To get to Kuala Lumpur, I chose Air Asia and Malaysia Airlines. In light of recent airplane crashes and disappearances in southeast Asia, does this seem like a foolhardy choice of airlines? Actually, I felt quite safe flying these two airlines. The staff and flight attendants seemed especially attentive to passenger safety. It's often this way. The greatest risks come when people are complacent.

In Malaysia, I divided my time between Kuala Lumpur (a modern commercial center founded by tin miners in 1857) and Malacca (one of the oldest trading ports in southeast Asia). In both cities, I found plenty to see and lots to do.

Walking around Kuala Lumpur, I saw many mosques, as well as Buddhist temples, Hindu mandirs, Taoist shrines, a few churches and shopping malls with Christmas trees. I talked with people about their religion, their feelings about other people's religions, and their views on the world's current political climate.

Malaysia is one of the calmest, most peaceful and unprejudiced countries I've visited in a while. So, what's the big deal? Everyone seemed to get along quite well as far as I could tell. If Malaysians can get along with each other, why can't we? Mt. Kinabalu More. again

• Whatever happened was good. Whatever is happening is also good. Whatever will happen, that also will be good.
• What did you lose that you are crying for? What did you bring which you have lost? What did you create that was destroyed?
• Whatever you have taken is taken only from here. Whatever you have given is given only from here.
• Whatever is yours today will belong to someone else tomorrow. On another day, it will belong to yet another.
• Change is the law of the universe.

As a sailor, I found Malacca's naval history fascinating. Malacca started out as a quiet fishing village inhabited by Malays, but it didn't stay quiet for long. Malacca became an Indian sultanate in the 14th century. Soon after, the great Chinese Admiral Zheng He made it his primary trading port. When Europe recognized Malacca's strategic importance, Portuguese, Dutch, and English troops took turns conquering and then colonizing it. Finally, Malacca returned to being Malaysian again in 1957 when Malaysia declared its independence from Britain. The end result: This little town is full of history, color, and people from all over the world.

My only complaint about Malaysia is its internet censorship. Many websites that I consider benign or normal are blocked. Naturally, these web blockages can be circumvented by using a VPN account. Still, it's an indication that Malaysia, like several other countries, is drifting towards the right in our current political environment.

With only one week, I was limited to seeing peninsular Malaysia. The other half of Malaysia lies on the north side of Borneo, several hundred kilometers to the east across the South China Sea. Hopefully, that'll be another adventure, perhaps in February.

• Western Malaysia, with Kuala Lumpur, heavy industry and maritime shipping
• Eastern Malaysia, with rainforests, orangutans and crocodiles

So why is Malaysia one country, divided in two? In the 19th century, Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei were British colonies. After WW2, Britain sought to unify these territories ... who then declared their independence in 1957. Later, Brunei withdrew from the Malaysian Federation to protect its oil interests. Singapore was expelled for not favoring Malays over Chinese. What're left are two contrasting halves of Malaysia. It's an odd arrangement, but it seems to work.

Although 30% of Sabah has been taken over by palm oil plantations, the rest is rainforests and mountains. This is the Borneo that I came here to see, with its steaming jungles, exotic plants and animals, and its history of head-hunters.

This is a naturalist's paradise, full of species not found elsewhere. Tourists come here to enjoy comfortable safari lodges by the river, with dawn cruises to spot birds, jungle treks to learn about the plants, sunset cruises to see the monkeys and crocodiles, and night walks to find owls and sleeping songbirds. I recommend the Borneo Natural Sukau Bilit Resort, where I fell asleep at night listening to frogs, birds and monkeys.

• Long Tailed Macaque
• Silvery Lutung
• Orangutan
• Proboscis Monkey

The Orangutans (literally "forest people") are the show stealers among Sabah's primates. You can see many young Orangutans at the excellent Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre where orphaned or lost Orangutans are re-introduced to the wild.

