Why I love Chiang Mai - part 1

I've spent the last 12 days floating as if on a cloud, down the streets of Chiang Mai, past my favourite hole-in-the-wall neighbourhood eateries, delighted to be back. Why do I love this city so much? Is it perhaps because it doesn't feel at all like a city and yet offers everything I could possibly need around me to be happy? well, except for my beloved family and close friends, who I wish I could tele-transport here. What are you all waiting for???!!!

Coming back to WaLai Guesthouse has been a real treat. Little has changed; the rooms are still large and airy, I still have a view of the mountains, reception remains the buzzing meeting point for all us massage students who stay here, and the new tropical garden with canopy Aun has built out back makes for an ever peaceful stay. I live down a very peaceful neighbourhood street, or soi as they are called here, covered in trees and best of all, quiet ... except for the howling dog next door, but that just adds to the charm!

The laundry lady on the opposite sidewalk still washes my clothes for less than 1 euro, and the last time I cheked - 3 days ago - the blind massage place down the street still charges 2 euros for an hour's worth of foot massage. Bliss! I've opted to carry myself on foot or sitting atop the gear-less WaLai bicycle. That's OK, Chiang Mai is pretty flat, and what I like best about the bike is the handy little basket attached to the front, where I leave everything I'm carrying and it never gets stolen.

A new pool has opened a block away so I fit in a 40 minute swim every morning just so that I can indulge in sticky rice with my meals or the occasional excess; the other day as I walked back, wet bathing suit in hand, the neighbour had a stall out on the street selling fried bananas. I did a double take! I was not sure whether to be happy for her reading my mind, or weary of what this might do to my thighs. And so I decided to indulge - it's been almost 2 years since I was last here so surely I can forgive myself for caving in to this scrumptious treat. She gave me a bag-ful for 5 baht (10 cents) and I ravished 2 on my way up the stairs and another 3 with wet fingers while I showered - enough to feel guilty and donate the rest to the girl at reception!

I've returned to my favourite Thai stall, only 2 streets away, where a charming middle aged lady who speaks no English and laughs at every attempt I make at Thai, sells the most delicious noodle soup for only 20 Baht (40 cents). It's a chicken broth with Chinese 5 spice mix, a handful of rice noodles, some roasted strips of pork tenderloin, and another handful of bean sprouts, green beans, cabbage, spring onion and coriander. I think I've had it for dinner every day this week ... and I have no intention of stopping my newly developed trend! There's this other lady down that same street who looks like she's occupying the chimney shoot down the alley between two buildings. She whips up a storm on a wok right there, before my eyes, so not only do I know it's nice and fresh, but I get to practice my Thai cooking - visually! I don't care too much for her Pad Thai, but her stir-fried morning glory is still the best in town!

Learning

Less than two months away will mark a very important anniversary: 2 years of on-and-off travel, discovering the real meaning of work-life balance, and cementing lifetime friendships.

Early December will mark the time I met Gai, Sue and Deb in Chiang Mai and began a series of adventures I hope to be able to tell my grandchildren some day. No need to say it has been the best decision of my life. But more importantly, as time passes I realize how much this experience has enriched and fostered my imagination. I have so many business ideas and things I would love to do that each day that goes by makes me feel my life is too short to fulfill it all! But hey, one step at a time, and one foot in front of the other.

And so after a week of decadent life in Siargao and a fair share of hedonistic fun, I was invited to come to Camiguin Island and spend some time with my friend Deb and her husband Kai, the musician with the rockabilly band who will be touring Asia next year and with whom I may be singing too. Whatever happens though, coming to discover a new island in the Philippines is an experience to remember. I boarded my flight out of London thinking I would be re-visiting old spots I knew. But being flexible and open to new experiences just makes life unravel before you in fascinating ways.

