Adventures of a GoodMan: Photography, Storytelling and World Travel by Greg Goodman » Transportation

Raw Footage of Riding the Rails in South San Francisco

Greg Goodman — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 17:00:18 +0000

As much as I love the beautiful drive, my favorite way of commuting between San Francisco and San Jose, California, is on CalTrain. Instead of fighting traffic or boredom, I can plop down in a nice comfy seat, take off my shoes, put my feat up and have some “me time.”

A CalTrain train at the San Francisco station

One day, I decided to just take my point and shoot and snap away as the train left San Francisco and headed through South San Francisco and onto the Penninsula. My battery didn’t last long, but what I did get was very telling of the disparity between downtown and the outskirts of the city.

This is my favorite of all the shots from CalTrain. All I see when I look at it is a big smiling face.

How did people document things without small cameras that have high definition video capabilities :) Below is a brief view of the passing landscape of South San Francisco from my seat on CalTrain.

Finally, what follows are the complete and unedited photographs from my trip through South San Francisco on Caltrain in the Summer of 2011. Clicking on any one will bring up a slideshow.

Soaring High Above New York City on an Aerial Tramway

Greg Goodman — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 03:13:11 +0000

Imagine soaring above the New York City skyline in an aerial cable car every day to get to school. That’s how I spent my childhood growing up on Roosevelt Island: a two mile long and 800 foot wide sliver of land in the East River sandwiched between Manhattan from Queens.

The Roosevelt Island Tram Soars Above Manhattan's East Side

When it opened in 1976, the Tramway was the only way on or off Roosevelt Island without using a bridge. Cars could gain access from Queens and pedestrians could take an elevator down the supporting legs of the Queensboro Bridge, but a subway stop was still 13 years away from opening.

A shot of the Roosevelt Island Tram next to the Queensboro Bridge, shot from a rooftop in uptown Manhattan

Even after the Q subway line opened in 1989, Tram ridership remained steady for the three minute ride connecting Roosevelt Island with Manhattan’s East side (59th Street and Second Avenue, to be exact).

The Roosevelt Island Tram hangs above Manhattan Traffic on 2nd Avenue and 59th Street

The Tram arrives in the Roosevelt Island docking station

Perhaps my favorite part of the trip was when the Tram’s twin red cabins passed each other in mid-air halfway through the journey. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved snapping photos of the opposing gondola high above the river with Roosevelt Island or New York City in the distance. After years of attempts, I finally captured what I often consider to be my favorite picture of my life: at the very least, my most personal.

The Tram soars above Roosevelt Island, Manhattan and the East River

I was honored to discuss creating this image and my experiences as a travel photographer in an interview with the PhotoGrill Web Magazine. Below is an excerpt:

The original Tram over the East River image from my Nikon D80

Photogrill: Were you after this particular image, or were you photographing everything?

Past attempts taught me that pressing my camera against the angled corner window was the only way to avoid reflections and glare.

Furthermore, I had to be on the cabin closest to the Queensboro Bridge while heading away from Roosevelt Island with a lens wide enough to capture the island, river, oncoming Tram and tower in one shot. It was a photo years in the making.

PHOTOGRILL: It looks like it was against the light, how did you deal with that and get a full set of tones in the tram?

My best earlier attempt at capturing the Tram above Roosevelt Island

As the Tram approached, I quickly took a light reading from both the cabin and the sky behind it and went for something in the middle. When I looked at the results, I was very pleased with the composition but felt the images lacked a certain pop and relegated them to my archives.

It took another few years and teaching myself Photoshop before I revisited the photo.

The original image was captured using a Nikon D80 with a 12-24mm lens set at 14mm, 1/200s exposure, f/7.1 and ISO 100. Once in Photoshop, I used Hue/Saturation, Exposure, Curves, Levels and Brightness/Contrast layers and Smart Filters.

The Tram Lands on Roosevelt Island where the Red Buses wait to shuttle people around The Roc

I was also thrilled when the Tram image was selected by Local Social to be a part of their Vessels event. If you live in the San Francisco Bay Area and like meeting new people, cool art and awesome food, be sure to check Local Social out.

The Tram Lands on Roosevelt Island in front of Historical Society kiosk

For 34 years after it opened, each gondola left its station in Manhattan or Queens at the same time, every fifteen minutes, 20 hours a day. Up to 110 people could squeeze into a single cabin, though at times during rush hour pedestrians were left waiting for the next trip.