Halfway up the mountain is a lodge where you get a hot meal and a few hours of sleep before the pre-dawn ascent to arrive at the peak for sunrise. Mount Kinabalu is one of the world's most dramatic peaks because it has no nearby peaks. The view from the top is spectacular. On a clear morning, you can see the Philippines.

Like Malaysia, Brunei is an Islamic country. But it's especially Islamic. All of the women wear hijabs (head scarves). You're never out of sight of a mosque. Alcohol is not available. Shops and houses are orderly. The streets are clean. Cars drive at the speed limit and allow pedestrians to cross at crosswalks. The buses run on time.

English is widely spoken. Folks are friendly and interested in talking to foreigners. Twice, I was invited to join families for dinner, to meet their sons and daughters, and to learn about their lives and goals. Brunei's youth impressed me as being traditional, practical and motivated. One young woman is studying for her degree in chemical engineering, so that she can get a job with Brunei's oil company, i.e. Shell.

Everyone turned out for the big parade, complete with costumes, music, and speeches. Several thousand participants marched past the viewing stands, under the benevolent eye of their ruler, His Majesty Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah Mu'izzaddin Waddaulah ibni Al-Marhum Sultan Haji Omar 'Ali Saifuddien Sa'adul Khairi Waddien. How's that for a name? I wonder what his signature looks like.

Across the river, about 20,000 people live in stilt villages known as Kampung Ayer. These are wooden homes, cantilevered out over the water, connected to each other by rickety boardwalks. Many of these homes lack sewage systems, yet the on-shore parking lots are filled with Toyotas, BMWs and Jaguars. This is how the people of this area have lived for at least two millennia. The Brunei government allows its citizens to live this way if they want to. Still, Kampung Ayer is a startling contrast to the glass and concrete of the city.

Sarawak's capital is Kuching. It's a large town, with a population of about 600,000. By coincidence, kucing is the Malaysian word for "cat". The city planners have milked the homonym for everything it’s worth, branding Sarawak’s capital as the "Cat City" and erecting kitschy cat statues to beautify the urban landscape.

Kuching turns out to be a very livable city. With a couple centuries of being a British colony as well as a Chinese trading port, Kuching has inherited a colorful mix of architecture, foods and people.

Invariably, folks at nearby tables invited me to join their happy family and big meal. I found Malaysians to be consistently friendly and hospitable.

This night is a kind of Valentine's Day, when couples go to the temples to receive blessing for their marriage, and when single folks pray for a spouse. Interestingly, all of this goes on within the context of Malaysia's state religion: Islam.

Last month, while traveling in Sumatra, I found ground transportation to be frustrating. The buses were crowded and unreliable. Many places I wanted to go were inaccessible except by private car or motorcycle.

Thanks to FindACrew.net, I met an Aussie chap who needs help sailing his yacht from Singapore to Darwin, and who plans to stop and visit lots of Indonesia en route. In March, I'll be sailing south through the Java Sea on a retired racing catamaran, designed by Bob Oram. I've been told that this ship can do the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs.

There's a colorful David-and-Goliath legend behind Indonesia's roofs. The story begins with an imminent attack by a king from another island. Rather than pit two armies against each other, the Sumatrans proposed a fight between two bulls. When the time came, the enemy produced an enormous bull with terrifying proportions. The Sumatrans brought forward a half-starved calf, whose horns were tipped with sharp metal spears. Believing the giant bull to be its mother, the calf rushed to suckle and ripped the bull’s belly to shreds. The giant bull was soon dead, and the Sumatrans were the victors. Since that ancient time, curved and pointed roofs symbolize Indonesia's horns of victory.

It's also fun to see what the locals drive. The roads are full of various home-made contraptions with 2, 3 or 4 wheels. Some are powered by gasoline. Some are pulled by animals. Many are self-propelled.

Naturally, I had to take a picture of this VW Thing. The owner was very proud of it, and enjoyed filling it with children.

