I didn’t know whether the people of Vietnam would hold that against us.  I mean, Andy and I are pretty obviously American.  We’re taller and broader than 99.9% of the population.  We’re strolling around Ha Noi in our matching North Face fleece jackets and Converse sneakers.  We stick out.

Having dinner at a pho restaurant

That’s not to say that we’re not really trying to fit in.  We eat only local food at street stalls and we’re masters with chop sticks.  We spend our evenings drinking bia hoi (the home brewed and preservative free beer) with locals rather than sipping Heineken’s at an expat bar.  We’ve tried really hard to pick up some Vietnamese words so we can converse with the people here on their terms.

A typical gathering of Vietnamese men at a bia hoi

But, despite all these efforts, I sometimes have a moment of panic whenever a Vietnamese person asks us where we’re from.  Do I lie and say we’re Australian or British or Canadian?  No.  I really couldn’t do that.  Instead I say, quietly but proudly, “We’re American.  From Georgia.”

Andy certainly sticks out... but he's having a blast!

And, so far, every single time I’ve said this, I’ve gotten a positive response.

Last night was an especially cold night in Ha Noi.  Andy and I were looking for a warm dinner and we came across a restaurant full of locals eating plates of rice with various side dishes.  We walked in and started the (sometimes painful!) process of pointing at things, using our ridiculous attempts at Vietnamese and just guessing what we’re ordering.  The sweet little girls behind the counter, as well as half the patrons of the restaurant, were giggling at us almost as much as we were giggling at ourselves!

The girls behind the counter thought we were terribly funny with our pointing and confusion!

We got our plates and went to a little plastic table near the door.  Before we could even really start eating the owner of the restaurant, a well-dressed woman in her early 50′s, asked us where we were from.  I told her we’re American and she got so excited.  She tried so hard, in her very limited English, to explain to me that her daughter lives in the USA.  She was gleaming, so proud.  Like any mother anywhere would be when talking about their successful child.

The owner disappeared for a few minutes and I began to eat (rice, sauteed Asian greens, tofu, a pork rib.)  Then, she reappeared with a huge stack of pictures.  She’d run upstairs to her living quarters above the restaurant to bring down all her photos of her daughter in America.  She showed me each photo, her daughter in a cap and gown at university, her daughter and son at Disney World, a photo of her daughter’s degree, pride and happiness  all over her face.

We finished our meal and I asked the owner if I could take her photo.  She posed on the sidewalk in front of her small restaurant, holding a picture of her daughter in America.

Proud mom!

I’ve got nothing to worry about.  We’ve received such a warm welcome here.  Vietnam and the Vietnamese people have truly moved on.

A riot of colours at the doorway to a local fruit shop

However, in amongst these ancient and washed out buildings you’ll find beautiful shocks of colour and life.  The warm yellow of the flowers being sold by a vendor on a bike, the rickey blue stools lined up at street side cafes, the lacquered red of the bridge to a pagoda… these colours leap out and brighten up what may otherwise be a dull city.  It’s lovely to look at and enchanting to explore.

Red stools and tiny blue tables at a street side restaurant

Yellow flowers and yellow signs brighten up this small side street

The gleaming red bridge to a pagoda on Hoan Kiem Lake

Green and yellow water plant floats at a temple

A street vendor keeps her colourful thermos and kettle nearby

Well, we were never in Kansas.  We were in Georgia.  But, you know what I mean.  We are a looooong way from home!

A typical Ha Noi street scene

This is my second time in Vietnam.  I spent several days in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in 2002 when I was studying in Hong Kong.  Back then, I was pretty lame.  I was scared to eat the local food.  I was not comfortable trying to talk to local people.  I was, basically, the epitome of the American Tourist… eating only sandwiches, ticking sites off my To-Do list and being way too chicken to try to cross the chaotic streets of Saigon by myself.

Well, not this time!  We’re diving right in to Ha Noi!  We’re planning to live in this city for at least three months so we will really have time to explore, to get to know Ha Noi and the smiley, friendly people who live here.

