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Sunday, April 8, 2012
Cambodia: A Love (or Lack Thereof) Story
Inquiring minds want to know...what lies ahead for James and I? It's likely quite clear by now... James either wasn't interested in beginning a relationship at all, or he wasn't interested in beginning one with me. We talked a couple of times about what was going on between us. I had trouble knowing if he even liked me or not, let alone if he had any interest in me as a potential partner.
He said he liked me, thought I was great/amazing, etc. but just "wasn't into public displays of affection." Mind you, I wasn't looking to make out in public - I'm not into that either. I would have liked to make out more in private though. And in public, I'd like my someone to reach for my hand, to take my picture without me looking when it was a good or cute one, to put an arm around me, to look me in the eye and say, "Happy Birthday Baby", to prefer my company over a Facebook group on the iPhone, to tell me I look pretty, to rub my shoulders, and have me know - for sure - that I'm liked, loved, wanted, needed, and cared for. I deserve that, all of that, and more.
Now I'm not saying I was hoping James was the one. I was just hoping for a good time together and if more developed between us, fabulous. In the end, much fun was had, and I did fall in love......with Cambodia :-)
He said he liked me, thought I was great/amazing, etc. but just "wasn't into public displays of affection." Mind you, I wasn't looking to make out in public - I'm not into that either. I would have liked to make out more in private though. And in public, I'd like my someone to reach for my hand, to take my picture without me looking when it was a good or cute one, to put an arm around me, to look me in the eye and say, "Happy Birthday Baby", to prefer my company over a Facebook group on the iPhone, to tell me I look pretty, to rub my shoulders, and have me know - for sure - that I'm liked, loved, wanted, needed, and cared for. I deserve that, all of that, and more.
Now I'm not saying I was hoping James was the one. I was just hoping for a good time together and if more developed between us, fabulous. In the end, much fun was had, and I did fall in love......with Cambodia :-)
Floating Village & Saying Goodbye
After visiting the overgrown temple, Beng Mealea, we decided to continue on for the afternoon to visit a fishing village, then a floating village. It was extra time in the heat and extra money, but I'm so glad we went to see a bit of life outside the cities.
The heat and humidity is stifling, and it seemed everywhere people were working through it. We seemed to be welcomed as most smiled at us. I got more opportunities to bond with folks as they pointed at my leg, and I simply said: "Moto". "Ahhhhhh" was always the response.
I took a few pictures with the kids, and always showed them the screen for endless giggling.
We made our way to a boat, and started down the river toward the floating village - a community of mostly Vietnamese who simply live on the lake. Presumably they came during the war and never went back. The government just overlooks it. I can't imagine what day-to-day life would be like out there. Sheesh, with the heat and the murky water, I don't know how they stand it.
As always, people are very enterprising and industrious. We saw a boat delivering groceries, and another, a mobile coffee shop of sorts. She paddled over and served up several *delicious* iced Vietnamese coffees. We tried not to fuss over where the ice came from, and just enjoyed our sweet condensed milk and coffee goodness.
After a very long day of touring, James and I headed back for the evening. In the morning we'd be boarding a bus to Phnom Penh and our last night together.
Back in the big city, we checked in to a lovely hotel as a special treat. We took care of some essentials....hair cut on the side of the street for James, mani/pedis for us both, and some last minute shopping. I was definitely starting to get mopey. I wasn't ready to leave! Thought it felt like I'd been there for a while already, it also seemed like I was just settling in.
We had a pleasant dinner and made a quick stop at the famed bar, "Heart of Darkness". Sadly, there was no salaciousness to report.
The morning brought a sweetness from James I had been looking for all along. But alas, it was time to say goodbye.
The heat and humidity is stifling, and it seemed everywhere people were working through it. We seemed to be welcomed as most smiled at us. I got more opportunities to bond with folks as they pointed at my leg, and I simply said: "Moto". "Ahhhhhh" was always the response.
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| Putting poisonous fish on sticks: all-day-long-every-day. | We practiced her smile first. |
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| Lakehouse! |
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| Authentic Vietnamese Coffee, delivered. |
As always, people are very enterprising and industrious. We saw a boat delivering groceries, and another, a mobile coffee shop of sorts. She paddled over and served up several *delicious* iced Vietnamese coffees. We tried not to fuss over where the ice came from, and just enjoyed our sweet condensed milk and coffee goodness.
After a very long day of touring, James and I headed back for the evening. In the morning we'd be boarding a bus to Phnom Penh and our last night together.
Back in the big city, we checked in to a lovely hotel as a special treat. We took care of some essentials....hair cut on the side of the street for James, mani/pedis for us both, and some last minute shopping. I was definitely starting to get mopey. I wasn't ready to leave! Thought it felt like I'd been there for a while already, it also seemed like I was just settling in.
We had a pleasant dinner and made a quick stop at the famed bar, "Heart of Darkness". Sadly, there was no salaciousness to report.
The morning brought a sweetness from James I had been looking for all along. But alas, it was time to say goodbye.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
On Ruins and History
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| Looking up at the main temple. |
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| Look at how 3D it is! |
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| There were tons of these crazy long hallways. |
Probably my favorite temple was the Bayon temple - the one with all the faces. Roughly 216 if you're countin.
