Action In Relaxation

Yau (Yo),


I happened to land in Macau on the way to China (which I never reached *gotta save something for next time) because they don’t require tourist visas (vs. China’s $130 kick in the pants *wallet region, that is).  All I knew before arriving was casinos and baccarat.


Macau is fascinating.  It was historically a Portuguese colony that gained independence and is now the Vegas of Asia (gambling is illegal in China, Hong Kong, and most other countries in the region).  Of the three major gambling epicenters (Vegas, Dubai, Macau) Macau is the only one with a history (beyond explosive mafia/oasis growth out of a desert), and thus an actual culture.   The public signs and language are generally Mandarin or Cantonese but every once in a while you’ll get a Portuguese curveball that just makes you wonder.


I’m pretty fascinated about Portugal in general: this small country that has stood it’s ground (and valuable coastline) for centuries, while sitting next to one of the historically biggest superpowers of the developing world (Spain/Spanish Armada); and on top of that, they have a giant chunk of South America (Brazil) and had established colonies in the most random places (Macao, next to dynasties of Chinese giants).  Enough history speculation…Wake up!


The layout is a combination of an old world Portuguese skeleton with a technological, bustling, and abundant oriental life-blood.  It has beautiful Portuguese cobblestone squares connected by busy Asian streets (that go around, under, and under under), crowded markets, and dense residential alleyways.  Fascinating really.


I was still cruising solo and spent much of my time:


• shooting hipster photos (returning the favor for all the Asian tourists w/ cameras around their neck in the US)


• trying to communicate and make jokes in a new language


• stumbling upon outdoor exercise equipment and Portuguese strongholds


• eating curry monster and drinking Milktea


• playing Futsal in someone else’s very small shoes (one mans trash…)


• jumping bungy


I just pretty much explained all my photos just now so there’s no need to look at them.  Maybe next post.


Cheers,


Tyler


P.s. Macau Tower Bungy – I did jump the largest *commercial bungy in the world. 233 meters.  It was an incredible experience, the city was breathtaking at night, and the jump was also breathtaking itself; but I have mixed feelings about doing it alone.  To put you in my frame of mind, I had just played 3 hours of futsal and was pretty out of energy/adrenaline.  I arrived at the bungy, that I previously signed up for during the day, and they strapped me up, took some photos and said, “Ok, jump”, and I did.  The anticipation was…uneventful.  It was scary because I hadn’t seen anybody jump before me (unlike the Nevis), but it was mellow because I didn’t even have a companion or the time to psyche myself up or out or over or under or down.  I’d do it again, but with someone, someone who had a good scream or jittery hands or a wild giggle or crazy eyes.  So if you have crazy eyes, real googlie/shifty ones, lets bungy jump the Macau tower together.


P.p.s. The word of this post is “fascinating”.  If you hadn’t noticed.

Cat Ba Bicycle Fall from Tyler Elick on Vimeo.


Jason bails while bicycling on Cat Ba Island in Halong Bay, Vietnam. He also happens to be holding a camera the whole time. We kept the colorful language clean with the help of a wonderful voice-over guy.

Text-based Travel Mates,


Indonesia part 2, so much to write about…All I can write to (re)introduce this place is…wow, this country really has a place in my heart/mind/future.


After the boat trip, us “Colorado Boyz” returned with the rest of the STN crew to Kuta Beach, Bali. Kuta is the biggest tourist town in Bali and amidst the chaos of scooters, surfers, tourists, and American restaurant chains (Pizza Hut, Hard Rock Café, McDonalds), Kuta felt like home. This homeliness was largely based on the relationships with local people that were built through consistent interaction including: morning fruit purchases of Mangosteen and Passionfruit (Pudu and Pudri), surf hoots and hollers followed by soccer kickaround sessions, bizaar/fun/loving/smartass comments to local vendors, and chickenfighting/airplane/jungle gym/wrestle sessions with local rascalmonkey kids. Kuta highlights include:


* Circus on The Beach night that included a 5 level human pyramid that consequently inspired a $5, 1.5 hour, full body massage


* STN banquet with local cuisine, friendly guests, and Balinese dancers how loved to pose for 2+ hours of photos with kooky surfer tourists


* Day trip to Ubud monkey temple, where Kevin “young hercules” Sweeny got his bag of 30 Bananas snatched by a 2.5 foot tall 35 pound toothy snarly gremlin (a mere 2 minutes after purchasing them outside the temple) to which he responded in pure fear and prancing excitement


* Incredible 5 star, $8 dinners at TJ’s Mexican food and The Balcony where favorite dishes were sampled, loved, shared, and repeated following nights…Chili’s eat your heart out (and then charge me $15).


* Scooter chaos: picture thousands of people playing a game of transportation charades, who have just pulled the action card of “fish swimming through a tunnel”


You have now earned the right to look at our pictures from Kuta, thanks for reading!

From Kuta, 8 of us stragglers stayed in Bali while our friends returned to Hawaii, Sweden, Bangladesh, California, and Florida. We decided to take our show on the road and head to Uluwatu (30 minutes south of Kuta), soon to be known as Paradise or Shangri-La or El Dorado or Nirvana or Heaven (depending on your religion/ethinic background/cultural upbringing/sensitivity level). All of you who weren’t completely offended and are actually still reading, Uluwatu is indescribable, it is __________.


We stayed at a homestay called Thomas’ that fed us meals of our choosing and gave us a temporary palace (without a/c, or warm water) overlooking completely transparent water, 3 world-class surf breaks (Uluwatu, Pedang Pedang, and Bingin), and a local laidback vibe where worries (and Blackberries) have never existed. At night, this view lost nothing with an unadultured night sky mirrored by hundreds of gleaming fishing boats, and our lovely addition of night-time festivites that included: a guitar and water jug jam session, freestyle battle, freestyle game of “Sit Down!”, and of course the game of Farkle.


That should be enough to introduce these photos, please enjoy (if you don’t you should probably go to the doctor)


Colorado Island Boyz,
Tyler, Ryan, and Jason

Patient friends,


So much has happened in the last three weeks that I’ll be writing about Indonesia in 2 doses (just to keep you wanting a bit more after this email). The first portion of our trip was spent with Surfing the Nations, a humanitarian Christian organization based on the North Shore of Oahu Hawaii. To learn more check em out at www.SurfingTheNations.com, they are a group of truly amazing people with a very unique perspective and purpose (that’s my plug).


Jason and I started our journey from Kuala Lumpur to Bali with a delayed Air Asia (yuck!) flight and late arrival to Bali (10pm). We followed Ryan’s prescriptive directions , and arrived to his welcoming screams, hoots, and hollers of joy to finally have his travel companions join him, rather than follow in his footsteps (if this sentence doesn’t make sense please read the last post where Jason and I missed our Australia flight and subsequent Kuala Lumpur arrival to meet Ryan).


The details of the STN boat trip were vague so we set off with what little knowledge we had; a street name “Poppies One” and the name of the hotel “Ayu Beach” that the STN crew MIGHT be staying at. After a good hour and a half of Indonesian scavenger hunting, which included the random yelling of our contact’s names “Chris Rehrer! Tom Bauer!”, we stumbled upon our 4th hotel of the night to be greeted by Tom Bauer (picture a flowing white haired Moses in boardshorts). Upon our late arrival we were welcomed as one of the family and informed that the boat trip was leaving the next morning at 7am; what a close call, whew!


