R Scott Jones

It's been more than a year since my good friend Lucie moved to Portland, Oregon, and I was overdue for a visit. It can be hard to find a good weekend, given all the travel we both do. So when we found one in early January that also had cheap flights, we jumped on it.

There wasn't really much on the itinerary for the weekend besides just hanging out. The only tourist destination I wanted to hit was Mills Ends Park, which is known as the World's Smallest City Park. And it obviously wouldn't take much time to do that.

Given the rainy weather and to keep things simple, we decided to skip outdoor adventures and just hang out in the city.

And besides, I've only visited a few of the many breweries in Portland, so this would provide a good excuse to do so while ensuring that we had plenty of time to visit.

Over the course of four days, we managed to hit a solid smattering of breweries and shared a number of flights. We caught up on the latest news about our lives, talked about our recent and upcoming trips, and plotted out future visits. It's always great to hang out with one of your favorite friends—especially over some tasty beverages.

But one of my favorite activities this weekend was simply scrolling through all of the photos we've taken together over the years. We've made a lot of fun memories.

Why Lucie and I first met

For all the adventures and good times we've had together, it's amazing that we've only known each other for a few years. We met during a backpacking trip to Havasupai in 2014 that was organized by a Meetup group called Arizona and Beyond.

It was my first trip with the group, and I didn't know anyone going on the trip. Did you just cringe at the thought?

Sure, it can be a bit uncomfortable in a situation like that. Luckily for me, I stepped beyond that initial awkwardness and went anyway. And boy, I am so happy I did.

Fry bread ftw

I first exchanged some general pleasantries with Lucie during a snack break on the hike down, though we really didn't chat much on the rest of the hike. Not long after arriving at the campground, however, we decided to split some Indian fry bread—and well, it was friends after that.

Fry bread has a way of making friends, especially at the end of a 10 mile hike.

But frankly, so do shared adventures.

The truth is that we probably would have become good friends either way after our Havasupai trip. Sharing a fun trip with others just tends to do that.

In fact, I made a number of cherished friends on that trip—ones that'd I travel extensively with. By the following weekend, I was joining many of them for a Cinco de Mayo party on Saturday and leading them on a trip to Cibecue Falls on Sunday. By the end of the summer, many of these new friends and I had completed another half dozen backpacking trips, plus a number of other day trips, happy hours, and other get togethers.

This shouldn't be that surprising. A group of adventurous backpackers is sort of right in my prime target zone for friends.

But that's the point. If you're just willing to show up, it's not that hard to make new adventure friends.

There were a number of other random topics and travel stories from our South Pacific trip I wanted to write about that didn't fit well into the specific posts about American Samoa, Samoa, and Fiji. If you haven't already read those posts, you may want to start there first.

An imperfect trip

We hadn't planned on doing this trip in 2018. But since we were so close to completing my national parks quest—and because we found some cheap(er) flights—we decided to stretch a bit and get it done this year. That would open up a possible international trip in 2019.

It wasn't the perfect timing (it's the rainy season), and we would have preferred to have a couple extra days for the trip. Given our destinations and the available flights, our itinerary would be a bit wonky too. We'd fly to Fiji from LAX, stay a night, then fly to Samoa, stay a night, then cross the island so we could fly to American Samoa from a different airport, and stay in American Samoa for a few days—before then working our way back to Fiji again. And it would cost more than we had budgeted for travel this year.

But it'd work. That's one of the tenets of our travel philosophy: an imperfect trip is always better than a perfect trip that never gets scheduled.

How we nearly missed our anniversary

One of the reasons to do the trip this year was to celebrate our three year anniversary. Because we had larger trips planned over the holidays these last two years, we've had to make due with less desirable trip destinations for our anniversary. We were hoping to finally reverse that. We'd celebrate our anniversary (a Sunday this year) in the South Pacific!

But we nearly failed—for a sneaky little reason. We would leave Phoenix on a Friday night after work, flying overnight. But because we'd cross the International Date Line during the flight, we technically wouldn't be landing until Sunday morning—missing Saturday completely. Had we booked the trip to leave a day later, as we had once considered, we would have missed our anniversary entirely this year.

It's similarly confusing when you travel from Samoa to American Samoa, which is a short 25 minute flight in a small commuter plane. Our flight departed on Tuesday at 10:35am but landed the day before, Monday, at 9:50am. Thank goodness that it was Jen who had to figure out all these bookings.

Bula!

It's hard to spend much time in Fiji—at least anywhere that tourists might go—without hearing the greeting "Bula!" countless times each day. It was downright unusual to encounter a non-tourist and not being greeted with it. It's both endearing and a bit unnerving, at least at first. On one hand, I guess it's great for your existence to be confirmed by every passerby, but it also gets a bit tedious, too—especially when you have to interrupt your conversation to respond back. If the greeting wasn't always delivered with a smile, you'd start to feel like a flight attendant robotically thanking each passenger as they deboard a plane. I'm not sure this happens at the same frequency in everyday life among local residents, but it's sure memorable when you visit from afar.