Deb had warned me that Camiguin reminded her of Hawaii, in its volcanic, lush ways with colourful flowers blooming everywhere and fresh water springing from every hill. The volcanic element may make the beach black, but it gives the island a fertility that is hard to ignore. There is plenty to see and do, such as dipping in natural springs of cold or hot water that take the shape of waterfalls in lush, cave-like surroundings. One white sand bar and another marine sanctuary little off island called Mantigue make for fascinating snorkeling to rival some of the best tank dives I have experienced so far. And Calan’s true Italian restaurant serves, hands down, the best Italian sausage pizza I have ever tasted, more so out here when every once in a while one feels like a taste of home.

So today I swam alongside the coral reef wall in Mantigue island and watched as the small community’s 25 children in a shack called a school. Children learned to read in a beach-side school that could resemble a run-down garden shack in any western home. This is when I realize that westerners who claim they never learned because their teacher or the school’s facilities sucked cannot be quite true. How then would the hill tribe children of Sapa, in Northern Vietnam, who school only until the age of 12, or these island children in the Philippines learning in a one-room wooden building barely rising from the sand, without electricity or a toilet, (let alone an art or science department or a gym) be able to learn and speak more than one language fluently, or reach your heart with such beautiful smiles.

To friends, who reach out and know when to guide you back to your heart.
-

To freedom

Rum and coke in hand, with a little calamansi lemon frozen into an ice cube, finds me writing about my travels once again. To think I nearly cancelled this trip… time and thought tells me it was the fear of getting carried away again by the life of travel, of easy riding down the coast of a white island, surrounded by only sandy roads, fishermen in their wooden bangkas and the smell of Pandan fruit falling from the trees.

A week in Siargao island has enchanted me once again. Perhaps this time more because I realize that with a little bit of saving, I can buy some land and build a house eventually… or maybe even a spa and restaurant – which is missing on the island and has been a business idea on my mind for a while. The more time I spend here, the more local I feel. Yes, I wish to be part of the others who have chosen this as their seasonal home. I fear that if I do not act soon, others will take over, mass tourism will turn it into a makeshift Boracay, and the charm and magnetism will be lost. It really is a pearl in the orient one wishes to keep precious.

Billabong sponsored the surfing competition there this year, which has helped the island get massive coverage and millions worth of publicity. They have a 3-year contract so I envisage myself there this same time next year, cheering for the young 20-something year old surfers who ride the waves in style and make it look so simple, and then sharing beers and a night walk on the beach during a blackout with the older surfers, who may be overshadowed in the water by the younger guys, but have nothing to envy them when night falls. And so life goes for the traveling single female who prefers to sit in front of her computer at her leisure and share snippets of how her alternative life unravels.

To freedom
(pictures to follow)

Revisiting

Coming back. The hope and anticipation mix with expectations and the dread; that you may return and find the charm has gone, that nothing is the same, that it would have been better to keep the great memories intact. All this went through my head before getting here. And the truth is that this is not the second or third time… it is the fourth! I knew what I was coming back for. And so I put the expectations aside and honoured my true feelings and desires or wishing to come to just enjoy myself and have a good time.

Siargao is not an easy place to get to and so making it all the way over was overly challenging this time, but the reward has been ever greater and I have found I am indeed enjoying it once again. It is different, of course, because the novelty of the resort has been replaced by a very comfortable familiarity with the staff, the food and my surroundings. However, the marvel of the view, the sunsets and the way the light reflects off the water remains mesmerizing. I walk down the powdered sand beach alone… alone, without stumbling across rubbish or people. Simply. The fresh young coconut, or buko, still tastes delectably soft with that hint of natural sweetness that continues to make it such a special treat.

I am sharing a room with Gai and our other friend Deb, who recently moved to another island. It is so cool to be back together, sharing so much more than a room; reliving our travel adventures through our photos, riding together up against each other on a habal-habal extended motorbike in true Pinoy style, shaking mojitos and dancing barefoot in the sand as we roll away on a warm Siargao afternoon.

Anonymous comments

Hello everyone!

