Monday, July 6, 2009
Friday, May 23, 2008
It's Time For A Change...
I'm moving to tumblr. It's easier. Cooler. Prettier. And I can actually link to things in such a way that you'll click on the link and just be there. Something that would come in really handy right now since I'm about to have to write out a link for you to cut and paste. Sorry. This will never happen again.
http://inmyopinion.tumblr.com
Check it out. If for no other reason than to see plenty of pics of the world's best looking dachshund.
http://inmyopinion.tumblr.com
Check it out. If for no other reason than to see plenty of pics of the world's best looking dachshund.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Breakfast With My Brother
Everett: I saw some thing on the news this morning about a Smiley Face Killer. They sign a smiley face in spray paint where ever they leave the bodies.
Me: I bet that really freaked you out.
Everett: Oh yeah.
Me: I know how afraid you are of creepy killers.
Everett: Yeah, and get this. The Smiley Face killer targets young, attractive, popular, smart men. I'm surprised I'm not dead already.
Me: I bet that really freaked you out.
Everett: Oh yeah.
Me: I know how afraid you are of creepy killers.
Everett: Yeah, and get this. The Smiley Face killer targets young, attractive, popular, smart men. I'm surprised I'm not dead already.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
List Maker/ Chef
There is an art to being unemployed. It would be very simple to spend entire days in pajamas covered in images of barking dogs. It would also be easy to slip into a bathing suit, grab one of those novels that has been sitting unread on my shelf since I entered the working world two years ago and spend an afternoon by the pool. Other temptations include, but are not limited to, spending hours in Chic Fil A hanging out with old friends over chicken biscuits, watching all of my pirated Desperate Housewives DVDs and just rolling around on the floor with Rosie for hours on end.
All of these temptations have been considered. Some have been attempted. A few (ok, a lot) have actually been completely fulfilled. But, the thing is, at the end of the day, being unemployed, even when you're living in a rent free house where they'll occasionally feed you, is still kind of hard. Mostly because eventually you start to feel kind of worthless.
So, I have begun making lists. Like, kind of insane lists. They include absolutely everything I have to do. This way when I "let Rosie outside" I can mark it off the list and feel that nice sensation of accomplishment one doesn't get very often in the world of being unemployed. In fact, the lists are multi functional. They can also be used for the purpose of creating tasks to put on them. For example, this week, at the top of my list was "Learn how to make Pad Thai."
I'd put that on the list last Friday and had been considering it for a few days so when my mom asked me to make dinner last night, I agreed, under the condition I could make pad thai. Despite her distaste for most Asian food she went along. I think she probably understands the list system.
As it turns out, my pad thai making goal was going a little beyond my usual culinary prowess. (That prowess that includes having several take out restaurants on speed dial and a lifetime supply of Lean Cuisines in my refrigerator) However, I can read a recipe and generally I can make a decent dish when I set my mind to it so I didn't see any reason pad thai would be any different. I had no idea.
The first problem I faced in my quest was the issue of grocery shopping in Shelby, NC. This is a town that only learned what hummus was about 6 months ago, totally foreign food that it is. Sushi sounds like some kind of crazy raw fish trend imposed on us by "those yankees up north." So, with all of this knowledge, I'm not sure why I was remotely surprised to find that the local Ingles didn't offer thai rice noodles or tamarind. (It's also worth noting that I had to call home from Ingles to have my mom google tamarind to determine if I should be looking in the spice or produce section so I can't be too disappointed in Shelby for that one.)
After purchasing my fish sauce, Japanese rice noodles (I figured they were at least in the same region) and some chopsticks—I thought we should be as authentic as possible— I headed home to begin my creation.
I had found the recipe online so I set my computer up in the kitchen and went to work. Early on I could tell there might be some timing problems. I think reading the words "make sure the pot is on high and continually stir" as you're supposed to be throwing other stuff in made me understand that I was going to be facing fairly inevitable disaster. But I had no idea how bad.
My mom was upstairs. Rosie was at my feet. And I started to systematically destroy the kitchen and create the strangest pad thai ever made. First, it turns out that "shallots" have the same affects on my eyes as "onions" so there was a great deal of crying at the start of the project. The next problem came in that I was supposed to fry some peanuts in the hot vegetable oil and then take out the peanuts while leaving the oil on high heat before adding in the next ingredients. I'm deathly afraid of hot oil so I chickened out on taking the peanuts out and just tossed everything in on top of them, thinking that couldn't be that big of a deal. Apparently it is. Apparently it leads to a lot of black, burned peanuts in your pad thai, which are just as tasty as you might imagine.
Another large problem came in the form of the Japanese Rice Noodles. They didn't work. They were hard and stringy so I tossed them in the sink and threw in some good, old-fashioned angel hair pasta. The thing was, by this point, things had gotten pretty frantic. I was just dumping things in because the recipe insisted that I keep the heat on high and oil was flying everywhere, Rosie was barking and my mom kept yelling down stairs to see why I was screaming. Halfway through I realized I'd forgotten to add eggs. I cracked them on the hot pan, almost burned my hand off, stepped on Rosie and then threw in some bean sprouts. I was supposed to "sprinkle" in chili powder, but by that point in the process things were completely out of control. I dumped all the chili powder on one piece of chicken. A piece of chicken that later, as I was eating the pad thai and trying to avoid burnt peanuts, nearly killed me.
I finally finished. Breathless and exhausted, I called for my mom to come and enjoy our Thai/Italian meal. Her face, upon walking into the kitchen, was the first time I really realized how out of control things had gotten. There were noodles strewn across the sink, egg all over the counter, open containers everywhere and her wok pot may never be the same again. Interestingly enough though, the pad thai didn't taste half bad. I'm now determined to get it right—and maybe do it with a little less insanity.
I think I'll put that on the list for next week.
All of these temptations have been considered. Some have been attempted. A few (ok, a lot) have actually been completely fulfilled. But, the thing is, at the end of the day, being unemployed, even when you're living in a rent free house where they'll occasionally feed you, is still kind of hard. Mostly because eventually you start to feel kind of worthless.
So, I have begun making lists. Like, kind of insane lists. They include absolutely everything I have to do. This way when I "let Rosie outside" I can mark it off the list and feel that nice sensation of accomplishment one doesn't get very often in the world of being unemployed. In fact, the lists are multi functional. They can also be used for the purpose of creating tasks to put on them. For example, this week, at the top of my list was "Learn how to make Pad Thai."
I'd put that on the list last Friday and had been considering it for a few days so when my mom asked me to make dinner last night, I agreed, under the condition I could make pad thai. Despite her distaste for most Asian food she went along. I think she probably understands the list system.
As it turns out, my pad thai making goal was going a little beyond my usual culinary prowess. (That prowess that includes having several take out restaurants on speed dial and a lifetime supply of Lean Cuisines in my refrigerator) However, I can read a recipe and generally I can make a decent dish when I set my mind to it so I didn't see any reason pad thai would be any different. I had no idea.
The first problem I faced in my quest was the issue of grocery shopping in Shelby, NC. This is a town that only learned what hummus was about 6 months ago, totally foreign food that it is. Sushi sounds like some kind of crazy raw fish trend imposed on us by "those yankees up north." So, with all of this knowledge, I'm not sure why I was remotely surprised to find that the local Ingles didn't offer thai rice noodles or tamarind. (It's also worth noting that I had to call home from Ingles to have my mom google tamarind to determine if I should be looking in the spice or produce section so I can't be too disappointed in Shelby for that one.)
After purchasing my fish sauce, Japanese rice noodles (I figured they were at least in the same region) and some chopsticks—I thought we should be as authentic as possible— I headed home to begin my creation.
I had found the recipe online so I set my computer up in the kitchen and went to work. Early on I could tell there might be some timing problems. I think reading the words "make sure the pot is on high and continually stir" as you're supposed to be throwing other stuff in made me understand that I was going to be facing fairly inevitable disaster. But I had no idea how bad.
My mom was upstairs. Rosie was at my feet. And I started to systematically destroy the kitchen and create the strangest pad thai ever made. First, it turns out that "shallots" have the same affects on my eyes as "onions" so there was a great deal of crying at the start of the project. The next problem came in that I was supposed to fry some peanuts in the hot vegetable oil and then take out the peanuts while leaving the oil on high heat before adding in the next ingredients. I'm deathly afraid of hot oil so I chickened out on taking the peanuts out and just tossed everything in on top of them, thinking that couldn't be that big of a deal. Apparently it is. Apparently it leads to a lot of black, burned peanuts in your pad thai, which are just as tasty as you might imagine.
Another large problem came in the form of the Japanese Rice Noodles. They didn't work. They were hard and stringy so I tossed them in the sink and threw in some good, old-fashioned angel hair pasta. The thing was, by this point, things had gotten pretty frantic. I was just dumping things in because the recipe insisted that I keep the heat on high and oil was flying everywhere, Rosie was barking and my mom kept yelling down stairs to see why I was screaming. Halfway through I realized I'd forgotten to add eggs. I cracked them on the hot pan, almost burned my hand off, stepped on Rosie and then threw in some bean sprouts. I was supposed to "sprinkle" in chili powder, but by that point in the process things were completely out of control. I dumped all the chili powder on one piece of chicken. A piece of chicken that later, as I was eating the pad thai and trying to avoid burnt peanuts, nearly killed me.
I finally finished. Breathless and exhausted, I called for my mom to come and enjoy our Thai/Italian meal. Her face, upon walking into the kitchen, was the first time I really realized how out of control things had gotten. There were noodles strewn across the sink, egg all over the counter, open containers everywhere and her wok pot may never be the same again. Interestingly enough though, the pad thai didn't taste half bad. I'm now determined to get it right—and maybe do it with a little less insanity.
I think I'll put that on the list for next week.
Friday, May 9, 2008
A Story
Our second afternoon in New Zealand was one of those crisp and sunny early fall days that you can expect in the southern United States right around Labor Day. Of course, it was the day before Easter, but in the Southern Hemisphere that means autumn is just around the corner.
It could have reminded me of Labor Day weekend because Laura and I spent that afternoon next to the beach on an island called Waiheke and most Labor Day weekends I manage to make my way to a beach for one last stinging sunburn before my winter white skin sets in. Anyway, after a very large lunch on a very large porch (something also reminiscent of my beach time), we meandered through the streets on the small island, popping in and out of art galleries and quaint boutiques.
Eventually we made our way into a small children's bookstore where the petite owner was dressed like a fairy complete with sparkles on her face, a tiny upturned nose and long tendrils in her hair. The shop was filled with old and new children's books and miniature chairs meant for very small bodies. Across the wall in the store had been painted the following passage in whimsical letters. I love it.
Once upon a time long, long ago before time was caught and put in clocks in a time when magic was easier to find...there was a story.
Do you mean like a book?
No, I mean like a story.
A book story.
No, a story-story like the first stories. One that falls in through your eye when you are out staring up at the stars one night, or perhaps you swallowed it...or maybe it seeped in through your skin like air or water or the thick warm scent of summer, or maybe you caught it like a cold from your great, great, great grandmother, or like a fish on a long line of truth... Do you remember someone telling you a story?