Having failed to research local customs prior to the trip, when we first landed I didn't realize that I'd be greeted with "bula" so routinely and, nursing a cold, I didn't always hear what was said.

So occasionally, I thought I heard the word "hola" as someone passed by. As an Arizonan, I'd reflexively respond with "hola," and then immediately feel stupid—like when the usher at the movie theater says "enjoy the movie" and you respond with "you too" just out of habit...and well before your brain can stop your mouth from moving. This happened more often that I'd like to admit that the first day, though I eventually developed the routine.

The resorts we booked

We're generally not what you might call "resort people." When we travel, we usually opt for cheaper accommodations, rarely choose full service hotels, and are generally more comfortable being on our own rather than constantly waited on. For instance, we'd prefer to bring our own beverages to the pool rather than order from the poolside bar—if only to save some cash.

Because we're often traveling fast, we also tend to spend very little time at the hotel to begin with. Living in Arizona, we don't view hotel pools—even really nice ones—as particularly special. We also don't spend much time relaxing on the beach, opting instead for more active activities. So booking nice resorts rarely makes sense for us.

But for this trip, the best hotel choices in Fiji and Samoa seemed to be resorts.

Sheraton Fiji Resort

We chose the Sheraton Fiji Resort largely for its price, convenient location, and the fact that it also offered us access to the pools of two additional adjacent resorts. We figured that we might better entertain ourselves with more options available to us, and we were right.

The resort is located on Denarau Island, which is basically a gated community comprised of resorts, the port where many boat tours leave from, and a golf course. It's entirely separated from the rest of city and even features a gate house at the entrance. So if you're looking for a hotel to mingle with the locals and take in some authentic Fijian culture, look elsewhere. But it is a convenient and attractive destination for those primarily concerned with relaxing by the pool and sipping fruity cocktails.

And that was our basic itinerary for our first day in Fiji—just relaxing at the resort while we acclimated to the time change. Fresh off the long (and predictably sleepless) flight from LAX, we arrived at the resort before 7am. Luckily, the resort was generous and let us check in to our room immediately. We grabbed a quick nap, applied sunscreen and bug spray, then made our way to nearest pool.

We each grabbed overpriced drinks from the poolside bar and toasted our three year anniversary. We sipped on our drinks and enjoyed the ocean view, before growing a bit bored. What can I say? We're just not very good at doing nothing while on a trip.

It didn't take long for us to notice a small convenience shop across the pool that sold wine and beer at a fraction of the cost of the poolside bar. We bought some and made our way to a second pool, turning the complimentary Fiji Water bottle from our room into a pool-safe wine glass.

The lonely woman from England who gave us a sunburn

This second pool resembled a lazy river wrapped around a tended garden, except without the jets and inner tubes. We slowly walked a few laps around, drinks in hand. Eventually, an older English woman started a conversation—one that just would not end.

It was pleasant enough, mostly focused on travel, but it was clear that she was dying for personal interaction, her husband sound asleep after some morning drinking. Minutes passed, and then an hour, and we couldn't quite pull ourselves away. Nearly two hours later, we finally managed to break off the conversation and exited the pool—only to realize how burnt we had gotten while being stuck there longer than expected.

Tanoa Tusitala Hotel in Samoa

We stayed at the Tanoa Tusitala Hotel near downtown Apia in Samoa, which would allow us to easily explore Apia Town on one of the nights. But our taxi ride through the city from the airport was uninspiring and we quickly decided to just relax at the hotel, especially since I was still sick.

It's a pleasant hotel, with lush gardens that make you to forget that you're in the middle of the city. But it's also not a very large property, so there aren't many options if you're spending substantial time there. Nonetheless, we relaxed, enjoyed some drinks, and occasionally the pool on more than one evening there.

Our Samoan waiter/taxi driver

One thing that was readily apparent in both Samoa and Fiji is that the locals are hungry for tourism dollars. We were routinely asked by hospitality workers about our trip plans, everyone angling to land or retain a customer.

Taxi drivers wanted to know if we needed another ride later in the week. Waiters would make friendly conversation about where you're visiting from and then offer to be your tour guide on their day off. While it could get a bit annoying, it was also hard not to appreciate their hustle.

So after some quality service by a waiter in Samoa, we canceled the hotel shuttle and booked him as our taxi driver the next morning to the airport.

Beers and crabs on the beach

For our last night in American Samoa, we decided to forgo the hotel bar and instead grab a six pack and enjoy the hotel pool—only to find it unexpectedly closed for maintenance. There was a small beach near our room, so we headed there instead.