I stayed a few days at Lake Maninjau. This is a collapsed volcanic crater, 17km long, 8km wide, and 400 meters deep. The lake makes for excellent swimming because it's deep, clean and geothermally heated. With an elevation 460 meters above sea level, it's a cool contrast to the steaming seaside of Padang.

My students, ages 14-18, were well-trained in reading and writing in English. But, as is typical in schools throughout Asia, their teacher used a didactic system in which he did all the talking, while the students took notes and spoke only when called upon. As a result of this teaching method, the students hadn't learned to speak in English. Their teacher asked me to help.

The secret to teaching conversational skills is to change the classroom from teacher-centered to student-centered. The teacher's job is to guide the students to talk about themselves, and to ask each other questions. The less the teacher talks the better. My students were very shy for the first hour, but eventually started talking. By the second day, they wouldn't stop talking. Their teacher was delighted and said he'd learned a good lesson.

There was a gentle path along the Harau River. But crossing the river was another story. I tiptoed carefully across the wooden bridge shown above. A minute later, a teenager drove her motorbike full-throttle right across it!

With the help of a guide, I found a Rafflesia arnoldii, the world's largest flower. It grows up to 1 meter in diameter. It blooms for one week, every year or two. Don't expect to find a Rafflesia at your local nursery, and don't give one for Valentine's Day. It's a parasitic plant. It has no stems or leaves. It draws nutrients from rotting vegetation and from insects trapped in its oozing center. It smells like rotting flesh. It's Indonesia's national flower.

Flying from Indonesia to Mongolia was easy. On arrival in Ulaan Baatar (Mongolia's capital), I visited guest houses and hostels to ask what sorts of tours were available. At Khongor Guest House and Tours, I found exactly what I was looking for: A 14-day expedition to the Gobi Desert and the mountains of central Mongolia, where the addition of one more passenger (me) would incur an incremental cost. I also found five wonderful traveling companions who appreciate adventure and good humor.

Take note fellow travelers: If you travel alone, and if your calendar is flexible, you can often find last-minute bargains and opportunities.

This expedition wasn't a luxury cruise, nor was it roughing it. It was somewhere in between.

We traveled in a Russian-built UAZ, an 8-passenger, 4-wheel drive van which combines simplicity, durability, high road clearance, and a spacious interior. The UAZ is the ideal vehicle for the Mongolia steppe, although it's not known for its styling or comfort. Most UAZes are painted dull grey, brown or olive green, and have hard bench seats.

• The "Land of the Eternal Blue Sky" because it has over 250 sunny days every year.
• The world's largest empire in the 13th century.
• The world's lowest population density at 2 people/km².
• About one third desert.
• 30% of the population is nomadic.

Sun Mi, Ori, me, Rashmi, Mr.T, Jeevan
Erka (our driver), Hong

We enjoyed hot showers every 2 or 3 days, and even a couple of soothing soaks in steaming, sulfurous water at a natural hot spring.

We didn't have to cook. We took our lunches at rustic family-run village diners. In the evenings, Mr.T (our guide) served us authentic Mongolian suppers using local ingredients − such as a freshly-slaughtered sheep.

There are 2-10 gers in a typical camp, with each ger having 2-6 bunks.

The only other structures are a cook house and an outhouse.

Because of the rough terrain, our journey was like riding a roller-coaster. In two weeks, we covered about 2500 km, 90% of which was off-road driving.

Happily, we had an experienced driver who knew the best shortcuts through the mountains (see photo to the left), how to avoid getting stuck in the mud (which was like quicksand), and how to change a tire (yes, we had one).

Of special interest were the sand dunes, some as high as 300 meters.

Riding horses and camels was even more fun, and used different muscles. The Bactrian camel, native to central Asia, is easier to ride than its 1-humped cousin in Africa and the Middle East. There's a hump in front to hold onto, and a hump in back to rest against. Their big soft feet are perfect for the soft sand. No wonder they're called the "ships of the desert."