It could have reminded me of Labor Day weekend because Laura and I spent that afternoon next to the beach on an island called Waiheke and most Labor Day weekends I manage to make my way to a beach for one last stinging sunburn before my winter white skin sets in. Anyway, after a very large lunch on a very large porch (something also reminiscent of my beach time), we meandered through the streets on the small island, popping in and out of art galleries and quaint boutiques.
Eventually we made our way into a small children's bookstore where the petite owner was dressed like a fairy complete with sparkles on her face, a tiny upturned nose and long tendrils in her hair. The shop was filled with old and new children's books and miniature chairs meant for very small bodies. Across the wall in the store had been painted the following passage in whimsical letters. I love it.
Once upon a time long, long ago before time was caught and put in clocks in a time when magic was easier to find...there was a story.
Do you mean like a book?
No, I mean like a story.
A book story.
No, a story-story like the first stories. One that falls in through your eye when you are out staring up at the stars one night, or perhaps you swallowed it...or maybe it seeped in through your skin like air or water or the thick warm scent of summer, or maybe you caught it like a cold from your great, great, great grandmother, or like a fish on a long line of truth... Do you remember someone telling you a story?
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Buyer's Remorse
"In her 2007 book, Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster, journalist Dana Thomas quotes an investigator who raided an assembly plant in Thailand and found children younger than ten on the floor stitching counterfeit bags. 'The owners had broken the children's legs and tied the lower leg to the thigh so the bones wouldn't mend,' the investigator said. 'He did it because the children said they wanted to go outside and play.'" - Atlanta Magazine, May 2008.
This is the kind of article I wish I had read before I became a fake handbag fanatic in south Thailand.
This is the kind of article I wish I had read before I became a fake handbag fanatic in south Thailand.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Life. Currently.
Ah, unemployment.
It has some downfalls. Like, even cheeseburgers seem a little overpriced these days. Putting $20 worth of gas in my car this morning was like I was making a major life investment. Considering I pretty much spent my life savings on fake handbags and scarves in Thailand, I really have no one to blame for this but myself.
Another drawback to unemployment is the fact that my current situation kind of inhibits me from renting my own place. So, I'm living with my parents, which is actually quite nice at times. However, yesterday, when my mom explained to me the "living here means helping out around here" philosophy and that that philosophy also meant "wheelbarrowing sticks from the flower beds to the gully down the field for all of Sunday afternoon," I have to say I started to see some glitches in my "hanging around the rent-free house indefinitely" plan. Those glitches became even more apparent as I had to load Rosie into the wheelbarrow and run through the high grass dragging it in fear that a snake was going to bite me. I'm just not cut out for yard work.
Anyway, so unemployment and living with your parents at 26 isn't perfect. But it's not bad either. My mom cooks my meals. I spend a lot of time outside. And a fair amount in bed. I get to meet friends for lunch. And stay up late watching movies. It's like I'm getting to have a summer vacation and I'm appreciating it more than I ever did when I actually got to have summer vacations. Kids these days just don't know how good they have it.
I hit the peak of the benefits of unemployment today when I took an impromptu (on my part) trip with Jenn to Charleston to help with a few preparations for her upcoming wedding. When you've got no plans, hopping in a car and "helping" with things like cupcake sampling (something I've been waiting for the opportunity to "help" with my entire life) is totally possible.
So, while I may never be able to entirely fill up the tank of my SUV at one time again, I will have had my cupcake sampling experience. And I'm pretty sure that qualifies as priceless.
It has some downfalls. Like, even cheeseburgers seem a little overpriced these days. Putting $20 worth of gas in my car this morning was like I was making a major life investment. Considering I pretty much spent my life savings on fake handbags and scarves in Thailand, I really have no one to blame for this but myself.
Another drawback to unemployment is the fact that my current situation kind of inhibits me from renting my own place. So, I'm living with my parents, which is actually quite nice at times. However, yesterday, when my mom explained to me the "living here means helping out around here" philosophy and that that philosophy also meant "wheelbarrowing sticks from the flower beds to the gully down the field for all of Sunday afternoon," I have to say I started to see some glitches in my "hanging around the rent-free house indefinitely" plan. Those glitches became even more apparent as I had to load Rosie into the wheelbarrow and run through the high grass dragging it in fear that a snake was going to bite me. I'm just not cut out for yard work.
Anyway, so unemployment and living with your parents at 26 isn't perfect. But it's not bad either. My mom cooks my meals. I spend a lot of time outside. And a fair amount in bed. I get to meet friends for lunch. And stay up late watching movies. It's like I'm getting to have a summer vacation and I'm appreciating it more than I ever did when I actually got to have summer vacations. Kids these days just don't know how good they have it.
I hit the peak of the benefits of unemployment today when I took an impromptu (on my part) trip with Jenn to Charleston to help with a few preparations for her upcoming wedding. When you've got no plans, hopping in a car and "helping" with things like cupcake sampling (something I've been waiting for the opportunity to "help" with my entire life) is totally possible.
So, while I may never be able to entirely fill up the tank of my SUV at one time again, I will have had my cupcake sampling experience. And I'm pretty sure that qualifies as priceless.
Friday, May 2, 2008
John Cusack and Jesus
I feel like people who are really into movies started liking John Cusack when he was in Sixteen Candles or maybe Grosse Pointe Blank. And I think people who are cool probably went for him when he was in High Fidelity. Intellectuals probably enjoyed him in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
Personally though, I can't really claim to fall into any of those categories. I fell for him in Serendipity because I'm a sucker for chick flicks and fate, and then Runaway Jury sealed the deal because I can't resist a good John Grisham novel-turned-movie. Don't even get me started on my feelings on Matthew McConaughey post A Time to Kill.
Anyway, for their June issue, Vanity Fair has Cusack on their back page. Each month the magazine's back page features a Proust Questionnaire on a celebrity who they think is doing something pretty cool. I've actually voiced in the past that I'd hate to be on the back page because half the people who show up there are so old that they seem to die shortly after appearing there. (This is a blatant and obvious lie as I would give my right arm to have my name appear anywhere in Vanity Fair.) However, he's obviously not old so chances are, he'll live through this- something I'm pretty pleased about because based on his answers, I'd like to continue to hear what he has to say. My favorite excerpt is below:
VF: Who are your heroes in real life?
Cusack: Let's go with Jesus. Not the gay-hating, war-making political tool of the right, but the outcast, subversive, supreme adept who preferred the freaks and lepers and despised and doomed to the rich and powerful. The man Garry Wills describes "with the future in his eyes...paradoxically calming and provoking," and whom Flannery O'Connor saw as "the ragged figure who moves from tree to tree in the back of [one's] mind."
Personally though, I can't really claim to fall into any of those categories. I fell for him in Serendipity because I'm a sucker for chick flicks and fate, and then Runaway Jury sealed the deal because I can't resist a good John Grisham novel-turned-movie. Don't even get me started on my feelings on Matthew McConaughey post A Time to Kill.
Anyway, for their June issue, Vanity Fair has Cusack on their back page. Each month the magazine's back page features a Proust Questionnaire on a celebrity who they think is doing something pretty cool. I've actually voiced in the past that I'd hate to be on the back page because half the people who show up there are so old that they seem to die shortly after appearing there. (This is a blatant and obvious lie as I would give my right arm to have my name appear anywhere in Vanity Fair.) However, he's obviously not old so chances are, he'll live through this- something I'm pretty pleased about because based on his answers, I'd like to continue to hear what he has to say. My favorite excerpt is below:
VF: Who are your heroes in real life?
Cusack: Let's go with Jesus. Not the gay-hating, war-making political tool of the right, but the outcast, subversive, supreme adept who preferred the freaks and lepers and despised and doomed to the rich and powerful. The man Garry Wills describes "with the future in his eyes...paradoxically calming and provoking," and whom Flannery O'Connor saw as "the ragged figure who moves from tree to tree in the back of [one's] mind."
I'm Back!
Well, the United States is just as glorious as I remembered: Diet Cokes are served with ice, people speak English and Visa really is everywhere you want to be.
Not much has changed as far as I can tell. Rosie has gained about four pounds (something that is pretty significant for a dog who was only 10 pounds when I left) and she has gotten a tan. I didn't even know it was possible for dachshunds to get tan, but Rosie definitely has darker skin that when I left and I can only assume this is from all of her time outside on the farm.
There are some benefits to having left the country for the last two months. I missed the majority of pollen season. I'm not sick of the Britney Spears Piece of Me song yet. I've heard/seen enough ridiculous Obama and Clinton commercials in the last 24 hours to have me covered from the last two months. All of the magazines on a news rack in the airport were totally new to me. I don't think that's ever happened before. So, all in all, I feel good about the time gone.
Ok, so I've posted the pics from Hong Kong and China - the last photos from the trip. I'm a little depressed that it's my last posting. Of course, my depression could be coming from the fact that I had to post them from a coffee shop in Shelby because my parents' internet is so bad that I can't even access my email from their house. Hopefully my days of unemployment and living at home at 26 will not last for forever. I'm a little suspicious my parents have actually sabotaged the internet in an effort to make sure I don't get too comfortable with the free rent, board and pool time they've provided.
Not much has changed as far as I can tell. Rosie has gained about four pounds (something that is pretty significant for a dog who was only 10 pounds when I left) and she has gotten a tan. I didn't even know it was possible for dachshunds to get tan, but Rosie definitely has darker skin that when I left and I can only assume this is from all of her time outside on the farm.
There are some benefits to having left the country for the last two months. I missed the majority of pollen season. I'm not sick of the Britney Spears Piece of Me song yet. I've heard/seen enough ridiculous Obama and Clinton commercials in the last 24 hours to have me covered from the last two months. All of the magazines on a news rack in the airport were totally new to me. I don't think that's ever happened before. So, all in all, I feel good about the time gone.
Ok, so I've posted the pics from Hong Kong and China - the last photos from the trip. I'm a little depressed that it's my last posting. Of course, my depression could be coming from the fact that I had to post them from a coffee shop in Shelby because my parents' internet is so bad that I can't even access my email from their house. Hopefully my days of unemployment and living at home at 26 will not last for forever. I'm a little suspicious my parents have actually sabotaged the internet in an effort to make sure I don't get too comfortable with the free rent, board and pool time they've provided.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
50 Days
That's how long this trip has been. I really can't believe that today we'll all return to the US. Because the last 50 days have been particularly full/totally insane, for my final posting from abroad I wanted to give a little statistical version of what exactly has gone down on this seven week voyage around these awesome parts of the world.
We have visited Los Angeles, Nadi, Yasawa Islands, South Fiji, Auckland, Waiheke, Wellington, Picton, Christchurch, Queenstown, Sydney, Blue Mountains, Manly Beach, Balmoral, Bondi, Melbourne, Kuala Lumpur, Saigon, Danang, Hoi An, Hanoi, Halong Bay, Bangkok, Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, Hong Kong, Kowloon, Beijing and Mongolia.
