The Journey

You’ve probably heard the expression “it’s about the journey, not the destination”. In the case of RV travel, those words have never been more true. 

Time slows down on the road - not necessarily by choice but because it takes forever to do every little thing. Navigating a parking lot takes extra time in order to find the wide turn openings. Windy roads are driven at a snail’s pace. A 2-hour leg of the trip takes 5 due to an hour of stand-still traffic on a 2-lane road, yet another stop at Walmart for supplies, and then lunch (2 stops because we can’t all agree on one fast food restaurant).

Leaving our campsite means unplugging and unhooking hoses, locking down loose items, and closing up the pop-out wall. And then we have to find parking for our 27-foot vehicle wherever we go.

It’s a process. But that was the point.

There’s no hurry to get anywhere. The Grand Canyon will still be there when we arrive (ideally before dark so we can find our campground). In the meantime, there’s plenty to see and do along the way. The table setup in the RV allows for hours of card games. We celebrate every time we avoid hitting something on a tight turn. Sometimes we read poetry and talk about philosophy (JK, the boys just spent 20 minutes talking about their nuts). And I can tell everyone was as excited as I was when I found the “Roadtrip Sing-a-long” playlist on Spotify, with karaoke-style lyrics!

The journey is happening the whole way. The destination is the icing on the cake.

The destination

Life Sabbatical

A couple of weeks after we finished our trip to Asia in 2019, I wrote my last blog post and set it aside, thinking I really had nothing else to write about in the day-to-day of our fairly typical life as a family of 5 in the suburbs. I regret that decision. Little did I know, a global pandemic would change the entire world just one year later. I wish I had written about that adventure, too, if for no other reason than I would remember more vividly how it felt and what we did. 

When I decided that our RV trip through Arizona would be a good reason to pick up the blog again, I opened up the site and found this draft post that I must have started soon after the pandemic started. I have no memory of writing this:

A little over a year ago, I started this blog to capture the memories and experiences of our 2-month sabbatical to Southeast Asia. From the first words I wrote, it also became my personal journal. Writing provided a release from the hard parts and a mindful confirmation of the great parts. Sharing it was my way to connect with my world at home.

Little did I know that we'd be embarking on another family adventure this year. It wasn't one that we planned, and it certainly isn't one that we hoped for, but here we are. Traveling through th

And then it stopped. Abruptly. The rest of the story just evaporating in the fog that has shrouded my memories of the last two years. And it seemed so perfectly fitting.

Some day I'll try to piece together my recollections of that period. While my experience was hardly as traumatic as it was for many, it was a time unlike any other and I'd like to preserve it somewhere. 

I started this blog because we were doing something special and I like to write. These last couple of years have shown me that, a) I still like to write, and b) all of it is special. So I'll keep writing it down - for me, for my kids, and for anyone who'd like a peek into my unfiltered musings on life.

Early days of homeschooling in March 2020

The Best

My family loves Day 1 of a vacation. Wherever we are and whatever we're doing, everything is "The Best". (This is not to be confused with Day Zero, travel day, which is hell on earth and only endured thanks to whatever chemicals in the brain repeatedly wipe out painful experiences such as childbirth and long days of air travel so that you keep doing it.)

Day 1 is the bliss. The reward of arriving to a new place after a long day. The delight in new mini bottles of shampoo. Crisp sheets and warm air and magnetic key cards and discovering that the TV has Netflix, and "look, there's a Bible in the drawer!". 

The start of this trip was no different. We arrived at our hotel late on Friday to enjoy a one-night stop before picking up our RV the following day to drive around Arizona and see the sites. In my mind, this was also the last time any of us was likely to take a shower for the next 5 days, so I was particularly delighted by the bath products. As usual, it didn't take long before "the best" was being thrown around. 

"This is the best hotel we've ever stayed in" (take that, Hualalai). 

"This is the best breakfast I've ever had" (we do love a breakfast buffet). 

"Look at that view!" (Tyler's first words upon waking up to the rising sun on the red rocks outside). This one especially fills my heart because I've so desperately wanted my kids to appreciate "the view" wherever we go, and they usually don't seem to notice. 

I like to think all of that excitement and positivity isn't so much about the hotel amenities as it is about the feeling - the feeling of anticipation for new adventures, of uninterrupted time together, of taking a break from the things that have been hard. 

For me, "the best" is watching them feel it. It's seeing Max's curiosity about a cactus (and then watching Tyler pick cactus needles out of his hair and clothes when he got too close). It's the pride on Max's face when he carried back 12 pieces of french toast from the breakfast buffet. Or the sound of them all laughing as Dylan destroyed the boys in a game of Uno.

