Phnom Pehn family truckster

PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA – Just back from a 10-day visit to Cambodia and Thailand and ruminating on my family’s adventures.

Among the amazing sights in Cambodia were the obligatory gravity defying scenes of whole families as well as just about any other household appliance or ware imaginable, slung over the saddle of Khmer Rouge era scooters and sputtering down the road.

But what was even more amazing in retrospect, was the range of transport we both saw and used in travelling across the better part of Cambodia, and the Southeastern corner of Thailand.

A brief survey includes: Motodop (motorbike taxi), TukTuk (motorbike rickshaw), rented motorbike, taxi, minibus, ferry boat, pirogue, longboat, pickup-truck, and my favorite…elephant (see gallery pics below).

Bicycles were easily rented in Phnom Penh and I noted several day tours advertised. Unfortunately given the short time frame for our visit, family considerations (protests) and the hectic traffick in Phnom Penh, Bangkok and other areas visited, I did not explore this avenue (next time).

Rice fields near Cambodia/Vietnamese border

Cambodia is roughly half the size of Germany territorially speaking, with a highway system that while greatly improved recently, still reflects the largely rural nature and grinding poverty that characterizes the country – until five or six years ago the quickest route from Phnom Penh to the central and Northern regions of the country was along the Mekong river on the so called “Bullet Boat.”

I was in fact sad that the Bullet Boat no longer runs up the Mekong, at least not for daily travellers; the only other option for slow travellers wishing to reach the non-descript villages along the river is to invest several days time in learning local minibus routes, or to rent a car and driver and ask him to drive into the hinterland…which is what we did.

As it turned out, our driver spoke a good deal of English and doubled as a guide to the images of rural Cambodia laid out around us. He also had a better idea of what we would find interesting, than we did picking towns off of the map and from the guidebook.

Highpoints included the rice paddy vistas going Northeast from the capital towards the Vietnamese Border, and a window into some of Cambodia’s minority communities as we went further North – including a surprising number of mosques (some on stilts emphasizing their dual identities).

Sticky rice vendor near Kratie in Northeastern Cambodia

Outside Kratie, our original destination, the National Highway turns into a sleepy lane winding along the Mekong River past roadside stalls selling bamboo stalks filled with sticky rice and other local specialities.

It was hard to believe this was the principal international route to neighboring Laos. As we took in the sights, our driver, Naret deftly led us to a small dirt turnoff overlooking the river, “Here are the boats for dolphin viewing,” he announced.

Tales of dolphins and travel in Cambodia and Thailand to be continued…

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – Is it just me or have the weather gods smiled on Geneva this Fall?

All the better to get back in the saddle after what seems like an extended hiatus limited to commuting on two-wheels.

Window to another world near Satigny, canton Geneva

Sharing the road with a group on horseback makes me forget momentarily about gas stations, traffic lights and vehicle inspections.

And something about the empty vineyards early morning and late afternoon is calming to a mind overrun with extraneous garbage.

Like a dream more vivid than my waking moments.

End of the road - Chouilly-Thoiry border

Sunday afternoon "ballade "in the vineyards

For me, and millions of other Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band fans, a chapter of rock n’ roll history closed June 18, with the death  of Clarence Clemons, the band’s iconic saxophone player, following a stroke suffered earlier this month.

The first album I learned the songs to from A to Z was Bruce Springsteen’s debut “Live from Asbury Park.” The garage band sound mixed with Springsteen’s junkyard poetry and anchored by Clarence Clemons sax solos formed my idea of what music was meant to be for years. Though Clemons had a full solo career in his own right, he will always be in my mind the earthy foil to Springsteen’s atonal  crooning.

In my mind, Clarence Clemons was the embodiment of soul in an otherwise soul-filled lineup (this role is sometimes attributed to Steven Van Zandt, but to me he is the “cool”). His playing featured prominently on every E Street album into the oughts when Springsteen returned to his acoustic folk work.

Ironically, in this 1979 clip from Springsteen’s performance at the “No Nukes” concert in Madison Square Garden in 1979, it is Clemons who revives a malingering Springsteen who fires up the audience saying “I’m 30 years old, my heart’s startin to go on me.”

Clarence Clemons bringing soul to Passaic New Jersey, 1978

“…with Clarence at my side, my band and I were able to tell a story far deeper than those simply contained in our music,” Springsteen said on the passing of friend and band member Clarence Clemons.

Bertha - a fine piece of Swedish motor engineering on the Greek coast preparing to embark for Italy

Geneva – Ever wonder what happens to solid running cars that fail the feared controle technique, or inspection in Switzerland?

According to one mechanic I talked to, Volvos in particular often get a second life in places like Iran and Afghanistan.

While an automotive afterlife sounds quaint, I was less than happy when stringent Swiss inspection laws recently forced an early retirement for “Bertha,” our much loved 1990 Volvo 740 Turbo wagon.

Finding them a second life makes sense actually, as many cars deemed either not up to Swiss safety or ecological standards are still in strong running condition, and a workhorse like ours, with only 285,000 km, can be expected to give many more years of life.