As for the Mongolian ponies, they're a hardy breed. They can keep up a steady trot up and down rocky hills all day long, i.e. for longer than I can sit in a saddle.

The most remarkable of Andrews' discoveries was dinosaur eggs which proved dinosaurs' kinship to modern reptiles and birds.

Andrews and his teams camped here for more than two years and named the nearby mesa "Flaming Cliffs".

No one is allowed to prospect for dino bones today, but it's a magnificent place to watch a sunset.

The waterfall on the left is a scenic swimming hole. The sparkling blue lake to the right is part of an ancient rift valley, similar to Lake Baikal in Siberia, 400 km northeast of here.

Marco Polo learned to speak fluent Mongol. He was introduced into the court of Kublai Khan, headquartered in Beijing. Thanks to his association with the Great Khan, Marco Polo was granted a "golden passport", the bearer of which is entitled to safe passage, food and lodging. This passport − together with his language skills − enabled Polo to travel freely throughout the Mongol Empire, i.e. most of Asia and parts of eastern Europe. Today, this "golden passport" is featured on Mongolian currency.

I don't have a "golden passport" and the world is more fragmented than it was in 1280. So, I'll have to make do with an ATM card, email and internet where I can find it, language skills (which will always be important!), US dollars and an American passport, which are still warmly accepted in most countries.

If you'd like to see Mongolia, be sure to visit during the Naadam Festival, held on July 11-12. It's Mongolia's Labor Day, 4th of July and Superbowl rolled into one.

Naadam starts off with an Opening Ceremony which is one of the world's must-see cultural spectacles, in which the grand history of Mongolia is acted out in full regalia. This show gave me goosebumps!

The focus of Naadam are Mongolia's three national sports:

• Archery tests wisdom.
• Wrestling tests strength.
• Horse racing tests courage.

The wrestling champion looked like the Incredible Hulk and would probably do well in Japanese sumo.

The horse racing jockeys were brave boys between the ages of 9 and 12. The winning horses tend to be half-Arabian and half-Mongolian.

In the middle of Lhasa, on top of a steep outcrop of chert, sits the iconic Potala Palace, with more than 1000 rooms. Ten Dalai Lamas lived here for more than 300 years, overseeing the spiritual and secular lives of the Tibetan people. In 1959, Mao's army forced the current Dalai Lama into exile. Today, the Potala Palace is like the Taj Mahal. It's a famous monument to someone who's not there anymore. Tickets are booked on-line. At your appointed visit time, you queue up at metal detectors. From there, you're ushered through a prescribed visit route, with a fixed time for your departure from the site.

The other major attraction in Lhasa is the Jokhang Temple. Built between 639 and 647 AD, it's Tibet's most revered building. Today, it houses copies of the Buddhist statues that were put here 13 centuries ago. Pilgrims come to the Jokhang to walk around the temple three times, always clockwise as Buddhists do. It's a colorful and busy site, with burning incense, prostrating Tibetans, and busloads of Chinese tourists. Note that most of Tibet's temples and monasteries were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution (1966-76). Since then many have been restored and serve as tourist attractions.

The people of Tibet maintain their simple way of life, and observe the rituals of their Buddhism. They wear authentic traditional clothing, spin their prayer wheels, walk the routes around the monuments, recite their prayers, prostrate themselves in front of statues and holy sites, and greet you with a smile when they're done.

At the start and end of my visit to Tibet, I stayed at the Tibetan-run Kyichu Hotel. It's an easy walk from the Potala Palace and the Johkhang.

In spite of our language barrier, I met and talked with a lot of Tibetans ... and I liked them all. Tibetans are very welcoming. Their typical greeting − which was usually conveyed with hand gestures − consisted of ...

• Please sit down with us.
• Have a drink. You like it?
• Where are you from?
• Let's take pictures.

I witnessed genuine religious observance, with a devotion and faith that belongs to an earlier age. Monks seemed happy while they debated religious philosophies. Pilgrims spun their prayer wheels with a friendly casualness and sociability.