A lady cooks soup at her street-side stand in the Old Quarter of Ha Noi

These ladies are carrying their gear in the traditional baskets... and texting someone to come pick them up? Vietnam is an amazing mix of old and new.

And, so far, it’s been a wonderful culture shock.  Ha Noi is colourful and ramshackle.  The people here are friendly and curious… they stare at us as much as we stare at them!  The food is bright, light and incredibly fresh.  We’ve spend hours and hours each day just walking around, exploring new districts, back alleys and tiny cafes.

Chilis and limes in the local market

A bowl of pho ga (chicken and rice noodle soup) for lunch

Fruit for sale on the side of the road

We went to another district (Dong Da… don’t make Dong jokes, please.  It’s beneath you.) to look at apartments yesterday.  We’re really keen to get out of the hostel and into an apartment so we can begin making this wild and wonderful city our own.

Things began well.  Andy’s parents dropped us off at Hartsfield International Airport in Atlanta at 11.12am on Tuesday, 7 Feb.  Our first flight, from Atlanta to NY’s JFK airport, left Atlanta on time at 1.40pm.  Andy napped for almost the whole flight.  I started the first Harry Potter book (no, I haven’t read them yet… let the mocking ensue!)  We landed at JFK early and found our way to our next gate.

Feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed on the flight from Atlanta to NYC

Now, here’s the thing about long, multiple-leg trips.  It isn’t necessarily the flying that gets you.  When you’re actually on the plane there are movies to watch and music to listen to and you can pull a blanket over your head and try to sleep.  The flying is fine.  It’s the layovers that make you want to cry.  We were in JFK for more than four hours.  That’s a long-ass time to sit on a hard plastic modular seat and sip water.  We took turns walking around the terminal, but there are only so many times you can read the headlines on People and US Weekly (is Demi Moore ok?  Everyone seems really concerned about her.) before retreating back to your bum-numbing seat.

On this particular occasion, the Gods of Flight were looking after us.  We boarded our Singapore Airlines flight bound for Frankfurt, Germany… on an Airbus A380.

Now, I know this next bit will make me sound like a geek, but I don’t care.  We fly a lot and we know the differences between flying on a Boeing 747 and on an Airbus A380.  You want the A380.  It’s quiet and the movie screens are huge and the seats are way more comfortable.  In fact, Andy and I had booked this flight with Singapore Airlines specifically because we knew we’d be on the A380.  It’s a little piece of paradise in the sky.

Andy LOVES all the space on the Airbus A380!

And what made the flight from JFK to Frankfurt even MORE dreamy???  The flight was practically empty!  Like, there were rows and rows and rows of empty seats.  Andy stretched out across a row of 4 empty seats and I stretched out across a row of 3 seats and we slept for 4 hours on our way across the Atlantic.  Bliss.

For Uncle Jim- Andy's meal of kung pao chicken on the Singapore Airlines A380 flight

I don't eat airplane food- My meal on the A380 consisted of hummus, carrots, cheese and Wheat Thins!

We landed in snowy and grey Frankfurt and endured another layover.  I finished the first Harry Potter book and started on the second.  Back home in Georgia we’d managed to scrape together about 7 Euros from our boxes and money my parents had leftover after their vacation in Europe.  Just enough to buy us each an espresso.  In hindsight, this may have been a mistake.  We were tired and preparing for the next, and longest, leg of our trip, and now we were shaky and hyped up on caffeine.

We were not so lucky on the flight from Frankfurt to Singapore.  We re-boarded our blessed A380, but this time 200 people joined us.  I was in the middle seat with Andy on the aisle and a middle aged German woman by the window.  She spoke no English at all, which was kind of nice, actually.  I hate chatty seat-mates.

We have to be on this crowded flight for HOW long???!!!?

At one point during the completely packed 11 1/2 hour flight I stood up in the aisle to stretch my legs.  Whilst I stood there I was rubbing and scratching Andy’s back.  The German lady by the window saw me doing this, reached behind her and pulled out a small plastic disc with little raised plastic fingers all over it and indicated that I should use this to rub Andy’s back.  I did so, and he smiled at her and said “Thank you.”  She said, “Ok.  Good!  For feet!”  I was standing in the aisle at 40,000 feet rubbing my husband’s back with a German woman’s foot massager.