The Tram's brightly colored gears in the Manhattan station

Life with the Tram was not without its difficulties, as over the years it encountered its share of problems. Any sign of lightning or strong winds would shut it down for hours, a cabin was once hit by a construction crane working on the Queensboro Bridge and both gondolas have gotten stuck for varying amounts of time.

The Tram, Queensboro Bridge and Cherry Blossoms From the Downtown Side of Roosevelt Island

Perhaps the most famous of these incidents occurred in 2006, when entire Tram system lost all power while the cabins were dangling over the East River and 59th Street, respectively. Backup power sources failed and rescue workers had to manually crank a rescue cage up the cables to individually evacuate passengers. At one point, riders literally had cross over a gap dangling 250 feet above the river.

This cage was dangling hundreds of feet above the East River and passengers had to pass over a gap between the Tram windows and the cage to escape.

When the Tram finally reopened after five months of repairs and upgrades, the writing already was on the wall. Plans were drawn up for a complete replacement of the entire system and on March 1, 2010, the classic cabins were retired to their current resting place: gloomily getting dirtier under the Island’s parking garage.

The old Tram cabins sit decaying behind the Motorgate parking garage on Roosevelt Island

I have heard rumors of turning the old cabins into a welcome center to compliment the Roosevelt Island Historical Society’s current trolley kiosk. My childhood friends and I want to turn it into a sandwich shop. I also think one should go to the Smithsonian…but I’m biased.

Trams in solitude behind the Motorgate parking garage and in front of the Gristides supermarket

Curious about that sliver of land the Tram connects to? Check out my Roosevelt Island photo gallery.

You also can check out uptake.com’s More Family Activities near Roosevelt Island

Beer, Hitchhiking From Mad Max’s Disney Castle and Other Germany Tales

Greg Goodman — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 07:37:11 +0000

Before there was a site, Adventures of a GoodMan was an e-mail I sent out to friends during my travels with links to snapfish albums for photos. The story featured in this post was one of those e-mails after a solo-backpacking trip through Bavaria, Germany, in 2006. I was 26.

The town of Fussen in Bavaria, Germany

Beer and the Hofbräuhaus
Simply put, beer is everywhere! I happened to be in Munich during a warm stretch and people were out in masses. Spread throughout town were a bunch of beer gardens, which are large areas filled with picnic tables and food/beer stands.

The Bavarian streets of Fussen, Germany

People of all ages come out for meals or just to hang out on a nice day, but whatever their reason is, they all have giant beers. How giant? Well, it’s tough to find beer in a glass smaller than a liter. It’s wild to see old men and women pounding these things like they were water. It’s also a very social environment; the picnic tables are huge and you just sit down wherever there is room and make friends with those around you.

In addition to the outdoor beer gardens, there are numerous indoor beer halls spread around town. In fact, beer and beer halls played a large part in the history of Munich and Bavaria. The main one closest to my hostel was the world-famous Hofbräuhaus. It’s just like the outdoor places except larger (it seats 5000) and everyone who works there (and many who don’t) wears lederhosen.

There is a band that comes around playing traditional music while everyone continues to drink their liters of beer and bang their glasses on the table to the beat. This then spills beer everywhere and menus and sleeves quickly become napkins, as real napkins are nowhere to be found. The best part has got to be just sitting there and people-watching the folks from all walks of life who sit down by you. I can only imagine what it’s like during Oktoberfest.

The Peterskirche Church in Munich, Bavaria, Germany

A yellow house in Bavaria, Germany

Planes
Seems I don’t have to be on a school bus in Nicaragua to have some crazy transportation stories. Let’s start with the last one. I booked a 9:30am flight home for Sunday, Nov 26, from Munich to JFK with a short layover in Amsterdam. Well, that Sunday I woke up before sunrise and made my way to the airport…exhausted from being out partying until 4am the night before (hey, it was my last night in Europe).

I get to the check in counter and hand the woman my passport…she has no record of my eticket..and since it was an e-ticket, I didn’t have good old-fashioned airline tickets to show her. I just had my printed itinerary. At this point I take out my printed itinerary to show the woman and immediately see that it says, clear as day, Monday, November 27…not Sunday! I hand it to her hoping she won’t notice, but of course she does and nicely circles my mistake for me (check out the pic). No joke, I must have looked at that piece of paper 1000 times and always saw the right date.

