Month: August 2016

Things got so busy along the way that I never got around to posting about the two weeks we spent in Vietnam. In lieu of my usual posts, what follows is a rough outline of what I likely would have mentioned had I had the time.

Hanoi:
This busy city has the best street food in all of Vietnam. It’s amazing how many different variations of noodles with pork there are – soups, wraps, stir fries, deep-fried pastries – and they’re all cheap and delicious. The Municipal Water Puppet Theatre was also a highlight. In their puppet shows, the stage is a pool of water, and the puppets are controlled from below the surface using long poles. It’s a unique traditional art that used to be performed – unsurprisingly – during Vietnam’s flood seasons. However, the strangest tourist attraction in Hanoi is the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, which is worth visiting if even just to gawk at the sheer number of guards there to protect their deceased leader.

Sapa:
Tucked away in the north of Vietnam, this is the region of mountain tribes, primarily the Hmong and Red Dao people. We had the opportunity to do a two-day trek there, following a Hmong woman along the muddy mountain roads, and staying the night in a Red Dao woman’s home. The stair-like rice fields built into the mountainsides are an incredible sight, especially during the rainy season when everything is green and lush. Plus, it was fascinating to see a glimpse of the simple lives led by the people there. We bathed in barrels and cooked over a fire; it felt like we were travelling back in time rather than just to a different place! The only downside was the frequent downpours that happened while we trekked. Thank goodness I had a raincover for my pack!

*Cat Ba Island:
Though the weather was a bit touchy while we were here (thunderstorms on and off), it cleared up just long enough for me to enjoy climbing the limestone karsts at Moody Beach, and for Ellsa to enjoy paddle boarding at Cat Co Beach. Having recently begun to climb regularly at the indoor gym back home, I was really excited to try my hand at outdoor climbing, and Cat Ba did not disappoint! I booked a climbing day with Asia Outdoors, and they did a great job of catering to the wide range of skill levels among the group. I got to do four amazing climbs around my current level, and the guides even encouraged me to try a harder one, which was a fun challenge even though I didn’t get very far up. The experience was exhilarating, and I’m inspired to learn how to lead climb so that I can do lots more outdoor climbing in the future. Had the weather been nicer, we would have stayed longer on this beautiful island.

Hue:
It was fun and fascinating to explore the ruins of the Imperial Citadel in this former capital. There are some buildings that have been completely restored to look as they did when they were first built, some that are nothing but piles of crumbling brick, and many in between. The ruins go on and on – it would take days to see everything. I had certain sights picked out in advance, such as the Emperor’s Reading Room and the Nine Dynastic Urns, and finding them was like a scavenger hunt due to the maze of complete and incomplete walls and buildings. Numerous exhibits in the citadel provide insight into what it may have been like to live there in its heyday. My personal favorite was the collection of gold seals, each with a slightly different dragon as a handle, and each used by a different emperor during their reign.

*Hoi An:
This has to be the most picturesque city in Vietnam. Colourful lanterns are strung above the streets, and the modern restaurants and shops are squeezed in among highly decorated temples and simple wooden heritage houses. In addition to my first experience having clothes tailor-made (and for really good prices!), one of the best parts of our visit was the Taste Vietnam cooking class that Ellsa and I took together. The food was delectable, and the instructor was hilarious. She was brutally honest and strongly opinionated; you couldn’t help but laugh at her blunt comments and insistences. It was also impressive how much we learned in just one day. We made four different dishes, sampled a number of others (including silk worm salad and jellied cassava), and toured the market to learn how to choose the freshest ingredients. We spent four days in Hoi An, and it wasn’t nearly enough. We were so busy exploring the town that we only visited the beach on one afternoon! This place really has everything.

Ho Chi Minh City:
I think I would take my history class here if I ever taught one. The War Remnants Museum took us hours to go through, and though some exhibits were too horrifying to finish looking at, it was a very educational and interesting place to visit, and a strong reminder that no one truly wins a war. On a lighter note, the huge Ben Thanh Market is a great place to wander through and do some souvenir shopping. Vendors offer everything from unfamiliar fruits and vegetables to knock-off purses and wallets, and all are willing to barter. Ellsa and I only spent a day in Ho Chi Minh City before we had to catch our flight home. I’m sure there is plenty more to see in Vietnam’s largest city, but personally I was glad to get out quickly. The crowds and traffic are quite overwhelming, and I found myself longing to get back to my quiet little town in Canada.