We apparently crashed a crab party on the beach—there were dozens, jittering up and down the beach. They were rather timid at first, scattering across to the other end of the beach or quickly burying themselves in the sand when we approached. Eventually, however, they made their way back to where we were sitting. Luckily, I had grabbed my headlamp from my backpack, which I used to shoot this short 30-second video.

Mosquitos and Dengue Fever

One of our biggest concerns prior to the trip was the risk of mosquito-borne illness, especially given the Dengue Fever outbreak the region experienced last year. The National Park Service offers several warnings on their website, and we were cautioned by other park travelers to take the issue seriously.

And so we did. We brought long sleeved shirts and hiking pants and treated virtually everything with permethrin. We stocked up on DEET, both in spray and wipes. We arrived to find plenty of warnings—at the airport, on billboards, and in pamphlets.

And...we promptly encountered virtually zero mosquitos. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The airport in Samoa

We've flown out of some small airports in the past, but the Fagali'i Airport felt more like a small bus station than an airport. As the case with many buildings here, most of the "lobby" of the airport was lacking walls and open to the elements, sort of like a half-fale. There were some waiting benches, two desks that served as ticket counters, and a large table awkwardly placed where you might stand in line.

There was no one around, so we patiently waited in the lobby until our flight time approached, noticing that locals began lining up near the table. We soon learned that the table was akin to the security line. Two security officers used the table rummage through each passenger's luggage by hand before allowing them to check-in at the counter, a process that involves weighing both your bags and yourself.

It's hard to say that this was an effective security check. The officer looked at Jen's luggage first, opening it up to find an incredibly organized suitcase filled with a variety of Eagle Creek Pack-It travel bags—apparently not what he was used to seeing. He grunted, then peaked into a single one before passing her through. The officer must have spent a total of 5 seconds looking at just one half of my suitcase, poking my packing cube of shirts, before allowing me to pass.

After we checked in, a similar exercise with our small backpacks occurred in the hallway leading to the gate, along with a quick wanding with the handheld metal detector. A few steps further and you found yourself at the immigration desk, which featured the world's cheapest sign—literally just a sheet of copy paper with the single word Immigration printed on it.

After getting our passport stamped, we turned the corner and found ourselves in the waiting room. This small room had two glass doors exiting right out to the waiting plane with a few benches. We sat directly in front of the door. When the departing flights were announced, a worker would just pop his head into the room and say the destination's name, and a few people would shuffle out the door and onto the plane. I've had to show more proof to get my In-N-Out Burger order at the counter.

On the return flight, there was a bit of a backup at customs at this same airport. So naturally, our bags were completely waved through the security checkpoint without any inspection.

An authentic cultural experience?

I tend to be more interested in the natural environments of the places we travel to—so exploring cities and local food & culture usually takes a back seat on the itinerary to mountains, waterfalls, and coral reefs. But we both appreciated the cultural education we received during our respective land tours in both Samoa and Fiji.

Granted, throughout the trip, it was clear that there were differing levels of authenticity in some of the "traditional" cultural practices demonstrated for tourists like ourselves. For instance, there was a wide difference in the kava ceremonies performed on Schooner Island than the one performed at the village we visited. It wasn't hard to figure out which one was geared more towards tourists.

Whenever I'm in one of those situations, I always find myself wondering how much of it is authentic and how much is simple entertainment. In the end, it probably doesn't matter much. We're never in a destination long enough to really take in the intricacies of culture anyway. Broad strokes can still give you a sense of what a place is about.

Speeding tickets in Fiji

One of the more surprising things we noticed during our long bus ride in Fiji was how many speed traps there were on Queens Road, the major highway accessing the "Coral Coast" along the southern end of Viti Levu. There were both speed cameras, as well as numerous police officers standing behind their vehicles with radar guns.

I also noticed that our tour guide, standing in the front of the bus as we traveled, would routinely flash hand signals towards oncoming traffic. I asked what he was doing, and he revealed an intricate system alerting other drivers to upcoming speed traps. Apparently, flashing your lights is a ticket-able offense, so these hand signals have evolved instead. Maybe our cultures aren't so much different after all?

The only Americans around

One of the things I hadn't expected was that we'd be one of the few Americans around these islands. It doesn't matter much, of course, but it just hadn't occurred to me that we would encounter so few Americans wherever we went—we're usually quite ubiquitous in tourist destinations.

The vast majority of tourists were from Australia and New Zealand, with another smattering of English and Germans. We managed to run into some of the same tourists on different tours or islands.

"Oh, look, the Americans are on this tour, too."

Thanks for reading!

If you haven't already, be sure to check out the rest of the trip posts.

Fiji was just one of the destinations we visited during our South Pacific trip.

Our time in Fiji was split between three main days.