My e-ticket clearly showing the date I was supposed to be at the airport

“What am I going to do,” I ask? “I have to be at work tomorrow.” She types a ton of stuff into the computer and replies, “Well, for $200 I can get you on the flight to Amsterdam today, but the flight to JFK only has business class…that’s an extra $1100.” After thinking about it for a while I decide that I will take the $200 flight change to Amsterdam and catch my scheduled flight to JFK the next day. I had seen all I wanted to see in Munich and was so irritated I would not have enjoyed any more time there, although another visit to the Hofbräuhaus would have been nice. So I got on my 45 minute flight and spent my last day and night (take 2) wandering around Amsterdam taking photos and seeing the 21st James Bond movie – Casino Royale – in my second country (I saw it on German opening night).

Mad Max's Disney Castle Neufschwassen in Fussen

The Disney Castle and a Ride on the Autobhan
One of the main reasons I chose Bavaria was to visit the Castle Neuschwanstein, which Walt Disney based his Magic Kingdom on. I had always seen amazing photos of it and wanted to take my own. Well, the hostel I was staying at in Munich had a sign up sheet for people to meet in the lobby and travel together, as the train ticket there was cheaper by the group. Juan from Chile was the only person that joined me on my adventure.

The sunset over the Alps in Fussen, Germany

I told Juan upfront that I wanted to stay through the sunset to take pics and he agreed. So, we headed off together and after a two-hour train ride getting to know each other and looking at the amazing Bavarian countryside, we arrived in Fussen. The castle itself was gorgeous, massive and set in the middle of the mountains with the Bavarian Alps as the backdrop.

Before taking our tour we went to the best place to take photos (a bridge above the castle), but I never saw the exact view I had seen on postcards and the one I wanted to shoot. Well, after taking a tour of the castle I stopped into the gift shop and picked up a mousepad with the view I wanted and asked the cashier where I could take that exact photo. “You need a helicopter,” she said. “And if I don’t happen to have my helicopter with me,” I asked? “Then you go back to the bridge.”

Hohes Schloss Castle in Fussen, Germany

Well, with little other choice left, Juan and I returned to the bridge and started snapping more pics. As it was super crowded and there was an hour till sunset, we decided to check out the dirt trail that continued past the bridge. It ended a few minutes later but there seemed to be a way to get higher up so I convinced Juan to come on an expedition.

This was the best idea ever, as our final spot was a few hundred feet above the bridge, had a better view of the castle as well as a stunning view of the Alps reflecting in a lake (a view that was blocked by trees on the bridge). With no one around and a view stretching out hundreds of miles, I really felt like I was on top of the world up there and just watched as the sun set over the alps.

The final moments of the day as the sun sets over the Bavarian Alps

By the time I got down from my vista the castles were beautifully lit up, so I got out my tripod and started snapping away. By this time, Juan was anxious to get going but I was determined to take a few more pics.

Me at age 26 in front of Castle Neuschwanstein

Apparently, so was this other guy who was setting up a tripod next to me. We started talking about photography in English – no German Translations required – and after like 20 minutes he said if me and Juan didn’t mind waiting around until he finished up that he would give us a ride back to Munich, as his hotel was pretty close to ours.

We accepted his offer, as it was late and the trains were not running as often, and soon found ourselves on the Autobahn. It was insane, we were going like 140 kph (around 90) but people were zooming by us going well over 100 mph. It’s amazing how slow 90 felt. Needless to say, we still made it back to Munich well before our train would have arrived.

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This and That
Germans don’t jaywalk in Germany; even if there are no cars coming they will all just stand there: it’s very weird.

The Eurail train system has the most leg room I’ve ever encountered.

An old castle in Nuremberg, Germany

There’s a crazy permanent wave in the middle of Munich where people surf all year round.

The Glockenspiel is the most boring thing ever!

I got stuck on a train from Holland to Germany because they couldn’t properly “convert to the German power source.” Their solution was to switch tracks and try to “jump start the power while moving.”

You meet the most interesting people when you travel alone.

I drank beer in places where Hitler tried to stage revolts before taking power.

Brent and Larry also messed up their flight home and were stuck flying back from Amsterdam on Thanksgiving Day.

I was constantly older than everyone I met at the hostels: the youngest being 17.

It’s hard to NOT sound like Borat when talking English to a non-English speaker. (For the record, random hostel people made this observation, not me).

