We explored Taipei’s distinctive sites, history and culture during a 4-day visit. This video is also available on YouTube.

We explored Taipei’s distinctive sites, history and culture during a 4-day visit. This video is also available on YouTube.

I fell in love with Nepal more than 50 years ago — first as a trekker, then as a Peace Corps Volunteer. It’s the birthplace of my wife, Champa, and it remains close to my heart. I’ve returned to Nepal many times and have written about it often on this blog. Here are some favorite posts:
Former Student Reaches Out After Years
Grandchildren Visit, Video, 2022
Momo Dumplings in Australia, New Zealand
Mountains Compared to Others Worldwide
NY Times Op-Ed Article I Wrote About Nepal
Peace Corps Service Compared to Moldova
Located between Romania and Ukraine, Moldova is a small country with a fascinating culture and history. I wrote about it often while serving there as a Peace Corps Volunteer in 2016-18 and continue to write about it occasionally. I’ve gathered some of these posts below. Moldova also features prominently in my book, Not Exactly Retired: A Life-Changing Journey on the Road and in the Peace Corps.
Travel changes your life. These selected posts from Not Exactly Retired discuss where to go, how to navigate and what to expect on the road:
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Amazing but False Stories Tourists are Told
Assessing Danger of Foreign Travel
Combining Travel and Volunteering
Cruising at a Reasonable Price
Escaping U.S. Turmoil Overseas
Phone Calls, Free Online Options
Planning for Serendipity in Travel
Travel Planning is Half the Fun
Travel Surprises and Serendipity
Travel, Fresh Perspective on Home
Travel, Seeing World with New Eyes
People are looking for new meaning in retirement, a trend that Not Exactly Retired has explored often. Here are some of the blog’s past posts on downsizing, lifelong education, medical challenges and other topics, along with several media profiles of us that also focused on retirement.
Profiles About Us that Discuss Retirement:
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Not Exactly Retired Posts:
Helicopter Pilot’s New Life in Sri Lanka
Mulling What’s Next: Resources
Online Learning; OLLI; Adult Education
Pandemic’s Impact on Older Travelers
Photo Archiving to Reduce Clutter
Traveling the “Hippie Trail” in the 1970s
Not Exactly Retired has featured destinations around the world. Here’s a selected list to help you find places that may interest you.
Georgia, Tbilisi, marionette theater
Netherlands, Amsterdam, Free Speech
North Carolina, Durham for Retirees
Ukraine, War, Europe’s Response
Ukraine, Similarities to Moldova
Did you hear what happened to the island nations near Venezuela after U.S. forces captured Nicolás Maduro in Caracas?
No? I didn’t think so. These islands suffered collateral damage but were largely ignored. Call them the Collaterisles.
Trinidad and Tobago is just seven miles from the Venezuelan coast. Aruba is 15 miles away. Curaçao, Bonaire and Grenada are a little further.
All were affected by the U.S. military action. American, Delta, United and other airlines canceled flights to the region. Cruise lines canceled visits. Thousands of American tourists were stranded. Local hotels, restaurants and other businesses lost critical income during their peak New Year holiday season.
Nations across the region expressed alarm about the U.S. military action, which they regarded as a violation of international law, but had to navigate the situation carefully. U.S. officials focused on Venezuela and said little about the broader impact.
This didn’t surprise me. It’s what I’ve seen in other countries we’ve visited that suffered collateral damage from U.S. actions.
In Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge took power and unleashed a genocide following U.S. actions focused mainly on neighboring Vietnam. We visited the killing fields there, where these skulls, above, are part of a memorial. In Chile, U.S. Cold War concerns led to the overthrow of President Salvador Allende and the emergence of a brutal military dictatorship, as we saw documented at the Museo de la Memoria in Santiago, below.
In the Caribbean, U.S. military interventions have included Cuba, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, Grenada and others, all affecting the wider region. Fortunately, the latest events in Venezuela appear to be having a limited impact on its island neighbors, some of whom were probably happy to see Maduro ousted from power. I don’t claim to be a Latin American expert and I don’t really know, but the script felt familiar when we visited there last month.
Champa and I just returned from a Southern Caribbean cruise we booked mainly to visit friends in Grenada and Trinidad. (The unexpected bonus was escaping a winter storm back home.)
