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OUR JOURNAL IN PICTURES:

Click any picture to see location, day and description

To see our full "journal" from day one click here...

Day 621: Bali, Indonesia Next on our ‘big-list-of-secret-beaches’ was called Green Bowl. It was an adventure just getting there on our scooter, insane roads with massive hills and potholes big enough to flip us over if we hit one. Balinese drivers seem to enjoy giving you near death experiences as they swerve past at insane speeds. It’s a stressful 40 minute ride but the promise of a remote paradise makes it worth it. When we get there we’re in shock. Only 5 other people there on one of the most beautiful beaches we’ve ever seen (and trust me we’ve seen a lot). Crystal blue water at the perfect temperature, soft waves and massive cliffs surrounding us forming a ‘bowl’ effect befitting it’s name. After hours of playing in the water and soaking sun we go on a hike. After wading through water to a small beach in the distance, I just keep walking for an hour or so. Soon I’m totally alone, on a beach of my own. I lay there and think about how this memory will be the place I go to during any hard times in the future. Day 623: Bali, Indonesia Going down the list we decide to take on the most secret beach of all. Pantai Nyang-Nyang is so off the grid that you have to walk down a huge mountain to find it. There’s hardly a path so we’re hobbling slowly over roots and low branches for what feels like hours. Finally at the bottom we’re face to face with a huge pack of bulls. It’s scary at first but we just keep walking slowly and they don’t seem to be bothered. Then we’re on the sand, completely alone on a huge stretch of ocean. There’s an old ship wreck that we explore and play on for a bit. The beach goes on as far as we can see, endless sand and mountains in the distance. It feels like a dream, like something our minds created. The best part was the isolation, there’s a feeling you get when you have something like this to yourself that’s indescribable. Day 627: Java, Indonesia After a heartfelt goodbye to our Balinese home we had to move on to Yogyakarta, Java. Enticed by the promise of volcanos and kind locals. we felt it was a more memorable choice than continuing down the tourist path of Kuta/ Lombok. Not to mention that we were able to find a boutique 4
Day 619: Bali, Indonesia After a few days of Canggu we felt it was time to move on, a google search directed us to Uluwatu further south. Famous for being the subject of hundreds of surf movies, this was the ‘hidden beach’ area we’d been looking for. We do some research and compile a list of unknown beaches to explore throughout the week. 
When we get to our new surf hotel, we barely set our bags down before running off on our new terrible motor scooter down winding roads through a maze of jungle trees. We stop at an old abandoned stairway with 300+ steps down a cliff to a remote beach. There are about 20 other people there but all locals with surf boards. There’s a small cafe run by a nice older woman telling us she has beds available cheaper than what we have now. We kick ourselves for having a booking already, missing an opportunity to live on a remote beach like this. Maybe next time, in 20 years.
Day 616: Bali, Indonesia Life is good out here in Canggu. It’s a picturesque surf city with more relaxed vibes than I know what to do with. Our days are spent watching local TV in our hotel, laying by the rooftop pool with cheap beers and riding our terrible scooter as far as it can go in random directions just soaking it all in. Today was a race against the clouds as another massive tropical storm came in during one of our bike rides. The kind of storm that scares you on some primal level as the sun fades replaced with a gray haze. We rushed home just before the downfall and watched it from the roof. At night we biked to a pig roast with a view of endless rice fields. Sunset, avocado shake, local chocolate, crickets.