Number of beds slept in (including overnight train and boat rides): 32
Number of flights (including those home today): 19
Number of ferries and/or boats taken: 21
Number of trains and/or trams taken (not including the train I got off of in Vietnam): 14
Buses taken: 36
Number of cabs taken (including 22 in Beijing alone so far): 56
Number of tuk tuks ridden: 6
Number of bikes ridden: 3
Number of times laundry has been done: 4
Number of meals together: Approximately 150
Number of photos taken: Approximately 4,000
Steps walked: I think over a billion probably.
French fries eaten: Countless
Times I've pulled Rosie's photo out of my wallet to show to total strangers: Remarkably enough, less than 10.
Beds Laura and I have shared: 6
Number of those that weren't quite doubles and were just box springs: 2
Number of those that had no air conditioning in the room: 1
(However, I cannot complain as two nights ago Everett and Laura were forced to share a twin bed with Everett in his sleeping bag after his cot collapsed)
Water bottles consumed: I actually think 700 is not an unreasonable estimate.
Number of public toilets used: More than I've used in the rest of my life combined.
Amount of times Everett has threatened to slap Laura or me in the face: At least 27.
Amount of times Everett has been slapped in the face: 1
Number of Asians Laura has made angry: What is the population of Vietnam?
Number of people who have actually finished reading this ridiculous entry: Probably just Everett and Laura. Actually, probably just Laura as Everett tells me on a daily basis that he doesn't read my blog. So, if you have read this and/or any of my other random ramblings over the last several weeks, thanks for reading- I really appreciate it. This blog is about to return to fairly dull postings about my dachshund, but I hope you've enjoyed this documentation of what has truly been, as they say, the trip of a lifetime.
We have visited Los Angeles, Nadi, Yasawa Islands, South Fiji, Auckland, Waiheke, Wellington, Picton, Christchurch, Queenstown, Sydney, Blue Mountains, Manly Beach, Balmoral, Bondi, Melbourne, Kuala Lumpur, Saigon, Danang, Hoi An, Hanoi, Halong Bay, Bangkok, Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, Hong Kong, Kowloon, Beijing and Mongolia.
Number of beds slept in (including overnight train and boat rides): 32
Number of flights (including those home today): 19
Number of ferries and/or boats taken: 21
Number of trains and/or trams taken (not including the train I got off of in Vietnam): 14
Buses taken: 36
Number of cabs taken (including 22 in Beijing alone so far): 56
Number of tuk tuks ridden: 6
Number of bikes ridden: 3
Number of times laundry has been done: 4
Number of meals together: Approximately 150
Number of photos taken: Approximately 4,000
Steps walked: I think over a billion probably.
French fries eaten: Countless
Times I've pulled Rosie's photo out of my wallet to show to total strangers: Remarkably enough, less than 10.
Beds Laura and I have shared: 6
Number of those that weren't quite doubles and were just box springs: 2
Number of those that had no air conditioning in the room: 1
(However, I cannot complain as two nights ago Everett and Laura were forced to share a twin bed with Everett in his sleeping bag after his cot collapsed)
Water bottles consumed: I actually think 700 is not an unreasonable estimate.
Number of public toilets used: More than I've used in the rest of my life combined.
Amount of times Everett has threatened to slap Laura or me in the face: At least 27.
Amount of times Everett has been slapped in the face: 1
Number of Asians Laura has made angry: What is the population of Vietnam?
Number of people who have actually finished reading this ridiculous entry: Probably just Everett and Laura. Actually, probably just Laura as Everett tells me on a daily basis that he doesn't read my blog. So, if you have read this and/or any of my other random ramblings over the last several weeks, thanks for reading- I really appreciate it. This blog is about to return to fairly dull postings about my dachshund, but I hope you've enjoyed this documentation of what has truly been, as they say, the trip of a lifetime.
Laffy Taffy
After I returned to our room last night after completing the last blog entry Everett and Laura reminded me of an incident that occured yesterday that I'd completely forgotten to write about. They insisted that it needed to be documented and I think they're right.
So, for the trip that we took to the Great Wall you're hiking for four hours in the middle of the day. This means that not only is it a good idea to bring ALOT of water along, but you should also pack a lunch. Not ones to miss meals, we planned far in advance for this lunch. We actually had Everett's friend Grace take us to the most Americanized grocery store I've seen in Asia where we went crazy as if we hadn't seen things like peanut butter and Nacho Cheese doritoes in years. We purchased plenty of water, a few small snacks and the makings for peanut butter and jelly tortillas for the trip.
When we got back to our room very late in the evening/early in the morning the night before the hike, Laura insisted that we needed to pack our food bag. And then she went crazy. I was already in bed. Everett was in the bathroom. And Laura was grabbing everything she could find in the room to put in the bag. At one point she started rummaging through some snacks I'd purchased a few days before, tossing them in as well.
Somewhere in the midst of this packing frenzy, she decided to "sprinkle in" (her words) about 65 small candy cubes that look like Starbursts, but taste like laffy taffy. She had purchased them a few days before and hadn't even liked them when she bought them. But for some reason she thought they'd be perfect for our trip to the Great Wall. Actually, not just perfect, she apparently thought we'd be eating them for the entire trip, from the time we woke up in the morning until we climbed in bed at night because there was no other way you could ever eat all of that laffy taffy.
The best part of this though was that Everett and I had no idea about the laffy taffy until it was time to break for lunch. At this point Everett had been carrying the pack the entire time and at one point his water bottle had begun to leak inside. The leak plus the laffy taffy was a disaster. When we pulled out lunch there was a thin film of laffy taffy on EVERYTHING - including Everett's bag. Exasperated, Everett dumped his entire bag right in the middle of the Great Wall of China. This prompted an old lady with a broom to come up and offer to sweep it up. All in all, it was a disaster. However, the debris was eventually cleaned up, lunch was eaten, and Laura was disappointed in her apparent goal to make the "Great Wall trip" the "Let's eat laffy taffy all day trip."
So, for the trip that we took to the Great Wall you're hiking for four hours in the middle of the day. This means that not only is it a good idea to bring ALOT of water along, but you should also pack a lunch. Not ones to miss meals, we planned far in advance for this lunch. We actually had Everett's friend Grace take us to the most Americanized grocery store I've seen in Asia where we went crazy as if we hadn't seen things like peanut butter and Nacho Cheese doritoes in years. We purchased plenty of water, a few small snacks and the makings for peanut butter and jelly tortillas for the trip.
When we got back to our room very late in the evening/early in the morning the night before the hike, Laura insisted that we needed to pack our food bag. And then she went crazy. I was already in bed. Everett was in the bathroom. And Laura was grabbing everything she could find in the room to put in the bag. At one point she started rummaging through some snacks I'd purchased a few days before, tossing them in as well.
Somewhere in the midst of this packing frenzy, she decided to "sprinkle in" (her words) about 65 small candy cubes that look like Starbursts, but taste like laffy taffy. She had purchased them a few days before and hadn't even liked them when she bought them. But for some reason she thought they'd be perfect for our trip to the Great Wall. Actually, not just perfect, she apparently thought we'd be eating them for the entire trip, from the time we woke up in the morning until we climbed in bed at night because there was no other way you could ever eat all of that laffy taffy.
The best part of this though was that Everett and I had no idea about the laffy taffy until it was time to break for lunch. At this point Everett had been carrying the pack the entire time and at one point his water bottle had begun to leak inside. The leak plus the laffy taffy was a disaster. When we pulled out lunch there was a thin film of laffy taffy on EVERYTHING - including Everett's bag. Exasperated, Everett dumped his entire bag right in the middle of the Great Wall of China. This prompted an old lady with a broom to come up and offer to sweep it up. All in all, it was a disaster. However, the debris was eventually cleaned up, lunch was eaten, and Laura was disappointed in her apparent goal to make the "Great Wall trip" the "Let's eat laffy taffy all day trip."
撒阿鹅叫快
(That doesn't mean anything. I just wanted a title in Chinese characters.)
China has been intense.
Several things have made it this way. First and foremost, there is a major language barrier here. For the first time in my life I can appreciate what it feels like not to speak the language everyone else around me does. Also, I have a newfound appreciation for Chinese people who learn to speak English because I'm pretty sure if I worked at it the rest of my life I couldn't speak Chinese. I keep trying to say "thank you" and it comes out sounding like a sneeze. However, we have been very lucky here in China to have Grace, my brother's college friend and possibly the world's best hostess/tour guide, to show us around and be our full time translator. (Last night, Grace left us on our own for the first time since the tragic train station arrival day. She told the taxi driver exactly where to go and sent us home. Within five minutes we were lost and certain we'd be sleeping on the streets of Beijing. So how do three clueless Americans find their way home with no Chinese? Laura recognized a KFC and of course we knew our way home from there. I think this pretty much makes us the ultimate Americans. We might as well have asked him to pull over and let us get some fried chicken.)
However, while Grace has seriously been, well, extremely gracious, she is also probably the most hard core tour guide I've ever met. I don't think there's anything left in the city or surrounding area of Beijing that I have not seen and/or learned about in the last few days. We have had early morning tours of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, late afternoon pedal boat rides around the summer palace, a quick stop by the new Olympic Stadium, nights out at popular expat bars, and more food than even I could manage to eat. It's been amazing. It's also worth noting that all of Grace's friends here are graduates of schools like Harvard or Princeton, they're all working on some version of a PhD or MBA and they all speak fluent Chinese. So I feel like a complete idiot pretty much all the time.
Today was an especially intense day. After getting back from random Beijing bars in the wee hours of the morning (including one that we accessed by crawling over a fence into a closed, dark park- something I never anticipated doing in a communist country) we had to be up at 5:15 a.m. to head to the Great Wall for a four hour hike. I almost died on that hike. I blame this partially on the pollution here in China. It's out of control. My eyes have been bloodshot, my lungs have been congested and my throat has hurt since we crossed the border. Beijing is so hazy it's hard to see more than a few buildings away at times. I will be very interested come August to see how Olympic athletes handle it. (Do you like how I just compared myself to an Olympic athlete? I mean, if you'd seen me on this hike today, I think you'd understand.) Anyway, it was a hard hike. 11 kilometers felt like about 111111 miles as it involved some serious stair climbing. But it was cool. And at the end we got to go on a zip line across a river so I liked that part.
Tonight is our final night of the trip. As a treat after our hike, Grace took us to a massage place where we got Chinese massages. Grace warned us before we went that occasionally traditional Chinese massages can be a little painful as they are all about pressure points. I said I could handle it. Grace, Laura and I were in the same room and somehow, of all of the masseuses in all of China, I got one who looked like she was a linebacker. Seriously, I don't know how it happened. My entire time in Asia I've felt freakishly large until this woman walked in tonight. I'm pretty sure she thought the point of the massage was to actually massage my internal organs through my back. At one point I thought I felt her rip my kidney out, but it was hard to tell. Anyway, hopefully it will keep me from being sore tomorrow.