As you can see in the photo, we spent a wonderful day with our Grenadian friend Glenda. Champa worked with her in Maryland many years ago and we’ve been friends ever since. We were delighted to finally visit her beautiful Spice Island home, below, and meet her sister, Carol.
Our planned stop in Trinidad, on the other hand, was canceled because of the situation in Venezuela. Our cruise stopped instead in Antigua, which was lovely but not where we wanted to go. It turned out we would have missed our Trinidadian friends anyway, and we hope to visit them in the future, but it was annoying to have our plans changed by a situation that had nothing to do with Trinidad.
Rescheduling a cruise stop is decidedly a first world problem, but economic hardship for a developing economy is more serious. Genocide and military dictatorships are far worse. All can result when smaller nations get in the way of superpowers pursuing their perceived interests. We also saw this while living in Moldova, which spent decades under Soviet rule and is still resisting Russian domination.
Smaller nations are like the dishes that smash when a bull rampages through a china shop. The bull may not intend harm, or even notice it, but the dishes smash just the same. Halfway around the world from China, Venezuela’s island neighbors illustrate this broken china dilemma. They are shards of truth reflecting how precarious it can be to live nearby when a superpower takes action.
I never expected to become someone who likes cruising.
Whenever I saw a television ad featuring adrenaline-filled action and frantic gaiety on a giant cruise ship, I thought to myself: “that’s not for me.” The idea of being trapped in a confined space with thousands of strangers, visiting ports on a crowded tour bus rather than on my own, was unappealing. I didn’t even need to see the drunken conga line.
I’ve been surprised, therefore, to discover how much I enjoy an occasional cruise, especially as a way to visit multiple places that are challenging to reach otherwise, such as in Alaska (shown below), the Caribbean or the Greek islands.
Could I organize such a trip myself? Sure, but it’s easier on a cruise ship, where Champa and I can unpack once and wake up every morning with a new location to explore. We generally have only one day in each port, but that’s enough to get a taste of a place. When we cruised around southeastern Australia a year ago, for instance, we spent several busy hours daily in Melbourne, Adelaide and other stops. We didn’t see everything but we saw a lot.
I planned these excursions myself, studying beforehand what to see and how to get there. We ended up seeing more than we would have on one of the excursions organized by the ship, without a crowd, for a fraction of the price. We made good use of local tourist offices, free walking tours, city apps, Uber, Google Maps and other resources.
Overpriced port excursions aren’t the only thing we avoid on cruise ships, which make much of their money from selling extras. We exercise cruise control with everything. We don’t buy the photo packages, gamble in the casinos, get expensive spa treatments, attend art auctions or shop at the onboard boutiques. Instead of spending hundreds or thousands of dollars during the cruise, like many passengers, we spend little or nothing. We also don’t stay in the fanciest cabins, although we do prefer cabins with a window.
Cruise lines vary widely in what they offer. Some provide all-inclusive experiences with caviar and butlers. We can’t afford those and probably would feel out of place even if we could.
At the other end of the spectrum, we also felt out of place on a Carnival Cruise we took from Charleston to the Bahamas. That ship’s party vibe, as shown in the top photo, was intense and the upselling was relentless. But Charleston was near our home and we got an incredible deal, so we enjoyed it nonetheless. We’ve also sailed on some less conventional ships, such as the one shown here that took us along the Mekong River from Laos to Thailand, or an overnight trip on Vietnam’s Halong Bay. Both of those were memorable and fun.
Are we being cheap or denying ourselves the full cruise experience with our approach? Honestly, it doesn’t feel that way, at least to us. We’re not missing out on anything we care about. We’re eating good meals, watching free shows, listening to free music, working out in the gym, chatting with nice people and relaxing onboard. We have a good time, subsidized by the many passengers who choose to indulge in the various services.
When you view a cruise primarily as transportation, it can be a surprisingly good way to travel in certain situations.
We’re about to leave on our latest cruise, to the southern Caribbean. We chose it because we wanted to visit friends in both Grenada and Trinidad, as well as some neighboring islands. We considered flying or taking long ferry rides from island to island, but it was vastly easier to do this, and probably cheaper, too.
Unfortunately, several ports on our itinerary are near Venezuela. One has already been switched out for security reasons following the U.S. attack there. We’re crossing our fingers that everything goes smoothly.
In the meantime, I’m reviewing the ship’s dinner menu online and considering what to order our first night on board. The lobster bisque looks good.