Reflections of the Augsburg Christmas market in Germany

The most beautiful sunset I saw was in Augsburg and had nothing pretty to frame it against…oh, and if you’re ever in Germany you can feel free to skip Augsburg.

At the Hofbräuhaus I met a guy named Greg who was from NYC and loved the Mets as well as seeing a dude I ran into at my perch “atop of the world.”

I had 198 work emails waiting for me upon my return despite everyone knowing I was gone.

No matter how much time you go for, it’s just never enough!

The view of the Bavarian Alps from Castle Neuschwanstein in Fussen, Germany

There’s even more photography from my adventures in Bavaria, Germany here

…and some videos from the trip…

…and finally, my original travel photos as uploaded to Snapfish in November, 2006…

California Route 66: From Needles to Santa Monica – the End of the Road

Greg Goodman — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 22:24:59 +0000

Sure I finished the drive over a year ago, but this blog post has just been sitting on my computer since then. As I continued on Route 66 from Arizona into California, I found that I really had to eliminate the majority of my final stops due to a dinner date with some old friends in Los Angles that evening. However, a few curios still managed to peak my interest.

At 8:45am I pulled into the Santa Monica Pier and hit the end of Route 66. In total, it took me 10 days and 3,657 miles to get through the whole stretch, though I missed the first 100 miles of it from Chicago to Springfield, Illinois, as I had never intended to do the entire route. I guess I’ll just have to finish it up one day. -Thursday, October 29, 2009

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Roy's Cafe, Amboy, California

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Highlights included:

The Cadiz ranch on Route 66 near Chambless, California

The Produce Checkpoint: No, California is not another country, but in some regards it might as well be. Upon entering the state, I was forced to stop at a produce checkpoint and swear that I had no plants, fruits or vegetables in my car.

A Night in Needles, CA: A border town with pretty much nothing to do, it was significant because it was the first time I had ever seen gas costing more than $3.50 per gallon. Now, a year later, it’s unfortunately all too common.

Abandoned Buildings and Gas Stations: All across the desert, I didn’t have to drive far to find beautiful abandonment. Tumbleweeds blew across a landscape filled with the remains of a once-bustling Route 66. From East Amboy to Ludlow, Chambless, Barstow and Daggett , every few miles, I would find myself pulling over, bracing myself in the surrounding wind storm to snap a photograph or just stand there and take it all in.

Getting my kicks on Route 66 near Essex, California

Roy’s Café – Amboy, CA: Since 1938, Roys has been selling gas and motel rooms for weary travelers. Now located in the heart of a ghost town, it is refreshing to still see it in operation and maintaining its 1950’s architectural charm.

Graffiti and Tires: On a random stretch of Route 66 near Chambless, CA, I came across a mostly-demolished old building covered in layers of graffiti. Surrounding it were abandoned tires and other sorts of broken car parts and automobile waste as well as the remains of the building. Exploring the area made me feel like I was on some sort of archeological mission into the history of that particular area.

The First McDonalds: Located in San Bernadino, CA, the location of the first McDonalds is now a museum filled with pretty much every Happy Meal toy ever made and amazing photos and stories from the early days of the most well-known franchise on earth.

The Wigwam Motel, San Bernadino, California, lets visitors sleep in a teepee with plasma screens and comfy beds

The Wigwam Motel – San Bernadino, CA: Having stayed in the Wigwam motel in Holbrook, AZ, a few nights earlier, I was very excited to compare the differences between that and one a mere 45 miles outside of Hollywood. Needless to say, each room had a large HDTV, air conditioning and heat, a high ceiling and modern furniture including a queen-sized bed. This was a far cry over the one in Holbrook, which felt like I was still staying in 1965.

Hollywood: After braving a typical Los Angles rush hour, I finally pulled my 1995 Dodge Avenger down Hollywood Boulevard and met up with my friends Athena and John for sushi above the Kodak Theater where the Oscars are held. Leaving by way of a walk down the red carpet, I then explored the handprints on the floor, stopping to reenact a photo taken of me in front of Jack Benny’s hands in 1987.

Santa Monica Pier – The End of the Road: I thought that I had reached the end of Route 66 back then. I had stopped to take a photo in front of a plaque commemorating it and headed north to my new home in San Francisco. Eleven months later, while back in the area, I found myself on the actual boardwalk of Santa Monica Pier. There stood a tall sign, far more publicly announcing the end of the road than the plaque, and at that moment I finally finished my trip across the country.