We finally touched down in Singapore, which has maybe the nicest airport I’ve ever been in.  We had another layover, 2 1/2 hours this time, before our final flight from Singapore to Hanoi.  Exhausted and truly smelly, we found a bench of seats that I stretched out on and read more Harry Potter.  I ate a few handful of Craisins, drank a bottle of water and tried my best to ignore the arm rests poking me in the back.  The glamour of international travel.

We finally boarded our final flight from Singapore to Hanoi.  At this point, the three hour flight felt like nothing!  We didn’t sleep at all on the flight.  So, that’s approximately 5 hours of sleep in the past 35 hours.  I have a great deal of sympathy for new parents.  We felt like zombies.

Sleepiest. Flyers. Ever.

We landed in Hanoi!  Finally!  Hurrah!  Go us!  Go us!  The visa and immigration process was simple.  Our credit cards immediately worked in the ATM’s.  We found a taxi and got into town quickly.  Then we promptly entered a coma and didn’t wake up for 27 days.  Well, maybe not.  We did sleep for a long time.  Then we awoke, fresh as daisies, and we were in Vietnam!  It’s amazing, really.  The absolute miraculous magic of flight!

I wasn’t planning to write anything at all about our time at home… it felt nice to take a break from blogging and I didn’t think that “Woke up at 9am, ate things, read books, cooked dinner with mom, sat in the hot tub, went to bed” would make for very good stories.

But, I found myself missing this space and missing our blog and wanting to share all the wonderful things we did, the amazing people we spent time with and the gorgeous food we cooked and ate.  So, here’s a very brief rundown of our time in the Peach State.

We arrived home a few weeks before Christmas and promptly went right back on the road!  Andy, my mother and I took a drive up the east coast of the States from Georgia to Rhode Island to visit my grandparents.

Enjoying some local lobsters with Grandpa

Sunset on Lake Tiogue, Coventry, RI

Once we were back in Georgia we got fully into the holiday spirit!  Halls were decked, turkeys were brined and carols were sung!  We spent Christmas Eve with my brother, sister-in-law and niece.  Then we had Christmas Day lunch with Andy’s lovely family and our other niece and Christmas Day dinner with my parents.  Much eating ensued.

Mom, Dad and Cora Jane read books on Christmas Eve

The lovely Christmas tree (and a bowl of something yummy!) at Noah and Dana's on Christmas Eve

With Bill (my father-in-law) on Christmas Day

Andy's mom, Judy, was feeling Christmas-y!

Our niece Ansleigh was in the festive spirit on Christmas Day!

We didn’t exchange presents this year; but, on Boxing Day, we got an amazing gift!  Our friends Paul and Ali from England flew over to spend a week with us in Georgia!  Oh, it was so wonderful to see them.  We drank and talked and ate our way around Georgia.  I loved seeing our hometown through their eyes.

Paul and Ali don't care what you say... they LOVE American beer!!

After a lovely hike at Amicalola Falls

We had other visitors as well!  My childhood best friends, DeeAnn and Katie, drove up from south Georgia to hang out and spend the night.  Proving that friendship can span time and distance, the three of us didn’t miss a beat and were soon laughing and gossiping just like we did at sleepovers in 1992!  I loved that DeeAnn and Katie got to meet Paul and Ali… current friends and past friends getting to know and love each other.

These girls are even more beautiful now then they were at 16!

We rang in 2012 surrounded by friends and family and food.  My parents hosted a party and more old friends (Marjan and Jeremy!) were there to help us start the New Year with hugs and raised glasses.

Ringing in 2012 in Georgia!

NYE with Marjan!

Andy, Jeremy and Paul celebrate 2012!

Georgia... where it's warm enough to sit outside and drink on New Year's Eve! Enjoying the back deck with Ali.