We did a lot of traveling in 2025 but we couldn’t escape the chaos of what was happening back home.
Champa and I decided after last year’s election to spend more time abroad. We journeyed from Australia to Sri Lanka to the Balkans, pursuing our passion for travel while trying to put America’s troubles in our rearview mirror.
But we couldn’t avoid them, no matter where we steered.
When we visited New Zealand at the beginning of the year, we had dinner with a group of Canadians who asked why our country was disrespecting them despite Canada being our closest friend. In Kathmandu, we had lunch with friends who live next door to an apartment complex where USAID employees were in the process of moving out.

In Dubai, we visited at the same time our president was in town toasting the country’s autocratic leaders. In Germany, we attended a candlelight ceremony honoring diversity and cultural inclusion — the same values under siege back home.
Our friends in Moldova, where we served in the Peace Corps, wondered why the United States was slashing its support of their neighbor, Ukraine. Throughout our travels, our hotel televisions aired discussions about the United States turning away from its democratic allies.

We spent about half of the year in the United States, where we watched some friends lose their jobs helping developing countries and other friends struggle to continue their life-saving scientific research. Several people I hired at Duke University more than a decade ago were forced out by budget cuts.
When we had dessert at a friend’s house in Durham, one of the other guests told us her fiancé had just been locked up by ICE. Another local friend said she was reluctantly changing careers because there’s so little funding for public health. At a community organization where I volunteer in Durham, they’re facing serious budget pressures. At another Durham nonprofit where I help prepare and serve food, they’re coping with layoffs and program cuts.
Both at home and abroad, it’s been impossible to escape the ugliness that defined America this past year and metastasized beyond our shores. Even in remote areas of Nepal, where Champa and I traveled to dedicate a school we helped to build, we saw road signs for USAID projects that have since ended.
We plan to continue pursuing our travel passion in 2026. We’re leaving town again in a few weeks and will embark on an extended Asian trip in March, with West Africa and other destinations to follow. We’re at a stage in life where we want to keep going while we still can, always aware of how privileged we are to do this.

As we look ahead, though, we’ll no longer pretend to ourselves that we can, or should, separate ourselves from what’s happening. That’s proven impossible. Instead, especially as the midterm elections approach, we’ll broaden our volunteer focus and spend more of our non-travel time working to help reclaim our country.
I keep reminding myself that it’s always darkest before the dawn. During this holiday season, at the end of a stressful year, I’m grateful for our family and friends and counting our many personal blessings, but I’m also looking to the horizon.
Top photo: One of our year’s highlights was helping to dedicate the new school in Samalbung, Nepal.
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I’m starting my annual Top Ten book list with a confession:
I ended last year’s list with a vow to finally read The Power Broker, Robert Caro’s epic biography of Robert Moses, the ruthless builder of New York’s roads, bridges and parks. Alas, I only made it halfway through this 1,344-page masterpiece.
That’s because there were so many new books I couldn’t wait to read. Now that we’ve reached year’s end, I have ten great ones to recommend, starting with four nonfiction picks.
In Careless People, former Facebook executive Sarah Wynn-Williams provides a devastating look inside the company. She portrays a toxic corporate culture, unfettered power and and leaders “devoid of any normal human feeling.” Mark Zuckerberg, Sheryl Sandberg and their team pursue profit relentlessly while avoiding moral consequences. I wondered about the author’s own role in all of this but still found her account compelling.
Source Code: My Beginnings is an origin story for another tech giant. It’s Bill Gates’s memoir about his early life, ending with him establishing Microsoft. He’s remarkably open about his childhood. He struggles with his immense, but neurologically atypical, intelligence, often acting like a privileged brat. I felt compassion for his parents and teachers but especially for young Bill as he careens through adolescence before finding his calling in the emerging world of personal computers. It’s a surprisingly moving journey.
Original Sin by Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson describes how Joe Biden and his inner circle covered up his physical decline, resisting calls to drop out of the 2024 presidential race. I was disgusted as I read the details of how his enablers misled the country and paved the way for Donald Trump’s return to the White House. I already knew the basic story, of course, but still couldn’t stop reading this account based on more than 200 interviews. It would have been even sharper with a closer examination of the role of the press, including Tapper’s own network, CNN.