Luang Prabang has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage City, and it is certainly a picturesque place. There is a temple around every corner, and orange-robed monks of all ages walk the streets. The city around them seems to have adopted their quiet, peaceful lifestyle, making it a wonderful place to stroll around and explore, and the people there are friendly and welcoming.

While in Luang Prabang, we had the opportunity to engage with the locals on a whole new level, thanks to Big Brother Mouse. This non-profit organization is dedicated to increasing literacy among the Laotian people. In addition to publishing storybooks in Laotian and English, and distributing them to children and schools throughout the country, they hold drop-in English programs twice a day, every day, at many of their offices. This is where Ellsa and I came in. English-speaking tourists are encouraged to drop in and help the students practice their English. We decided to check it out on our first full day in the city, and when we left the two-hour session, I left a piece of my heart behind. I went back twice more, and I only wish we had been able to stay longer so that I could keep going back again and again.

Most of the students who come to Big Brother Mouse are the same age as my students back home. Their education is poor, but they are eager to learn. None of them have ever left Laos, and they are infinitely curious about the world. It’s hard to know where to start. I tried to tell them about hockey, for example, but how well can you really explain ice hockey to a group of teens who have never seen ice bigger than a cube in a drink? They wanted to know what I teach, but chemistry is unfamiliar to them, and most have never seen a periodic table. Even the size of Canada was somewhat unfathomable – how can Laos be so much smaller than even just one province of another country? However, the less they showed that they knew, the more I wanted to teach them. As much as I love my students back in Canada, it was pretty great to have a group of students that hung on every word I said, took notes of their own accord, and asked question after question no matter what the topic.

The Laotian kids see English as a gateway to a better life. They would rather be a tour guide than a farmer. Post-secondary education is an unreachable dream for many of them. They would love to become doctors, or pilots, or even teachers, but their families simply cannot afford the tuition. I realize that this is a problem in Canada as well, but at least we have scholarships, bursaries, and student loans to help bridge the gap. The kids in Laos need more bridges. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll go back and start building.

In between sessions at Big Brother Mouse, Ellsa and I admired the temples, explored the caves, and ate the street food of Luang Prabang. The food at the night market is particularly amazing. What looks like a neglected alley by day becomes a busy bunch of buffets by night. Huge piles of every kind of noodle imaginable are scattered among a rainbow of vegetables, and for the equivalent of three dollars Canadian, you can fill up a large bowl with whatever you think you can eat (your eyes will be likely bigger than your stomach). The Laotian women running the buffets will stir fry your selected food on the spot, then point towards where they want you to sit. You’ll squeeze yourself into a spot along the bench and quickly make friends with the other tourists sitting around you. Everyone is well fed and in high spirits, and the entire alley is filled with the loud buzz of cheerful voices, speaking in languages from around the world. Though you may not be able to identify everything that you’re eating, the curries and sauces that coat your blend of noodles and veggies were made to go together, and everything both tastes and smells delicious. Unfortunately I can’t tell you the names of many Laotian dishes, but I am pleased to have had my fill of them.

My only mishap in Luang Prabang happened while trying to catch a boat to the Pak Ou caves. We had already missed the boat on our first day, unaware that they only leave in the morning. On day two, we got up earlier and headed right to the nearest dock, only to be told that the boat just left. We decided to try the next dock over, and the boat there was just leaving as we arrived. The men at the top of the point shouted down to their colleagues below to wait for two more passengers, and they pointed at the concrete staircase we should descend. Not wanting to miss the boat, we hurried down the stairs, which ended abruptly at the muddy river, the boat now just a few metres away. I assumed that the water had simply risen a few inches over the concrete, so I continued to hurry forward. For a couple of steps, my assumption was correct, but the next thing I knew, I stepped forward and plunged down into chest-deep water. The men on the boat had a good laugh before pointing to the small path through the bushes that we should have followed instead. My pride was hurt, but, more importantly, I was worried about my belongings, which were in my cloth bag and thus got soaked right along with me. All was well in the end, though. My phone still works, I didn’t have any books along that day, and I can now look back and laugh about it. Lesson learned? The early bird gets the worm… and the late bird gets the bath.