Day 614: Bali, Indonesia Today is a day I’ll look back on forever. A day that humbled me to the powers of nature and my role within it. I had decided I wanted to try surfing but that I wanted to familiarize myself with the ocean first. As I began wading out into the waves I felt something was off. I’m no stranger to oceans mind you, but this one felt angry, aggressive. I brushed off the feeling, confident in my swimming abilities I continued out further pushing through wave after wave and laughing along the way. But then, in an instant, something changed and I felt a sour drop in my stomach as I realized I was being pulled further out against my will. I begin swimming as hard as I could back to shore but after each session I look up to see the sand further away than before. I experience true fear for the first time as each wave fights against my weary muscles straining to keep my head above water. My last inch of hope fades as I realize that not only do I not have enough energy to make it back to shore, but I barely have enough to stay above water for much longer. I feel a scream for help unconsciously leave my mouth, a bit muted from the unfamiliarity of it all. Another follows, louder this time. I can hardly see the sand anymore and I’m convinced no one could hear me this far out. A feeling of claustrophobia takes over; a realization that I have no force here, no amount of my personal will could fight the endless water. It was the first time in my life that I felt a true loss of control. I kept screaming. Minutes pass and I try to float above the water to save energy but the waves are too aggressive. My energy’s running thin and I know I have only minutes left in me. Just as I begin to feel a cramp start in my ribs I hear a voice. It’s the biggest relief of my life to see two surfers paddling towards me. They float me on their boards back to shore where Tamara has her hands over mouth, crying. I lay down panting and staring blankly at the sky, in a state of surreal shock and denial. My brain unable to process the fact that seconds ago I was moments from death. Someone hands me a water bottle, and life goes on.
Day 613: Bali, Indonesia After one last night of yoga in Ubud we hop an Uber to the close by city of Canggu. Apparently Uber is super illegal in Bali with some drivers getting beaten by local pissed off taxi owners. A little unsettling but the drive goes well and we end up at an amazing surf hotel by the ocean. It’s colorful, huge and modern giving us a true sense of vacation. We rent another crappy motorbike and ride across narrow rocky roads to the beach. It’s almost night so we just lay around a bit, listen to audiobooks and soak whatever sun is left. Life is slow out here, people seem happy and free spirited. Many travelers with surf boards, small shops with local clothes, all vegan restaurants and cafes. Add it to the list of cities I could retire to.
Day 611: Bali, Indonesia When in Bali you have to get into Yoga, or so I’ve been told. So we did our first session in an open air venue. It was harder than I thought, leaving me an exhausted mess after just 50 minutes, but damn did it feel good. Naturally Tamara was effortless at it, reminding me why I’ll need to get back into cardio when we eventually stop traveling. After having enough public embarrassment for one day we went to check out the monkey forest. I made friends with a few of the little guys and hung out watching their patterns. It felt like a true jungle having the monkeys around among the massive trees and vines, all I could think about was how much I wanted to go camping.
Day 609: Bali, Indonesia The owners of our hotel spontaneously invited us to join them for a traditional Balinese religious ceremony and of course we couldn’t say no. After a couple hours of youtube videos we were finally able to figure out how to properly wrap a turban and walked down the street to a huge outdoor ‘church’ with hundreds of locals. The building was split into two areas, one with music and stage performances and one for meditative prayer, shadow puppets and chanting. We start off watching a performance where a large guy in a monster mask dances to haunting yet beautiful music. It was transfixing and hard to leave but we wanted to pray with the others in the next room. Watching the massive crowd pray was even more interesting. We loved the music and the long bearded leader’s tradition of tossing water and flowers as he chants. It was magical being a part of this, we were the only non-locals present making us feel accepted and welcomed by the community.
Day 608: Bali, Indonesia Yet again I find myself behind the handlebars of a rattling motor scooter barely fit for use. I push it to max speed as dark clouds loom over us, promising rain. We decided to see some rice terraces close by. It’s one of those things I’ve seen images of growing up so I was a bit excited. As we arrived the rain finally came in a torrential downpour soaking us instantly. We take refuge under a makeshift hut, the owner of which immediately tries to get money out of us. We pretend not to understand his broken english and watch the rain cover the rice fields. As it finally begins to slow down we run through the maze of rice, getting caught mid-way with a second round of pouring water. We run full speed and hide again under a tin roof covered in massive spiders. Just as we begin biking home, the rain stops. I feel bitter but tamara just starts laughing at the irony of it all. A moment that reminded me how well she keeps me balanced.
