Carrie Marshall

Spend a day walking around Harajuku and you’ll get more than you ever need for a gaggle of sights. Harajuku is well-known for its boutiques and bistros; famous for its Harajuku Kids and Cos-play-zoku aka The Costume Play Gang, a day spent here is a day in voyeur’s paradise.

You can check out my Harajuku Photo Journal at My Several Worlds

We just spent three days in Halong Bay. It was a great trip although I’ve kept saying my golden rule to myself over and over again.

When traveling, always expect the unexpected.

Nothing says it better than this. Our overnight train ride took us from beautiful Nha Trang to Hanoi in twenty-four hours. We made our way to Vicky and Jason’s hotel at 5am, dead-tired and travel-stained. We were able to check in for a few hours to shower and switch packs and then jumped on a bus at 8am, which took us directly to Halong City.

As usual, traveling in Asia always means traveling on a loose time frame. We interspersed our boat trip with a lot of extra waiting around. I’ve found that a pack of cards has become essential when traveling in Asia. Fifteen minutes can easily turn into an hour or two on an Asian timeclock.

Halong Bay is spectacalar. We explored some caves and then spent an evening on Cat Ba Island. We spent a day sea-kayaking and then boarded an old-fashioned junk boat for the night.

This morning brought a surprise. We were unceremoniously dumped off on the island with assurances that our guide would be along shortly to escort us back to Halong City. As we watched the other boats leave, we all became a little uneasy when we realised we were the only ones on the pier with no one else in sight.

A few minutes later, we were approached by a Vietnamese fisherman who informed us there were no other boats coming. They had left us behind and we were out in the middle of nowhere. After some quick thinking and some helpful advice from some locals and the police, we jumped on motorcycles with all our gear and sped the 30km back into the village. We were pretty angry, but the tour group rectified everything right away. They served us a huge meal free of charge and booked us on a high speed boat back to the port in Halong City. From there, we were ushered onto a deluxe bus for the rest of the journey.

In all honesty, we traveled back better than we traveled there. We arrived an hour or two later than we had planned, but we’re here and that’s all that counts.

We found him on the dirty streets of Phnom Penh, just off of Sisowath Quay. He was dressed in rags and sucking on discarded satay sticks from the gutter. He crouched, like a small animal, mournful brown eyes gazing hungrily as we passed by. He raised his fingers to his mouth, never uttering a word. He stood up and silently fell in line behind us, a small, wraith-like figure in the folds of the dark sky.

As we entered a small convenience store, he pressed his nose up against the glass. His grubby fingers left streaky brown spots on the glass. The shop owners chased him back to the street with brooms. We stood inside the small shop and wondered what to do. Did he have a street boss? If so, we knew he wouldn’t receive a single penny we gave him, so we opted to buy him some apple juice, cheese and crackers. It was a pitiful dinner and we felt horrible as we lumbered outside and solemnly handed our purchases to him. A fleeting look of thanks crossed his face and then fear. His head darted around quickly, as though looking for someone and then he scampered off into the black night. We wondered where this small, innocent child would rest his head this evening.

The next morning, he was waiting for us when we stepped out of our hotel. He is such a smart little boy, to know instinctively that we are bleeding hearts. There are so few of us left. We couldn’t turn our eyes. We started trudging up the street and found a small, shaded restaurant. He sat down in the gutter and watched us closely. His heavy flannel shirt stuck to his skin in the heat of the morning. His tattered shorts hung from his thin frame. We could hardly bare it.

We invited him to join us. He crawled to our table on all fours, like a dog that has been beaten. We quickly stood and helped him stand. He clambered up onto the big chair and sat quietly. Scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh orange juice and bread were placed in front of him and he valiantly tried to use his fork and knife. He dabbed his napkin at his mouth and tried to clean his hands before eating his bread while I helped him cut his food. We struggled to eat our meals, all of us self-conciously aware of our health and robustness. In the end, each of us left food on our plates, which we packed into a bag for him for later. A quick thank-you and he slipped away into the morning crowds.

We saw him again later that evening. He was precariously clinging to the back of a tuk-tuk. His bare feet pounded the hot asphalt as he hitched a ride to God knows where. We thought we had seen the last of him, and each of us silently said a prayer for him. Nevertheless, we saved our food for him, just in case. Just as we were getting ready to enter our hotel, we saw him emerge from a dark alley with a friend. We bought some more apple juice and crackers for them. We hoped that somehow this might fortify him for another twenty-four hours, each of us wondering when he would get his next meal. He accepted it gratefully, and his lips pulled back slightly. It was the sorriest excuse for a smile I have ever seen, yet a smile nonetheless. As he walked off down the street, we waved good-bye as he looked back over his shoulder. A flash of teeth and the night swallowed him whole.