Ah, tomorrow. The final day. Everett is flying out in the late afternoon and Laura and I leave in the evening. Laura is in a state of depression and while I'm sad that this trip is ending, the thought of squeezing Rosie in 48 hours makes me want to cry with joy. Ok, I'm ending this entry. Tomorrow I'll be writing the final one for the trip, but for now I have to go pack all my fake handbags and pirated DVDs.
China has been intense.
Several things have made it this way. First and foremost, there is a major language barrier here. For the first time in my life I can appreciate what it feels like not to speak the language everyone else around me does. Also, I have a newfound appreciation for Chinese people who learn to speak English because I'm pretty sure if I worked at it the rest of my life I couldn't speak Chinese. I keep trying to say "thank you" and it comes out sounding like a sneeze. However, we have been very lucky here in China to have Grace, my brother's college friend and possibly the world's best hostess/tour guide, to show us around and be our full time translator. (Last night, Grace left us on our own for the first time since the tragic train station arrival day. She told the taxi driver exactly where to go and sent us home. Within five minutes we were lost and certain we'd be sleeping on the streets of Beijing. So how do three clueless Americans find their way home with no Chinese? Laura recognized a KFC and of course we knew our way home from there. I think this pretty much makes us the ultimate Americans. We might as well have asked him to pull over and let us get some fried chicken.)
However, while Grace has seriously been, well, extremely gracious, she is also probably the most hard core tour guide I've ever met. I don't think there's anything left in the city or surrounding area of Beijing that I have not seen and/or learned about in the last few days. We have had early morning tours of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, late afternoon pedal boat rides around the summer palace, a quick stop by the new Olympic Stadium, nights out at popular expat bars, and more food than even I could manage to eat. It's been amazing. It's also worth noting that all of Grace's friends here are graduates of schools like Harvard or Princeton, they're all working on some version of a PhD or MBA and they all speak fluent Chinese. So I feel like a complete idiot pretty much all the time.
Today was an especially intense day. After getting back from random Beijing bars in the wee hours of the morning (including one that we accessed by crawling over a fence into a closed, dark park- something I never anticipated doing in a communist country) we had to be up at 5:15 a.m. to head to the Great Wall for a four hour hike. I almost died on that hike. I blame this partially on the pollution here in China. It's out of control. My eyes have been bloodshot, my lungs have been congested and my throat has hurt since we crossed the border. Beijing is so hazy it's hard to see more than a few buildings away at times. I will be very interested come August to see how Olympic athletes handle it. (Do you like how I just compared myself to an Olympic athlete? I mean, if you'd seen me on this hike today, I think you'd understand.) Anyway, it was a hard hike. 11 kilometers felt like about 111111 miles as it involved some serious stair climbing. But it was cool. And at the end we got to go on a zip line across a river so I liked that part.
Tonight is our final night of the trip. As a treat after our hike, Grace took us to a massage place where we got Chinese massages. Grace warned us before we went that occasionally traditional Chinese massages can be a little painful as they are all about pressure points. I said I could handle it. Grace, Laura and I were in the same room and somehow, of all of the masseuses in all of China, I got one who looked like she was a linebacker. Seriously, I don't know how it happened. My entire time in Asia I've felt freakishly large until this woman walked in tonight. I'm pretty sure she thought the point of the massage was to actually massage my internal organs through my back. At one point I thought I felt her rip my kidney out, but it was hard to tell. Anyway, hopefully it will keep me from being sore tomorrow.
Ah, tomorrow. The final day. Everett is flying out in the late afternoon and Laura and I leave in the evening. Laura is in a state of depression and while I'm sad that this trip is ending, the thought of squeezing Rosie in 48 hours makes me want to cry with joy. Ok, I'm ending this entry. Tomorrow I'll be writing the final one for the trip, but for now I have to go pack all my fake handbags and pirated DVDs.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Beijing
I don't really like taking responsibility for my mistakes. If it's ever possible, I will try my best to slyly push them off to someone else. And if my brother is around, it's almost certain that he is the one who will get blamed. And if I'm hungry when I'm doing the blaming, then chances are, it won't be so much "sly" as "overtly yelling that this is definitely the other person's fault."
However, when I began making a series of mistakes yesterday that culminated in Laura, Everett and I standing today in a crowd of about 5,000 Chinese people, not having eaten in 24 hours, having only had half a bottle of water during that time, and not having a single penny of accepted currency to our name, I didn't even have the strength or desire to blame someone else. I just wanted a Big Mac, a Diet Coke and a shower more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
You see, after all my big talk on this blog yesterday about our going to get snacks etc, we ran out of time. Also, it didn't really occur to us to get Chinese money before we left Hong Kong. Also, it didn't occur to us to make reservations at a hotel or hostel in Beijing before we got here. Also, it didn't occur to us to find the address of a hotel or hostel before we got here. So, you see, we have only ourselves to blame.
Yesterday afternoon, after we'd settled into our rooms on the train, Laura and I were hungry. We hadn't eaten anything since having muffins for breakfast and it was 3 o'clock. Laura went down to check out the food car and was met with a lot of yelling in Chinese and forcing her to go back to our room. Luckily Everett had purchased some random almond flavored cookies at the duty free shop at the train station, so we ate those.
Dinner time arrived and some guy yelling in Chinese came down the hall. We offered to buy something from him in Hong Kong dollars, he shook his head and kept walking. So, Laura and I ventured down to the food car again. This time we sat down at a table and began checking out a menu with photos of food on it. The only problem was that no one spoke English and we couldn't tell if they'd take our money. We also had very limited Hong Kong dollars so we didn't even know if we had enough money for dinner. After a lot of yelling, dirty looks shot our way, and some very exasperated Chinese people, Laura and I spread out our combined wealth of 50 Hong Kong dollars (that's about 7 USD)on the table, trying to explain that was all we had and hoping they would give us some food for it. Our "waitress," who pretty much hated us, scooped up the money and disappeared. Eventually, she reappeared with one dish that we could split between the two of us. Apparently that was all we could afford. We ate as if we'd never seen food.
Back in the room, we all had about half a water bottle left. We rationed them as the night wore on. Due to a severe lack of entertainment and Laura's addiction to ambien, the night was fairly short. We played a few rounds of 20 questions and one game of Ghost, which Laura was a asleep by the end of. We were all asleep before 10:30. And we all slept until around 10:30 a.m. The amazing thing was, the train was still moving when we woke up. I mean, there are long trips, and then there are 25 hour train rides. I feel like I'm still moving and we got off the train 5 hours ago.
By noon, our water was almost completely gone. I just kept mumbling about Big Macs. Everett pointed out that I was past the "angry" stage of hunger and had just moved on to depression. It's true. I felt like I wasn't sure life was worth living anymore. I think my stomach had started swelling from starvation. We all kept falling asleep because that's what happens when you're on a train for hours on end and haven't eaten or drank anything in what feels like eternity.
When we pulled into the Beijing train station, I've never been happier for fresh air. Of course, going through customs in communist China in a train station isn't as simple as one might think. Basically I kept getting moved around to different lines by different people. Like, one lady moved me to one line and then a man came up and told me that line was just for diplomats and yelled at me to get in another line. By the end, when another lady was trying to move me back into the diplomat line I just kept looking around like I didn't hear her, hoping I wasn't going to get thrown into prison before even making it through customs.
Finally, we were out of the train station. Except, not really. Because we had to get money and apparently finding an ATM in the Beijing West train station is like the exact opposite of trying to find a massage on the streets of Bangkok (it's impossible, in case that little reference was too much of a stretch). After lugging our insane amount of accumulated baggage around for about half an hour, I'd had enough. I was weak from thirst and tired of having the thousands of people lounging around the stations stare at me like I was crazy. I insisted that we deposit our luggage in one place where two of us could gaurd it and then the third would go in search of an ATM. I was nominated as that third person.
So, I went on the great search for an ATM. I would equivocate this to how Columbus must have felt going to the New World: discouraged, not sure if he'd ever find anything and weak from long hours on a moving vessel. Also, I understand that I don't look Chinese. I'm 5'9" with blond hair and blue eyes, but seriously, there is a major cultural difference in the amount of staring allowed by social norms here. I walked around for about 20 minutes looking for an ATM and I'm pretty sure I've never been stared at that much in the rest of my life combined.
I never did find an ATM. Well, actually, that's a lie. I did. But it wouldn't take my card. I also had to pass a KFC on my way to it which almost made me cry. I returned back to our spot and sent Everett out. 20 minutes later he returned with money and apple flavored water, which we all gulped down like we'd been in the dessert for days. I also hugged Everett long enough for him to get uncomfortable in the basement of the train station.
The thing is, you'd think this would be the end of the story. But that means that you've forgotten about our lack of hotel and/or hotel address planning. From the train station we ended up in a cab with an extremely friendly driver who spoke no English, but listened to a lot of Bob Marley as we drove through Beijing. It's odd to think that the next time I hear Bob Marley, I'll probably think of Beijing. We stopped at several hotels, drove around in circles and made a lot of gestures before ending up at a random hostel down an alley, which actually seems quite nice. It was 6:30 p.m. before we got to the hostel. I am pretty sure that it is purely through God's good grace we're here and not sleeping on the floor of Beijing West train station tonight.
And, don't worry, after chowing down at KFC (I insisted that we were strictly eating American food tonight) we stopped at a convenience store for snacks. There's a famous scene in Gone with the Wind when the main character, Scarlett, after a rather harrowing day during the Civil War era, starts pulling up dirt at sunset and screaming "I'll never be hungry again." That's kind of what I felt like in the convenience store. I am now armed with enough random food to make it through the four days. Maybe longer. I'll never be hungry again.
However, when I began making a series of mistakes yesterday that culminated in Laura, Everett and I standing today in a crowd of about 5,000 Chinese people, not having eaten in 24 hours, having only had half a bottle of water during that time, and not having a single penny of accepted currency to our name, I didn't even have the strength or desire to blame someone else. I just wanted a Big Mac, a Diet Coke and a shower more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
You see, after all my big talk on this blog yesterday about our going to get snacks etc, we ran out of time. Also, it didn't really occur to us to get Chinese money before we left Hong Kong. Also, it didn't occur to us to make reservations at a hotel or hostel in Beijing before we got here. Also, it didn't occur to us to find the address of a hotel or hostel before we got here. So, you see, we have only ourselves to blame.
Yesterday afternoon, after we'd settled into our rooms on the train, Laura and I were hungry. We hadn't eaten anything since having muffins for breakfast and it was 3 o'clock. Laura went down to check out the food car and was met with a lot of yelling in Chinese and forcing her to go back to our room. Luckily Everett had purchased some random almond flavored cookies at the duty free shop at the train station, so we ate those.
Dinner time arrived and some guy yelling in Chinese came down the hall. We offered to buy something from him in Hong Kong dollars, he shook his head and kept walking. So, Laura and I ventured down to the food car again. This time we sat down at a table and began checking out a menu with photos of food on it. The only problem was that no one spoke English and we couldn't tell if they'd take our money. We also had very limited Hong Kong dollars so we didn't even know if we had enough money for dinner. After a lot of yelling, dirty looks shot our way, and some very exasperated Chinese people, Laura and I spread out our combined wealth of 50 Hong Kong dollars (that's about 7 USD)on the table, trying to explain that was all we had and hoping they would give us some food for it. Our "waitress," who pretty much hated us, scooped up the money and disappeared. Eventually, she reappeared with one dish that we could split between the two of us. Apparently that was all we could afford. We ate as if we'd never seen food.