More to come!! When you comment, please leave me your name and a contact email as otherwise, how will I know who you are and how to reach you?

Anonymous commented on Minneapolis post:
"No me lo puedo creer... Tebita... Han pasado unos pocos años... Estás guapísima Mlle.
Soy aquel madrileño de la bandera de España..........."

Teba replied:
¡¡Ay qué curiosidad!! No sé quien eres...dame más pistas y dime cómo ponerme en contacto.

Minneapolis

I was very fortunate to reconnect with an old high school friend and attend her wedding in Minneapolis last month. Only a week before the terrible disaster that overcame the city with the bridge collapse, I walked the streets of Minneapolis and St. Paul, crossed the Mississippi waters and delighted in the past-times these two cities afford the newcomers on a warm summer's day. I cannot speak for the cold winters, when the many sky-walks, or bridges that connect one building or block to another, afford pedestrians some manner of protection from the -40 degree Celsius temperatures. However, on a sunny July day Minneapolis is a real treat, and a non-publicised little treasure.

Being the outdoorsy girl I am, I quickly signed up for the kayaking in one of the numerous lakes dotting Minneapolis. I loved the way they were connected by canals, giving my hesitant Mother and I - she feared I would tip the kayak - a chance to enjoy different atmospheres and touches of light over the water. We even left our kayaks on the sandy banks of one lake for a well-deserved and very refreshing dip. Who would have known, all the way up near Canada, eh!?

The Scandinavian influence in the city is notorious and evident in the many tributes to art and architecture. The bride and groom had organised a tour of the 'twin cities' and we thoroughly enjoyed guessing the price or imagining ourselves living in one of the many extraordinary mansions lining the shores of the lakes. No matter how grand the house, it is not hidden behind dark gates or thick hedges but lies open to view. In Minneapolis in particular, the shores of the lakes have been kept public purposely so that everyone can enjoy their own piece of nature. Many a cyclist or skater passed us as we approached the Mississippi river banks to see the ruins of the very famous mills, like Pillsbury or General Mills, that brought money to this city at the turn of the century. These are now being turned into trendy apartments or else recovered and turned into exhibition halls or museums of the city's heritage. Despite not being a big fan of Picasso, I thoroughly enjoyed the exhibition at the Walker Museum. It showed some works of Picasso that inspired similar art by his group of followers, and of course displayed the works of these 'other' artists who so fervently admired and based their style on this icon. Aside from the exhibition though, I must mention the awesome array of cool gift ideas available in the museum store (worth a visit on its own)! Of course, the terrace restaurant run by renowned chef Wolfgang Puk is also worth a visit alone for a mouthwatering, Asian-inspired lunch at very affordable prices, sun-drenched views of the city and the sheer pleasure of being served by very friendly staff who know what they're doing and know the menu inside-out. A couple of other buildings stand out in my memory for their appearance, style and the way in which they blend strikingly well with their surroundings. For those of you who have been to Bilbao, the Weisman Art Center building will remind you of Bilbao's Guggenheim Museum, as it was drawn up by the same architect, Frank Gehry. The other one, the Minneapolis Guthrie Theatre, is an astounding tribute to the arts, with more than 3 stages, a staggering history of award winning performances and a fascinating addition to the neighbouring old factory skyline. Here are some pictures.

And, well, you know me. No place misses a 'Teba' culinary review. In this case, we were lucky enough to feast on the quirky Hell's Kitchen's breakfast a couple of mornings. Highlights? Their toasted sausage bread - made with bison meat, spices, dried fruits and coffee - was one of those things I had to try, only to be able to comprehend what the ingredient list would taste like in my mouth. It was, indeed, a winner especially when accompanied by spoonfuls of the house chutneys and jams, which put any farmhouse preserve to shame. Their bison burger was scrumptious and although I craved a bowl of their famous Mahnomin porridge, made with native harvested wild rice, I ran out of time so there's another great reason to return!