This and That

An old car lays rusting by a Route 66 motel in Barstow, California

In California, Route 66 is often poorly maintained and filled with holes and bad paving patchwork.

I love when the Route 66 emblem is actually painted on the road.

There may not be much to see, but it’s possible to drive Route 66 in California for the majority of the way between Arizona and Santa Monica.

I saw a big solar energy plant on the side of the road.

The Marine Corps Logistics Base in Bartow, California, is placed smack in the middle of Route 66, leaving motorists no choice but to get back onto the interstate for an exit to bypass it.

I made it almost all the way to Los Angeles before seeing an In-and-Out Burger.

I would have seen the world’s largest McDonalds that actually stretches over the freeway it’s so big, but it was on the interstate and not Route 66, so I’ll settle for having been close to it.

In a lot of places in California, the speed limit is both on signs and spray painted onto the road.

I made it 3,337 miles without hitting traffic, going all the way from the Baltimore-Washington Parkway to the 101 freeway in Los Angeles.

I’ve gotten to be quite an expert at packing my car in the morning. In the beginning it took nearly 30 minutes to find a spot for all the stuff I had taken into the hotel room the night before. By the end, it took maybe 5.

Apparantly, Meth addiction is a huge problem in the USA based on the aggressive TV and billboard campaigns against it that I have seen all across the country.

My car is completely packed and I couldn't see out the rear view window for all of the trip

All hotel rooms are non smoking yet they all have ash trays.

For a brief second I thought I would be able to see the Joshua Tree, but it required a 90 mile detour and I was short on time.

I try to never let my gas tank get below half full on this trip, since I never know when I’ll hit a long stretch without gas stations. This is the opposite of how I do things normally when my car is frequently riding on fumes.

I had breakfast at a McDonald’s in Malibu and the majority of the other patrons were Latin Americans getting ready to go to work at some rich person’s house in the hills.

Speaking of the houses in the hills of Malibu, they are absolutely gorgeous, massive and awe inspiring.

A pet store/vet in Malibu offered acupuncture services for your pet.

I stopped for a papusa, which is a traditional El Salvadorian food, in a little store about 100 miles from Los Angeles. In addition to my meal, I wound up having a 15 minute conversation with a Nicaraguan woman in Spanish about her home country. Thank goodness my Spanish came flooding back to me.

Replica old toys for sale in the Fair Oaks Pharmacy and Soda Fountain on Route 66 in South Pasadena, California

On the 101 North in California, I was in the left lane and noticed a woman tailgating me. After pulling over one lane, I looked over and she mouthed, “thank you.” I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.

Highway 101 randomly ends for a few miles at a time quite often on the drive between Los Angeles and San Francisco. There are no lights or intersections or any clue as to why, just a sign that says, “end freeway,” shortly followed by a sign that says, “begin freeway.”

All along Route 66, brown road signs let me know that I was on the Mother Road. Now, every time I see a brown sign I get excited before remembering that it’s for something completely different and historic. The strangest ones are the brown Historic Route 99 signs in Northern California. Like, did someone just mess up and hang a 66 sign upside down?

I miss 75mph speed limits and no worries when I go 80.

It was a weird feeling driving up to San Francisco for the first time, looking at the skyline and realizing that I’m home.

At mile 4,081 I finally pulled up to the front door of my new apartment in San Francisco.

Driving to Portland This and That:

In San Francisco just long enough to unpack my car, catch a World Series game on Haight Street and catch a few zzz’s, I once again got in my car to drive the 600 miles to Portland, Oregon, to spend a week with Carrie, Lauren, James and their crew. These final This and That’s were written after the completion of that final drive, bringing my total near 4,700 miles over 13 days.

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The First McDonalds Ever, San Bernadino, California

It’s so weird to be able to see out of my back window again. And so much safer too!

Even more strange is being able to see completely out of the side windows. I actually had to develop a system during my drive to ensure that I was not merging into a car in my blind spot. Now I have to remember that I don’t have to use my system and can just look over my shoulder.

I think I listened to the new Jay-Z CD about 6 times on my trip.

Oregon is like New Jersey, in that you cannot pump your own gas. I learned this when I tried to pump my own gas and the attendant came running over and slapped my hand off of the pump.

Portland has a tram, just like the one on Roosevelt Island.

