.

T-minus 13 days.

Reflections on Familiarity

When I started this blog over two years ago to document my trip to Southeast Asia, I capped off the trip with an extensive analysis on what I learned. The following year, I did the same for Greece. This year may actually prove to be the most challenging analysis because places like Paris and Amsterdam are hardly as exotic as the Mekong Delta. In a sense, that's what makes it interesting. As a traveler, western Europe is very "safe." You don't need to brush your teeth with bottled water or pop pepto-bismol before every questionable meal. Let's break each region down -- one by one.

As stated in the very first entry of this trip, I had been to Paris before, but never on my own. I had my parents to guide me through the metros, and more importantly, to pay for my food and admission to museums. For having such a sprawling network of subway and light rail lines, we were able to easily navigate the city. The advent of phone apps made this an extremely easy task. I didn't even need to carry a metro map with me, thus making us look that less touristy.

While I wouldn't claim to sound like a native-speaker, my french is pretty decent. I used it a fair amount while in Paris, and one of the most interesting things about France to me, is that nobody ever initiates in English (and this includes all the major tourist spots). Paris is probably in the top 5 international destinations for tourists, and one would think English would be the go-to language at these sites. Yet, despite my accent sounding more Milwaukee than Marseilles, there wasn't a single time in Paris that someone switched over to English to "help" me whether it be buying Versailles tickets, ordering a sandwich, or checking in to our hotel with my unfortunately German sounding last name. It's just an interesting cultural pride thing that seems unique to France. Obviously, it's their country and their language, so I can't fault them too much.

It wasn't long ago that Americans were wearing Canadian flag pins on their clothes in an attempt to lie low in countries like France. This seems to be an outdated perception of French attitudes toward us. They probably still think we're a bunch of idiots, but we seem to be far less obnoxious and rude in groups than the Eastern Europeans. Nobody was terribly friendly to us, but they weren't hostile either. That's pretty much like the entire northeast U.S.

Moving on to Belgium, I received a lesson on just how divided a tiny country can be. Wikipedia tells me Belgium is no bigger than the state of Maryland. While in Brussels, people spoke french, so I spoke french back. In fact, I probably used more french here than anywhere else, as I had to explain to numerous people that the ticketing machines for the tram weren't working. After a short (and emphasis on short) train ride from Brussels to Bruges, I assumed (incorrectly) that people would still be speaking French. I ordered a waffle from a small stand one morning and the worker immediately asked why I was speaking french. I wanted to ask what language I should be speaking, but rather than sound ignorant, I told him I was practicing. He responded by saying that people in Bruges know at least four different languages and that people in the south (aka 40 miles away) are too stupid to learn anything besides French. From then on, we just used English. Apparently they speak Flemish up north, which is like Dutch, but . . . different.

It was at this point in the trip, where we found out just how difficult it was to find a meal that didn't contain ham. This is something I hadn't noticed before on my trips to Europe. All joking aside, this was a legitimate problem. Compared to menus at restaurants in the U.S., Bruges, in particular, had the worst selection for food. While there were numerous restaurants, they all pretty much had the same over-priced, non-appetizing food. Belgium is known for mussels, and I am known for not liking such things, especially when they cost €30. The first night in Bruges, we ended up eating at an "Italian" restaurant. It's in quotes because, for unexplained reasons, European countries struggle with replicating food of their neighbors despite their close proximity. The moral of that story is that the pizza Nicole ordered had generous slices of ham on it. I found an online forum where someone had asked why people in Belgium/Lux./Netherlands eat so much pork, and the best response I found was, "There are other kinds of meat?" I guess it's just a regional preference. I thought maybe they had a strong pork lobby or something.

Rounding out the trip, we have Amsterdam -- a city known for legalized marijuana, legalized prostitution, and a penchant for ham. The trifecta of sin. While there was a lot of activity on the streets with drinking and smoking, it didn't seem to be a dangerous city. The city, in many aspects, was a bit of a disappointment though. It seemed that everyone I knew who had visited this city had wonderful things to say about it. The canal shown here kind of summarizes the unexpected views we were afforded. And perhaps part of our problem was that we had just come from Bruges -- another town with (much more photogenic) canals. My description above may make Amsterdam sound like hell on earth, but surprisingly enough, I did enjoy my time there. The day we rented bicycles was possibly my favorite day of the trip. It wasn't a particularly nice day in terms of weather or photography, but I felt that we were experiencing the city as Amsterdamers do. We biked to a park that probably few tourists know about. I ordered falafel from a stand and we played midget golf. Basically we spent the entire day with the Dutch as opposed to other tourists, and that's what made it unique.

All in all, we visited three very different places. The first is a major city full of countless things to see and do, the second is almost the opposite. Bruges doesn't necessarily have any sites, but the entire atmosphere of the town is special in that it gives you that feeling of being in Old Europe, as if you were in Epcot. And our final city was a cross between Portland, Venice, and Las Vegas: a deadly combination, but we were able to experience it safely. And that's what I always try and strive for in a trip -- to experience things as people in that country do. In Belgium, we dipped our fries in mayo instead of ketchup, in Paris I ordered a glass of red wine (the sacrifices I make), and in Amsterdam we used bikes as transport. (I bet you thought I was going to say we smoked a lot of pot. Hmph.) And let's not forget that we also ate lots of ham (no matter how hard we tried to avoid it). There are just some things they don't tell you in the guide books.

Last Night

After extensive research on yelp and tripadvisor, we ended up at an Irish pub for dinner. I had fish and chips and Nicole had a chicken pot pie with potatoes. Little did she know, the potatoes had bits of HAM in them! I am actually not making this up. It is like a cruel joke.




After that, we wandered a bit. We walked through De Wallen area, which is better known as being the Red Light District. There were, in fact, actual red lights. It's hard to imagine anyone actually being a customer, unless they are shameless enough to enter one of these places in front of a Chinese tour group. It's all very fascinating to see a place where prostitution is legal and essentially a tourist attraction. I guess it gets shadier when the sun goes down . . . which takes a while in the summer.




And that's that for Amsterdam. We are now packing and ensuring everything is set to go for our flight tomorrow. We fly to Newark, which should take us about 9 hours. We are both looking forward to a good, ham-less meal.

Location:Nieuwe Looiersdwarsstraat,Amsterdam,The Netherlands