But to get your Indiana Jones on, you have to visit Beng Mealea - a temple 77k from Siem Reap. It is overgrown with jungle and toppled over in places as it was used as stronghold in a war (Vietnam?) If you're daring you can hop around the boulders and amuse the Japanese tourists who are taking your picture. :-)
Our guide was great - telling us all about the history of the structures, the stories depicted on the walls, pointing out good photo ops, and being ever concerned with my wounded leg.
My disgust with the human race was hard to ignore, though, as most of the statues we saw were either headless, or fakes in an attempt to dissuade people from taking the heads. One was removed even a week before, as our guide had seen it the last time he was there! "Is there not security at night?" I asked. "Oh yes, there is security. But it was probably one of them." Bleh. Other damage was inflicted by the good ole U S of A during the Vietnam war, as we littered Cambodia with bombs from the sky. Why? Why? Why????
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| Bayon Temple - 4 of ~216 faces | Indiana, this is Beng Mealea. |
Angkor Wat
Beng Mealea
Bayon
Friday, March 30, 2012
Into the Belly of the Beast
With a few doses of antibiotics in me, some proper ointment and bandaging, I was starting to feel better. The woman at the pharmacy warned, "you must not swim; it is very bad for you to go into the ocean." "um, OK...too late." Tylenol with codeine was also starting to help the matter considerably.
We had a couple of hours to kill before our flight to Siem Reap, so I suggested pizza and a movie. There is a brilliant establishment (of questionable legality I realize) where you choose a movie or TV series from a selection of thousands, snuggle up in a private room with AC, and have pizza and beer delivered! Perfect...just what the doctor ordered.
Then we were off by tuk-tuk to the airport, opting to fly instead of wasting a whole day on a bus back through Phnom Penh and North to Siem Reap. Siem Reap is the home of Angkor Wat, the world famous Buddhist Temple ruins in phenomenal condition. Hundreds of thousands if not millions flock here every year, and it's growing exponentially as Cambodia creeps onto "Top Destinations" lists and into travel magazines. The result is a city near solely dedicated to tourists and all the cliches that go along with one.
We had booked a room for the week at the Seven Candles guesthouse, a family owned establishment supporting education and youth development. We liked it immediately.
In the morning at 0630, we were to be picked up by a tuk tuk driver and tour guide, for a private two-day tour of many of the temple ruins. I was VERY worried about my leg. While walking for at least a few hours was relatively pain-free, stopping and standing was torturous. Know what you do on guided tours? You walk all day, and stand still to listen to your guide and take pictures. Shit.
The first two Tylenol with Codeine didn't do much, so I took another two, really wanting to be as functional as possible for all our sakes. Sadly, with the heat of the day coming on in full force, my stomach VETOED that idea. Lunch only seemed to make it worse, and I finally had to admit that I couldn't go on. I insisted James continue the tour, and I returned to the room to rest and recuperate. Later, I went to another pharmacy and asked for pain killers without all the acetaminophen. What a blessed place to be able to ask for whatever you need. :-)
The next morning, our pickup was at 0500, in an effort to make Angkor Wat for the sunrise. We joined the throngs of tourists, primarily Chinese and Japanese, and paid $2 each for awful coffee for the privilege of sitting on a mat. In my opinion, sunrises are usually never much to write home about, so we took the required pictures and set off to explore the temple. With my new medicine, I was thankfully doing MUCH better, so I was able to be a proper tourist listening to our guide and snapping photos.
Around 9am, we ducked out of the approaching heat of the day and avoided the THRONGS of tourists arriving at the temple complex. If I had to guess I'd say somewhere between 50-100 full size buses - and it's a shoulder season!
Later, around 3pm, we resumed our tour of Preah Khan, Angkor Thom, and Bayon Temple - all in the Angkor Wat vicinity.
The following day we would inch off the beaten path to Beng Lealea, about 75k from Angkor Wat with a visit to a Floating Village.
Temple post to follow...stay tuned.
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| Brilliant Business Model! |
Then we were off by tuk-tuk to the airport, opting to fly instead of wasting a whole day on a bus back through Phnom Penh and North to Siem Reap. Siem Reap is the home of Angkor Wat, the world famous Buddhist Temple ruins in phenomenal condition. Hundreds of thousands if not millions flock here every year, and it's growing exponentially as Cambodia creeps onto "Top Destinations" lists and into travel magazines. The result is a city near solely dedicated to tourists and all the cliches that go along with one.
We had booked a room for the week at the Seven Candles guesthouse, a family owned establishment supporting education and youth development. We liked it immediately.
In the morning at 0630, we were to be picked up by a tuk tuk driver and tour guide, for a private two-day tour of many of the temple ruins. I was VERY worried about my leg. While walking for at least a few hours was relatively pain-free, stopping and standing was torturous. Know what you do on guided tours? You walk all day, and stand still to listen to your guide and take pictures. Shit.
The first two Tylenol with Codeine didn't do much, so I took another two, really wanting to be as functional as possible for all our sakes. Sadly, with the heat of the day coming on in full force, my stomach VETOED that idea. Lunch only seemed to make it worse, and I finally had to admit that I couldn't go on. I insisted James continue the tour, and I returned to the room to rest and recuperate. Later, I went to another pharmacy and asked for pain killers without all the acetaminophen. What a blessed place to be able to ask for whatever you need. :-)
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| Angkor Wat at Sunrise |
Around 9am, we ducked out of the approaching heat of the day and avoided the THRONGS of tourists arriving at the temple complex. If I had to guess I'd say somewhere between 50-100 full size buses - and it's a shoulder season!