Photography:

A Party on my Delayed MUNI Bus

Greg Goodman — Sat, 08 May 2010 19:13:51 +0000

The MUNI 33 bus during a going away passenger appreciation celebration

NextMuni.com says my bus arrives in 18 minutes and the next one comes in 32 minutes. Next I check it’s 9 minutes and 23. Then the ETA jumps up to 12/18…then 13/16…and finally 4/4. By the time I get to my stop, both buses are pulling in together. Just another typical morning waiting for the 33 in Upper Haight.

I hop on the first one, frustrated that yet again it would have been faster to drive. The bus driver apologizes, saying the two buses that were supposed to be in front of hers aren’t running today. Then she offers me my choice of wrapped candy from a dish by the fare machine and for the first time I actually look around at bus 2442 driven by Tammy.

It’s like a Fourth of July party inside Tammy’s bus. There are red white and blue streamers, balloons, coils that say “happy,” banners and party lanterns hanging from the railings. Large handwritten posters adorn the windows thanking her riders and spouting truths such as “Until MUNI realizes that without our passengers there’s no MUNI!” and pretty much everyone has a smile on their face.

The sign in front of the MUNI 33 bus

As I sit in the bus watching new passengers board, I witness a MUNI miracle: a sea of frowns turn into big grins as people enter and see what awaits them. I overhear nearly every newcomer commenting on the scene to either Tammy or their fellow straphangers. “How cool is this,” they ponder aloud. “Is this for Mother’s day?” “Is someone retiring?” “I can’t believe I got candy.” Even the woman on her cell phone discussing how her doctor just found a lump in her breast seemed upbeat, enjoying her Tootsie-Roll lollipop with her lips curled up from ear to ear.

Pretty much everyone who boarded asked Tammy a quick question about the decorations. “I just want to show appreciation for my passengers,” was her standard response. Those who pressed further often heard “If not for the passengers, drivers and managers have no job.” Tammy also was more than happy to advise passengers frustrated by the delay. “I strongly encourage you to call MUNI and complain,” was advice that seemed to be doled out at every other stop.

Tammy, the driver of the MUNI 33

The bus thinned out just before I got to my stop and I had the chance to briefly chat with Tammy and ask her what inspired her display of gratitude. “It’s for all of you. I drive this bus every morning and have the most amazing relationships with my passengers.” She next revealed that her last day is this Thursday, but when I wished her an amazing retirement she responded, “nope, not retiring, just moving to the 24 line.”

So to all you lucky folks who take the 24, please greet Tammy with a smile and enjoy the ride, because she is one of the rare gems in the MUNI system who makes the inevitable delays bearable.

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I originally wrote this post for the San Francisco Web site, Muni Diaries on May 4, 2010. Since submitting it, the story has been picked up by the San Francisco Chronical and CBS5 Web sites. In a time when MUNI is facing service cuts and fare hikes, it seems to have become a rare feel-good story about the beleaguered San Francisco public transportation system.

SF Gate (San Francisco Chronical) coverage – if you click this one, be sure to read through all the fascinating comments about MUNI and other people’s experiences with it, both good and bad

Waterfalls, Train Rides, an Old Friend and Relaxation on the River Kwai

Greg Goodman — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 21:44:51 +0000

One of the Erawan waterfalls in the Erawan National Park

Based on the recommendation of Claire, our Scottish friend that we keep on traveling with, we went straight from the Bangkok airport to the bus station to head to Kanchanaburi, a small town on the River Kwai. We only meant to spend a couple of days there, but the laid back atmosphere and our sweet hotel room that floated on the river and had a porch with chairs and a hammock extended our stay.

Kanchanaburi itself is a sprawling town but the touristic area is limited to a long street of bars, restaurants, shops, hotels and food cart vendors. It was walking down this street on our second morning that a guy on a motorcycle stopped and said, “can I say hello?” Not wanting to deal with whatever he was selling, Carrie and I ignored him and kept walking. It wasn’t until he repeated his question and took off his helmet and sunglasses that we realized it was our couchsurfing friend Tut from Phuket. He had just quit his job at the timeshare company and was making his way to South Korea. What a small world!

Me, Carrie and Tut at the Erawan National Park

Along with Tut, we spent that evening at the night market where we wandered around sampling lots of foods and looking at all the junk for sale. The three of us also treated ourselves to massages: Tut and I got our feet done while Carrie got a full oil massage from a Lady Boy. The foot massage was quite nice and the masseuse used some form of dull pointed stick to access pressure points and kneed out knots that I had never experienced before. Very relaxing!