His name is Jack. He’s ten years old.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”Martin Luther King

When we arrived in Phnom Penh, I could barely keep my eyes from closing. One glimpse and you will never be ordinary again. I feel guilty for what I have. I feel guilty to have the freedom to go where I please and move as I want. Last night, I saw bare-bottomed babies sitting in the gutters. I saw war amputees and mothers begging with babies lying listlessly in their arms. Everywhere I look, I see rich Westerners staying in five star hotels and averting their gaze from the destitute that line the streets. I won’t close my eyes to this. I’ve told John to hold on to all the money, because I’d probably give it all away. Everyone needs help here. We’ve limited ourselves to one person a day, but the choices are difficult. Who do we give to? Who is most needy? How can we be the judges? Last night, we ate while little children sat in rags on the street. I couldn’t finish my meal and gave the rest of mine to them.

I am stuck on Laos. It’s quite possibly one of the nicest countries I’ve ever been to. The people are friendly and hospitable. The scenery is untouched and unspoiled. The never-ending range of activities will keep you occupied for weeks. We’re both itching to go back to this captivating country.

We have been told by several travelers on every trip we’ve embarked on over the past two years that Vang Vieng is a MUST if you are traveling to Laos. Naturally, I was captivated by the idea of spending my time in this small riverside village, where, I was told, there would be a barrage of daily eco-friendly tours and activities all waiting for me.

And it was everything we thought it would be. We went caving and hiking. We rented motorbikes and hunted for fresh water pools to swim in. We indulged in mouth-watering dishes and sucked back giant bottles of BeerLao, but the absolute best part of Vang Vieng, and I’m sure any traveler will agree, is the river tubing.

Seven dollars can take you a long way for the day in Laos. We rented our inner tubes in town and were taken to the mouth of a swift moving river several kilometers outside of town. The fast moving currents swept us downstream and once we rounded our first bend, we were in heaven.

It took us six hours to make our way down river. We couldn’t help stopping at all the mini-bars set up on the riverbanks. Each bar had zip-lines, trapeze bars and swings that released far out over the river. We stopped at each one. We swam, had a dunk and washed it all away with beers. By the time we arrived back in town, we were tired, but deliriously happy. So happy in fact, we did the same thing three days in a row.

Traveling is what you make it. We spent six weeks on the road in Asia. Some of that time was really harsh and some of it was a blast. I think every traveler needs a mix of good and bad experiences to really make a journey worthwhile. Cambodia was completely off the rails. Vietnam was an intriguing mix of old and new worlds colliding. Loas was relaxed, upbeat and completely out of this world. Asia is a diverse, wonderfully challenging and completely captivating experience. Don’t miss it.

I had a fantastic time at the Plain of Jars in Phonsavon, Laos. We spent three days there. Phonsavon reminds me of the Wild West. It’s very quiet and small. You can practically see the dustballs rolling down main street.

We hired a guide for the day and we had a private driver for a week. Our driver drove us from Luang Prabang to Phonsavon and then we went on to Vang Vieng. It was a terrific way to see Laos.

I’ve heard that most travelers think the Plain of Jars is boring, but I found it fascinating. In addition to walking through the fields, we were able to explore some caves in the area that once sheltered residents during the war.

We had to stay on a marked path and were told not to wander too far away for fear of buried bombs exploding underneath our feet. As we were walking, we could see bombs exploding in the distance. It was all the warning I needed.

Our guide told us that the area is going to be made into a World Heritage Site. The landscape is breath-taking with rolling green hills and cattle grazing in the distance. It was a terrific journey and one that I would gladly make again.

168 Japanese Hot Pot Restaurant is one of our favorite places to dine in Shu-lin. I don’t know what the real name is. We just call it 168 because it costs 168NT ($5US) all you can eat and we love it.

168 is a rather unique place to eat. It’s painted bright yellow, with mirrors on all the walls, which makes it look much bigger than it actually is. It’s always crowded and we usually have to wait 20 minutes to get a seat. Everyone sits on stools in front of a long conveyor belt.

A large pot of steaming broth is set in front of you and the conveyor belt is loaded with Taiwanese pastries, tofu, various cuts of meat and seafish. You can stock up on veggies at the front of the restaurant. Food is placed in the pot and boiled until cooked, then it’s dipped in a mixture of soy sauce, mashed garlic and hot peppers for flavor. It’s wonderful!

I love FE21. It’s a wonderful department store in Banciao that boasts a real Western grocery store (the closest to our home without going to Taipei) and it has all my favorite brands from back home. It’s a nice place to go and people watch or browse when you want to spend the evening out.

Wanhua is a small city located just outside of Taipei City. It’s a lovely little place by day, and lights up the sky at night with its lantern displays.

One of the things I love about Taiwan are the numerous temples waiting to be discovered. We found this one completely by accident and were lucky enough to come across it while it was in the midst of a Taoist Street Festival. Like all Taoist temples, it’s richly decorated with images of folk gods, dragons, lanterns, fairies and other ancient Chinese symbols meant to bring protection, good fortune and prosperity to worshippers.