Here are some websites for those of you who want more info on what's mentioned above:

http://www.hellskitcheninc.com/HellsKitchenMenuBreakfast.html
http://www.weisman.umn.edu
http://www.walkerart.org/index.wac
http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?t=337753

I dedicate this entry to all those living in Minneapolis who have suffered a loss in the terrible bridge collapse last month.

Time flies...

Time really does fly. I know I haven't written for yonks, and my Mac's HD died on me recently so I was a bit lost in terms of usernames and passwords. So much so I thought I'd never be able to get back into my Blog!!! Scary!

So what's up with me? I'm in Miami. Been here for 2 months now, mostly doing massage and earning some dough that way. Not seen the beach much as it has been raining, or I've been indoors stretching others' quadriceps!! I'm also trying to get some freelance translation and voice-over work so if any of you have some leads, I'd love to hear from you! I've kept writing and am proud to say I'm getting published again next month. For those who didn't see my April published article, log on to:

http://www.internationalliving.com/spain/free/03-20-07-eat.html

June's article will show up towards the end of next week on:

www.travelpostmonthly.com.

Have fun reading! I hope I'll get a couple more into Intl. Living for June as well. Well, enough of the self promotion. On to promote others! I have a friend, Alba Vales, who just published a book called:

The Ninth Glyph

It's available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Although it is a fictional story, it delves into the ever important and debate-fostering subject of destiny. Check it out! She's encouraging me to write my own book so I want to help her with her own sales too.

Have I been traveling lately? The answer is YES!! I went to Calgary recently. Have some cool pics of Lake Louise, frozen through, and my latest style design, but since my computer died on me, I am waiting to get the originals sent to me again. Hopefully, I'll be able to post some cool pics and travel tales in my next entry. For now I am just pleased I managed to remember my password and get back in here!!

Fresh Buko

Growing up, I never liked coconut; mind you, I grew up in the mountains of Spain so I could hardly taste the real thing. It was either dessicated flakes placed on cakes or desserts attempting to imitate the flavour, in a sickeningly sweet way.

My first encounter with fresh coconut was at the kidney cleanse I did in Chiang Mai. I was becoming delirious after days of no eating and drinking mostly parsely juice, when the staff brought out a dripping cold glass. It had near freezing fresh coconut water with slabs of fresh coconut floating inside. I remember feeling bliss as I put it to my mouth but then again, I was starving and delirious so anything seemingly sweet and fleshy would've felt like heaven anyway, right?

Well, my full fledged love affair and veneration of fresh coconut has happened in Siargao. The coconut trees grow all around and so, when we want a fresh one, Romeo, who works here, climbs up and picks them off from underneath the tall palms! Now I understand why the trees have these step-looking cut slabs in the trunk. They are young, smooth and green on the outside. (I learn the hairy brown ones just mean they're old). They are filled with water and the meat is smooth and delicate - sometimes like a thin film. And so we grab a knife and slice the top off. Water spurts out and we collect the overflow in a bowl to chill for later. And with a special knife we cut the insides in circles to make fresh spaghetti-looking shapes. As I look out onto the clear waters before me, and the mangroves surrounding the house, I eat fresh coconut, or buko, as it is known here. Breakfast, dessert, snack ... it is a pure and healthy indulgence I feel I cannot live without now. How lucky to be able to drink nature's juice as it was intended.