Day 606: Bali, Indonesia After a rough plane ride and a 2 hour drive through the night we’re finally in our new bed in Ubud. An adorable traditional Balinese home, each room has it’s own separate ‘building’ giving the feeling that it’s more a small village than a house. We love it here instantly as the host brings us fruits we’ve never had before the moment she meets us. We can’t help but put our shoes on as quickly as we can to go explore. At first we’re a bit put off by the sheer amount of tourism. Streets are absolutely packed with brightly dressed westerners in sandals to the point that you almost forget you’re traveling at all. We decide to get off the main street and find the city to be amazing in the side streets. More vegan restaurants and yoga centers than you can count, local businesses and smiling faces. Our first night here was spent in a small bar that makes only balinese cocktails. We got one made with a local whiskey and Arak. Tasted just how Bali feels.
Day 603: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia One of my favorite perks of traveling with no set plan or booking is looking through google maps and essentially choosing a new place to visit at random. That’s how we ended up here in Kuala Lumpur. It was on the way to Bali and seemed interesting enough (from wikipedia) to merit a few days trip. We booked a shoddy hostel in city center and spent the day walking. It’s an interesting city in that it feels like it was just dropped into the middle of a rain forest. We saw packs of monkeys walking across busy streets more than once. massive trees border each city part, large forests with well maintained paths are found constantly. Clean malls, cute cafes, It seemed like a place we could live for months maybe even years if we wanted to. Not too exciting but perfect for settling down a bit. Something we needed quite a bit after a month in Cambodia.
Day 601: Siem Reap, Cambodia I had to go back. After coming with Tamara a couple days ago I couldn’t get Angkor out of my head. I rent a pedal bike this time (even more brushes with death than last time) and slowly make my way back through dense traffic. Nothing against Tamara but going here alone was serene. I was able to blend into the walls and forget about the tourists. I would just sit and stare at walls, breath deep and watch the monks wander around aimlessly. I found temple after temple on my shaky pedal bike, some small piles of rocks and some so massive I couldn’t even reach the top. But my favorite temple was Bayron. It’s a labyrinth with a hundred massive sculpted heads on top. I spent most of my time here playing Indiana Jones. After wearing myself out and running out of water I had to pedal my broken bike back home over an hour in pitch darkness against insane traffic. One of the more dangerous things I’ve done but worth every second. Tamara and I celebrate with mango daiquiri’s
Day 600: Siem Reap, Cambodia An entire day of temple hunting can really wear you out. So today was a bit more ‘relaxed’… or so we thought. We decided to take a leisurely stroll through one of the famous outdoor markets which turned into an adventure on its own. The market walls were entirely made of cardboard and sheetmetal. Instantly upon arriving the smell of rotting fish greats you and doesn’t leave during your entire stay. There’s such a thick layer of garbage that you can’t see under it, literally a ‘floor’ of garbage. We were put off but decided to check it out anyway. If the past 600 days have taught me anything it’s to never let appearances influence decisions. Right as we enter we’re greeted by a smiling father trying to teach his small daughter to say hello to us in english. We chat with her a bit as he smiles and thanks us. Running off the good vibes we keep walking and run into many more similar situations. Smiling locals approach us, ask us questions, take our picture. It felt good to engage a bit rather than looking from the street as usual.
Day 599: Siem Reap, Cambodia We’re puttering down a street filled with manic Tuk Tuk’s on our way to Angkor Wat. With a max speed of 40km/hr there was more than one close brush with death. But after an hour of dodging we arrive at the mold speckled gates. In lieu of being with our families for Easter we decided to celebrate a bit differently this year within these ancient walls. It starts with a stroll down steps and through hallways, feeling carvings and getting lost. A stray monkey plays with and then attacks me. We laugh. There’s a hazy feeling to this place, like an orange filter put over the landscape. The grey stone matching perfectly with the surrounding straw yellow dead grass. The smell of charred sweet meats sold by vendors close. The silence. It’s a sanctuary and I can’t get enough. We go from one temple to the next observing their varying levels of decay and interpreting their potential purposes. The closest I’ve ever felt to the ‘adventurer’ archetype we all imagine as kids.