Traveling overland gave me a good sense of how vast Tibet is. Tibet is the same area as New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming and Montana combined. We were about to embark on a road trip equivalent to driving from Albuquerque, NM to Jackson, WY and back − the big difference being that the Himalayas are twice as high as the Rockies. Our main route followed part of an east-west highway known as the Friendship Highway, because of its link to Nepal.

Spectacular, scenic and stunning are hardly enough to describe Tibet's glittering turquoise lakes, wide plains dotted with yaks and nomad tents, snowy passes draped with colorful prayer flags, and breathtaking views of the Himalayas, especially the north face of Mount Everest.

Yaks were the most common animal we saw. It was fun to see big horn sheep scamper across sacred precipices.

Bhutan, Nepal and/or India are on the other side of these mountains.

To see Everest from Nepal requires a trek of several days. In Tibet, the Chinese built a highway − with 97 switchbacks! − all the way up to 5200 meters (17,160 feet) to the base camp.

When we first arrived, the mountain was shrouded in clouds. We spent the night at a guesthouse and had great views of the mountain the next morning. Wow!

• With four triangular sides, it looks like a giant pyramid.
• It's the source of four of Asia's biggest rivers: Indus (Pakistan), Sutlej (India/Pakistan), Brahmaputra (Bangladesh), and Karnali-Ganges (India).
• It's worshipped by more than a billion Buddhists and Hindus.
• Walking the 52km pilgrim path (kora) around the mountain erases the sins of a lifetime. Cool!

Our goal was to walk around Mount Kailash once, and to do it in three days. We had the added luxuries of driving to the trailhead, having porters to carry our gear, eating hot meals, sleeping in guest houses, and soaking in hot springs at the end of our trek.

This turned out to be one of the most satisfying treks I've ever taken.

Children and grandmothers zipped past me when I stopped to catch my breath in the thin mountain air.

Gauri Kund (5608m), the "Lake of Compassion"

The scenery was, of course, incredible. I was surrounded by gigantic spires of granite, laced with sparkling glaciers. Red, yellow, white, blue and green prayer flags decorated the trail. Turquoise lakes filled pockets on the sides of cliffs. The thunder of occasional rock falls echoed between massive peaks.

I was glad that I'd spent the previous 12 days at 4000+ meters to acclimate. I was thankful that Allison, one of my fellow travelers, had given me some cocoa leaves to chew on for my ascent. We were also very lucky with the weather. The previous day, the pass was snowed shut with a blizzard. Yet, when we crossed over the pass, we walked through fresh snow in the sunshine, with a soft, warm breeze at our backs.

The descent from Drölma-la Pass

I set my eyes on the tents and tea shops waiting for tired pilgrims. There, at the bottom of the pass, it's a party atmosphere, with everyone sharing their tea, snacks and stories.

The Kailash kora was my favorite experience in Tibet. Walking a kora is the ultimate fusion of mind and body. It's a great way to see the breathtaking landscapes and sites of Tibet. And it's the easiest way to meet Tibetans on their own terms.

We picked up two other travelers along the way (Femka and Sharon) and celebrated at our guest house after our success.

As in the past seven years of travel, 2016 was another "Trip of a Lifetime". How many lifetimes can a person have in one life? We measure time with our memories of momentous events. We remember weddings, earthquakes, vacations to someplace special, etc. These memorable events are the landmarks of our lives, against which we measure time.

What happens when you have dozens of unforgettable experiences in a year? The year seems longer. Life seems fuller. Time seems to have slowed. No one completely understands what time is, but I think I've found a way to get more of it. The secret is to have unforgettable experiences. The travel that I've undertaken is stretching the fabric of time.

I'm now back in the US now to replenish the bank account, to catch up with friends and family, and to plan my next trip to someplace that I've never been before. I'm getting the hang of traveling now. Being a nomad is a simple life. But I can't imagine a richer life.