Never the less, it hurt, driving Bertha for the last time, to hand her over to a car transporter, who would shortly load her onto a trailer to be trucked out of the country.

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I caught this one myself

Geneva, Switzerland – After having been tailgated, high-beamed and passed in a no pass zone by an overzealous school marm in…yes, a Honda civic, this evening on my motorcycle, I am thinking “Turkeys on Four Wheels,” would be a better title for this blog.

But the fact is, we are celebrating Turkey Day here in Geneva tomorrow, and it’s all about the love… So, what do turkeys and two wheels have in common you say? How about 24 pounds of France’s finest bird making its way across town on the back of my motorcycle.

Yep, after picking the beast up at Aligro, I stuffed it in my backpack and headed home on my bike.

On the way imagining, oh this could be a really messy exchange if some driver takes me out, there will be, a large bird flying through the air and various poultry parts strewn all over the road.

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Steve Lee's memorial service - Photo ©Gotthard

Geneva, Switzerland – It was with great sadness that I read about Swiss rocker and motorcycle enthusiast Steve Lee’s death two weeks ago, and his memorial service this past Sunday in Switzerland.

While I had never heard his band Gotthard, my wife and daughter immediately remembered him as the “guy who woke up the otherwise moribund Miss Swiss contest with a great performance.”

His untimely death on a Nevada highway at the beginning of what was supposed to be a cross-country motorcycle adventure rattled me as a fellow biker.

Even more though, I felt a deep sadness remembering the boyish anticipation I experience each time I embark on a motorcycle trek, and how Lee’s moment of bliss would have been interrupted mid-thought by a fatal blow, ironically from a parked motorcycle plowed into him by a semi truck.

Bike adventures are always pregnant with a certain sense of danger and this no doubt is part of the enchantment.

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I’ve gone to the park to unwind and sniff some trees, see ya in a bit

Rocky the escape artist, looking remorseful a day after the fact

Geneva, Switzerland – My dog, a German Shepherd mix going on 14 years-old, slightly batty, going deaf and increasingly losing her famous sixth sense and uncanny ability to navigate the human world. Or so we thought until this past weekend.

My family and I returned to our apartment after a friend’s wedding, to find the front door wide open, lights on and dog nowhere to be found.

My daughter was the first up the stairs and the first to react – when we got to the door she was crying terribly “Rocky’s gone, she’s gone!”

My daughter was raised by our dog, which she remembers in moments of crisis, in spite of her bellyaching about having to take her out for daily walks.

I felt my insides evaporate and my brain waves go flat – my reaction to loss – and contemplated not coming home to a family member I have known longer than my wife.

With our neighbor’s help (Thanks to Alain and Justine!) we hit the pavement in our wedding outfits whistling and calling out “Rocky, Rocky;” a nice scene at midnight on a late Saturday evening in Geneva.

The crowd at the corner bar was helpful too, if a bit unsure of how long it had been since our dog had wandered over to their sidewalk tables in search of company, and a beer?

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J. Devaney NJ Transit ambassador

New Jersey, USA - Shock is what I felt my first morning back in the US after a 2-year hiatus. I woke up early to beat the steamy heat radiating off of the slab that is Manhattan across the river, stepped outside to jump on the public transport, and suddenly realized I was in the United States.

As I walked the 15 minutes down a state highway, it occurred to me that I might be waiting a while for a bus to my favorite breakfast haunt on Bergenline Ave.

Suddenly, I was missing the ease of public transport in Geneva.

Waiting for the 165 from New Milford to Guttenberg I worked myself into an obsession, cussing the deserted road and the car culture that left me stranded 5 or 6 short miles from downtown Manhattan.

I was just about ready to call it quits and start walking, when the nearly empty 165 rolled to a stop, and the doors popped open.

“How close to Guttenberg will this thing get me,” I snarled. And was totally unprepared for the solicitous response; “How about Guttenberg?” the driver offered in a sweet, sleepy Saturday morning invitation.

I climbed in and took my seat with a good deal of skepticism smeared all over my face.

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Speaker at the 14th International Humanitarian Conference

Bellevue, Switzerland - Sitting in on the 14th International Humanitarian Conference, entitled Facing the Psychological Impact, I was struck once again by the wealth of human resource at our fingertips here in Geneva.

The conference, which began yesterday, February 26, and runs through today, is co-organized by Webster University Geneva, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and other Geneva-based institutions.

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Living mummy in Geneva

Geneva, Switzerland – What is it that Americans love about Halloween beyond the childish thrill of having license to consume endless plastic pumpkin containers of sweets?

In fact, as a child growing up in rural Vermont, the best treats were always the homemade caramel apples and candied popcorn our neighbors 4 miles down the road made every year for the handful of kids who would appear in their yard.

Beyond the sweets, it was a social occassion, a chance for parents to show up unannounced, at friends houses for a bit of local gossip and maybe a sip of hard cider from the recent apple harvest.

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