The Surfing the Nations group was comprised of charging Hawaiian loc dogs (shoots!), crazy fun and hilarious Swedes, smiling and occasionally biting Bangladesh boys, laidback Californians, eager Floridans who only know how to surf Hurricanes, and us landlocked “Colorado Boyz”. The group was about 50 people distributed between 4 boats, where you live/play/eat/sleep/dance/jazzercise/jam session/scope/swim/and overall enjoy the paradise that Indonesia so naturally provides. Our boat was the guys boat, rightfully named the Coconut Boat. Through the seven days there were many activities, places, and events that can be much more efficiently addressed in a list so enjoy my efficiency/laziness as I number the days:


1: Leave in afternoon, go to nearby island Noosa Lombongan and surf Shipwrecks at sunset, learn to jump off boat with surfboard and catch first wave in Indonesia a 3-4 foot mellow and peeling right, “Welcome to Indo”


2:Arrive in Lombok and surf Desert Point which is small and full of longboarders and party waves. Evening jam session with Jason, Ryan, and myself including reggae riffs on the guitar and freestyle lyrics. Including a fiberglass boat roof that imposed an uncomfortable late night itch followed by a 3am shower.


3:Lombok in morning with bigger surf at Desert Point, tiring swims in the ripping current to access flips and backflops off of our neighboring boat. Gili Island in the afternoon which included soccer with the local kids and walking the island with a couple of them (Harry, Danny “ladies man”, and Johnny) who scaled 30 ft coconut trees for us to enjoy as a refreshing beverage to compliment our island sunset; I really wish I had a camera for this moment (this is what traveling is all about, enjoying the locals lifestyle and connecting with people)


4: Sumbawa Island where we cliffed jumped in beautiful Yoyo’s cove and I performed my 2nd wonderful backflop off a rather high cliff. I was a little out of it for the rest of this day while we sailed to Scar Reef, but do remember night time when the always optimistic and radical Alan found an 8 foot poisonous sea snake in his bed. Upon our discovery and congegration, our boat’s noise was overcome by the sound of roman candles firing double-fisted off a neighboring boat, which was reprimanded by the 3rd of 8 shots and was followed with the phrase “I can’t stop em, I can’t stop em” (hilarious, thanks Tyler Bitner). Ryan also happened to comment that the surf had been so mellow and relaxing that STN should be Stoneskipping the Nations.


5: Swell hits Scar Reef and turns on a wave machine that produces constant lines of 14-18 foot reeling and hollow “bombs” that you could easily drive a VW bug through. It was amazing to witness these waves and the crazies that tamed them it; this was also a full celebration of Jason’s 23rd birthday which also included a baby bird feeding of Chris Rehrer and a reggae dub man-choir version of happy birthday that Jason called “my best happy birthday song ever!”


6: Scar Reef is still pumping in the morning and I decided to muster the courage and commitment to charge after one of these monsters. After much contemplation I dropped in on a solid 10-12 foot set wave, planted my feet while racing down the face of the wave, and was suddenly “closed out” on my bottom turn and instantly thrown into the most powerful whitewash I’ve experienced (like an American 110volt washing machine plugged into a 240volt international plug and set on the “angry” setting). After multiple flips, spins, and the powerful muffled roar I found myself inside for 5 more set waves, sitting a mere foot above jagged reef, humbled and powered by the comradery that Chris was also stuck inside with me (misery definitely loves company, which also suppresses the onset of panic). It was a great event and intense experience and in the words of Chris, “awesome” (no he’s not a sadist, it truly was amazing to experience, although I’d rather make the wave and not do it again).


7: Commute back to our port and enjoy the rolling ocean and times shared through music, surfing, soccer, hanging with locals, and living life to the fullest.


I’m getting too wordy with this email and will now direct you to the pictures; or if you’re like me, you scanned this email, realized it’s long and you’ll read it later (which you won’t) and will go straight to the photos below.


We are alive (fully) and breathing (sometimes underwater). Thanks for caring,


Tyler, Jason, and Ryan (our latest addition, aka. “Newbie, New Guy, and Wolfie”, honestly he’s never known by any of those names)


SAME PICS AS BELOW/BEFORE

I’m having too much fun in Indonesia to write a thoughful/funny/time consuming email blast. I’ll write next week when we return to Malaysia. We did return from our Surfing the Nations Indonesian boat surf trip (Bali to Nusa Lembongan to Gili Island to Lombok, to Sumbawa and circling back in reverse order) safely and have posted the first set of photos. Enjoy for the time being, because this is all you’re going to get! Patience is virtue…


Off to surf,


Tyler, Jason, and Ryan (our new addition)

Vicarious Travel Team,


Tyler has passed on the torch this week to me (Jason) to do the writing. He’s currently engrossed in a cricket match on T.V.