Miracles and Wonder: The Historical Mystery of Jesus is my last nonfiction pick. Elaine Pagels, a religious scholar at Princeton, draws on her decades of research to assess why early Christian narratives may have veered from what actually happened to Jesus. The story of his virgin birth, for example, may have emerged to counter claims of his illegitimacy. Accounts of his resurrection may be responding to the humiliating nature of his death. Ultimately, though, the story is one of hope emerging from darkness. I’m not a Christian but I found her analysis fascinating.
My favorite novel of the year was Angel Down, which Daniel Kraus writes in a single sentence divided into paragraphs and sections. It’s a supernatural horror tale set in World War One. Five soldiers encounter an actual angel stranded in No Man’s Land and try to rescue her despite the unimaginable carnage around them. Amid this horror, the soldiers demonstrate greed, paranoia, faith and hope, showing what it means to be human in the most extreme circumstances.
Death plays a central role in another fiction pick, Bug Hollow. Here it’s a single death in a much gentler setting. Michelle Huneven brings us to California to meet the Samuelson family, whose beloved son Ellis drowns in a freak accident shortly after leaving for college. The family is still reeling when Ellis’s former girlfriend appears and reveals she is pregnant, needing help. The characters navigate their grief and, especially after the baby is born, slowly come together to rebuild a family. It’s a powerful story of human resilience.
Another family drama is Vera, Or Faith, the latest from Gary Shteyngart. It’s the story of a socially awkward 10-year-old girl who must navigate both her unusual family and a country racing towards fascism. Vera’s father is a hipster Russian magazine editor, her step-mother a WASP and her biological mother a Korean woman whom Vera longs to meet. She leaves home to find her, confronting an America where white power is enacted into law and women’s rights are trampled. This bittersweet coming-of-age story is filled with Shtenygart’s usual social satire and wit.
Like Vera, the central character in Jennifer Trevelyan’s A Beautiful Family is a young girl who sees life differently. This time it’s in 1980s New Zealand. Young Alix is trying to make sense of both family tensions and the mystery of another girl who drowned in the beach town where her family is staying. Trevelyan tells the story through Alix’s eyes as she slowly gathers clues about what was actually a murder, as well as the truth about her parents’ fragile marriage.
Another of my favorite novels, Daikon, by Samuel Hawley, is set in Japan in the final days of World War II. Its premise is that the United States developed a third atomic bomb in addition to those dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This bomb fails to explode and ends up in the hands of Japan’s military, which races to reactivate it to drop on the Americans. The urgent task is assigned to a nuclear physicist who wants the war to end but is desperate to rescue his wife from prison. The fate of San Francisco and the war hang in the balance of how he responds.
Last on my Top Ten list is The Doorman by Chris Pavone, which reminded me of Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities with its biting depiction of race, class and wealth in New York City. Interlocking stories play out in an expensive apartment building on the Upper West Side. A loathsome billionaire, his beautiful wife and an arts dealer with a mid-life crisis find their futures wrapped up with the building’s doorman as racial tensions explode nearby. It’s a satiric page turner with a satisfying climax.
Other novels I enjoyed, some of which were published a year or two earlier, included Beautiful Ugly by Alice Feeney; King of Ashes by S.A. Cosby; Hotel Ukraine by Martin Cruz Smith; All the Colors of the Dark by Chris Whitaker; The Midnight Library by Matt Haig; The Quiet Tenant by Clémence Michallon; The Midnight Feast by Lucy Foley; Drowning: The Rescue of Flight 1421, by T.J. Newman; Karla’s Choice by Nick Harkaway; and Wild Houses by Colin Barrett.
Other favorites of the year included books set in countries we visited in 2025. These included A Field Guide to Happiness, by Linda Leaming, and Radio Shangri-La, by Lisa Napoli, both set in Bhutan. Black Butterflies, by Priscilla Morris, and The Tiger’s Wife, by Téa Obreht, both unfold amid war in the Balkans. David Diop’s Beyond the Door of No Return takes place in Senegal, where we hope to visit.
My favorite travel book of the year was On the Hippie Trail, by Rick Steves, which recounts the journey he and a friend made across Asia in the 1970s. That’s what my friend, Mitch, and I did as well, following a similar path. Steves’s book brought back many memories of a trip that transformed my life.
Looking ahead, I hope to finish The Power Broker, and this time I really mean it. I even took this anticipatory photo in The New York Historical gift shop claiming “I finished The Power Broker.” For now, I wish you a great year of reading and, as always, invite you to share your own suggestions in the comments section.
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