Max vs. the cactus

I probably won't remember most of those little moments, and I certainly won't remember the shampoo brand at that hotel, but I bet we'll all look back and remember these days as some of "The Best".

Together.

A few weeks ago, Max and I stood on a little bamboo bridge overlooking a river in Laos and watched a flock of ducklings swim passed. He pointed them out to me and said "look, it's a family." "How do you know it's a family?", I asked him. "Because they're together", he said.

For 9 weeks, we took "together" to a new level. We travelled together, we ate together, we swam together, we experienced things together, and we just existed...together. More than anything else, that is what will anchor the memories of this trip for me. Elephants and snakes and villages and zip-lines were incredible as individual experiences, but it was the way we reinforced the nuts and bolts of our family that made the journey what it was.

We've been home for one week, and I've already seen how easy it is to fall into our familiar patterns and routines. Our day to day life doesn't allow for a lot of togetherness. Work days run into the dinner hour, sports schedules run into the bedtime hour, and social plans pull us all into different orbits that only sometimes intersect. Our lives are full of great things and people, but I am really missing the unscheduled and uninterrupted time we had on our trip. Even with the best of intentions, it's hard to recreate now that we're home.

I have realized that togetherness is going to take work. It's going to mean saying no to things we really want to do. It's going to make me feel like I'm letting other people down sometimes. It's going to mean people will have to wait longer for me to respond to their emails. It's going to mean pushing pause on my Netflix show to have a conversation, even when I've been talking to people all day long and just need to be quiet. And I have no doubt that all of the sacrifices and adjustments will be 100% worth it. Like those little ducklings in Laos, we just have to stick together.

Doing Time in Vietnam

I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I don't pay a lot of attention to history. If it happened longer than 10 minutes ago and wasn't reported in People magazine, chances are I'm not going to win that round of Trivial Pursuit. But when I go to a place where there is an important story about the people and culture, I like to know about that story.

I obviously knew a war took place involving America and Vietnam, but I couldn't have told you who we were fighting for or against and why. (I guarantee my dad and my Uncle Bill just let out simultaneous groans of disappointment as they were reading this). By the time we touched down in Hanoi after a 2 hour flight and a thorough Lonely Planet history lesson, I was feeling pretty dejected about what went down at the hands of America and a little bit nervous about how the people of Vietnam were feeling about that now. While I didn't have a chance to really dig into the national psyche with the locals, nobody egged us or called us names that we understood, so I took that as a good sign. What is clear from conversation, artwork and history itself is that the Vietnamese are incredibly resilient and proud of how hard they've fought centuries of invaders to finally claim their own land and government.

Hoa Lo Prison, aka "The Hanoi Hilton"

Given my aforementioned historical ignorance, I also didn't know much about the Hoa Lo Prison before we strolled in there. The prison was built by the French during their occupation in the late 1800s to show the Vietnamese revolutionaries who's boss. It was later used to imprison captured POWs, including John McCain, who spent more than 5 years there. It's the kind of place where you can feel the energy of torture and pain in the walls, similar to what I remember feeling when visiting concentration camps in Europe.

A prison cell at Hoa . Photo cred: Dylan

As we were looking at the photo of McCain's capture, an American man nearby started chatting with us. It turns out that his father was also a POW and spent 6 years at Hoa Lo. His first 22 months there were spent in isolation. 22 months in isolation. In a cell with no natural light with his feet shackled at one end, where the floor sloped downward so that his head was always filled with blood, an added layer of torture. These are things you can read about, I'm sure, but hearing it from the son of this man, while standing in the very place it happened, made the story of this prison and the war particularly vivid. He remembers being a 12-year old boy and finding out that his dad's plane had been shot down over a rice field. 6 years later, he found out his father was alive when he was released. He's spent a considerable part of his life researching and documenting the stories of the POWs at Hoa Lo. I don't know this man's name, but he left a deeper impression on my historical knowledge than any middle school history teacher I had.

The photo of McCain's capture

I have a feeling when my kids get to the lesson on the Vietnam War in school at some point, they're going to retain a lot more than I did, purely for having the sensory context of standing in the places that these events took place. They might even have the good sense to raise their hands and say something like "...actually, in Vietnam, they call it the American War".

What the Kids Noticed...
(Tyler) I was scared to look in the doors because I didn't know if there was a real skeleton or plastic. Any type of skeleton scares me except paper ones or fake ones. I was about to take a picture through the hole in a door and then I saw a head in the phone. It was so creepy. The prison is impossible to escape except some people did but they didn't tell us how. How did they get out of the door and into the sewer? I think they went into the sewer under their bed. Only really skinny guys could do it. I feel like the prisoners must have been bored and painful. Bored because there was nothing to do except talk and painful because their feet were trapped in a cuff most of the day.