Waking up early the next morning, we rented a motorcycle and, with Carrie on the back, followed Tut to the Erawan National Park: home of a beautiful seven-level waterfall. Ranging in size and force, each level of the waterfall cascaded into beautiful blue pools perfect for swimming or other activities. One of the levels had a large mossy rock doubled as a water slide; we spent a lot of time there. Another highlight was swimming under a fall to get a massage from the water beating on our shoulders.

We could have spent hours at each level were it not for the little fish that bit the dead skin off of everyone’s feet when we stood still in the water for more than a second. More startling than painful, it still ensured that we didn’t stay at any one fall for too long. Fortunately, the crowds were not so bad and the higher up we went the fewer people we saw.

Shaky wooden bridges are common on the Death Railway

After saying goodbye to Tut, our next outing was a ride on the Death Railroad, which was named because of all the POW slave laborers who died building it during World War II. The trip started by going over the Bridge Over the River Kwai, which was made most famous by the old movie staring Obi Wan Kenobi himself, Alec Guiness. Carrie and I tried to watch it a couple of times before our ride but never made it past 10 minutes.

Death Railway chugged along for more than two hours, passing by streams, mountains and large caverns that had been dynamited out by the POWs. At some points the side of the train was literally inches from the face of the jagged cliff. We crossed a handful of rickety wood bridges over deep chasms and even went through a few tunnels. When the train reached the destination, we quickly hopped out and got a bus back to Kanchanaburi, finding it just a bit silly that on one of our few days of not moving around we spent our time on two unnecessary forms of transportation.

Most of the rest of our time in Kanchanaburi was spent relaxing on our porch, wandering the main street, catching up on some much needed writing and photo sorting and eating lots of meals from an delicious and cheap local restaurant where we befriended the entire staff. My favorite part was playing paper airplanes with their two year old daughter while waiting for amazing pad thais and curries.

Sleeper Buses, Open Tickets and Cyclo Taxis

Greg Goodman — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 15:57:18 +0000

Hard at work either writing or editing photos on a sleeper seat that we didn't pay for

As always, trying to get information on traveling like a local from locals was like pulling teeth. For those who managed to actually get on a local bus they had to face super inflated prices, dangers and the occasional incident with police. Fortunately, for once we weren’t trying to travel like locals, as we only had 18 days to see the entire country and couldn’t waste the time. So, for $34 per person, we bought the open bus ticket that let us get on and off at six different destinations while traveling the 1000+ mile stretch between Ho Chi Min (Saigon) in the south and Hanoi in the north.

Buses ranged in duration from a few hours to overnight. They could be nice comfy AC ones just as easily as a teeny minibuses that crammed people, bags and even a motorbike into the seating area. The worst ride we had was an overnight one where we were in the front row behind the driver. There was no leg room and I was forced to rest my feet on either a fire extinguisher or the driver’s toothbrush holder all night.

Carrie and I in a cyclo taxi (xemo) in Hue

When I did manage to fall asleep, I was woken up every few minutes by the sound of a horn: either ours or that of another driver. When I would open my eyes for a second I usually saw the bright headlights of oncoming traffic heading right at us from the driver’s window. I guess passing cars when he didn’t have enough time or space to do so and driving in the shoulder of the wrong lane was how he stayed awake all night.

On another sleeper bus the seats in front of us reclined so far that the only position I could sleep in was with my body completely straight, bracing myself against the wheel hump on the floor in front of me. At one point it was so uncomfortable that I took my blanket and slept on the floor for the rest of the night.

Cyclos
Buses aside, the other transportation method we used was the cyclo. Propelled by a Vietnamese man on a bicycle, it is a variation of your classic bike rickshaw. The seats are big enough for one person to fit comfortably, though locals often cram whole families onto one cyclo. As for us, we managed to both get into one only once. The other times they told us we were too big and had to take two. Really, they just wanted more money.

The Craziest Traffic on Earth…and Learning to Ride a Motorcycle In It

Greg Goodman — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 10:56:32 +0000

Motos after a stoplight in Ho Chi Min...also look at the insane wiring above the road

I learned how to drive a car in New York City rush hour traffic. I learned how to ride a scooter on the dirt roads and busy streets of India. So, it only made sense that I teach myself (with lots of help from Carrie) how to ride a proper motorcycle in Vietnam: one of the most dangerous places to ride in the world. Never having driven a stick shift car (successfully), I had to learn how the concept of gears at the same time as trying to steer clear of the constant flow of traffic.