Discover Siargao

Why is it that the harder and more arduous the journey, the more rewarding it feels? Why is it we all want to feel like we've discovered a place? At some point, you want to discover a place that is isolated, hard to get to, un-beknown to mass tourism and authentic. There's a place in the Philippines called Siargao that I like to think is this way. It used to take 2 days to get there from Manila... now it takes half a day. That's still a stretch for some. However, once you've weathered the plane and boat rides, you sail slowly up the turquoise waters to the white sandy beaches, dotted with leaning palm trees and nothing but mangroves in sight. When you walk down the sandy roads, you get a glimpse of life within the small cottages made of wood planks, and tended with little flowers and coconut shells as makeshift fences. Children will run out to see who's coming and offer you a cheery "hello" and "goodbye" as you pass. As you sit out, you may see the fishermen diving for mud-crab, the tastiest island specialty, or a great surf wave beckoning you into the water. Whether you think you like fresh coconut or not, when you see the man climbing the tree to pick it for you, cutting it open and offering you a taste of nature's own, you won't think to say no, and believe me, it will taste like heaven. Then at night, you'll catch yourself hearing your breath, the silence only interrupted by the slow drift of the wind among the palm leaves above, or the faint lap-lap of the shallow waters at low tide. You'll look up and thank all your lucky stars for being alive and experiencing this beauty and peace. You'll want the clock to stop. You'll want to stay forever.

"Straya"

Sometimes when I travel, I find that I get giddy at the thought of getting to my destination. From the moment I step out of the plane I feel a rush of excitement and nervousness and the entire trip seems like an intensely short holiday speeding before my eyes. Australia, or "Straya" as it is known to the locals, was nothing like what I just described.

Since I was little I remember saying that for my honeymoon I would go to Australia. Don't ask me why, it's one of those things with a meaning I have yet to uncover. Anyway, I got here, unmarried, and certainly not anticipating bathtubs filled with rose petals, feasts to my senses or scenes in amber, being devoured in bed by my beloved! That's probably why I was not giddy on my arrival and wondered if I had flown half way around the world to encounter more of the same life left back home.

The thing is, Australia has grown on me. It's gotten under my skin slowly, with care, like sand that creeps into every last nook and cranny. And so gazing through the hot air at the stretches of eroded, dry, red stone and sand of the desert, I've asked myself: what is it about this place that has me thinking I will discover something here I cannot quite see with my naked eyes?

And so, I have experienced Australia slowly, visiting friends in places I would probably not have chosen as top destinations otherwise, and feeling all the luckier for it. I came here without a plan, without looking at the weather forecast, and without understanding the vastness and history of this massive land. For that, I ended up drowning my taste buds with the wine of the south, witnessing sea lions basking in the sun of a white beach, chancing my way into the outback in the intense red heat of the desert's summer and lulling myself to sleep under the pristine desert sky with Orion, twisted, guiding me from above. I have experienced a new found self-love and confidence, and felt more than just the hot wind caressing my body.

I would have never picked up a book on aboriginal people, their history, their demise or their art form had I not come here. I suspect I would have never understood the power and will to survive of these people, under the toughest of situations, had I not ventured into the desert and even spoken to one or two during my walks through Alice Springs. The thing is, it's not a given in Australia. Things are not thrown at you, in your face ..... you have to seek things out and learn in your own time and willingness. And if you give it long enough, you will eventually find that the people and the place really has a lot "down under" it's rugged, dry surface.

Ozzie "'roos"

Australia... land of kangaroos (and a lot of other wild fauna!). Now I thought spotting a "roo" here would be a matter of luck, a bit of a challenge, a result of taking a hidden path during a trek in the outback. As it turns out, spotting one is easier than seeing a dog on the streets back home! They are everywhere, and for the untrained eye, you think there are more cause the Wallabee looks exactly like a kangaroo, only smaller... the things you learn while you travel!

