The year was 1971 when Armand and Mary, a travel agency's dream team, went on tour for the summer:
We took a forty-thousand mile plane trip last summer, touching down at various and sundry islands all over the South Pacific. Especially wonderful were Bora Bora, James Michener's Bali Hai, an island he called the most beautiful in the world; Western Samoa, where we stayed at Aggie Grey's as hospitable and lovely a hotel as the advertisements claim; Nuku Alofa, capital of Tonga, home of the gentle grifters, but still very much worth visiting; Fiji, where we spent several days on an island in one of those beach hotels - you step right out of your room into the coral waters.
We spent a week and a half in New Zealand, mostly in the southern island, among the fjords and mountains including Milford Sound and Mt. Cook, both of which we'd rate with the most spectacular scenic areas in the world. We went through a glow worm cave, but this you have to see to believe.
A month in Australia allowed us to do most the continent, including an assortment of outback scenery, koala bears, kangaroos, the giant karri tree of the southwest tip of the country, the Great Barrier Reef, and a train trip of three days across the endless Nullarbor Plains (a desert with one stretch where the train track is absolutely straight for three hundred miles).
Then New Guinea, as primitive as Australia is modern. We are glad to report that the head hunters proved friendly, though they do look a bit on the fierce side. Java and Bali meant millennial Hindu-Buddhist temple ruins, lovely dancers, and underdressed "topless" girls. Bangkok was unique with its temples and canals or klongs.
We finished off the Pacific Odyssey with a week in Japan: Tokyo, Kyoto, Nikko and Fuji. The mountain remained behind cloud or smog the whole time, but Nikko had brilliant weather to grace the beauties of its shrine, Kyoto's gardens and geisha party and sukiyaki dinner (except for the intricacies of handling chopsticks) were no let down, and Tokyo is quite a megalopolis by any standard.
Mary had enough travelling by then, but Armand went out to Utah, Arizona and New Mexico, ostensibly to visit relatives, but also to attempt to cross the Grand Canyon on foot from the North to the South Rim. It was touch-and-not go for a while in the 120 degree heat but he made the twenty-four miles in fifteen hours, and still cannot quite figure out how.
We took a forty-thousand mile plane trip last summer, touching down at various and sundry islands all over the South Pacific. Especially wonderful were Bora Bora, James Michener's Bali Hai, an island he called the most beautiful in the world; Western Samoa, where we stayed at Aggie Grey's as hospitable and lovely a hotel as the advertisements claim; Nuku Alofa, capital of Tonga, home of the gentle grifters, but still very much worth visiting; Fiji, where we spent several days on an island in one of those beach hotels - you step right out of your room into the coral waters.
We spent a week and a half in New Zealand, mostly in the southern island, among the fjords and mountains including Milford Sound and Mt. Cook, both of which we'd rate with the most spectacular scenic areas in the world. We went through a glow worm cave, but this you have to see to believe.
A month in Australia allowed us to do most the continent, including an assortment of outback scenery, koala bears, kangaroos, the giant karri tree of the southwest tip of the country, the Great Barrier Reef, and a train trip of three days across the endless Nullarbor Plains (a desert with one stretch where the train track is absolutely straight for three hundred miles).
Then New Guinea, as primitive as Australia is modern. We are glad to report that the head hunters proved friendly, though they do look a bit on the fierce side. Java and Bali meant millennial Hindu-Buddhist temple ruins, lovely dancers, and underdressed "topless" girls. Bangkok was unique with its temples and canals or klongs.
We finished off the Pacific Odyssey with a week in Japan: Tokyo, Kyoto, Nikko and Fuji. The mountain remained behind cloud or smog the whole time, but Nikko had brilliant weather to grace the beauties of its shrine, Kyoto's gardens and geisha party and sukiyaki dinner (except for the intricacies of handling chopsticks) were no let down, and Tokyo is quite a megalopolis by any standard.
Mary had enough travelling by then, but Armand went out to Utah, Arizona and New Mexico, ostensibly to visit relatives, but also to attempt to cross the Grand Canyon on foot from the North to the South Rim. It was touch-and-not go for a while in the 120 degree heat but he made the twenty-four miles in fifteen hours, and still cannot quite figure out how.
Photo: Craig