Mom and I throw a damn good party!

Daddy jams his way into the new year!

Andy and I knew that we needed to plan the second half of our trip, but things were fairly frantic until the second week in January.  Then we hunkered down and started planning.  We initially thought that we would leave for Vietnam at the end of January, but Andy had the genius idea of staying in Georgia until after 5 Feb… so we could watch the Superbowl live for the first time in 7 years!

With our flights booked for 7 February, we had plenty of time to bum around.  I cooked dinner for mom and dad most nights.  We spent Saturday evenings with Noah and Dana and precious baby Cora.  We invited Andy’s brother Eric and his family over for spaghetti and meatballs.  My gorgeous friend Jessica and her very smart boyfriend Rich came down from Washington DC to spend the weekend with us.  Andy and I went for a few walks in the north Georgia mountains and stayed in a stunning cabin belonging to our friend Karen for some alone time.

Can't get enough of cuddly Cora!

Dinner with JJ and Dana! Too pretty for pizza!

I heart Jessica Jones!

Noah and Andy... beardy weirdies!

BBQ and bluegrass music with Mom and Dad

Off for another hike in the mountains

Relaxing with a magazine and my new haircut at Karen's cabin in the mountains

The Abercrombie Boys... Eric, Bill and Andy

Abercrombie family lunch

With the Superbowl looming, and our departure date nearing, my mother and I made the executive decision not to host a big Superbowl party.  Instead, we wanted to spend the day at home with family and lots of good food.  Kind of the best idea ever!  Andy, Mom, Dad, and I were joined by Bill, my father-in-law, to eat wings, potato skins and soup and watch the NY Giants win the Superbowl.  It was a wonderful family evening… just what we wanted.

Kitty Cow was very excited about the Superbowl!

Two months sounds like ages, but in many ways it felt like too short a time to be amongst such loving and fun-loving people.  Whenever I used to tell my grandmother, Kathleen, that I felt lucky she would say, “You’re not lucky, you’re blessed.”  We certainly feel lucky and blessed to call such a lovely place home.

But the thing is, you can’t really sum up a trip like ours.  Four months of travel, challenges, new friends, new cities, old buses, lots of laughter and more than a few tears just kind of defies a nice, neat package at the end.

So, instead of a grand finale here on the blog, I’ll leave you with a list of numbers that we’ve composed.  Some of these numbers (the number of countries visited, for instance) come as no surprise at all.  Some of the numbers (the number of photos taken) were a little surprising to me.  It’s impossible to put a figure on what we learned and how much we appreciated being able to take this trip together.  But, we can count the number of bus rides we took.  So, here we go:

Total days travelled: 114
Number of countries visited: 8
Number of bus journeys: 20
Number of overnight bus rides: 5
Number of flights taken: 6
Number of train trips: 1
Number of ferry trips: 1
Number of broken pieces of luggage: 2
Number of things stolen: 2
Number of items lost: 4
Occurances of malaria: 0 (yay!)
Number of pictures taken: approx 3400
Number of dodgy South American haircuts received by Andy: 2
Cheapest meal eaten: US$2 for 2 people
Most expensive meal eaten: US$160 for 2 people
Number of sunburns: 4
Number of windburns: 1
Number of beaches visited: 5
Number of islands visited: 3
Number of volcanoes / mountains visited: 3
Number of canyons visited: 1
Number of doctors visited: 1

In fact, Rio is SO big that it took us more than an hour to get from the airport to the little studio apartment that we’d rented for the week… only two blocks away from Copacabana Beach!  The apartment was small, but it had a little kitchen (thank God!  food is very expensive in Rio!) and a huge roof top terrace with an amazing view of the world famous statue of Cristo Redentor.  We spent many a happy hour sitting on the terrace, sipping wine, listening to music and laughing.

We visited the statue way up there on a very steamy and humid day.  The view from the base of the statue was breath-taking, all golden beaches and deep green patches of jungle interspersed throughout this colourful and gritty city.