After arriving in the early morning from the mainland, we spent the first day at our resort on Denarau Island near Nadi, with nothing planned but to rest and acclimate to the time change. That day happened to be our three year anniversary—the first we've celebrated in a "prime" destination. The next morning, we'd fly out to visit American Samoa for a few days, followed by a couple days in the nation of Samoa, before returning to Fiji.

Back in Fiji, we spent a day snorkeling on one of those small, uninhabited islands that Fiji is best known for. And the final day, we cancelled our original plans to rent a car and find our own adventure and opted instead to book a tour that focused more on Fijian culture and the interior of the island. It was a good call.

Snorkeling off a private island

Like many of the day trips from Denarau, ours was aboard a fancy boat—a 100 ft schooner called Whale's Tale—and destined for a small "private island." Breakfast and booze were complimentary, and once on the island, we'd be greeted with a kava ceremony.

In true Fijian fashion, the uninhabited island was not much more than a few buildings on a wide sandy beach surrounded by some coral. While an idyllic setting, it's more impressive as a mental construct of a "tropical island" than it is as an actual physical location. That said, we were happy to have arrived and looking forward to the experience.

Sandwiched before and after lunch, the day was comprised of two primary "play" periods, which consisted of either a guided snorkeling trip, a ride in a glass-bottomed boat, or free time on the small island, which meant either playing sand volleyball, relaxing with a drink, or paying extra for a massage. We, of course, had arrived ready to snorkel—though we were disappointed to learn we'd have to stay with the guide.

The first snorkel was somewhat as we expected. If you're a seasoned snorkeler and are used to snorkeling on your own, getting stuck in a large crowd of first-timers can be a bit disappointing. People carelessly scare fish away, and the guide spends all of his energy trying to keep everyone wrangled. At best, it's much harder to get a clean photo without a random arm or leg in the shot. So we did our best to stay at the fringes of the crowd, and occasionally succeeded.

After a buffet lunch, we headed back out for a second snorkeling tour. With everyone else either drunk, opting for the glass bottomed boat, or playing volleyball, there were just a handful of snorkelers this time. Even better, the three others in the water with us quit after just a few minutes.

That meant it was just the two of us and the guide. Once he figured out that he didn't have to worry about us in the water, we pushed on much further than before. We were the only two Americans on the tour, so anytime the guide wanted to get our attention to show us something interesting, he'd call us America, as in "Hey America, come see this."

We swam much further from shore, even skirting deep water at the reef's edge. Covering more water meant the opportunity to see more species of both fish and coral. And since it was just the three of us, our guide could even point out specific things in the water.

This second snorkeling session was night-and-day better than the first, both in terms of the fish and coral we saw, as well as the general experience. In fact, the guide seemed to be having quite a bit of fun too, and apparently lost track of time—we hurriedly returned to the island later than we should have.

Just minutes after returning to the beach, we were back on the main boat, sipping drinks and enjoying the scenery on our return voyage.

Touring the "Jewel of Fiji"

Our last day in Fiji was dedicated to the "Jewel of Fiji" tour. This was an all-day tour that brought us halfway across the island to a small traditional village. It was a long shuttle ride—nearly three hours each way—but it also gave us an opportunity to see quite a bit of the countryside.

The waterfall

From the village, we shuttled up the Navua River in motorized wooden longboats. For a solid hour, the otherwise lush canyon walls of this gorgeous river canyon were punctuated by a number of waterfalls, of both impressive and diminutive size.

After a short hike to avoid some minor rapids, we arrived at a side canyon, with an intriguing trail leading into the dense forest. We docked, and a walked few minutes into a narrowing canyon. The interesting but awkwardly constructed trail followed a creek, which was interrupted by several small cascades and chutes eroded into the rock.

The trail ended at a substantial waterfall, with a pool large enough for swimming. We snapped some photos, dumped our stuff, and made our way into the clear pool. The water was colder than you'd expect, but still worth the chill.

Had we not just completed an amazing swimming tour of Samoa that sported similarly scenic waterfalls, this might have been the highlight of our trip. Instead, it nearly seemed old hand, like a favorite hike you've been doing for decades—a rather unexpected feeling for a desert dweller like myself who doesn't exactly swim in tropical waterfalls very often.

After the swim, we hiked back to the longboats and made our way back downstream. Part of the way back, we stopped and transitioned into a traditional bamboo raft—the primary means of local transportation prior to motors.

The raft was buoyant...but not quite enough to prevent us from getting bit wet. And of course, it was much slower and clumsier. And there were several harmless spiders doing their best to stay dry, which the other tourists were less than thrilled to notice. The lesson wasn't lost on us; things are easier these days.

Eventually, we loaded back into motorized long boats and returned to the village. The trip back was just as beautiful as the trip upriver, giving us new perspectives on waterfalls we had seen before—as well as revealing some we had missed.