Back in the room, we all had about half a water bottle left. We rationed them as the night wore on. Due to a severe lack of entertainment and Laura's addiction to ambien, the night was fairly short. We played a few rounds of 20 questions and one game of Ghost, which Laura was a asleep by the end of. We were all asleep before 10:30. And we all slept until around 10:30 a.m. The amazing thing was, the train was still moving when we woke up. I mean, there are long trips, and then there are 25 hour train rides. I feel like I'm still moving and we got off the train 5 hours ago.
By noon, our water was almost completely gone. I just kept mumbling about Big Macs. Everett pointed out that I was past the "angry" stage of hunger and had just moved on to depression. It's true. I felt like I wasn't sure life was worth living anymore. I think my stomach had started swelling from starvation. We all kept falling asleep because that's what happens when you're on a train for hours on end and haven't eaten or drank anything in what feels like eternity.
When we pulled into the Beijing train station, I've never been happier for fresh air. Of course, going through customs in communist China in a train station isn't as simple as one might think. Basically I kept getting moved around to different lines by different people. Like, one lady moved me to one line and then a man came up and told me that line was just for diplomats and yelled at me to get in another line. By the end, when another lady was trying to move me back into the diplomat line I just kept looking around like I didn't hear her, hoping I wasn't going to get thrown into prison before even making it through customs.
Finally, we were out of the train station. Except, not really. Because we had to get money and apparently finding an ATM in the Beijing West train station is like the exact opposite of trying to find a massage on the streets of Bangkok (it's impossible, in case that little reference was too much of a stretch). After lugging our insane amount of accumulated baggage around for about half an hour, I'd had enough. I was weak from thirst and tired of having the thousands of people lounging around the stations stare at me like I was crazy. I insisted that we deposit our luggage in one place where two of us could gaurd it and then the third would go in search of an ATM. I was nominated as that third person.
So, I went on the great search for an ATM. I would equivocate this to how Columbus must have felt going to the New World: discouraged, not sure if he'd ever find anything and weak from long hours on a moving vessel. Also, I understand that I don't look Chinese. I'm 5'9" with blond hair and blue eyes, but seriously, there is a major cultural difference in the amount of staring allowed by social norms here. I walked around for about 20 minutes looking for an ATM and I'm pretty sure I've never been stared at that much in the rest of my life combined.
I never did find an ATM. Well, actually, that's a lie. I did. But it wouldn't take my card. I also had to pass a KFC on my way to it which almost made me cry. I returned back to our spot and sent Everett out. 20 minutes later he returned with money and apple flavored water, which we all gulped down like we'd been in the dessert for days. I also hugged Everett long enough for him to get uncomfortable in the basement of the train station.
The thing is, you'd think this would be the end of the story. But that means that you've forgotten about our lack of hotel and/or hotel address planning. From the train station we ended up in a cab with an extremely friendly driver who spoke no English, but listened to a lot of Bob Marley as we drove through Beijing. It's odd to think that the next time I hear Bob Marley, I'll probably think of Beijing. We stopped at several hotels, drove around in circles and made a lot of gestures before ending up at a random hostel down an alley, which actually seems quite nice. It was 6:30 p.m. before we got to the hostel. I am pretty sure that it is purely through God's good grace we're here and not sleeping on the floor of Beijing West train station tonight.
And, don't worry, after chowing down at KFC (I insisted that we were strictly eating American food tonight) we stopped at a convenience store for snacks. There's a famous scene in Gone with the Wind when the main character, Scarlett, after a rather harrowing day during the Civil War era, starts pulling up dirt at sunset and screaming "I'll never be hungry again." That's kind of what I felt like in the convenience store. I am now armed with enough random food to make it through the four days. Maybe longer. I'll never be hungry again.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Headed to Beijing
Ok, so this is a very brief post because we're about to catch a train to Beijing. A 24 hour train to Beijing. That's a long train ride. So, I don't actually have to make this a short post due to catching the train, but rather because I have to purchase some snacks prior to 24 hours without constant availability of any kind of Pringles I want.
I had big plans to write about our time here in Hong Kong (a city that is basically London masquerading around as an Asian city - it has foggy weather, Marks & Spencer, Pret a Manger, pubs on every corner and thousands of British accents), however, my blogging time was cut short due to neccessary responses to several emails including a very serious one from my father regarding the risks of various diseases due to tattoos in Thailand. I have now explained to him that we didn't actually get tattoos so if anyone else was under the same misconception (mostly due to my blatant lying on my photo captions), don't worry. It was just henna. Everett and I don't have Hep B. At least not from seaside tatoos. Maybe from swimming in water where we kept seeing syringes washed up on the beach though. Who's to say?
Ok, I'll update when I get to Beijing - our final stop on this trip. (I can't say "final" in front of Laura anymore because she starts crying every time. She claims she's going to miss traveling, but I suspect she's really just going to miss sleeping in the same miniature double bed with me every other night.)
I had big plans to write about our time here in Hong Kong (a city that is basically London masquerading around as an Asian city - it has foggy weather, Marks & Spencer, Pret a Manger, pubs on every corner and thousands of British accents), however, my blogging time was cut short due to neccessary responses to several emails including a very serious one from my father regarding the risks of various diseases due to tattoos in Thailand. I have now explained to him that we didn't actually get tattoos so if anyone else was under the same misconception (mostly due to my blatant lying on my photo captions), don't worry. It was just henna. Everett and I don't have Hep B. At least not from seaside tatoos. Maybe from swimming in water where we kept seeing syringes washed up on the beach though. Who's to say?
Ok, I'll update when I get to Beijing - our final stop on this trip. (I can't say "final" in front of Laura anymore because she starts crying every time. She claims she's going to miss traveling, but I suspect she's really just going to miss sleeping in the same miniature double bed with me every other night.)
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Thailand in Photos... Hong Kong in Words
I'm now just organizing my albums by country... something I probably should have been smart enough to do from the start, but the previous manner will have to do for now. Thailand was, unfortunately, a rather short stop on our trip. I say unfortunately because really all of us would have preferred that it was one of the longer ones, but due to timing we were a bit locked in.
We've spent the day in Hong Kong - the city where they say "East meets West." If that means that there are just as many Starbucks and McDonalds as there are any kind of Chinese restaurants, then yeah, it's where East meets West.
I had my first chai tea latte in weeks. I also experienced something else I haven't enjoyed in weeks: a day without sweat pouring out of every pore of my body. It was refreshing.
We did dim sum for lunch because, well, that's what you do in Hong Kong apparently. And, in our efforts to really embrace the culture, we ate some kind of crispy peking duck dish that took them forever to prepare and cost more than our beds last night. When it came, it was accompanied by some odd looking tortillas, some sauce and a few unidentifiable veggies. We looked at it for a long time. We had no idea what to do with it.
I hesitantly pulled one piece off with my chop sticks and put a little sauce on it, tasting it. Laura pulled a piece off and stared at it. Everett started to make a burrito out of it. About this time one of the waitresses walked by the table and looked at us as if we had smeared the sauce on each others arms and started gnawing on those. She started laughing and then came over to our table and prepared every last tortilla - she wasn't leaving anything to chance and clearly she thought it was obvious that we continued it would be a disaster. We were all grateful though as the duck tasted significantly better the way she did it.
We've tried to embrace the culture a few other ways as well. Today we went to a museum that taught me more about Hong Kong than I've ever known about the US. We also watched the nightly light show on the harbor. And we followed a random guy through a maze of smoky halls that smelled like bacon to see fake watches and handbags. So cultural.
Now I'm going to bed- luckily for our last night in this particular hotel. I learned today that where we're staying is the most densely populated area in the world. I think our building might be the most densely populated building in the area. Mostly by rats.
Enjoy the photos.
We've spent the day in Hong Kong - the city where they say "East meets West." If that means that there are just as many Starbucks and McDonalds as there are any kind of Chinese restaurants, then yeah, it's where East meets West.
I had my first chai tea latte in weeks. I also experienced something else I haven't enjoyed in weeks: a day without sweat pouring out of every pore of my body. It was refreshing.
We did dim sum for lunch because, well, that's what you do in Hong Kong apparently. And, in our efforts to really embrace the culture, we ate some kind of crispy peking duck dish that took them forever to prepare and cost more than our beds last night. When it came, it was accompanied by some odd looking tortillas, some sauce and a few unidentifiable veggies. We looked at it for a long time. We had no idea what to do with it.
I hesitantly pulled one piece off with my chop sticks and put a little sauce on it, tasting it. Laura pulled a piece off and stared at it. Everett started to make a burrito out of it. About this time one of the waitresses walked by the table and looked at us as if we had smeared the sauce on each others arms and started gnawing on those. She started laughing and then came over to our table and prepared every last tortilla - she wasn't leaving anything to chance and clearly she thought it was obvious that we continued it would be a disaster. We were all grateful though as the duck tasted significantly better the way she did it.
We've tried to embrace the culture a few other ways as well. Today we went to a museum that taught me more about Hong Kong than I've ever known about the US. We also watched the nightly light show on the harbor. And we followed a random guy through a maze of smoky halls that smelled like bacon to see fake watches and handbags. So cultural.
Now I'm going to bed- luckily for our last night in this particular hotel. I learned today that where we're staying is the most densely populated area in the world. I think our building might be the most densely populated building in the area. Mostly by rats.
Enjoy the photos.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Hong Kong Night One
I didn't want to leave Thailand. I don't think any of us did really. Laura actually confessed to crying a little on the plane. It was just such a beautiful country where just about every person we met was kind and, perhaps best of all, everything was quite cheap - including some amazing food. (I know you've been wondering and you'll be pleased to know that not only did I meet my goal of Pad Thai every day - I exceeded it. Some days I ate it twice. I am now the size of a house.)
However, all good things must come to an end as they say and so at 6 a.m. this morning one of the guys from our hotel banged on the door of our ten dollar room and told us the taxi was there to take us to the airport. I did almost cry at that point, but that was much more to do with the exhaustion of only 6 hours of sleep after having none the night before.
In Bangkok we caught an Ethiopian Air flight to Hong Kong. This was my first time on Ethiopian Air. This could be because it only flies into Dulles in the US and from there it only flies to one place. So, the chances of me hopping on one of their flights in the past was fairly slim. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my airline food (Laura disagrees vehemently with this opinion), however, what was a bit of a struggle was the stench on the plane. The flight we got on had just arrived in Bangkok from Ethiopia so most of the people on the plane had been sitting there for about 14 hours. And as far as I could tell, they'd been sweating the entire time. At least that's what it smelled like. I mean, I'll give them the fact that the flight departed from Africa at 12:15 a.m. so that means they probably didn't shower just before and from what I hear, Africa is hot, but seriously, I've not been on a plane that smelled that bad in some time.