Later, around 3pm, we resumed our tour of Preah Khan, Angkor Thom, and Bayon Temple - all in the Angkor Wat vicinity.
The following day we would inch off the beaten path to Beng Lealea, about 75k from Angkor Wat with a visit to a Floating Village.
Temple post to follow...stay tuned.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Dirty Diving and Dirty Beats
Sunday we had booked a day trip out to the closer island group with a different dive company. My wounds at this point were looking pretty bad, but I figured another few hours wouldn't kill me.
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| Moto Ouwie: Day 3 | Dog Ouwie |
The Koh Rong group is now protected from fishing, so the sea life there is recovering. Sadly, the visibility was horrible - 2-3m (6-9ft) - ick! There was a fair bit of current too, so we had to pay a lot more attention than the previous 2 days. There was more active life though...including 3 massive barracudas - perhaps 5-6ft long. Wow!
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I really appreciated the dive company's ethic - encouraging reef cleanup and sustainable living (ie: no water bottles distributed; bring your own). The staff was all very nice and let me raid their first aid kit before the trip home.
Later, back in Sihanoukville, James and I turned up at the big backpacker club in town where he was booked to DJ for the night. The young crowd was all fairly spent from the previous Saturday Night St. Paddy's Day bash, so folks were just chillin. James is a great DJ, and spins music I really like (dirty electro), so in an effort to encourage more dancing I spent some time on the dance floor...with a long dress I was able to mask the fact that I was mostly shuffling on one foot.
By 1am, we were both spent, and despite pleas to stay from the hyper kids who rolled in at 12, we headed back to our hotel. James was asleep in minutes.
Under the Sea, or 'Gulf' as it Was
James and I had booked an overnight liveaboard dive trip in order to get out to the reportedly stunning Koh Prins Island, a 6 hour boat trip. James had become a scuba diving fiend on his trip, having accumulated nearly 100 dives thus far with a goal of 400 by August. I began diving about 10 years ago getting my Divemaster license in 2002. The Bay Area, while having some of the best diving in the world, isn't particularly comfortable with 49 degree water, so I don't get out much :-) I was really looking forward to diving with a comparable skill-level buddy.
The rest of our boat was full with a group of Russian tourists, very Russian. After hobbling between the upper and lower decks a few times trying to evade cigarette smoke, I finally asked for a no-smoking zone. They weren't too pleased with me after that.
After a very long, slow trip, we arrived to see crystal clear turquoise blue water. Lovely. James and I would have a divemaster to ourselves - the Russians were doing their own thing. Awesome. The salt water stung, a lot, but the water was so deliciously warm and clear...I deluded myself into thinking this was OK to do.
Down we went into a glorious underwater world. The visibility was outstanding, perhaps 20-25m (60-75ft). It'd been 1.5 years since my last dive, but for me it's like riding a bike, so off we went.
Our 4 day dives that day and the next were all mostly the same - super vis, super warm, light to moderate current, gorgeous coral, and not a whole lot of fish. James' air consumption is very good for his size, so all of our dives were at least 60 minutes. (Mine is ridiculous - I usually only go through 1/2 a tank, hitting my table limits long before I even get close to running low on air.) When I'm on dives without large distances to cover, I like to take off my fins for the last ~10 minutes or so. I feel more connected and "one with the ocean" that way. On 2 of 4 I had them off for ~30 minutes each. FUN!!
Our night dive was fabulous as well with excellent visibility, nice and
warm, and we got to see several of the strange creatures that like to
come out at night.
The lack of fish is due to indiscriminate fishing by the Cambodians and Vietnamese...we watched a Cambodian fisherman pick up a live baby shark and bang its head on the deck of a boat before handing it over to the cook on ours. :-( The Cambodians are reportedly better than the Vietnamese, though, who continue to fish with explosives.
So, all in all, these few dives were some of the best I'd ever done, save for the lack of fish. James is an excellent diver, so I never had to worry about him. All the gear was in perfect shape, and the conditions were about as stress-free as you can get. The only nagging item was my worsening leg...stinging like hell for the first half of each dive, and aching for the last half. Swimming was preferable to walking, though; walking was murder.
We were at the 1/2 way mark of our trip. I spent some of our peaceful dive time thinking about "us" (I am a girl, afterall). James was taking my injury in stride and being very kind and helpful which I was thankful for, but even before I was hurt and continuing after it felt I was more of a buddy than a romantic interest. And he seemed more preoccupied with his own agenda, beit his travel plans or conversations, iphone, computer or other whims. He was showing very little interest in me physically as well. Now, I would have been perfectly fine with just being friends if that was what it was. But he kept verbally indicating his interest. So I was very confused, feeling more ignored the more I thought about it. He hadn't even directly said 'Happy Birthday', let along give me a little sweet hug or kiss. I wondered if my bum luck had put him off, and it was hard not to be down on myself for it.
In the spirit of open communication, I decided to tell him I could do with a little more affection. I said I knew the whole thing was just a temporary/make-believe relationship, but if it was possible and in his character to do so, I'd like to turn the dial up. He said he appreciated my openness and said OK.
On Saturday afternoon we turned the boat around and headed for shore. 3 big, beautiful bottlenose dolphins wished us well.
The rest of our boat was full with a group of Russian tourists, very Russian. After hobbling between the upper and lower decks a few times trying to evade cigarette smoke, I finally asked for a no-smoking zone. They weren't too pleased with me after that.