If I could sum up the south island of New Zealand in one word it would be COLD! The city we flew into, Christchurch is one of the main takeoff points for travelers headed to Antarctic. Luckily, Tyler and I planned ahead while on the North Island and wrangled a few sheep to create some fashionable woolen coats.


My buddy Ian Calder who I met while studying abroad in Christchurch was there to meet us at the airport in the classic Kiwi dress of short rugby shorts, socks, and jandals (kiwi for Japanese sandals). Before we knew it we were on the move for the west coast for a stag-do (bachelor party in kiwi language). You might think it’d be awkward to show up at a bachelor party for some guy that you don’t even know (cause we thought the same thing), but New Zealanders are very friendly and before we knew it we were in the middle of more games than we knew what to do with: touch rugby, basketball, jailbreak, american football, circus, knee rugby, bobbing for apples, obstacle courses, and Tyler’s favorite: a game that involved chocolate, a stocking cap, dice, a fork and a knife, and a giant pair of women’s panties. {“This is a lie, knee rugby was my favorite, because team USA went undefeated for at least 8 games in a row, until we collapsed out of exhaustion. USA! USA! USA!” – T}


Tyler and I were beginning to miss the campervan lifestyle, so we rented a campervan, this time including Ian on the deal, and headed south down to Queenstown to try to catch a large winter festival that was on that week. Queenstown is a mecca for adrenaline enthusiasts, so Tyler got to work skiing with his new friends and doing one of the largest bungy jumps in the world, The Nevis.


Deciding that sleeping three in a small campervan was a little tight, Ian and I stuck out our thumbs and hitch hiked south to stay with another old friend at Milford Sound in the fjord lands. Not knowing how the hitching would go we wrote up our wills and said our last goodbyes to Tyler. I’m not sure if it was my or Ian’s good looks, but we made it down and back in a flash with the help of a few other friendly travelers. Milford Sound was incredible but the views were outdone by the fully stocked kitchen that we had free access to through our friend. Spending 6 hours in the kitchen our first night may have been little overboard, but we didn’t care.


{One highlight and quick story from Tyler – I ended up meeting and staying with one of the coolest married couples in the world, the Hazledines, in Queenstown and having a complete blast. On Saturday we all went skiing and Sam and I competed in a Winterfest activity called the “Dash for Cash”; a 50m footrace followed by a Chinese Downhill ski, concluded by a 50m uphill and 50m downhill footrace. The trash talking had been consistent for the few days that lead up to this race and Sam and I decided on a side bet to top the race prize money. Our deal was if he beat me in the race, I’d have to mow their lawn (in the middle of their freezing and frosty winter), and if I beat him, he would eat some chicken (he is a hardcore vegan and dryheaves at the thought of chicken). The odds were way against Team America because the Kiwi in Kiwi (check out sam’s all green jumpsuit) was last year’s reigning champ, but I did have all the founding fathers on my side (given it was July 4th) which gave me more than enough confidence. Sam and I both got a poor start in the beginning of the race which put us in the disappointing middle of the pack. During the ski, we were able to bomb past some competitors (especially Sam who shot over 100 feet off the cat-track to the bottom portion of the course) and made some headway. On the final leg of the course, I was running directly behind sam and we were about 6th and 7th; Sam had started to give up because the prize money was well out of reach; but because I was behind him, I remembered our side bet and fully dove for the finish line to victory (over Sam). I then gloated, lit fireworks, did pullups, chanted USA, USA, USA, and rubbed in my victory as much as possible while sam ate his chicken drumstick; just as any other responsible ambassador of the United States would do in this situation. Great times}


There are many many stories in between and after these events and we’ll let the pictures do the talking.


Much love and adventures,


J & T