The village

Back at the village, we were greeted by ceremony—the primary feature of the second half of the day. We first congregated under a fale where a lovo was being unearthed, containing a portion of our lunch. While the finishing touches were put on the meal by the women of the village, we entered the bure (the main village meeting house) to take part in an extensive welcome and kava ceremony—this one was quite a bit more involved than during the snorkeling tour the previous day.

The kava ceremony was followed by a war dance performance, and eventually by what's known as taralala and tuboto, or snake dance, which resembles a conga line. More entertainment followed, as did lunch itself.

After lunch, we congregated under a fale outside, where we learned several lessons about coconuts and a few village women demonstrated traditional weaving and tapa painting techniques.

Nearing the end of the day, we returned to the bure, which now sported handcrafted goods spread across the floor, the village woman who made them sitting behind her jewelry and souvenirs. It immediately reminded me of the roadside craft vendors on the Navajo Reservation. We perused the offerings and eventually purchased a souvenir bamboo mask, our only souvenir of the trip.

After a rendition of the traditional Fijian farewell song, Isa Lei—which is surprisingly enchanting—we returned to the shuttle bus.

Our time in Fiji was coming to a close.

What did we think of the tours, and how was our resort? Check out this post for more (coming soon).

Our travel schedule would only allow us limited time in Samoa during our South Pacific trip. So we booked a full day tour that we thought would give us a good sense of the island.

The tour was billed as exploring the "Pristine Waters of Upolu," and was the premier tour offered by Samoa Highland Adventures. An all-day adventure, it included fresh and salt water swims at five different destinations: Sauniatu Waterfall, Piula Cave Pool, Lalomanu Beach, To Sua Ocean Trench, and Togitogiga Waterfall.

In addition, we'd stop at two different mountain passes, plus a viewpoint of Papapapatai Falls—among the highest in the country. By the end of the day, we'd see nearly half of the island, making a big loop around the western side before cutting back up through the interior.

If we only had one full day in Samoa, it seemed like this was the best way to spend it.

The morning of the tour, we were met in our hotel lobby by our two tour guides, who reviewed all of the day's details. We seemed to have especially fortunate timing for our tour—it was the last day for one of our guides, and so he had brought in his successor, who happened to be a local village chief. Even better, we learned that we were the only two people on the tour.

We hopped into the vehicle and started off for our personal tour of Upolu, heading east along the coast from Apia. Along the way, we got to know our guides better, as they narrated our drive and explained some Samoa history and culture. About 45 minutes into the drive, we veered off towards the interior, our destination ahead along a steep and bumpy road.

Sauniatu Falls

The first stop of the day was perhaps our favorite.

We arrived a few minutes later in an unlikely location: an LDS compound. Yes, you read that right—we would be enjoying a unique swimming hole at a small, secluded Mormon village.

We nodded at the village entrance guard and stopped to inspect a (somewhat) traditional fale the church had built before proceeding to park. A short walk across a grassy path led you to the edge of a scenic gorge, the site of an extinct volcano. Steps were carved into the basalt and a metal railing helped you switchback your way towards the bottom.

On one side of the gorge was a waterfall, perhaps 30 feet tall, that dumped into a pool that stretched from wall to wall. The near edge of the pool lapped up against a rocky stream bed, which meandered down the canyon and vanished behind a curve in the gorge. Lush vegetation hung over the gorge rim, moss covering much of the near-vertical walls.

While not impressive in terms of height, the waterfall—tucked into this secluded and intimate gorge—was breathtaking nonetheless. We slowly made our way down and scrambled over the remaining boulders to the edge of the water. We had the entire place to ourselves.

The water was crisp, but refreshing. A few steps into the water, I had to stop to gaze around in befuddlement—wow, what a great spot. How could a place like this offer such solitude? We eventually made our way to the waterfall, where we took turns shimmying onto the ledge at its base and leaning back while the falling water forcefully pounded our neck and back. Later, we just floated for awhile, staring up at the sky through the leaves above as the calming sound of the waterfall lulled us. It was simply sublime.

And this was just the first stop. If this was any indication, it was going to be a memorable day.

Piula Cave Pool

Next on the agenda was a stop at the Piula Cave Pool, located just off the coastal highway on the grounds of a Methodist theological college. This natural freshwater pool is a popular local swimming hole—one that offers a much different visitor experience than the first.

We made our way down a long set of stone stairs from the parking area to the edge of the cave pool, which was situated between a small cliff face and the ocean between two manicured lawns and some beach fales. A concrete walkway encircles the front half of the pool, whereas the rear half features a partially submerged lava river tube that you can swim into.

About 10 kids and a handful of adults were already enjoying the outer pool when we arrived. We entered the water and left the crowd by swimming deep into the cave, passing fish and a large eel on our way. The cave went back about 50 yards, much deeper than the faint sunlight glimmering off the water could properly illuminate.