My time in Adelaide visiting my friends from University who live there was filled with running alcohol and animal spotting. Adelaide is at the heart of one of Australia's most important wine regions. So I cruised the hills in my friend's convertible car (like a right lady of leisure that I have become) doing wine tours and taking the occasional picture. I have crossed the sea on a horse drawn tram, and done a few treks to get me back in shape. However, the most spectacular adventure I have done so far has been the 2 day tour to Kangaroo Island. This island houses some of the most amazing varieties of wildlife, in their own wild habitat, that I have ever seen. Aside from the rather continuous 'roo spotting, I also walked through a eucalyptus plantation filled with koalas perched on branches above us. These fluffy hairballs were rather hard to spot amongst the trees cause they camouflage so well. But they are fascinating to look at! I have also seen small fairy penguins (as long as the bit of flesh from your elbow to your wrist) walk back from a day's worth of fishing. Most impressive of all, though, has been the walk on a white sandy beach observing sea lions at rest! No, not 3 or 4....but tens and tens of them, playing in the shore, sunbathing on the sand or simply suckling on their Mom's teets! I suppose this was the highlight of the tour because I never expected to see these animals up close when I first ventured out here.

I am now in Sydney, overlooking Cronulla beach, filled with black dots near the shore, also known as dedicated surfers! The beach is wild and surrounded by dunes; a real treat to walk down at low tide and with the nearing sunset. I'll be off trekking again soon and then to the outback. More to come. For now, I'll leave you with some pics.

German settlers

I didn't know Australia had begun as a prison ... did you? Apparently Adelaide was one of the few towns that began as , well, a normal town without the "prisoner" element, and for that they are quite proud. Many Germans came out here in the 19th century and established both the vineyards and the old towns that dot the coast line. One such place is Hahndorf, a step back into turn-of-the-century settlers land. It is your typical one road town ... everything you want to see and do is pretty much on the main "high street". There's a berry picking farm that makes some darn good jellies and preserves so that was my first port of call, bien sur! I figured I could take some back to my lovely host who has lent me her oh-so-cool convertible car to zoom around the hills while she's at work in the office. This is, indeed, the life of leisure. So I went about my business, tasting jams, buying home-made dark, german rye bread loaves, snapping at the quaint houses and feasting in a local delicacy for lunch: sausage with sauerkraut. I then zoomed off to a nearby winery for a taste of their reds, non of which amazed me and then on the off chance, tried a white pinot gris and bought 2 bottles to bring home. So there you go...that was my day, in a far flung Australian hill town that looked more like a Bavarian outpost on a very lucky sunny day than an outback setting of Crocodile Dundee. Australia sure has some quirky spots, which I do hope to visit soon. In the meantime, german sausages down under it is!

Tea Tree walks

Yesterday I went for a 3 hour, rather steep trek up to Mount Lofty, overlooking Adelaide. It also overlooks the vast wine region that lies around this coastal town. It amazes me how much wine Australia produces and how close it is to where I've landed (... chance or destiny?). When I walked those steep paths yesterday, all I could smell was tea tree oil from the surrounding tea trees. I was not sure what it was at first so I kept stopping and pulling off leaves, branches, bark and all manner of greenery form around me in the quest to figure out what on earth smelled so darn good! Eventually, I came to a trail sign indicating the surrounding trees were tea trees and it all made sense. I did eventually find the bit off the branches that smells like heaven, so I rubbed it on my hands and smelled it all the way to the top. It was so incredibly refreshing and I suppose so was the novelty of being back on my feet climbing heights, which I have discovered is one of my passions. It made me think why I never actually went off climbing or walking back home in Spain, renowned for it's trails and hikes. I guess sometimes one has to travel far (in my case VERY far) to discover things that are perfectly available back home. It's all part of the fun. Today I have woken up aching ... a rarity but I imagine after so many months of recovery and all, I was beginning to turn into hard brick.