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| Welcome to Paradise |
Down we went into a glorious underwater world. The visibility was outstanding, perhaps 20-25m (60-75ft). It'd been 1.5 years since my last dive, but for me it's like riding a bike, so off we went.
Our 4 day dives that day and the next were all mostly the same - super vis, super warm, light to moderate current, gorgeous coral, and not a whole lot of fish. James' air consumption is very good for his size, so all of our dives were at least 60 minutes. (Mine is ridiculous - I usually only go through 1/2 a tank, hitting my table limits long before I even get close to running low on air.) When I'm on dives without large distances to cover, I like to take off my fins for the last ~10 minutes or so. I feel more connected and "one with the ocean" that way. On 2 of 4 I had them off for ~30 minutes each. FUN!!
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| Sunset over Koh Prins |
The lack of fish is due to indiscriminate fishing by the Cambodians and Vietnamese...we watched a Cambodian fisherman pick up a live baby shark and bang its head on the deck of a boat before handing it over to the cook on ours. :-( The Cambodians are reportedly better than the Vietnamese, though, who continue to fish with explosives.
So, all in all, these few dives were some of the best I'd ever done, save for the lack of fish. James is an excellent diver, so I never had to worry about him. All the gear was in perfect shape, and the conditions were about as stress-free as you can get. The only nagging item was my worsening leg...stinging like hell for the first half of each dive, and aching for the last half. Swimming was preferable to walking, though; walking was murder.
We were at the 1/2 way mark of our trip. I spent some of our peaceful dive time thinking about "us" (I am a girl, afterall). James was taking my injury in stride and being very kind and helpful which I was thankful for, but even before I was hurt and continuing after it felt I was more of a buddy than a romantic interest. And he seemed more preoccupied with his own agenda, beit his travel plans or conversations, iphone, computer or other whims. He was showing very little interest in me physically as well. Now, I would have been perfectly fine with just being friends if that was what it was. But he kept verbally indicating his interest. So I was very confused, feeling more ignored the more I thought about it. He hadn't even directly said 'Happy Birthday', let along give me a little sweet hug or kiss. I wondered if my bum luck had put him off, and it was hard not to be down on myself for it.
In the spirit of open communication, I decided to tell him I could do with a little more affection. I said I knew the whole thing was just a temporary/make-believe relationship, but if it was possible and in his character to do so, I'd like to turn the dial up. He said he appreciated my openness and said OK.
On Saturday afternoon we turned the boat around and headed for shore. 3 big, beautiful bottlenose dolphins wished us well.
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| 2 Dolphins, mid frame |
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Happy Birthday
Sihanoukville is a bustling city with a stretch of beach dedicated to tourists and a large business center for everyone else. James and I share a desire and need to avoid the Spring-Breaky, cheap booze guzzling and drunken backpackery types, so off we went to an area called Otres Beach, about 10 minutes by tuk-tuk out of town. We had chosen "Cindarellas Bungalows" upon several positive internet recommendations, and we were definitely not disappointed. For I think ~$8, we got a "boathouse" - a hut built up on a hull of a small boat that only had room for a comfy queen bed, a mosquito net hanging above it, and small table with a gloriously welcome fan. A 2.5 foot "porch" looked out onto the water, and down a small ladder we stepped onto beach sand. Fan-freaking-tastic.
Being in a shoulder season, we were the only guests, but down the beach there were a few other very casual beachside restaurants and guesthouses with like-minded travellers. We had an awesome dinner and popped into the Gulf of Thailand outside our "bedroom door" for some warm nightswimming and star gazing. We couldn't be bothered with suits. :-)
Now that I was feeling better, I hoped James would take advantage of our romantic setting. Back in PP, we had gotten off to a promising start of getting to know each other in such a fashion. The humidity left us pretty sticky though, and it had been a long day........I guess......
The dawn brought my birthday! 33! Whoohoo! I was all smiles of course, and on Cloud 9 with our little private beach. James must have forgotten, though I had mentioned it a few times previously. He was anxious to get into town to sort out his visa for Vietnam; he didn't say anything.
We buzzed around on the moto running our errands. He easily obtained his visa - when filling out his application he asked the date. M-A-R-C-H F-I-F-T-E-E-N-T-H I said. Nothing. At this point I began wondering how long I should let this go on...If I let it go all day, I knew I'd be in an awful mood. When we'd gotten all of our (his) chores out of the way, we decided on a bit of pampering and stopped at a spa for a massage. When perusing the "menu" of services the lady asked if we wanted this or that. "Well, it is my birthday afterall" I said...to which she replied "Oohhhhh, Happy Birthday!" James just said, "thereya go." We splurged on 1 hour full body deep tissue and 30 minute foot massages; I quite enjoyed mine...comparable to a good massage in the states. The bill for us BOTH? $27. James got it...for my birthday.
A bit earlier we decided I should get some moto practice in. It'd been years since my motorcycle safety course back home. I buzzed around briefly on my own, then James hopped on the back...but not side saddle though :-) My shifting was a bit shaky at first, but I got the hang of it. I did several quick trips...oh the looks we were getting with James on the rear! Out on the open road on the way back to Otres I was having a blast. The black top turned to dirt/sand but it was packed down so it was OK, though terribly bumpy with lots of holes and mounds to avoid. A bit before our guesthouse there was a detour in the road - it went down a steep hill, around a sandy bit, and up the same hill on the other side. It had given James trouble the first few times he'd done it. He asked if I wanted to try. "Sure." "OK, I'm going to walk, though." he replied.