Once well into the cave, the sunlight from the entrance cast a blue glow through the water, eerily silhouetting any swimmers.

We sat at the back of the cave along an isolated but conveniently located natural ledge that resembled the bench seating of a hotel hot tub. Enjoying the moment, we chatted with our guide about what we had seen so far and what we'd see later in the day, while our guide answered other random questions we tossed at him.

By the time we exited the cave, it had started to rain—this is, after all, the rainy season here in the South Pacific—though our towels and backpacks remained shielded by the beach fale.

We made a quick stop at the garden restroom, a large roofless bathroom stall that featured numerous plants and flowers. Not a bad place to pee, really, and especially pleasant for a public restroom.

The mountain passes

Back on the road, next up were the mountain passes. We stopped for a snack at the first one, which offered excellent views of Fagaloa Bay and back into the interior of the island.

In spite of being part of the same chain of islands, Samoa looks quite a bit different than American Samoa. Whereas American Samoa was dominated by a nearly-vertical mountain spine that crept right up to the shoreline, Samoa had more graceful valleys, many of which had been put to use as plantations. Both islands feature lush tropical vegetation; but in Samoa, it seemed to consist of fewer trees and more ground cover and vines. This likely all stems from the fact that Samoa is several times larger than American Samoa, providing it quite a bit more topographical diversity. It's also clear that Samoa is home to a much more vibrant agricultural industry—we passed by quite a number of plantations.

The guide and I hopped into the bed of the truck for the journey over Le Mafa Pass, which offered unobstructed views for this especially scenic portion of the drive.

Snorkeling at Lalomanu Beach

Next on the itinerary was some beach and snorkeling time. We arrived at a small beach resort serving a beautiful stretch of beach, found some shade under two coconut trees, and grabbed our snorkeling gear.

We skipped putting on fins, which was a mistake in retrospect. The current was rather strong in the bay, which forced us to spend a fair amount of energy staying in place. While the coral reef in this area wasn't in the best shape, we did see quite a number of fish species.

When we returned to the beach after snorkeling, our guide had prepared a coconut for me to try. Once rehydrated and back into the vehicle, we continued along the south shore towards our next destination.

To Sua Ocean Trench

Featuring tended flower gardens and scenic cliff side fales, the grounds surrounding the To Sua Ocean Trench are alone worth the visit. But the trench itself is the stuff of travel magazines.

After a quick prelude at the trench rim, we wandered over and had lunch near the cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The highlight of the meal was definitely the local fruit, including the most delicious pineapple ever. A short rainstorm ensued, which was well-timed as we sat under the shelter of the fale. It's no wonder these things are seemingly everywhere in the Samoa islands.

After lunch, we wandered back across the grass to the main attraction. Harboring a scenic swimming hole, the trench is actually a 90 foot deep volcanic blowhole that's linked to the ocean by a cave. As the waves crash through the cave, the resulting muffled sounds a bit like deep breathing. Stairs make their way down the edge of the trench, with a very long and awkwardly large ladder extending down to a wooden platform positioned several feet above the water level.

The whole thing resembles some sort of primordial sinkhole with a tropical pool at the bottom and a fence encircling the cliff edge. It's one of those places that's hard to describe because it seems so unreal.

Because the trench receives both fresh and salt water, it's a bit briny. The water level fluctuates with the tide, but it's a bit deeper than what the photos show. You can cannonball off the platform without hitting the bottom, for instance. For such an iconic destination, I was surprised that there was never more than one other couple or family at the trench while we were there, and we even had it to ourselves for awhile, too.

Togitogiga Falls

Located in O Le Pupu-Pu’e National Park, these gentle cascading waterfalls would be our last swim of the day. A short walk through a lush canopy deposited us above the upper falls, where a restroom and some metal fales stood. A mossy rock staircase led into the gorge, where the lower falls fed a pool below.

Once again, we were treated to an intimate little basalt-lined canyon with moss-covered walls, featuring a waterfall-fed pool. How many of these does this gorgeous island have? The stream feeding the falls was flowing lower than usual, but it more than enough to enjoy. A small group was there when we first arrived, but—mirroring the rest of the day—we soon we had it all to ourselves.

Papapapaitai Falls viewpoint

Our last scheduled stop was the viewpoint for Papapapaitai Falls. Located across a deep canyon from the highway, the water plunges off the side of a vertical cliff face roughly 300 feet to the canyon floor. Unlike the other waterfalls of the day, I wouldn't want a neck massage from this one.

Some thoughts on our guides

The ride back to the hotel was punctuated by quite a bit of levity—mostly retelling stories of old adventures and drunken shenanigans. We made an unscheduled stop for gelato so one guide could say goodbye to a friend before he left the island. We made another quick stop for some Vailima beer to celebrate his departure.