The other side of the world

I have literally come to the other side of the planet and the thing that most shocks me is that ... it's all pretty much the same. :-)
Of course, I have been here less than 24 hours so this really is a first impression. I suppose after so much traveling, I feel like I am in a British coastal town I had not happened upon during my years living in the UK. Glenelg, Adelaide, is cute... with it's tram, it is a strange cross between a flat street in San Francisco, and a piece of Brighton beach. Looking outside the window at the houses that line the streets, I realise there's a piece of England, Holland, Austria and Denmark everywhere I look. I love the old tram that takes you from Adelaide to the coast, and at night as in the day, I have experienced for myself the friendliness of Australians. They really are laid-back, very eager to help, and strangely amused at having a Spanish visitor in town. The men are all quite charming and good looking, in a rough rugby-lad kinda way. Of course, the accent has also got something to do with it! I managed to pull a policeman on my first night out (after nearly collapsing in a queue from sleep deprivation). The shopping is also quite good here, although it is strange to find North African art and jewellery all the way out in Adelaide, of all places. It all feels strangely familiar. So after enjoying the first impressions and sights, attempting to catch up with the jet lag and realising I had only achieved 10 hours sleep in the last 4 days, I succumbed mid-day yesterday to what I thought would be a small afternoon nap, and woke up today at 9 AM!!! I think that's if for the jet lag. I am in synch with local time, feeling Australian and ready to go explore the outback!

Water

How did I survive so many hours of flying? The truth is it was all much more bearable than I expected. And the secret is in the water. I have been flying for many years now, and have already done 13 hour flights before. I have read innumerable times how important drinking water and moisturising your skin is, but I suppose I never realised just what a difference it makes if done properly. Note, this also requires an aisle seat for free toilet access every 20 minutes. Down a bottle of water on the hour, every hour of flight has become my rule. This and moisturising so I don't feel like Hulk breaking out of my dry skin has made the flying bearable.

There is little cure for the jet-lag though. I arrived in Singapore at 2 AM local time and could not, for the life of me, fall asleep, despite it being dark out and not having gotten any sleep in flight. I suppose the excitement of being on the go again, of arriving somewhere new in Asia and of my next day's ongoing journey to Australia kept me awake, emailing off my computer until 5AM when I succumbed to 4 hours sleep before waking up again to daylight. I went for a walk on the beach, and a quick, cheap and cheerful eyebrow shaping and lip hair waxing treatment at the salon across the street. I think I've discovered a little ritual of mine: to sample the local grooming services of every country I visit (remember Vietnam?) or maybe this hairy ape just cannot go without it for more than 3 weeks! Anyway, feeling lighter already, I went for sampling of the local food and a much needed foot massage. Ahhh, the joys of inexpensive indulgence. I discovered my kidney point was quite painful (maybe I had overworked it with so much water) and well, mostly my entire body was in pain, so I went off for a 2 hour nap before grabbing my bags and heading out to the airport once again.

Air Time

I have been traveling for 3 days on an airplane. What sort of crazed human being agrees to this anyway? The funniest thing is, I seem to have only lived through 2 of those 3 days... there are 24 hours in there where I guess I went missing cause I crossed the date-line, time-line, whatever-line somewhere in the Pacific and disappeared for a while. (Man, this diet really works!) Anyway, I don't think I have ever stepped foot on so many countries and cities within the space of 72 hours; Detroit, Tokyo, Singapore, Perth, Adelaide ... and done so little. Highlights? here they go:

Spent 15 minutes waiting for a toilet in Detroit airport. I think the woman was scrubbing away dead skin cells in there while I prayed not to pee in my pants. It was disabled toilet I was waiting for because I was in a wheelchair myself. Meanwhile, I observed the overhead electric train that runs from one end of the terminal building to the other overhead. Now, why have I only seen this in Detroit?