Aside from a new language and currency, the transition from Thailand to Laos did not seem to bring about many changes. I’m sure there are many differences to the locals, but just as Seattle and Vancouver have a fair bit in common, Vientiane was, to us, not too different from Phuket.

We checked out a couple of Buddhist temples there, and they were ornate and beautiful, just as those we’d seen in Thailand… but the real highlight of Vientiane was the food. As delicious as Thai food is, three weeks of it will make you yearn for something different. In Vientiane, we found the Scandinavian Bakery, where we filled up on bagels and croissants, and even better, the Taj Mahal Restaurant. Proudly decorated with large photos of the Taj Mahal and maps of India, this little gem of a restaurant has been established on a quiet side street in Laos. It had easily some of the best Indian food I’ve ever eaten, and we feasted for under eight dollars each, including drinks. I felt a twinge of guilt for not eating any Laotian food in the capital city, but I have no regrets.

Vang Vieng is much more rural and remote than Vientiane. The main town has been overpopulated with tourists, which is rather unfortunate, but if you explore the outskirts, you’ll find plentiful rice fields and cow herds amongst the towering limestone karsts and the crystal-clear tribunaries of the Nam Song river.

The river itself is what originally drew so many tourists to the area. Its lazy flow as it winds through the beautiful surrounding jungle makes it perfect for floating down in an inner tube. Ellsa and I liked this idea just as much as the next tourist, and we were happy to spend an afternoon afloat. The sun was shining in a bright blue sky, and the water was cool and refreshing. Occasionally a group of kayakers would overtake us, and they would make sure we were extra refreshed by splashing us with their paddles. The local guides seem to encourage it. They thoroughly surprised me the first time, but it was all in good fun. Aside from the kayakers, it was a quiet and peaceful ride; at times, we seemed to be the only people for miles around. Tubing down the Nam Song was certainly one of the most relaxing experiences of the trip, and of my year.

Though we had to endure a long, gut-wrenching bus ride to get there, Pai was a nice place to relax after our wild time in Chiang Mai. With a local population of only two thousand, it’s a quiet place where you can quickly get your bearings. Unfortunately, Ellsa got hit with some sort of stomach bug while we were here, so she didn’t get to see much of the nature surrounding the village. On the bright side, the place we stayed was an excellent one for her to spend a day relaxing in. We stayed at Pai Country Huts, and our cozy little hut was a highlight for both us.

Pai’s dirt roads often turn to mud in the rainy season (which is now), so the small town’s architecture features a number of houses and huts built on stilts (to be fair, this is common in Thailand, but not in the cities, where we have spent most of our time so far). Building materials include stone, brick, and wood, but the most popular appears to be bamboo and palm leaves, which is what our temporary home was made of. The bamboo provides a strong (though very squeaky) frame and floor, while the expertly woven palm leaves form the walls and roof, creating an airy and comfortable one-room hut. Ours was complete with a front porch and hammock, as well as a private washroom in the back. It was our personal paradise for two nights.

Ellsa says that she felt like a princess in the large mosquito-netted bed, while my favourite spot was the hammock. I spent the first night in it, partly because I wanted to avoid catching Ellsa’s illness, but partly because I liked the idea that I could sleep outside and not freeze to death! It was such a peaceful place, and I soaked in the atmosphere, looking up at the stars and listening to the crickets. The humidity in the air provided a natural blanket of warmth, and I drifted off to sleep counting my blessings. The morning dew brought a surprising chill, and around 5 am I ended up joining Ellsa in her princess bed after all, but I still fully enjoyed that night.

We were greeted in the morning by a number of enthusiastic roosters from neighbouring farms. I made my way across the river (by bamboo bridge, of course) to meet up with my tour group for the day. We were eight in all, coming from India, Israel, France, China, and Canada. Everyone spoke at least some English, so we were all able to converse with one another, which was especially good because our Thai guides were not especially talkative; they simply took us from place to place and gave us a time at which to come back to the truck. We saw some pretty fascinating places though. They took us through a series of bat-filled caves by combination of foot and bamboo raft, and waited while we soaked in the mildly warm natural “hot” springs in the middle of the jungle. The best part of the the tour, however, was the waterfall.