Beyond the normal narration, the entire day had sparked interesting conversations, as we had learned a bit about both of our guides, their connection to Samoa culture, and their personal dreams. In turn, they had learned about our various travel quests, and what drove us to travel as much as we could, as well as a bit about our life in America.

The guide who was leaving was preparing to embark on an open-ended sailing adventure around the South Pacific, hoping to connect the cultures of Polynesia and keep some ancient sea navigation methods alive.

The other guide had recently returned to his native island after briefly chasing a Western lifestyle in New Zealand. He was still in the process of establishing an eco-resort back on Samoa.

We would have enjoyed the same tour with other guides—these destinations don't disappoint. But the combination of these two guides, plus being the only two on the tour, really made the day special. By the end of the day, we were friends—they even invited us to dinner afterwards.

When we booked the trip, we presumed that Samoa wouldn't be a place that we'd want to return to. We were wrong.

➞ Be sure to check out more from our trip to the South Pacific.

One of the best surprises from our recent trip to the South Pacific was a unique establishment called Tisa's Barefoot Bar. While a bit infamous, it's also an unassuming place, tucked away along a remote stretch of highway near Alega on the island of Tutuila in American Samoa.

In fact, if you weren't looking for it, you'd undoubtedly miss it. From the roadside, it's mostly just a sandy path leading through a gate with a small sign hanging above. There's about enough space for two or three vehicles to park along the shoulder of the narrow, two lane highway.

It wasn't until the late afternoon that we got the chance to stop after a day spent exploring the far eastern edge of the island. With no other vehicles stopped—and no sign of life in the bar—we weren't even sure if the place was open. Nonetheless, the name alone had offered enough intrigue for us to add it to our itinerary. So we parked and cautiously wandered in, down some steps and across a patch of inviting sand.

The setting was simultaneously entirely forgettable and remarkably scenic. While faded flags of random college sports teams hung from the ceiling above the bar on the right, displayed alongside license plates and posters for Vailima beer and cheap barstools—reminiscent of countless and otherwise nondescript dive bars—it was hard not to look to the left. There, multiple decks jetted out to the edge of the ocean, a private sandy beach lurking below the wooden planks. The entire bar was open to the air; no walls to hem you in or to dampen the soft rhythm of the waves. Whether it was open or not, this was clearly an interesting place.

As I stepped in even further, beyond the bar and towards what looked like the only structure with walls, a woman appeared, investigating who had arrived.

"Hello there," I called out.

She beelined towards me, fastening a lightweight dress (robe?) around her body as she walked, much like you might a bath towel. I got the distinct impression (read: full view) that she had been nude.

"Are you open?" I managed to ask, feeling vaguely awkward, like an unintentional peeping tom.

"Well, it depends," she responded.

"Can we grab a drink?" I quickly inquired.

That seemed to be the right question. We made some light small talk and inspected what she had to offer. She handed over the bottle of beer I ordered, and poured Jen her glass of wine, then instructed us to sit at the edge of the deck. She casually poured herself a glass of wine and followed a few steps behind, still wearing just a thin coverup.

Oh, that's interesting. This was going to be a personal visit—like meeting up with an old friend to watch the sunset and chat about life.

Between sips, we chatted about travel, about the virtues of simple life on the island, and a bit about ourselves. The conversation gently meandered from topic to topic, often punctuated by several moments of silence while we gazed towards the horizon, just enjoying the moment. We learned that Tisa had worked to create a conservation sanctuary in the bay surrounding the bar, led the push for eco-tourism on the island for decades, and also hosted an annual traditional tattoo festival at the bar.

It was clear that she really loved the place, and the lifestyle, and was content with the life she had built for herself. She lamented that we didn't have substantially more time to spend on the island, in order to really enjoy the pace of island life.

We were interrupted by a brief downpour, which served as an excellent excuse to get a fresh beverage. Some of her extended family, visiting from California, wandered by after some time playing further down the beach. All the while, Tisa held court with the two of us, ensuring that we appreciated the serenity we had found ourselves in.

Long before we wanted it to, the last moments of dusk had arrived. It was time to go—for now, at least. We'd be back the next day, we assured her. And we'd probably bring our snorkeling gear, too. After settling up and thanking her for the amazing time, we departed.

We returned two days later, eager to renew the experience. To our chagrin, however, the gate was locked, and we were flying to Samoa early the next morning. There wouldn't be a second visit—at least not this trip.

But it gave us another good reason to return to American Samoa.

If you find yourself in American Samoa, be sure to stop by at Tisa's Barefoot Bar for a drink. Or better yet, schedule to arrive on Wednesday night, when she hosts a popular traditional Samoa feast. Tisa also provides guided tours of the island by reservation, as well as accommodations.

Or, as we learned later, you can also experience Po Ula, a traditional erotic nude dance (and more?) on Fridays near the full moon. See...maybe I was right about the nude thing.