I turned the throttle, and between the lack of weight I'd gotten used to on the back, and the mound of sand my back tire was on, the bike skidded out of the side and toppled over, pinning my left side down. I'm sure only seconds passed. I realized my right leg was hurting, so I picked it up. Still confused, I let it down again. Finally my always sarcastic and snooty inner voice said, "Jennifer, taking your damn hand off the throttle." I put my right hand into the air, and James helped to right the bike. I hopped off and looked down at my right leg. "Holy shit." ...... Literally.
There were two obvious injuries, both the size of a lemon. The lower one appeared to be a patch of missing skin, perhaps from the spinning tire. It wasn't bleeding at all - bad sign - it meant SEVERAL layers were missing. The upper one had already blistered up - obviously an exhaust pipe burn, and a bad one...perhaps 2nd degree. I didn't really feel it till it was over, and at most the whole incident took 30 seconds. James rode the bike through the detour and I hopped back on the back to get home.
I'm good at crises - in fact I take pride in how good I am in crisis situations. I cleaned the wounds, though it was extremely painful. I decided to take a swim in the ocean - salt water is often therapeutic. I asked for a head start though, so I could whimper in peace.
After our dip I emphatically declared that I would need to drive the moto again that night, if only just a few meters. I'm a firm believer in the 'get back on the horse' mentality, and I wasn't going to let this incident change that. And, for goodness sakes, it was my freakin Birthday, so I wanted a fun dinner. We went back to the same restaurant from the night before as their red curry was divine. After it was dark, one of the staff came and asked us to bring our moto inside where it'd be safer. As I'd driven it there, and not wanting to feel useless, I said I'd do it when James asked.
I started limping out, along a dark path. Then, all of a sudden, there was an angry growl, a burst of black fur, and a sharp shooting pain through my right leg. Yep. A black dog on an unlit path bit my already severely injured leg when I accidentally shuffled onto its foot. I was wearing loose pants, so thankfully its teeth didn't come into contact with my skin. But it gave me a solid chomp. I let out a howl and hopped around. All the staff rushed over and helped me to a chair, horrified at what had happened. Another guest offered medical assistance as a trained first responder. James must not have heard the ruckus. I asked for some ice - the 4 punctures (is it considered a puncture when the skin isn't completely broken?) were already swelling and bruising. When they saw the other side of my calf, though, they flipped. One girl ran to get a stalk of fresh aloe for me and the rest just made a lot of 'ooohhh', 'oowwww', and 'ssssorrryyy' gestures. I had to chuckle though - 2 people pulled up their pant legs to show me their own egg-shaped moto scars.
After what seemed like forever, James came over and saw everyone gathered around me.
Me: "I am DONE with today.
Him: "What happened?"
Me: "I got bit by a dog."
Him: "WHAT?!!?"
Me: "Ya, can we go home now?"
Back at our hut, I took more anti-inflammatories and poured some moonshine (another story) on my new wounds. The moto ones didn't seem *that* bad. The lower tire one was several layers of skin missing - I mean noticeably gone compared to the rest of the skin around it. The upper burn one had blistered and was just really really red.
Happy Birthday to me.
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| "Boathouse" on Otres Beach |
Being in a shoulder season, we were the only guests, but down the beach there were a few other very casual beachside restaurants and guesthouses with like-minded travellers. We had an awesome dinner and popped into the Gulf of Thailand outside our "bedroom door" for some warm nightswimming and star gazing. We couldn't be bothered with suits. :-)
Now that I was feeling better, I hoped James would take advantage of our romantic setting. Back in PP, we had gotten off to a promising start of getting to know each other in such a fashion. The humidity left us pretty sticky though, and it had been a long day........I guess......
The dawn brought my birthday! 33! Whoohoo! I was all smiles of course, and on Cloud 9 with our little private beach. James must have forgotten, though I had mentioned it a few times previously. He was anxious to get into town to sort out his visa for Vietnam; he didn't say anything.
We buzzed around on the moto running our errands. He easily obtained his visa - when filling out his application he asked the date. M-A-R-C-H F-I-F-T-E-E-N-T-H I said. Nothing. At this point I began wondering how long I should let this go on...If I let it go all day, I knew I'd be in an awful mood. When we'd gotten all of our (his) chores out of the way, we decided on a bit of pampering and stopped at a spa for a massage. When perusing the "menu" of services the lady asked if we wanted this or that. "Well, it is my birthday afterall" I said...to which she replied "Oohhhhh, Happy Birthday!" James just said, "thereya go." We splurged on 1 hour full body deep tissue and 30 minute foot massages; I quite enjoyed mine...comparable to a good massage in the states. The bill for us BOTH? $27. James got it...for my birthday.
I turned the throttle, and between the lack of weight I'd gotten used to on the back, and the mound of sand my back tire was on, the bike skidded out of the side and toppled over, pinning my left side down. I'm sure only seconds passed. I realized my right leg was hurting, so I picked it up. Still confused, I let it down again. Finally my always sarcastic and snooty inner voice said, "Jennifer, taking your damn hand off the throttle." I put my right hand into the air, and James helped to right the bike. I hopped off and looked down at my right leg. "Holy shit." ...... Literally.
There were two obvious injuries, both the size of a lemon. The lower one appeared to be a patch of missing skin, perhaps from the spinning tire. It wasn't bleeding at all - bad sign - it meant SEVERAL layers were missing. The upper one had already blistered up - obviously an exhaust pipe burn, and a bad one...perhaps 2nd degree. I didn't really feel it till it was over, and at most the whole incident took 30 seconds. James rode the bike through the detour and I hopped back on the back to get home.