The flight to Tokyo was on a jumbo jet, those once awe-inspiring machines, (with their twirling stairwell up into 1st class) now tatty and obsolete, at least in the face of the new Airbus 300 series with their freaky silence, power outlets in every seat (remember I am sitting in economy), individual screens with on-demand entertainment, comfy seats with the tilting head-rest sides to hold the ever-snoozing head, halogen slow-on, slow-off reading lights, superbly clean and flashy toilets... I got to fly on the A-300 for the first time on a flight from Madrid to Miami and actually saw how the airplane took off because it's tail had a camera transmitting the view into the screen before me. That was pretty cool. Anyway, back to the jumbo jet. I sat next to a Detroit couple who were on their way to China to adopt a baby girl. It had been a very tough 2 years for them and they could not believe the moment had come. I don't normally talk much when I fly but the girl, Laurie, seemed eager and provided good conversation. Amongst her parenting books and magazines I also spotted the 2 latest "People" magazines, which reminded me I had not purchased any gossip entertainment before boarding this 13 hour flight. I did have my computer, 5 books, my iPod and 3 movies aboard the flight, but in my mind all I wanted now was to shuffle through the mags so began devising ways in which to ask to borrow them politely. This is what long air travel does to you .. well, does to me. I seem to hoard entertainment options and then never do half what I intend to accomplish in flight. I suppose it is the survival of boredom instinct, particularly when 2 of the 3 movies on board you've already seen and the coach section does not supply power outlets for you to juice up your computer. I did eventually ask one of the crew if they could find me a power outlet in one of the 3 empty business class seats. A quick aside here - what is up with not upgrading people into these empty spots? I mean, even if just for the look of sheer gratitude and joy on their faces, and to know you will have made that person's day, and possibly a devoted future frequent flyer? Anyway, I got a very nice crew who actually did find me the plug (in spite of the Pursar's disagreement) and together with my neighbour voluntarily offering me the People magazines, I became a happy camper.

I landed in Japan with subdued excitement, nothing like what I thought I would feel back in 1996 had I gotten the scholarship for my semester abroad over there as part of my Japanese degree. I began thinking of the underlying reasons why I still had not gotten out to Japan this year given my personal history with the country and it's language. And thoughts of entering the JET teaching programme entered my mind for the umpteenth time. Part of me realises I am no longer fluent in this language, like I once was, and facing and owning up to the lack of follow-through after so many years of effort is somewhat difficult to come to terms with. I did manage to have a brief exchange with the ladies at the duty free whilst asking about some souvenir sweets to take to my hosts in Australia. The flight was promptly boarded just as I began kicking myself for how many things I no longer remembered how to say. And so, off another 7 hours to Singapore, where I would thankfully get a good night's sleep on a flat surface (at this point, any flat surface would do).

The adventure continues....

For those of you who doubted whether I'd ever get my butt off my family's comfy sofas and hit the road again... I got news for ya! I am off again!!!! There will be new lands to explore and old ones to re-visit. The money is starting to run out and yet, money comes and goes so one better spend it wisely... or decadently... or on a whim. For me, this time of my life means spending it in all the above mentioned ways and more! I have to mention I bid for my flight online ... and won!! I got a pretty sweet deal from www.skyauction.com. Hoping it is not a complete scam, I should be making it out to Singapore by Jan 18th and then jumping on another flight to Australia the following day. I will miss a much desired stopover in Tokyo, but maybe when the coffers are a bit fuller (or I get sent off to update Japan's Lonely Planet issue) I will return. As for New Zealand, I have promised to make that a trip in itself with a deserved 6-8 weeks MINIMUM. I will pass by my beloved Chiang Mai for a few days and then return to the Philippines... and see whether I can make a living there at all. Wish me luck and please keep reading the blog!

kid's joy!

My Mom has been planning this holiday for over 2 years now; to take my 5 year old nephew to Disney World. My parents took me there when I was 6 and despite what people may say, I do remember many things (that are not sparked memories from photographs!). I remembered it being an assault on my senses, an unbearable excitement, a dream I never wanted to wake up from! Much has happened in the last 30 years and many other more modern parks have opened up around the globe. However, Disney maintains a certain charm even for adults (despite many rides being a bit dated). This year, just watching my nephew's eyes light up in joy, amazement and surprise made it all worth it again. I've attached a picture so you can see what I mean! Oh.... and of course, me being unemployed and all that, and traveling with what my parents call "jeta-credit" (i.e. they pay for it all) made the experience even more sublime! Thanks Mom & Dad for a great New Year's gift!!