My first day driving, fortunately, was in the quite town of Mui Ne, which was pretty empty. Unfortunately, shortly into my first day of driving we were hit by monsoon rains. I got the bike home with no problem but got soaked in the process. Next, I took it into the hilly mountains of Da Lat and had a quick crash course on how to use gears on steep inclines. Finally, we took another motorcycle out to explore Na Trang: a busy beach town. This was my favorite, as we returned to the hotel in the middle of rush hour traffic and I got to put my new skills to the test.

Traffic madness in Ho Chi Min

Traffic in Vietnam is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Stop lights are few and far between and motorcycles outnumber everything else. Intersections are the craziest, with all modes of transportation converging together and having a giant game of “who goes first.” Somehow, with a lot of honking, everyone gets their chance to go. Moto drivers tend to let the bigger vehicles go first, but at any given time another bike, car, pedestrian, cow or whatever can jump right out in front. I swear, crossing the street should be an Olympic sport.

Really, the whole thing is quite beautiful: like a noisy dance with a chance of an accident. I never dared to drive in Hanoi or Ho Chi Min, as they take the traffic to a whole new level, but I think I could have done it.

Crossing the street is terrifying in Ho Chi Min

Tuk Tuks and AC Buses in Cambodia

Greg Goodman — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 10:41:05 +0000

A Cambodian tuk tuk

The primary way for both tourists and locals to get around the country is via air conditioned bus. These range from deluxe first class to ones where the AC barely works. Either way, there is not much to write about these as anyone who has ever taken a long distance bus can picture the inside easily. Perhaps the only noteworthy part is the fact that loud Cambodian karaoke videos are blasting over the speaker system for most of the ride.

As for the Cambodian tuk tuk, it differs a bit from any I have seen in other countries. The actual carriage part is attached to a standard motorcycle by a clamp that straps onto the middle of the bike seat. The carriage can move from left to right but has a slight delay from when the bike actually makes the move first. It is also far less stable than other tuk tuks, as if the motorcycle falls over, it will take the carriage with it.

Activity Rain Outs and Tuk Tuk Accidents

Greg Goodman — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 10:30:26 +0000

In the middle of a monsoon this poor woman had to leave a hospital on the back of a motorcycle while holding an IV in Kratie

We knew that we were going to be traveling during monsoon season but, up until arriving at Kratie, it had never affected our plans. However, shortly after arriving the deluge began and we had no choice but to hole up in our hotel for the night instead of doing our planned activities. This was a big bummer, as our schedule had us on the first bus out the next morning and the town became a casualty of war.

The next day our early morning bus took us to Phnom Penh, the capital, where we had to drop off our passports at the Vietnam embassy to get a visa. We originally thought the process would take a long time and we would have to spend the night but it took less than five minutes.

At this point we decided to try and make the last bus of the day to Siem Reap that was leaving in 10 minutes on the other side of town. A taxi or tuk tuk would never make it so we hopped on the back of motorcycle taxis and sped off. Weaving in and out of traffic we narrowly avoided cars, trucks and other motos…but we made it on time. And then the rain began.

On the back of a motorcycle taxi trying to make a bus leaving in 10 minutes on the other side of Phnom Penh

We finally made it to Siem Reap at nearly 10pm after leaving Kratie at 7am and hopped into a motorcycle tuk tuk to take us to our hotel. The monsoon rains were still falling and halfway into our ride the moto started to skid out in the mud. Bags went flying out of the open sides as we slipped down a small hill: the driver trying hard to get the vehicle under control.

We finally came to an abrupt stop and got off to reclaim our bags and survey the damage. No one was hurt and everything seemed fine until I discovered what actually caused the tuk tuk to stop: my DSLR camera backpack wedged under the wheel! We won’t go into the mini-freak out I had but when we finally arrived at the hotel I got to survey the damage.

Looking at my stuff I realized that the wheel had come to rest right on top of my big super zoom lens. Fortunately, I had a filter attached to the front of it that absorbed most of the damage. The filter glass had shattered and the ring that screws onto the actual lens was badly bent and could not be removed, but the lens itself still worked. To this day the filter ring is still on there and a few shards of glass remain. Guess it’s something I have to take care of when I get home.