I'm good at crises - in fact I take pride in how good I am in crisis situations. I cleaned the wounds, though it was extremely painful. I decided to take a swim in the ocean - salt water is often therapeutic. I asked for a head start though, so I could whimper in peace.
After our dip I emphatically declared that I would need to drive the moto again that night, if only just a few meters. I'm a firm believer in the 'get back on the horse' mentality, and I wasn't going to let this incident change that. And, for goodness sakes, it was my freakin Birthday, so I wanted a fun dinner. We went back to the same restaurant from the night before as their red curry was divine. After it was dark, one of the staff came and asked us to bring our moto inside where it'd be safer. As I'd driven it there, and not wanting to feel useless, I said I'd do it when James asked.
I started limping out, along a dark path. Then, all of a sudden, there was an angry growl, a burst of black fur, and a sharp shooting pain through my right leg. Yep. A black dog on an unlit path bit my already severely injured leg when I accidentally shuffled onto its foot. I was wearing loose pants, so thankfully its teeth didn't come into contact with my skin. But it gave me a solid chomp. I let out a howl and hopped around. All the staff rushed over and helped me to a chair, horrified at what had happened. Another guest offered medical assistance as a trained first responder. James must not have heard the ruckus. I asked for some ice - the 4 punctures (is it considered a puncture when the skin isn't completely broken?) were already swelling and bruising. When they saw the other side of my calf, though, they flipped. One girl ran to get a stalk of fresh aloe for me and the rest just made a lot of 'ooohhh', 'oowwww', and 'ssssorrryyy' gestures. I had to chuckle though - 2 people pulled up their pant legs to show me their own egg-shaped moto scars.
 |
| Ouwies: Day 0 |
After what seemed like forever, James came over and saw everyone gathered around me.
Me: "I am DONE with today.
Him: "What happened?"
Me: "I got bit by a dog."
Him: "WHAT?!!?"
Me: "Ya, can we go home now?"
Back at our hut, I took more anti-inflammatories and poured some moonshine (another story) on my new wounds. The moto ones didn't seem *that* bad. The lower tire one was several layers of skin missing - I mean noticeably gone compared to the rest of the skin around it. The upper burn one had blistered and was just really really red.
Happy Birthday to me.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Blasted Bummer of a Bug
At first I told myself it was the heat, though I knew that wasn't likely as I had 3.5 days to acclimate. Then I thought perhaps it was a touch of carsickness - we were certainly doing a lot of bobbing and weaving through traffic. Or could it have been my yogurt at breakfast? I asked for a bathroom break, and was met with an Asian toilet - a hole in the floor lined with tile, and next to it a trough of water with a bucket for flushing. I tinkled a bit, and decided to take my chances hobbling down to the stagnant stream to see if I was going to be sick. Um, yup.
By the time we arrived at our guesthouse in Kep an hour later, I knew something was very wrong. The remainder of my breakfast came up. Sadly, when nothing was left, my body didn't get the memo, and kept insisting I embrace the thankfully Western toilet.
James was gentle with me and kind. I joked that given our limited time together we were in an accelerated relationship...fast forwarding to that ~3 month mark when one of you is sick in front of the other.
The fan-only room (read: no AC) was unfortunate, and I laid in a weak lump on the horribly thin springy mattress for a few hours, hoping the sick would pass. Not wanting to miss out completely, I agreed to attempt venturing down to the water for sunset. The guesthouse manager offered up his moto for free, to save us an unsafe bike ride home in the dark, especially as I wasn't feeling well.
James had been honing his moto skills throughout Thailand, and I thought I'd do as the local ladies do and ride side-saddle on the back. We buzzed around town; the fresh air was nice, but no match for whatever bug had a hold of me. We quickly returned home and I slumped onto porcelain again and again.
By then we were both praying that whatever it was I had, to let it be of the 24 hour variety. I wasn't going to last much longer not being able to keep any food down.
After one helluvan uncomfortably hot, humid, and somewhat delirious night, the morning brought a bit of normalcy back to my body. I cautiously ate breakfast, and definitely felt more myself.
We decided to moto up to the Kep National Park (KNP) for some light exploring, then hop a minibus to our next stop, Sihanoukville.
On our way up the hill, we came to a seemingly empty temple complex. It was encouraged to visit, James assured me, as all Buddhist temples are for the public. There were a few residents after all, and an elderly woman beckoned me inside. She was about 4 feet tall and had the warmest toothless smile I'd ever seen. She took my hand and shuffled me to the shrine. James and I sat for a moment, and he dutifully lit the incense and gave an offering of a few cents. He whispered he'd done this hundreds of times before all throughout Thailand.
After a few minutes, our tiny hostess padded over to a bench and indicated I should sit beside her. She began rooting through a box of leaves and jars, and handed me a very hard reddish disc, about the size of a nickel. It was a dried something or other and she indicated I should eat it. I noticed her stained lips and gums and got a bit nervous. I was about 6 weeks into a year and a half of Invisalign (clear plastic molds over my teeth that act as "invisible" braces, slowly moving my teeth with new trays every 2 weeks. But eating with them in is a no-no, especially anything that may stain them). I nibbled at the teeniest bit of it, and James chomped on in... it was very hard, very bitter, but had a mildly numbing effect - almost like kava from the South Pacific. Then, the woman started spreading a white paste onto a big green leaf. She put one or two of the red discs in the leaf and wrapped it up, stuffing it into a narrow mortar, and used a pestle to grind it all up. She plopped the mash out into her hand and put the whole wad in her mouth. She was sure to show us each step. "Oh please don't offer the same concoction to me," I thought. She started gumming down on it all like a camel with cud.