The sewer that a handful of prisoners escaped through

(Dylan) We went to a prison. We saw statues of people in the prison. It looked painful. Some of the women had babies when they were in prison. They stayed in cuffs all day. They didn't get to eat a lot. They were very hungry. The prison guards did not treat them well. They had to dress in certain clothes and there were different types of clothes. They looked bored because they didn't have anything to do except talk to each other and lay down. It looked scary.

(Max) I saw the thing where they cut off your head (the guillotine). And on TV I saw a house that can explode (a display on Americans bombing Hanoi during the war). And we saw beds (where prisoners slept). There were people who escaped through an underground thing (a sewer). So basically people broke the bars and they escaped. The bars were kind of like fences.

Guillotine

The Lowdown on Laos (Sara)

I didn’t have many expectations for Laos before we arrived, so just about everything we experienced there was a very pleasant surprise. 

Getting There
From Chiang Rai, in the north of Thailand, we drove to the Lao border, crossed the Friendship bridge into Laos, and then boarded a boat that would take us down the Mekong River for 4 hours. The prospect of 4 hours on a boat with my kids was at first terrifying, but we were all excited by the boat itself, the scenery around us, and the journey overall. We’d cruise past fisherman on long skinny canoes, herds of water buffalo cooling off along the banks of the river, kids swimming and hints of village life up in the mountains. It was a first impression of peacefulness and a laid-back Lao life that would be seen throughout our time there.

Pakbeng
The boat ride ended in Pakbeng, a common stopping point for travelers on the slow boat en route to Luang Prabang. We were only there for a night, so the hotel was all we saw, but it also had that chill vibe, cold beers, and a beautiful view of the river and sun setting over the mountains.

Where we Stayed:
Sanctuary Pakbeng Lodge - Beautiful views, really nice lodge-like rooms with exposed timber beams and views of the river. This was the first time we realized there’s a french influence in Laos from the time it was French occupied, and there’s a certain level of formality in their service. Also, great baked goods in the morning for breakfast.

Muang La
The next morning, we continued our journey with a 3-hour drive to Muang La, further east into the mountains. Muang La is fairly remote and not somewhere i’d necessarily go on vacation, mostly because of the travel time required to get to and from. For the purpose of this trip as life experience and not just leisure travel I think it was worth it, even just for the experience of being in such a remote place and enduring a certain level of discomfort along the way. The roads in this part of the country are terrible. They wind around the mountains with steep unguarded drop-offs to the valley below, and most of the roads are unpaved or full of potholes from the brutal rainy season. We did half day excursions while we were there, first taking a hike to a waterfall, and then to visit some nearby villages. We had seen about 10 villages throughout Thailand and Laos by this point though, so we had pretty much lost interest in any cultural aspect of village life and focused entirely on seeking out the cutest animals we could find.

Where we Stayed:
Muang La Lodge - Another scenic lodge-like setting, this time situated on a shallow stretch of river containing pockets of natural hot springs. The hotel had a hot spring just outside it’s gates and would pump spring water into its enclosed hot tubs at the resort each day. The water was so hot that we could never go in it, but it was nice in concept. There was a bamboo bridge that crossed over to a small island where there was a pool and a family of goats. Water buffalo would wander down to the river in the morning or evening, and Lao kids would splash around on the river stones after coming home from school. After a couple of days, we took our cues from the locals and explored the river, stopping short of lathering up our hair and bathing there, which we saw some of the Lao girls doing. The food was exceptionally good and, again, there was a really nice European quality and sophistication in their guest services.

Luang Prabang 
From Muang La, it was a long drive, 2 separate legs on river boats (this time smaller and without beds to stretch out on), followed by another long drive to get us into Luang Prabang around 7pm. I would be happy to not repeat that kind of travel day again, with or without kids. But the prize at the end was a good one. Luang Prabang was another unexpected delight. It’s considered a large city in Laos, but feels more like a small town, with a bustling main street, bikeable roads, and a range of shops and restaurants from night market knick knacks to higher end fashion and textiles. This part of the trip ranked high on my all-time favorites and I would have loved to stay longer.

Where we Stayed:
Satri House - used to be the palace of a prince and definitely had a regal feel with a mix of colonial and Lao style in the rooms and grounds. It was a short walk to the main street in town, had free bikes that we made good use of, included a really nice breakfast, and on the last night we were there, a BABYSITTER! The only downside to this hotel was that every other person that stayed there was whisper quiet, so we got a lot of dirty looks for our high-volume approach to living.