Like I said, this is an interesting place.

In addition to the cool national parks I visited in 2010, I also managed to make it to a few other notable places. Many of the places were part of work trips or extra days I added on to work trips—it's nice having a job that gets you to such awesome locales.

Here's a short list of some of the places I enjoyed visiting in 2010.

National Conservation Lands

• Red Cliffs National Conservation Area
• King Range National Conservation Area
• Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area
• Fort Stanton-Snowy River Cave National Conservation Area
• San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area
• Canyons of the Ancients National Monument

Other cool places

• Antelope Canyon
• Horseshoe Bend (of the Colorado River)
• Monterey Bay Aquarium
• San Francisco
• Mogollon Rim camping
• Washington, DC
• Roswell, NM
• Grand Falls of the Little Colorado River
• Mono Lake

It was my first time visiting Red Cliffs, the King Range, Ft Stanton-Snowy River Cave, Antelope Canyon, and Roswell.

I'll add links to my photos once I get around to posting them.

It feels like we're being unfaithful.

In less than 72 hours, Kim and I will be departing on another of our national park roadtrips. It'll be the first time we'll be roadtripping sans Forester since we got her. It feels a little weird.

It's the right decision to leave her at home - she's in need of new tires, struts, and her check engine light has been blazing for a month or two now. And we'll save some serious gas money on the trip, too. But we've created enough memories with her that it's odd to plan a trip in a different vehicle.

Not that it's been uncommon for us to take a trip in a borrowed vehicle. Our first trip together, to Las Vegas in March 1997, featured us rolling down Las Vegas Boulevard in my dad's Cadillac (we didn't even own a working car back then). We borrowed Jessica's old – well, I forget what it was, but it was old – car to get to Mt Rainier National Park in 2002. And we've put nearly as many highway miles on my mom's Highlander as she has. We enjoyed roadtrips in our Altima years ago, but even then, we often opted for my mom's SUV.

This time, we're borrowing my dad's Prius (thanks Dad!). It'll save us about $300 in gas on the trip, and well, its check engine light isn't on. But it won't be without its challenges. Our favorite cooler doesn't fit in the trunk, and I'm not even sure our backup cooler will. It doesn't have an auxillary jack for the iPod, or amazingly, even a cd player (I guess we're back to using those cassette tape adaptors). It "features" golf-related bumper stickers. Worst of all is that we won't be able to add to our (incomplete) collection of photos of the Forester in national park units. Or capture a shot of the odometer as it digitally rolls over to 130,000 miles. Or...well, you get the picture.

It's funny how attached you can get to an old friend...

We're back from our Texas Roadtrip. While it wasn't quite what we had originally planned - we ditched the camping entirely, for instance - we still had a good time and managed to see quite a bit. A few observations gleaned from our trip:

• It's great to get back a day early, so you have time to unpack, unwind, collect yourself, and get ready for the shock of going back to work. It feels great to arrive home early enough to unload the car, unpack our bags, get laundry started, and start to get things back to order.
• Nobody goes to Texas. It was incredible how few out of state license plates we saw on the trip. Usually at national park sites, many if not most, are out of state, plus some Canadian plates mixed in. But not in Texas - only Texans go to Texas parks. I guess that's not too surprising, as Texas plates are always underrepresented at other national parks.
• The Alamo is worth a quick stop, but don't arrive with high hopes and don't waste your time standing in line. It's small, surrounded by tourist trap attractions, and let's face it, only Texans care about this place. It's a cool place for a photo or two, though, to help alleviate that burning childhood desire to see an inflated icon of the West, and to mark it off the life list.
• Texas is windy as hell, and it'll affect how much fun you'll have at several sites - Fort Davis, Guadalupe Mountains, and Padre Island to name a few. Wind blows.
• The iPhone 3G is quite possibly the best piece of roadtrip gear ever. We used it to listen to music and audiobooks during the drive, and even streamed an NFL game from a NY radio station. We used the Maps app to calculate driving directions, find restaurants, and even used Street View to preview a site. We typed draft blog posts on its WordPress app, used the clock feature as our morning alarm clock, and updated friends and family using the Twitter and Facebook apps. The camera and a couple of camera apps allowed some quick shots when the camera wasn't handy. I checked and replied to email, kept up to date on my Reader items, and checked wikipedia for additional information on some of the places we visited. We searched hotel listings and prices, checked photos, and reserved online hotel deals every night - and looked up rewards account numbers. I added tasks to my to do list, blog article ideas to Evernote, and checked the next day's weather. We kept up to speed on bowl game scores and NFL stats. I even used an app to locate free wifi networks for my MacBook Pro and consulted an app on Texas speed traps. And of course, we used Safari to hit a bunch of other websites. We did all of this on a small, elegant device that fits into my pocket - wow, what a great roadtrip device.