A few children and their mother had come to see what all the fuss was about. I took the opportunity for a cultural exchange and dug out a few sweettarts. Oh the little girl was SO NOT HAPPY with the initial sour taste. Poor thing had a tear in her eye and desperately wanted to spit it out. Her older brother didn't bother to savor it - he just chomped down right away and found the sweet. His big grin reassured the little one, and she gave it a crunch. A good laugh was had by all.
The old woman finished her treat and spat out the now finished wad of who-knows-what. We decided it was time to go. Walking out, James said, "now that is something that has never happened to me before in all of my temple visits. I don't think they do that for any random tourist that happens on by. They must have really liked you."
We rode further up the hill and then parked the bike near a walking trail. I was very weak from a day of sick, and the heat and humidity was intensifying. We agreed on a shorter but steeper climb to the summit. Normally in very good shape, it was frustrating to be out of breath and have to move so slowly...my muscles feeling like jelly. James took off ahead of me. On one hand I was glad he didn't wait around for me for his own sake, on the other I felt a bit...... alone.
The view from the top was mildly rewarding, but we were both tired and ready to cool off and get some lunch. I was especially hungry. Again he charged ahead on the path. I wondered what would've happened if I'd fallen.
We moto-ed back down to town and headed for the famed crab market. James is a strict vegetarian, but indulged my taking the opportunity to try world-famous Kep crab. Yuuummmmmmm.
Back at the guesthouse, we packed up and chatted more with the positively delightful staff. They had been sooooo concerned when I was ill, and quite happy and talkative now that I was better. A tuk-tuk came to fetch us and it was off in a minibus to Sihanoukville, THE Cambodian beach destination.
By the time we arrived at our guesthouse in Kep an hour later, I knew something was very wrong. The remainder of my breakfast came up. Sadly, when nothing was left, my body didn't get the memo, and kept insisting I embrace the thankfully Western toilet.
James was gentle with me and kind. I joked that given our limited time together we were in an accelerated relationship...fast forwarding to that ~3 month mark when one of you is sick in front of the other.
The fan-only room (read: no AC) was unfortunate, and I laid in a weak lump on the horribly thin springy mattress for a few hours, hoping the sick would pass. Not wanting to miss out completely, I agreed to attempt venturing down to the water for sunset. The guesthouse manager offered up his moto for free, to save us an unsafe bike ride home in the dark, especially as I wasn't feeling well.
James had been honing his moto skills throughout Thailand, and I thought I'd do as the local ladies do and ride side-saddle on the back. We buzzed around town; the fresh air was nice, but no match for whatever bug had a hold of me. We quickly returned home and I slumped onto porcelain again and again.
By then we were both praying that whatever it was I had, to let it be of the 24 hour variety. I wasn't going to last much longer not being able to keep any food down.
After one helluvan uncomfortably hot, humid, and somewhat delirious night, the morning brought a bit of normalcy back to my body. I cautiously ate breakfast, and definitely felt more myself.
We decided to moto up to the Kep National Park (KNP) for some light exploring, then hop a minibus to our next stop, Sihanoukville.
On our way up the hill, we came to a seemingly empty temple complex. It was encouraged to visit, James assured me, as all Buddhist temples are for the public. There were a few residents after all, and an elderly woman beckoned me inside. She was about 4 feet tall and had the warmest toothless smile I'd ever seen. She took my hand and shuffled me to the shrine. James and I sat for a moment, and he dutifully lit the incense and gave an offering of a few cents. He whispered he'd done this hundreds of times before all throughout Thailand.
After a few minutes, our tiny hostess padded over to a bench and indicated I should sit beside her. She began rooting through a box of leaves and jars, and handed me a very hard reddish disc, about the size of a nickel. It was a dried something or other and she indicated I should eat it. I noticed her stained lips and gums and got a bit nervous. I was about 6 weeks into a year and a half of Invisalign (clear plastic molds over my teeth that act as "invisible" braces, slowly moving my teeth with new trays every 2 weeks. But eating with them in is a no-no, especially anything that may stain them). I nibbled at the teeniest bit of it, and James chomped on in... it was very hard, very bitter, but had a mildly numbing effect - almost like kava from the South Pacific. Then, the woman started spreading a white paste onto a big green leaf. She put one or two of the red discs in the leaf and wrapped it up, stuffing it into a narrow mortar, and used a pestle to grind it all up. She plopped the mash out into her hand and put the whole wad in her mouth. She was sure to show us each step. "Oh please don't offer the same concoction to me," I thought. She started gumming down on it all like a camel with cud.
A few children and their mother had come to see what all the fuss was about. I took the opportunity for a cultural exchange and dug out a few sweettarts. Oh the little girl was SO NOT HAPPY with the initial sour taste. Poor thing had a tear in her eye and desperately wanted to spit it out. Her older brother didn't bother to savor it - he just chomped down right away and found the sweet. His big grin reassured the little one, and she gave it a crunch. A good laugh was had by all.