I think it’s called Pam Bok Waterfall, but I am not entirely sure. Here’s what I do know: somewhere in the jungle surrounding Pai, there is a waterfall unlike any I have seen before. What made it unique was that the huge volume of moving water did not fall straight down, but followed a slope, sliding down over what seemed to be an impossibly large boulder. The result? An excellent natural waterslide! When we arrived at the falls, it was raining buckets. Half of my tour group was deterred by the rain, and the other half, by the slight risk involved… but I was not about to pass up the opportunity to literally slide down a waterfall! I took my time climbing up the slippery boulders alongside the falls, taking care to ensure I found footholds with a decent amount of grip. Next, I waited and watched. I wasn’t going to try this stunt until I saw that it was safe. I didn’t have to wait long, though, as soon enough, four young Chinese men made their way to the very top and took the plunge, and all four emerged from the pool below with big smiles and thumbs up. If they could do it, so could I.

The water was icy cold – refreshing, but quite a surprise, since every other body of water we’d been to in the country had been like bathwater. I hesitated at the very top, the loud sound of the rushing water overpowering my senses. However, when I looked up, I saw that the young Chinese men were now watching ME – and cheering me on. Their little show of support was all I needed, and I went for it, immediately glad I did. What an adrenaline rush! My only regret is not having time to go again.

Chiang Mai truly offers the best of both worlds: it’s a lively city surrounded by a thriving jungle. You can play with elephants and go whitewater rafting by day, and get caught in the endless winding streets of the market by night… which is exactly what we did.

Spending half a day with a pair of elephants was a definite highlight, not just of Chiang Mai, but of our entire three weeks in Thailand. We made sure to choose one of the elephant parks that takes proper care of these magnificent creatures – no riding or circus-style shows allowed. Unfortunately many tourist attractions still offer these activities, the training for which is a horrible, torturous process for the elephants. Our guide, one of the caretakers, gave us a very passionate, if somewhat mood-dampening, speech about it. However, the rest of our day was an absolute blast!

After being suited up in elephant caretaker outfits, complete with gum boots and “fighting sticks” (which were apparently for hitting snakes in case we encountered any), we met two female Asian elephants, one named Lucky, and the other named something in Thai that I can’t even attempt to spell. To gain their trust, we started by feeding them a few coconuts, and a ton of bananas. You could either hand them a banana (or several), which they accepted by curling the end of their trunk around it, or you could feed it into their mouth directly, giving you a chance to feel their smooth, wet, and surprisingly dense tongue. Their mouths are V-shaped, and they quickly push the food from the narrow front area back towards their teeth, which are dull but strong, and can easily crush entire coconuts and thick shoots of bamboo. Occasionally, one would stick its trunk right into the other’s mouth. Our guide told us that they were smelling each other’s breath, curious to know what they’re eating. Their sense of smell is much stronger than their eyesight, and they rely on it heavily. Both of the elephants were very eager for the bananas we had to offer, and they kept reaching their trunks out for more even after we had run out. They continued eating almost the entire time we were with them; though they were partial to bananas, they seemed to be able to eat pretty much anything growing in the surrounding jungle.

The next part of our adventure was a short trek through the jungle, following our new elephant friends through the mud, in whichever direction they saw fit. My foot made up only the radius of Lucky’s footprint! The mud was thick, but the elephants didn’t seem bothered, even as they slid down steep terrain. They just kept moving, one giant foot in front of another, pulling down branches to snack on as they went. For me, however, the mud posed a much bigger challenge. The further we went, the harder it was to pull each foot from the mud, until finally I got completely stuck. I had to pull my foot right out of my boot, then use my hands to dig it out, sinking further into the mud all the while. The tour guide just laughed and said I would have to pay him for the boot if I couldn’t get it out. Luckily I did, but it was quite a struggle! The trek was well worth it, though. Inhaling the sweet, earthy smell of the jungle and listening to the melodious birds and rhythmic insects was an experience I won’t soon forget. Besides, the mud was soft and warm, and washed off easily during our next activity – bathing the elephants!