We spent another day walking from Copacabana Beach down to Ipanema Beach.  We’d been warned that the beaches could be dangerous and that pick-pockets and other robbers often targeted tourists on the beach.  In fact, one evening we were standing at a crosswalk waiting to cross the street to Copacabana Beach when we watched helplessly from across six lanes of traffic as a tourist had his camera literally yanked out of his hands by a robber on a bicycle.  So, we didn’t really plan to lie about on the beach listening to our iPod or reading on the Kindle.  Instead we did a lovely walk along the edge of Copacabana, through the surrounding neighbourhoods and out onto Ipanema.  Two of the most famous beaches in the world in one sunny walk?  Yes, please!

View from the far end of Copacabana beach

Ipanema Beach

And, since we’d done a fair bit of walking, the next day we treated ourselves to the traditional Brazilian dish of feijoada.  Served only on Saturdays and Sundays, feijoada is really several dishes served together… typically a large pot of black bean and pork stew served with sides like rice, fried collard greens with crackling, roasted cassava flour, slices of oranges and hot sauce.  I’ll be honest, I like pretty much anything that’s made with black beans, but this was amazing… especially since it’s served with a classic caipirinha to drink!

We spent a lot of time talking in Rio.  Reviewing our trip, discussing the many many high points, the few low points, where we’d return, what new things we might like to see if we were to return to South America.  Many months ago, this trip felt like it might be our one shot at seeing South America.  Now, not so much.  I could easily see us returning to several of the amazing places that we’ve visited in the past four months.  And, we both agree, Rio would be at the top of the list of places we’d love to see again.

Our inspiration has grown since we’ve been in South America.  So many people that we meet have an interesting story.  So many people have done things we have not and have experiences to share.  Our journey through South America has been enhanced by these people who have inspired us:

Jose Miguel: Our guide from our Amazon trip, Jose Miguel was full of energy and knowledge.  He also had a wonderful story of how he had turned his life around to focus on what he was passionate about: preservation of the Amazon.

James and Briony: We met a couple of Aussies while traveling.  They turned out to be doing a similar sabbatical to us.  James and Briony are doctors who were backpacking and trekking their way across South America.  We shared stories and goals, usually over a couple beers.

Nestor: Nestor was our guide throughout our trek into Colca Canyon.  Nestor had been formally educated in the larger city, but he had returned to lead tourists into his native part of Peru with a point towards assisting the people who live there.  He was in amazing physical shape, and he could run in and out of Colca Canyon in an hour and 45 minutes.  Us tourists took over three hours just to get in it.

Petero: We rented a small cottage while on Easter Island.  Petero was a ball of energy and positivity.  He was the owner of our cottage.  He was one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, and his view on life made us feel miles from home.

Andrea Connelly: We met Andrea immediately after she had been robbed.  The poor girl had had a shocking day.  We were impressed with how she pulled it together and recovered from the traumatic ordeal.  More importantly, Andrea had been living outside the USA and traveling for 19 months straight.  She would work remotely to earn money and that allowed her to live abroad.  She had lived in amazing places all over Europe, and she was currently touring South America.  Andrea demonstrated what was possible by ‘living abroad’ and how to overcome adversity.

Nils and Ilona: Another couple who turned out to be very close friends, Nils and Ilona were traveling and eating their way through South America, much the way we were.  They were very practical; saving money and planning their travels well.  They had completed the Trans-Siberian Railway and had nothing but encouraging things to say about it.  We shared many of the same views on life with Nils and Ilona.  We found ourselves intrigued by their travels and wanting more.

Bob Fetterman: We rented an apartment in Rio de Janeiro from Bob.  Bob was a nice guy who had moved to Rio and was loving the place.  He had a positive attitude toward life and Rio.  He seemed to be living his dream and enjoying the wonders of a new and different city.  Bob dismissed many of the fears we had about safety in Rio.  He was proof that life can be what you want it to be.

We could go on and on about the people who have touched our lives throughout our travels.  We’ve had to focus on the highlights to keep this blog post reasonable sized.  Many people have our thanks for their support and assistance during our travels.  We were touched by many.