What we Did:
Oct Pop Tok - This living crafts center was co-founded by 2 women, a Brit and a Lao, who wanted to create a sustainable and fair trade textile market. They now employ women from villages all over Lao, train them in new techniques, ensure they are compensated fairly for their trade, and educate the public on the art of textiles. And it really is an art. We learned about silk production, natural dye techniques, the loom, and designing the intricate patterns that are woven by hand for scarves, wall hangings, and bags. One of the founders, Jo, was our host for our visit, and the kids had an amazing time trying their hand at each step in the process.

Kuang Si Waterfall - The kids and I went here on our own because Jon was home with something that turned out to not be malaria (thankfully). The limestone rocks and brilliant blue color of the water looked like a movie set. It was GORGEOUS. It was also brimming with Chinese tourists, but the further up the levels of waterfall we went, the more it thinned out and you could really enjoy the majestic views. I’ve seen a lot of waterfalls on this trip, but this really stood out. Also, there’s a bear rehabilitation enclosure at the entrance to the park, so that was a fun added bonus.

Walking, Biking, Blessings, etc. - We loved wandering around this town, popping in and out of shops, strolling through the night market, biking in a fashion that would be considered unsafe and possibly illegal in America, and sprinkling in a few other cultural things, like a Baci ceremony in the home of a local family and giving alms to monks at sunrise. We also found a great coffee shop that served bagels with cream cheese, so that became our go-to lunch spot and a welcome break from Asian food.

Overall Impressions

Luang Prabang was a definite win. The first boat trip was an amazing journey and view into rural Laos. The travel in between was a little tough and we probably could have done without Muang La as an individual component of the trip, but when you add it all together, it created a really well-rounded experience and I feel like we got the most out of our time there.

Losing It. (Sara)

Yesterday, I hit a low point. At least I hope I did. I stood on a street corner and screamed at my kids for not wanting to take a walk. It's certainly not the only time I've yelled at someone on this trip, but it is the first time I did it publicly, loudly and with a slight frothing at the corners of my mouth. It's official: I need a break from my break.

In everyone's defense, and especially my own, the day before we spent 11 hours in cars and boats moving through remote parts of Laos to our next destination. There was a 2 hour car ride, followed by a boat, followed by another boat (because you have to switch boats at a dam), followed by a 3 hour drive to Luang Prabang. All of this without Wifi, I should add, in case that wasn't obvious. We all handled this journey remarkably well at the time, but what I didn't know was that we were all building up a combustible concoction of angst that added pressure like a soda can every time we hit a pothole on the wildly unkempt roads. So on this day, the mere suggestion of using their legs was enough to trigger the whine-fest that ensued. And that whining was all I needed to release my own pressure bomb in full view of some Lao women who didn't understand what I was saying, but nodded their heads in solidarity.

The first of many hours on the boat

Anyone could have seen it coming. Nobody should spend this much time with other humans. Especially small, mentally underdeveloped humans with limited impulse control and unpredictable reactions who need to eat every 2 hours. The responsibility I feel to parent them is enormous and, on this trip in particular, non-fucking-stop. We eat every meal together, so that's at least 3 times a day, times 3 children, that I say things like "put your napkin in your lap", "chew with your mouth closed", "get your feet off the chair", and "sit down sit down sit down sit down". And that's just eating. Imagine all that needs to be said when walking through crowded markets, across busy streets where traffic rules do not apply, swimming in pools where other people are trying to relax, learning how to interact with each other without leaving bruises, respecting thy parents, and let's not even get started on school work. Somewhere in my mind, I thought that having all of this together time would allow me to give them a crash course in manners and good behavior and churn out 3 perfectly charming and well-behaved little geniuses. In reality, none of them has showered in a week and we literally had to pry a sharp knife out of Max's hands last night as he was trying to saw a table in half. Either I am failing miserably or my expectations are way off. It's likely a combination of the two.

The good news is that I really like my husband. Two months together of nearly constant interaction is a risky move for any marriage, but he's the least annoying person I know and doesn't question me when I say things like "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back Thursday". And so instead I come back a couple of hours later, somewhat mentally refreshed, often with a bag full of retail therapy, and with the will to spend another day with my kids searching for a few minutes of mental solitude while answering questions, issuing directions, and breathing deeply. With 3 weeks left of travel, we might need to throw a little more money at babysitters, massages and wine to rekindle our best selves and power through the inevitable hard parts. There is still magic to be found in each day. I just need to be a little buzzed right now to see it.