After trading our fighting sticks for buckets, we waded into the waist-deep river. Our Thai guides herded us out of the elephants’ way so that the huge mammals could sit, then lie down in the water. Lucky and her friend seemed pleased to have the chance to cool off, as were we! We were given some sort of plant matter – possibly bamboo – to use as a scrub brush. The elephants didn’t take long to wash, and our focus on scrubbing their thick, leathery hides was soon lost, as an all-out waterfight began! I haven’t mentioned this yet, but another reason that our time with the elephants was so much fun, is that we were also there with fun people. Besides Ellsa and I, our group included Max and Merijn – young Dutchmen we had met on our bus to Chiang Mai, Micha and Sabreena – elementary school teachers from Toronto, and Dan – a high school shop teacher from Colorado. We all ended up spending the rest of the day together: going whitewater rafting in the afternoon, and going out for burgers and drinks in the evening. I love how quickly travelers band together as friends. Great people make for great memories!

Back in the heart of Chiang Mai, a different type of jungle awaits. When the sun goes down, the market goes up! There are, in fact, multiple night markets, which pop up on different streets depending on the day of the week, but all of them are amazingly crowded and colourful! The flow of people is tremendous, and the booths – selling clothing, jewelry, carvings, weavings, and every snack known to Thailand – seem to go on forever. You can eat just about anything deep-fried (I had a banana and a ball of gooey cheese), and just about anything on a stick (our favourite was “sugar toast” – basically a small loaf of bread dipped in butter and sugar). Entertainers stand in the middle of the street and add to the atmosphere, ranging from talented guitarists and violinists, to young children who think they can sing but haven’t yet refined that ability. The darkness of the evening brings the temperature down from unbearable heat to comfortable warmth, and the city seems to wake up from the slow, sleepy day and truly live at night. It’s an amazing place to be.

The small cities of Lopburi and Sukhothai both contain 400-year-old ruins of the grand temples and palaces from their glory days. There aren’t as many tourists here, so we had the opportunity to experience the trains and buses that the locals take, as well as, of course, plenty of authentic Thai food.

In Lopburi, we visited the famous Phra Prang Sam Yot, better known as the monkey palace. The building itself is not much to look at, more or less a pile of stones, but the entire palace is surrounded by monkeys – at least a hundred of them in an area about the size of a school gym. They made Ellsa a bit nervous, so she asked the ticket office for a bamboo stick to defend herself (this is what the Thai tour guides were doing). Hilarity ensued, however, as one of the young monkeys saw the stick as a plaything rather than a threat. I had a good laugh watching Ellsa, who tried to shake the monkey off while shouting, “This is defeating the purpose of the stick!”

To be fair, it was her turn to laugh at me not long after. I asked to borrow the stick, curious to see if I could get one of the monkeys to play with me in the same way. Coaxing one to come play was easy, but when I allowed it to climb up on my shoulder and play with my hair, another monkey came to join the fun. Then another. And another. With four monkeys clinging to me, I started to get nervous, realizing I had no idea how to get them off. Shaking did no good, and Ellsa was too scared of them to help, so I awkwardly piggy-backed four monkeys around the palace yard until a Thai man shook his stick at them and yelled angrily, and they all jumped off and ran away.

The best strategy, we found out, was to watch the monkeys from inside the ruined palace (even though the bats there made Ellsa uncomfortable). Iron gates have been installed in all of the doorways, and the monkeys are not allowed inside, so entering allows you observe them – and them to observe you – in what feels like the reverse of a zoo. You’re the one inside the cage! Unsurprisingly, the babies were the most fun to watch. Adorable bundles of energy, they never stopped moving, squirming even when their mothers tried to hold them still for grooming. They were also the most interactive, and would grab onto your outstretched finger with a soft, tiny hand, or copy you if you stuck out your tongue. They squeaked and chattered and fought over food with their siblings… not unlike human children! Although the monkeys are pests to the locals – we saw them steal food right off a farm truck stopped at a light – they are undeniably entertaining.

Sukhothai, unlike Lopburi, is quiet, peaceful, and monkey-free. We explored the “Old City” on a seven-hour bicycle tour, run by Cycling Sukhothai. I would highly recommend it. Our guide, who goes by the English name Pete, was a 24-year-old Sukhothai native with a degree in English language. We had a really excellent day with him. Not only did he describe interesting details of the history behind each place we visited, but he answered all of the questions we could think of about modern Thai life and culture, and he was fun to chat with in general.