Arriving in Hong Kong we were pretty much clueless. I learned how to say a certain area of town I'd read was the tourist area and I ended up being shoved in front of Everett and Laura like 6 times as they tried to explain where we wanted to go. We eventually caught a train and then a bus to take us to the Holiday Inn in that section of town as I thought maybe that would be a decent enough area to find a room.
On the bus we met an American who was like a walking Lonely Planet guide to Hong Kong. He could not have been more helpful and as we were getting off he pointed us to a hostel around the corner from the Holiday Inn. Apparently in Hong Kong you're either staying in expensive spots or total dumps. I longingly looked at the Holiday Inn which Everett, before even walking inside, pronounced was WAY out of our price range - first time I've ever had to deal with that knowledge regarding a Holiday Inn- and made the executive decision we were going to the hostel.
I feel like I've probably complained about hostels a lot on this trip so I'm not going to go into detail here. In fact, I'll just list three things about it and then you can make your own decisions when you see the photos. 1) There are random stray cats wandering the halls and signs posted on the walls about permits from the city to have rat poison in a public place. 2) There is a sweat shop on our floor that we pass every time we walk from the "lobby" (see reason for quotes in number 3) to the room. 3) The lobby doubles as a Tae Kwon Do fighting area.
However, Hong Kong looks awesome thus far. We had dinner at a sushi spot (incidentally at a table next to a prostitute and her American man who we flew from Bangkok with) and drinks at an Irish pub (at my insistence). Now, Laura's pulling out her bed bug ridden sleeping bag and Everett's using the hostel's assigned toilet paper (we were given one roll at check in and told we pay extra if we want another- sorry, that is technically four, but I really couldn't help myself).
However, all good things must come to an end as they say and so at 6 a.m. this morning one of the guys from our hotel banged on the door of our ten dollar room and told us the taxi was there to take us to the airport. I did almost cry at that point, but that was much more to do with the exhaustion of only 6 hours of sleep after having none the night before.
In Bangkok we caught an Ethiopian Air flight to Hong Kong. This was my first time on Ethiopian Air. This could be because it only flies into Dulles in the US and from there it only flies to one place. So, the chances of me hopping on one of their flights in the past was fairly slim. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my airline food (Laura disagrees vehemently with this opinion), however, what was a bit of a struggle was the stench on the plane. The flight we got on had just arrived in Bangkok from Ethiopia so most of the people on the plane had been sitting there for about 14 hours. And as far as I could tell, they'd been sweating the entire time. At least that's what it smelled like. I mean, I'll give them the fact that the flight departed from Africa at 12:15 a.m. so that means they probably didn't shower just before and from what I hear, Africa is hot, but seriously, I've not been on a plane that smelled that bad in some time.
Arriving in Hong Kong we were pretty much clueless. I learned how to say a certain area of town I'd read was the tourist area and I ended up being shoved in front of Everett and Laura like 6 times as they tried to explain where we wanted to go. We eventually caught a train and then a bus to take us to the Holiday Inn in that section of town as I thought maybe that would be a decent enough area to find a room.
On the bus we met an American who was like a walking Lonely Planet guide to Hong Kong. He could not have been more helpful and as we were getting off he pointed us to a hostel around the corner from the Holiday Inn. Apparently in Hong Kong you're either staying in expensive spots or total dumps. I longingly looked at the Holiday Inn which Everett, before even walking inside, pronounced was WAY out of our price range - first time I've ever had to deal with that knowledge regarding a Holiday Inn- and made the executive decision we were going to the hostel.
I feel like I've probably complained about hostels a lot on this trip so I'm not going to go into detail here. In fact, I'll just list three things about it and then you can make your own decisions when you see the photos. 1) There are random stray cats wandering the halls and signs posted on the walls about permits from the city to have rat poison in a public place. 2) There is a sweat shop on our floor that we pass every time we walk from the "lobby" (see reason for quotes in number 3) to the room. 3) The lobby doubles as a Tae Kwon Do fighting area.
However, Hong Kong looks awesome thus far. We had dinner at a sushi spot (incidentally at a table next to a prostitute and her American man who we flew from Bangkok with) and drinks at an Irish pub (at my insistence). Now, Laura's pulling out her bed bug ridden sleeping bag and Everett's using the hostel's assigned toilet paper (we were given one roll at check in and told we pay extra if we want another- sorry, that is technically four, but I really couldn't help myself).
Monday, April 21, 2008
Full Moon
Before I came here I was told that the Full Moon party in Thailand was supposed to be one of the craziest and most fun parties in the entire world. With a reputation like that, I planned our entire trip to ensure that we would be here for this supposedly amazing party. As the time drew closer to it, I began to get nervous that maybe this would kind of be a 'New Years Eve kind of scenario' where there's just too much build up and the night ends up being kind of a dud. However, as it turns out, the party more than lived up to its rep. I'm going on somewhere close to 40 hours with no sleep so bear with me in this description. Some events of the evening have been edited due to a)it was a long night and there was just too much going on and b) certain viewership on this site prohibits much above a G rating.
8:00 p.m. - Laura, Everett and I board a small bus that will take us to a speed boat to cross from our island to Koh Phangan, the island where the party is held.
8:10 p.m. - We convince the bus driver to put in his 50 Cent CD. And turn it up. Everett keeps yelling "7 a.m.!" because thats when he says we're staying at the party until. He'd been saying this for days.
8:45 p.m. - After driving in circles for the last 45 minutes and making random convenience store stops for drinks, our driver finally locates another group he was supposed to pick up. It's three crazy Scottish backpackers and they're taking swigs from a fifth of liquor that they pass around the bus. While 50 Cent blares.
9:00 p.m. - We board the speed boat to the island with about 50 other very excited partiers.
9:20 p.m. - Laura and I were sitting in the front of the boat on the same side as the driver. I had a bottle of Sprite I'd decided I didn't want so I began to pour it out of the boat. Unfortunately, due to the fact that we were traveling at about 60 miles an hour and the angle of the bottle, I didn't take into consideration that the Sprite would go flying in the face of our boat driver. I didn't actually realize it had happened until the boat suddenly came to a total stop in the middle of the ocean. Laura turned to me and said "oh no, you think it's a shark?" (I don't know why we would stop for a shark). Then I hear Everett from below deck asking why in the world our driver had come to the bottom part of the boat and was pouring water bottles all over his face. Then I realized what had happened. I told Laura to act casual. As she still didn't know what had happened, that wasn't too hard. Then I explained and we both looked back to see the spray of Sprite across the windshield. Luckily, the rest of the people on the boat were really too drunk to know or care what happened. Except our now blind captain. I felt kind of bad about him.
9:40 p.m. - We arrive at Koh Phangan. And it is insane. The streets are packed with people making their way to the beach where the party is held. About every five feet another vendor is selling these buckets that basically include one can of soda, one can of red bull and about 12 shots of liquor as far as I can tell. We jump right in with the crowd and are soon carrying our multi colored buckets to the beach where we can hear techno pumping.
10:30ish p.m. - Everett has declared that we all need glow in the dark body paint. Just about every other person on the beach has it so we begin walking, looking for a place that will paint us. Walking down the packed beach involves stepping over about 35 passed out people just to go about 20 yards. We pause briefly to ask if we can help with one girl who looks like her friend just drug her out of the ocean.
11ish p.m. - Everett now has SAME SAME painted in blue across his chest. I have stars down my arm. Laura, who has flames down her arm, has turned the paintbrush on the painter and is painting stuff on his face.
11:30ish p.m. - A man who looks like Weird Al, but weirder, is dancing in front of a crowd of people wearing a leopard print speedo bathing suit. He then pulls down the bathing suit. Laura cheers and he comes off the stage to dance with her.
12ish a.m. - Everett and I lose Laura in a crowd. I stand up on a stool to find her, but then decide dancing on the stool is more fun than the sand and I end up staying there for a good half hour. Everett claims I began dancing like John Travolta 70's style as soon as my feet hit the stool. That's up for debate, but there are some photos that make it seem like it could be true.
12:45ish a.m. - Laura and I have lost Everett. We finally relocate him. Laura yells at Everett to quit disappearing. Everett yells at Laura that if she keeps talking to him like that he will slap her in the face. I take this as my cue to slap him in the face. He then shoves me across several Thai people and into the sand. Then he walks away while Laura yells after him "you're crazy! you're crazy!" That was the last time we saw Everett on Koh Phangan.
1ish a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the beach near the water watching about 85 guys lined up and down the beach peeing into the water. Laura is bawling crying saying that she is very angry at Everett and then alternatively profusely apologizing for complaining to me about my brother.
1:20ish a.m. - I literally pull Laura off the beach up to one of the bars, insisting that we only get to come to the Full Moon party once and we're going to make the most of it. We end up sitting on stools near the bar where eventually a British guy finds us and starts spouting off wise words of only living once and there is no pouting at the Full Moon Party... or something to that effect.
2ish a.m. - I am offered ectasy for about the 73rd time that night.
3ish a.m. - I am dancing and Laura is a few feet away. Suddenly, I feel water gushing onto my feet. I reach down and realize that the water is coming from a water bottle that I had in my purse. And it's not just leaking. Someone has slashed open the bottom of my new fake North Face bag in which I'm carrying both Laura and I's passports and money. In the process of cutting the bag in an attempt to steal my stuff, the guy has also cut open my water bottle. Thank goodness, or I probably wouldn't have even noticed it. Then I look behind me and realize the guy is still standing there with the razor in his hand. I was pretty angry. Partially because stealing from me makes me angry. And partially because I paid good dong for that North Face bag- fake or not. I turned around and shoved the guy over backwards and into the sand. While he was heavier than me, he was also shorter. And I was very angry. I also think I had some element of suprise because for the most part people don't expect blond American girls to be shoving them over. He was not happy. He jumped out of the sand and started coming at me again, this time angry and still holding his razor. The thing was, I was still angry too. So I rushed at him and shoved him backwards into the sand again. Seriously. I don't know what got into me. But I don't like robbers. After his second landing in the sand, the crowd kind of realized something was going on and we were both pushed off in separate directions. I never saw him again.
4 a.m. - Laura has been dancing on the same short stool for the last three hours. I have sweat about 17 water bottles out of my body. She says she'd like to take a break so we head back down to the water to watch more people pee and people engage in other illicit activies waterside.
5 a.m. - We walk back through town to catch the boat back.
6:15ish a.m. - Our boat arrives back on Koh Samui. I have drifted to sleep on the life jacket of the random Australian guy next to me. The sun is starting to come up.
6:30 a.m. - Laura and I are tossed into some random pick up truck that takes us around the entire island and finally back to our hotel.
7 a.m. - Laura and I collapse in beach chairs in front of the hotel (we hadn't rented a room yet) as the sun is rising we drift to sleep.
7:20 a.m. - I wake up because the sun has risen and I feel like I'm on fire. I walk across the beach to a shady area and sit, trying not to fall asleep and wishing check in time at 11:30 would hurry up and come.