Day 597: Siem Reap, Cambodia Had one of the most surreal experiences of my life today. I've been a long time follower of North Korea to the point of obsession. I've read entire books on the country and have always wished I could interact with their locals on a real and meaningful level. Well today, my dreams came true. Apparently there's a North Korean run restaurant here in Siem Reap. The second I found out I hopped on my bike with Tamara, riding down dusty highways to find it. After some direction mishaps we found it in all it's grey-bricked-communist-era glory. We were literally the only people there. The second we walked through the doors we were swarmed by 7 pale waitresses (all the exact same height) showing us to our table (which was surrounded by all fours in wood walls almost like an office cubicle). All 7 watched us as we ordered, and didn't leave as we ate. At first I felt incredibly awkward but soon realized this was the opportunity I had been waiting for, a chance to speak with an actual North Korean. The lead waitress at the head of our table started chatting with me, asking what sports I liked, if I speak Chinese and what I do for a living. After clearing the air I was rapid-fire asking her pretty much everything I could think of from her favorite films to where she wants to travel most in the world. There's too much to put here but hop over to our blog to read our conversation, it really made my week. To me this was one of the most surreal, unbelievable experiences I've had in our whole 600 days of travel.
Day 594: Siem Reap, Cambodia Started my first day being 26 to a flag waving Danish girl singing birthday songs in her language with a box of cupcakes she ran out to get as I was sleeping off the wine and fried scorpions from the night before. After stuffing on cupcakes we debate what to do today. I end up deciding that renting a crappy bike and riding through local areas sounded best so we did just that for a few hours. Came across a very local market and people watched as the sun set. Later on we decided to do a pub crawl with a large group to 'celebrate youth' or something. I was mostly in it for the free tank top but it ended up being a great time, danced more than I have since Barcelona and we even ended up starting a big dance circle in the street. A proper way to avoid existential crisis 😊
Day 592: Siem Reap, Cambodia When you travel full time for years you find yourself running into days like these that just last forever. We're rushed through our morning, standing on a dirty sidewalk in Saigon waiting for the non-english bus attendant to point us in the direction of our bus. When he does we're shoved onto a bus intended for maybe half the amount of people on it en route for a 12 hour drive across Cambodia. 12 hours of podcasts, spotify and audiobooks later we're thrown into a dark garage on the outskirts of Siem Reap with no directions or idea of how we're going to reach our hostel 7 miles away. Luckily, as always happens in these situations, someone awesome comes to the rescue. A nice guy speaking fluent english offers a cheap ride on his Tuk Tuk and we're safely at our hostel which happens to be a three story party factory, waterfall pool and all. Within minutes of arriving we've made good friends and Tamara is dancing like Michael Jackson on a dare. 12 hour bus rides be dammed, I think we're going to like it here.
Day 591: Saigon, Vietnam These streets are insanity. A torrential barrage of activity: shop owners sleeping on the floor, mothers changing their children in the street, old women tossing buckets of water on the grime as if it makes any difference, old men limping in dusty clothes with giant smiles, steaming bubbling buckets of Pho tossing it's smell every direction and me, a 6' 4'' American in skinny jeans contorting my body to fit under the low overhangs on every street corner. People stare, they point and they call their children over to see me. And, just when I'm on the verge of feeling awkward, they smile and say hello. Every single time. It's a warm feeling I've never felt before and makes walking these streets all but an addiction.
Day 591: Saigon, Vietnam These streets are insanity. A torrential barrage of activity: shop owners sleeping on the floor, mothers changing their children in the street, old women tossing buckets of water on the grime as if it makes any difference, old men limping in dusty clothes with giant smiles, steaming bubbling buckets of Pho tossing it's smell every direction and me, a 6' 4'' American in skinny jeans contorting my body to fit under the low overhangs on every street corner. People stare, they point and they call their children over to see me. And, just when I'm on the verge of feeling awkward, they smile and say hello. Every single time. It's a warm feeling I've never felt before and makes walking these streets all but an addiction.
Day 589: Saigon, Vietnam Feeling better now, we take an early train down the coast to Saigon. We're living right on the most insane street Ive seen all year. Thousands of people swarming bars and restaurants, its honestly a bit overwhelming. We spend most of our first day seeking out local areas and getting lost in back roads. We have dinner at a small stall run by an old woman and her grandson. They served us a magic bowl of Pho I've been searching for since I've got to this country.

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