The Old City of Sukhothai is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and is set apart from the new city. It covers quite a large expanse, so cycling is a great way to see as much as possible in one day. We fed the numerous huge, aggressive catfish in the moat around the “Temple Surrounded by Golden Water” (roughly translated). We gazed up at the towering “Big Buddha,” who is said to have often talked to the king’s armies before they were sent into battle (in reality, the king would have someone give a rousing speech while hiding behind the Buddha’s head). We wandered among the countless “chedis” that surround the biggest temple of the city (“chedis” are bell-shaped towers, with no doors or windows, supposedly containing relics – teeth, hair, small bones, etc. – of Buddha). The hours flew by like minutes.

Even cycling from place to place was enjoyable, despite the 35-degree weather. The city is completely flat, making it perfect for cycling, as well as rice farming, which we saw constantly throughout Sukhothai and on our train ride there. Pete took us on quiet back roads that weave through small farms and neighbourhoods, and he pointed out things along the way: banana and mango trees, rats in the rice fields (apparently they taste like chicken), a local furniture business that does every step from harvesting the lumber to selling the product… snapshots of what life is like in a small city in Northern Thailand. The fresh air in our lungs and warm sun on our skin brought joy to our hearts; it was a wonderful way to spend the day.

The main beaches of Phuket and Phi Phi lacked the tranquility we had enjoyed in Ao Nang. They were, however, still beautiful, with soft white sand, clear blue water, and coral reefs within swimming distance of the shore. We enjoyed a long, lazy afternoon reading and watching parasailors on Patong Beach. On Ao Sane Beach, we rented snorkel masks and explored the underwater ecosystem until the undertow of the current became too strong as the tide went out in the evening.

Once the sun goes down, both Phi Phi and Phuket light up with bars, clubs, and similar attractions. Though Ellsa and I did walk down Phuket’s Bangla Street – known for its night life, and full of scantily clad women and poles – we found our fun for the night elsewhere. Specifically, we wandered into the Jung Ceylon shopping center, and came across a Japanese amusement park for children. We were not permitted to enter the bouncy castles or ball pits, but the arcade section was open to all ages, and it was full of novelties to enjoy!

The first game that caught my eye was a drumming game, reminiscent of Rock Band but with the bright, colourful, overly cute animations one would expect from a Japanese children’s arcade. I rocked it (obviously). Ellsa then came first in a horse race, her steed a plastic horse perhaps just a little too small for her, which glowed different colours and rocked back and forth as the game was played. Teaming up, we successfully sprayed water at rubber ducks to send them bobbing through a doorway (though we had to kneel on the floor in order to reach the spray guns), and fought off hungry piranhas and skeleton ghosts while sitting inside a fairly convincing pirate ship. We finished off by throwing plastic balls into the open mouth of a dinosaur, who looked suspiciously like a hungry hungry hippo. Overall, in my opinion, we had way more fun than anyone on Bangla Street.

Another fun time to be had on the Thai islands is visiting a fish spa. Ellsa opted out of this one, nervous that her feet would be too ticklish, but I had to give it a try, and I’m glad I did. I went to Doctor Fish on Koh Phi Phi, and I would highly recommend them if you’re ever in the neighbourhood. The two ladies working there were extremely friendly, helping me to bandage my toe (I had ripped off half my toenail the day prior) both before and after the spa experience. They even provided me with extra bandages and care advice! Before I put my feet into the tank, I was assured that the nibbling fish would tickle only for the first two minutes or so, and then I would grow accustomed to it. I didn’t, and struggled to keep still for most of the twenty minutes I was there. Regardless, it was a thoroughly enjoyable and unique experience.

Just watching the fish consume their meal of dead skin cells was fascinating on its own. They varied in size, pattern, and colour, but were all toothless and had big mouths for sucking up debris. I kept an eye out for the biggest fish, about the length of my middle finger and the width of my thumb, since they tickled me the most, and I needed to prepare myself for when they came for a nibble, lest I kick and scare all the fish away. Despite my need to focus on the swimming around my feet, the setting of the spa was very peaceful. A soundtrack of tropical bird calls distracted from the hustle and bustle of the market just outside, and the coolness of the air-conditioned room was an immensely welcome feeling. All in all, it was a great way to forget about my hangover from the night before.

(Yes, I had been pulled in by the lure of 150 baht ($6) bucket cocktails. Ellsa and I decided that if we were on a party island, we might as well have a night out. It was fun, and made Go Fish a far more entertaining game, but a bucket is a large amount of booze to consume all at once, and I don’t think I’ll be doing it again. What drives people to drink that much night after night is beyond me!)