8 a.m. - I am getting very nervous as I haven't seen Everett in hours. We had agreed to meet back at the hotel as a last resort if we got lost. The last boat left from the island at 7 a.m. so even if he'd caught that, he should have been back.
8:30 a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the road now, waiting for Everett.
9:30 a.m. - Laura is eating a McDonalds cheeseburger and I feel like I'm dying. Everett still isn't there. I'm trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to start looking for him. And how in the world I'm going to explain this to my parents.
10 a.m. - Laura goes back to the hotel to check with the owner to see when our room will be ready. The owner tells her that our friend is in the room where we left our bags. He'd been there since 2 a.m. "You didn't know?" Apparently Mr. "We're Gonna Party ALL Night Long" hadn't even stayed on the island past 1 a.m. I've been making fun of him ever since I heard this news.
10:05 a.m. - I'm so relieved to see Everett that I'm not even mad about the fact that he has disappeared for the last 10 hours. We all three climb into the king sized bed and Everett and I laugh for an hour straight looking at the night's photos. I've never been happier for a bed and air conditioning in my life.
4 p.m. - Everett and Laura make up.
8:00 p.m. - Laura, Everett and I board a small bus that will take us to a speed boat to cross from our island to Koh Phangan, the island where the party is held.
8:10 p.m. - We convince the bus driver to put in his 50 Cent CD. And turn it up. Everett keeps yelling "7 a.m.!" because thats when he says we're staying at the party until. He'd been saying this for days.
8:45 p.m. - After driving in circles for the last 45 minutes and making random convenience store stops for drinks, our driver finally locates another group he was supposed to pick up. It's three crazy Scottish backpackers and they're taking swigs from a fifth of liquor that they pass around the bus. While 50 Cent blares.
9:00 p.m. - We board the speed boat to the island with about 50 other very excited partiers.
9:20 p.m. - Laura and I were sitting in the front of the boat on the same side as the driver. I had a bottle of Sprite I'd decided I didn't want so I began to pour it out of the boat. Unfortunately, due to the fact that we were traveling at about 60 miles an hour and the angle of the bottle, I didn't take into consideration that the Sprite would go flying in the face of our boat driver. I didn't actually realize it had happened until the boat suddenly came to a total stop in the middle of the ocean. Laura turned to me and said "oh no, you think it's a shark?" (I don't know why we would stop for a shark). Then I hear Everett from below deck asking why in the world our driver had come to the bottom part of the boat and was pouring water bottles all over his face. Then I realized what had happened. I told Laura to act casual. As she still didn't know what had happened, that wasn't too hard. Then I explained and we both looked back to see the spray of Sprite across the windshield. Luckily, the rest of the people on the boat were really too drunk to know or care what happened. Except our now blind captain. I felt kind of bad about him.
9:40 p.m. - We arrive at Koh Phangan. And it is insane. The streets are packed with people making their way to the beach where the party is held. About every five feet another vendor is selling these buckets that basically include one can of soda, one can of red bull and about 12 shots of liquor as far as I can tell. We jump right in with the crowd and are soon carrying our multi colored buckets to the beach where we can hear techno pumping.
10:30ish p.m. - Everett has declared that we all need glow in the dark body paint. Just about every other person on the beach has it so we begin walking, looking for a place that will paint us. Walking down the packed beach involves stepping over about 35 passed out people just to go about 20 yards. We pause briefly to ask if we can help with one girl who looks like her friend just drug her out of the ocean.
11ish p.m. - Everett now has SAME SAME painted in blue across his chest. I have stars down my arm. Laura, who has flames down her arm, has turned the paintbrush on the painter and is painting stuff on his face.
11:30ish p.m. - A man who looks like Weird Al, but weirder, is dancing in front of a crowd of people wearing a leopard print speedo bathing suit. He then pulls down the bathing suit. Laura cheers and he comes off the stage to dance with her.
12ish a.m. - Everett and I lose Laura in a crowd. I stand up on a stool to find her, but then decide dancing on the stool is more fun than the sand and I end up staying there for a good half hour. Everett claims I began dancing like John Travolta 70's style as soon as my feet hit the stool. That's up for debate, but there are some photos that make it seem like it could be true.
12:45ish a.m. - Laura and I have lost Everett. We finally relocate him. Laura yells at Everett to quit disappearing. Everett yells at Laura that if she keeps talking to him like that he will slap her in the face. I take this as my cue to slap him in the face. He then shoves me across several Thai people and into the sand. Then he walks away while Laura yells after him "you're crazy! you're crazy!" That was the last time we saw Everett on Koh Phangan.
1ish a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the beach near the water watching about 85 guys lined up and down the beach peeing into the water. Laura is bawling crying saying that she is very angry at Everett and then alternatively profusely apologizing for complaining to me about my brother.
1:20ish a.m. - I literally pull Laura off the beach up to one of the bars, insisting that we only get to come to the Full Moon party once and we're going to make the most of it. We end up sitting on stools near the bar where eventually a British guy finds us and starts spouting off wise words of only living once and there is no pouting at the Full Moon Party... or something to that effect.
2ish a.m. - I am offered ectasy for about the 73rd time that night.
3ish a.m. - I am dancing and Laura is a few feet away. Suddenly, I feel water gushing onto my feet. I reach down and realize that the water is coming from a water bottle that I had in my purse. And it's not just leaking. Someone has slashed open the bottom of my new fake North Face bag in which I'm carrying both Laura and I's passports and money. In the process of cutting the bag in an attempt to steal my stuff, the guy has also cut open my water bottle. Thank goodness, or I probably wouldn't have even noticed it. Then I look behind me and realize the guy is still standing there with the razor in his hand. I was pretty angry. Partially because stealing from me makes me angry. And partially because I paid good dong for that North Face bag- fake or not. I turned around and shoved the guy over backwards and into the sand. While he was heavier than me, he was also shorter. And I was very angry. I also think I had some element of suprise because for the most part people don't expect blond American girls to be shoving them over. He was not happy. He jumped out of the sand and started coming at me again, this time angry and still holding his razor. The thing was, I was still angry too. So I rushed at him and shoved him backwards into the sand again. Seriously. I don't know what got into me. But I don't like robbers. After his second landing in the sand, the crowd kind of realized something was going on and we were both pushed off in separate directions. I never saw him again.
4 a.m. - Laura has been dancing on the same short stool for the last three hours. I have sweat about 17 water bottles out of my body. She says she'd like to take a break so we head back down to the water to watch more people pee and people engage in other illicit activies waterside.
5 a.m. - We walk back through town to catch the boat back.
6:15ish a.m. - Our boat arrives back on Koh Samui. I have drifted to sleep on the life jacket of the random Australian guy next to me. The sun is starting to come up.
6:30 a.m. - Laura and I are tossed into some random pick up truck that takes us around the entire island and finally back to our hotel.
7 a.m. - Laura and I collapse in beach chairs in front of the hotel (we hadn't rented a room yet) as the sun is rising we drift to sleep.
7:20 a.m. - I wake up because the sun has risen and I feel like I'm on fire. I walk across the beach to a shady area and sit, trying not to fall asleep and wishing check in time at 11:30 would hurry up and come.
8 a.m. - I am getting very nervous as I haven't seen Everett in hours. We had agreed to meet back at the hotel as a last resort if we got lost. The last boat left from the island at 7 a.m. so even if he'd caught that, he should have been back.
8:30 a.m. - Laura and I are sitting on the road now, waiting for Everett.
9:30 a.m. - Laura is eating a McDonalds cheeseburger and I feel like I'm dying. Everett still isn't there. I'm trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to start looking for him. And how in the world I'm going to explain this to my parents.
10 a.m. - Laura goes back to the hotel to check with the owner to see when our room will be ready. The owner tells her that our friend is in the room where we left our bags. He'd been there since 2 a.m. "You didn't know?" Apparently Mr. "We're Gonna Party ALL Night Long" hadn't even stayed on the island past 1 a.m. I've been making fun of him ever since I heard this news.
10:05 a.m. - I'm so relieved to see Everett that I'm not even mad about the fact that he has disappeared for the last 10 hours. We all three climb into the king sized bed and Everett and I laugh for an hour straight looking at the night's photos. I've never been happier for a bed and air conditioning in my life.
4 p.m. - Everett and Laura make up.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Laura v. Jet Ski
This morning we decided to go jet skiing. It was a beautiful day, the water was calm and it only cost $50 for 40 minutes for three people. So, after strapping on our life jackets and having a little bit of trouble getting the jet ski started, we were off.
Until today I thought Everett was the worst jet ski driver I'd ever ridden with. As he has been my brother for some 24 odd years now, I've had the opportunity to ride with him driving a jet ski a fair amount of time. And 90% of those times I've been pretty certain that he was trying to kill me.
Today was no exception. Once we got on, I sat in the middle and Laura sat behind me. We both hung on for dear life as Everett screamed like a mad man and we flew through the air hitting wave after wave. It was fun though and we were going up and down the coast checking out the various beach areas and hotels.
Then, Everett offered to let one of us drive. I declined as the idea of basically giving two adults piggy back rides while you hang on for dear life sounded kind of painful. I've driven a three person jet ski before and it left my arms and back sore for days. That was on a fairly calm lake. I didn't want to do it in the middle of the ocean.
Laura however jumped at the chance. I told her it was going to be hard- especially considering that Everett and I are collectively about a foot and a half taller than her. I warned her that I wasn't so sure this was a good idea. She said that if it got too hard she would switch with Everett. I shrugged.
The minute and a half that Laura drove the jet ski was one of the more insane of my life. Her basic method for driving was to gun it and go at full speed, but then us pulling her would be too much so she would immediately take all the gas off so that we would then slam into her. However, all of this came to an abrupt stop very quickly.
I'm really not even sure that we lasted a full minute and a half before I heard Everett scream (I couldn't see over him to the front) and we all went flying about 7 feet in the air off the jet ski into the middle of the ocean.
As soon as we landed I don't even think I took the time to make sure everyone was ok before I was sprinting for the jet ski which was floating about 15 feet away. While I will swim all day on the shore, I become extremely paranoid in the middle of the ocean. In my mind that is where the big fish live. In my mind they are also following any floating craft, just waiting for someone to, say, go catapulting off of it at 30 miles an hour.
I was about 3 feet away from the jet ski when Everett suddenly screamed and took off swimming. Laura then screamed "what?!" to which Everett responded "shark!"
This is the stuff of my nightmares.
I was on the jet ski in record time and hurriedly pulled Everett up behind me. Laura seemed to be swimming in slow motion. And she looked very panicky. I was trying to figure out just exactly what I was going to do if a shark attacked Laura. At that point, just as Laura was able to get back on board, the guy who had rented us the jet skis sped over to make sure we were ok. I've never been happier to have three people out of the water in my life.
The sharks existence was never totally confirmed. But Everett swears he saw it just underneath him. And, as the water was crystal clear and Everett generally tells the truth, I believe him. So, I blame Laura a little for trying to kill me. But, we all lived- and all still have all of our limbs - so I'm glad about that.
Hopefully I'll be able to say the same after tonight's party.
Until today I thought Everett was the worst jet ski driver I'd ever ridden with. As he has been my brother for some 24 odd years now, I've had the opportunity to ride with him driving a jet ski a fair amount of time. And 90% of those times I've been pretty certain that he was trying to kill me.
Today was no exception. Once we got on, I sat in the middle and Laura sat behind me. We both hung on for dear life as Everett screamed like a mad man and we flew through the air hitting wave after wave. It was fun though and we were going up and down the coast checking out the various beach areas and hotels.
Then, Everett offered to let one of us drive. I declined as the idea of basically giving two adults piggy back rides while you hang on for dear life sounded kind of painful. I've driven a three person jet ski before and it left my arms and back sore for days. That was on a fairly calm lake. I didn't want to do it in the middle of the ocean.
Laura however jumped at the chance. I told her it was going to be hard- especially considering that Everett and I are collectively about a foot and a half taller than her. I warned her that I wasn't so sure this was a good idea. She said that if it got too hard she would switch with Everett. I shrugged.
The minute and a half that Laura drove the jet ski was one of the more insane of my life. Her basic method for driving was to gun it and go at full speed, but then us pulling her would be too much so she would immediately take all the gas off so that we would then slam into her. However, all of this came to an abrupt stop very quickly.
I'm really not even sure that we lasted a full minute and a half before I heard Everett scream (I couldn't see over him to the front) and we all went flying about 7 feet in the air off the jet ski into the middle of the ocean.
As soon as we landed I don't even think I took the time to make sure everyone was ok before I was sprinting for the jet ski which was floating about 15 feet away. While I will swim all day on the shore, I become extremely paranoid in the middle of the ocean. In my mind that is where the big fish live. In my mind they are also following any floating craft, just waiting for someone to, say, go catapulting off of it at 30 miles an hour.
I was about 3 feet away from the jet ski when Everett suddenly screamed and took off swimming. Laura then screamed "what?!" to which Everett responded "shark!"
This is the stuff of my nightmares.
I was on the jet ski in record time and hurriedly pulled Everett up behind me. Laura seemed to be swimming in slow motion. And she looked very panicky. I was trying to figure out just exactly what I was going to do if a shark attacked Laura. At that point, just as Laura was able to get back on board, the guy who had rented us the jet skis sped over to make sure we were ok. I've never been happier to have three people out of the water in my life.
The sharks existence was never totally confirmed. But Everett swears he saw it just underneath him. And, as the water was crystal clear and Everett generally tells the truth, I believe him. So, I blame Laura a little for trying to kill me. But, we all lived- and all still have all of our limbs - so I'm glad about that.
Hopefully I'll be able to say the same after tonight's party.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Finally!
So, as it turns out, uploading photos is a little bit trickier in Asia than in, say, Australia. However, after trying to upload on like 85 computers between here and Saigon, I was thrilled this evening to find an internet cafe in Koh Samui, Thailand where I could finally upload. (Of course, it wasn't simple. There are three computers in this "internet cafe" and I am on the third one I tried... so third one's the charm and all that.) It's also worth noting that this computer is somehow set to German so every word I type it says I've mispelled. Which I have. If I was typing in German.
Ok, so the pics from Vietnam are there. I'm going to add Thailand soon. And I actually have a few more to add to the "From Sydney" album, but, while this computer may be actually uploading the photos, it's not doing it at what one might call a rapid pace. Or really even an acceptable pace. Luckily, it's raining in Koh Samui today so this isn't cutting into beach time so much as 'watching old Stephen Baldwin movies with Thai subtitles' time.
Enjoy the pics - unfortunately I haven't been able to add any from my nice camera yet so you'll just have to make do with these mediocre random shots taken in a much lower resolution (read: resolution that doesn't actually make all of Thailand's power crash due to me trying to upload them).
And in case you're wondering what we're doing now (since Vietnam was like 4 days ago), I will share. We're currently on an island in southern Thailand at a VERY nice hotel (a little gift from my awesome parents!) and soaking up the life of luxury that includes a private swimming pool, ocean view and lots of cheesy American movies on TV. I have stuck to my plans of eating pad thai every day and have every intention of fulfilling that goal. I have also found that Thailand holds just as much of a problem as far as my weakness for purchasing fake goods as Vietnam. Maybe more. Everett and Laura have given up on me and typically just walk out of shops sighing once they realize I am about to begin bargaining for some fake Burberry, Mulberry or other random berry good.
Tomorrow is the night of the Full Moon Party. This party, which happens once a month on a smaller island called Koh Phangan just off the coast of Koh Samui, usually draws between 7 and 10 thousand people. And apparently its only rival in the world of backpacking debauchery is the insane street in Bangkok I mentioned before. We still don't know how we're going to get there or where we will sleep tomorrow night. But I guess that's half the glory of it. Personally though I'm just hoping desperately that it rains because as far as I can figure in this country the only chance for me not sweating my skin off is rain. I've never loved getting rained on more than I do in Thailand.
Ok, time for dinner. Hopefully more pad thai.
Ok, so the pics from Vietnam are there. I'm going to add Thailand soon. And I actually have a few more to add to the "From Sydney" album, but, while this computer may be actually uploading the photos, it's not doing it at what one might call a rapid pace. Or really even an acceptable pace. Luckily, it's raining in Koh Samui today so this isn't cutting into beach time so much as 'watching old Stephen Baldwin movies with Thai subtitles' time.
Enjoy the pics - unfortunately I haven't been able to add any from my nice camera yet so you'll just have to make do with these mediocre random shots taken in a much lower resolution (read: resolution that doesn't actually make all of Thailand's power crash due to me trying to upload them).
And in case you're wondering what we're doing now (since Vietnam was like 4 days ago), I will share. We're currently on an island in southern Thailand at a VERY nice hotel (a little gift from my awesome parents!) and soaking up the life of luxury that includes a private swimming pool, ocean view and lots of cheesy American movies on TV. I have stuck to my plans of eating pad thai every day and have every intention of fulfilling that goal. I have also found that Thailand holds just as much of a problem as far as my weakness for purchasing fake goods as Vietnam. Maybe more. Everett and Laura have given up on me and typically just walk out of shops sighing once they realize I am about to begin bargaining for some fake Burberry, Mulberry or other random berry good.
Tomorrow is the night of the Full Moon Party. This party, which happens once a month on a smaller island called Koh Phangan just off the coast of Koh Samui, usually draws between 7 and 10 thousand people. And apparently its only rival in the world of backpacking debauchery is the insane street in Bangkok I mentioned before. We still don't know how we're going to get there or where we will sleep tomorrow night. But I guess that's half the glory of it. Personally though I'm just hoping desperately that it rains because as far as I can figure in this country the only chance for me not sweating my skin off is rain. I've never loved getting rained on more than I do in Thailand.
Ok, time for dinner. Hopefully more pad thai.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Prostitutes and Tuk Tuks
Bangkok is crazy. I mean, even the name of the city sounds a little crazy. I think that half of what makes Bangkok feel so crazy is its heat. In fact, that might account for more than half.
Now, I am a person who becomes both hot and cold fairly easily. If we're going to be honest, I'd prefer 75 sunny and breezy all of the time because really I can get a little worked up over the weather. I'd say it's the most high maintenance part about me. Bangkok makes every other time I've complained of heat look like a cool day. This city is so steamy, still and excrutiatingly hot that it's actually hard to focus on much else. So, at the end of the day everything kind of feels like a painful dream that involved sweat dripping in your eyes and you desperately seeking an air conditioned 7 Eleven. That makes Bangkok seem crazy.
But that's not it completely. There is an area - and actually even just one road- in this city that pretty much epitomizes what I imagined for backpacker culture in southeast asia. There, you can purchase tatoos, women, drugs and drink. All at relatively cheap prices apparently. And it is PACKED with westerners - most of them looking like they've been there a few weeks to long and all of them sweating. For those who want to fit in, but aren't keen on drugs and odd STDs, there is plenty of henna, hair braiding and hippie looking apparel for sale.
The first time we went to the street I actually really liked it. I don't know why. It was about a million degrees and it was that kind of heat that makes breathing feel a little painful. But it was cool. It was what I had imagined. And it was so amazing people watching.
But then we went back last night and frankly, prostitution makes me a little depressed. We had actually just been at a night market in the red light district before that and there, while it was bothersome, it still seemed illicit. In the neon lights and crowds of the backpacker district, watching normal looking American guys my age walk around touting their young prostitutes, I got a little down about it.
On a happier note though, Bangkok has these awesome little contraptions they call tuk tuks. They're like a glorified moped with a spot that can fit three small people in the back. The three of us fit, but not well. We rode in four of them yesterday and each driver seemed a little crazier than the last - this included drivers offering us "ping pong show" (this is a sex show. or sex. The derivation of this name is more than a little disturbing.), taking us to random jewelry shops we didn't ask for in hopes we'd buy stuff, and then finally, at the end of the night, driving around curves at about 80 miles an hour while laughing this crazy laugh and shaking his head like a maniac. I like the tuk tuks. I may be alone in our group in this sentiment.
Now, I am a person who becomes both hot and cold fairly easily. If we're going to be honest, I'd prefer 75 sunny and breezy all of the time because really I can get a little worked up over the weather. I'd say it's the most high maintenance part about me. Bangkok makes every other time I've complained of heat look like a cool day. This city is so steamy, still and excrutiatingly hot that it's actually hard to focus on much else. So, at the end of the day everything kind of feels like a painful dream that involved sweat dripping in your eyes and you desperately seeking an air conditioned 7 Eleven. That makes Bangkok seem crazy.
But that's not it completely. There is an area - and actually even just one road- in this city that pretty much epitomizes what I imagined for backpacker culture in southeast asia. There, you can purchase tatoos, women, drugs and drink. All at relatively cheap prices apparently. And it is PACKED with westerners - most of them looking like they've been there a few weeks to long and all of them sweating. For those who want to fit in, but aren't keen on drugs and odd STDs, there is plenty of henna, hair braiding and hippie looking apparel for sale.
The first time we went to the street I actually really liked it. I don't know why. It was about a million degrees and it was that kind of heat that makes breathing feel a little painful. But it was cool. It was what I had imagined. And it was so amazing people watching.
But then we went back last night and frankly, prostitution makes me a little depressed. We had actually just been at a night market in the red light district before that and there, while it was bothersome, it still seemed illicit. In the neon lights and crowds of the backpacker district, watching normal looking American guys my age walk around touting their young prostitutes, I got a little down about it.
On a happier note though, Bangkok has these awesome little contraptions they call tuk tuks. They're like a glorified moped with a spot that can fit three small people in the back. The three of us fit, but not well. We rode in four of them yesterday and each driver seemed a little crazier than the last - this included drivers offering us "ping pong show" (this is a sex show. or sex. The derivation of this name is more than a little disturbing.), taking us to random jewelry shops we didn't ask for in hopes we'd buy stuff, and then finally, at the end of the night, driving around curves at about 80 miles an hour while laughing this crazy laugh and shaking his head like a maniac. I like the tuk tuks. I may be alone in our group in this sentiment.
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