The old woman finished her treat and spat out the now finished wad of who-knows-what. We decided it was time to go. Walking out, James said, "now that is something that has never happened to me before in all of my temple visits. I don't think they do that for any random tourist that happens on by. They must have really liked you."
We rode further up the hill and then parked the bike near a walking trail. I was very weak from a day of sick, and the heat and humidity was intensifying. We agreed on a shorter but steeper climb to the summit. Normally in very good shape, it was frustrating to be out of breath and have to move so slowly...my muscles feeling like jelly. James took off ahead of me. On one hand I was glad he didn't wait around for me for his own sake, on the other I felt a bit...... alone.
 |
| View from the top of Kep National Park |
 |
| Spicy Crab Fingers in Kep |
Back at the guesthouse, we packed up and chatted more with the positively delightful staff. They had been sooooo concerned when I was ill, and quite happy and talkative now that I was better. A tuk-tuk came to fetch us and it was off in a minibus to Sihanoukville, THE Cambodian beach destination.
Dive Right In
 |
| Rush Hour |
Imagine a large anthill disurbed, and you have the chaos of Cambodian traffic, teaming mostly with motos (motorcycles), tuk-tuks (carriages pulled by a motorcycle), a few cars, bicycles, and pedestrians. The humidity thickened the smog and dust, and I wished for a surgical mask like everyone else wore. James said I looked tired; damn, I thought I was sufficiently refreshed.
We checkin into our cute little hotel and then set out on the town. I immediately fell in love with the people - everyone soooo friendly, easily returning smiles. English was limited, however, so I knew I'd better start learning some Khmer. There is no standard Roman equivalent to the Khmer alphabet, so different websites show different spellings - eek! I jotted down the required basics in my book.
Your Khmer Lesson:
Hello - Joom Riep Su
How are you? - Sok sabai chea tay?
I am fine. - Knyom sok sabai.
Thank you (very much) - Akun (jann)
Yes - Cha (if you're a girl), Baat (if you're a guy)
No - Ahtay
Sorry - Sohm toh
Everyone's faces would light up like sunshine when I greeted them, and were even happier to help my pronunciation when I asked. James, with a head full of Thai, was grateful I picked it up so quickly.
I know you're curious about our first night together. Yes, we shared a room and a bed. And in an effort to avoid awkwardness I hopped in without any shyness. He was a gentleman, though perhaps a bit too much of one.
Our loose travel plan was to spend 3 nights in PP - to explore the city some and sort out a general itinerary for our two weeks together. We visited the Royal Palace, National Museum, a park and temple or two, and took a day trip out to the Mekong (or Silk) island, which was my personal favorite. Every single time we got into a tuk-tuk, we had to assure the driver that we did not want to visit The Killing Fields, Genocide Museum, or shoot machine guns. Neither of us were in denial of Cambodia's tragic history, but we agreed those weren't very conducive 'first date' activities, and preferred to learn more in our own way and time.
 |
| Jacline and I |
By the time we ventured out to Silk Island, my Khmer had really broadened, and the little local woman who met us at the ferry loved me for it. Jacline popped us both on the back of her moto and took us around. She introduced us to her family, working away on the loom weaving silk scarves, table cloths and more. Her 12 year old daughter gave me a quick lesson. We figured it'd take me 2 weeks to finish a table runner she could do in a day. :-) The ladies in my life are going to love the silk scarves I picked out for them. :-)
 |
| Silk Loom Lesson |
We visited "the beach" - a trash-strewn stretch of river front with little rentable huts to lounge in, and a quiet little village w/chanting monks, ceramic buddhas being made and an enchanting temple. An old man laying in his hut called out to me. I padded over and knelt near him. His wife was tending to his crippled legs. I tried the Khmer greeting, but Jacline had said they spoke a different language here. Instead we smiled at each other and nodded a lot. I got the impression he had not seen many Westerners here and was happy for the company.
On our way back to the ferry (which, by the way, was just a large floating plank of wood with an engine attached), we were enveloped by school children riding bicycles home for the day. Big smiles, enthusiastic HELLOs, waving, and giggling NEVER gets old I tell you! And our popularity sky-rocketed as soon as I broke out a roll of sweettarts to share. The initial sour taste was met with puckered lips and questioning looks, but after I mimicked biting, they crushed their way to pleasant sweetness.
After 3 days in the loud, smog-y chaotic city, James and I were more than ready to set out for the rest of the country, with our first stop to be in the famed but quiet seaside town called Kep. We arranged for a private car to save ourselves a crowded and tortuous 4 hour AC-less bus journey, a thankful decision, given the 24 hours that was to come.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Lovely Layovers
Japanese courtesy shines through in Narita International Airport (Tokyo). I was super stressed about only having 55 minutes for a connection, reading that I head to go through security. When the baby demon flight was ~15 min late, I got even more nervous. I've totally done the airport run before ... everyone has, so I got psyched for it, but upon arrival they announced my Singapore flight was delayed 2 hours. Whew, ok.
When I got off the plane, I had to chuckle...#1, agents met us at the gate, profusely apologizing for the 2 hour delay and offering meal vouchers worth ~$20. #2, security was literally around the corner from our gate. #3, there was no off-with-the-shoes or jacket. And oops, I still had water in my bottle. An agent says, "is it OK we pour out for you?" "Um, sure, of course!" #4, My connecting gate was down a single escalator and literally right in front of me. The whole thing took 10 minutes or less, and I'd totally slowed down because of the delay. It was almost as if the airport thought about the close connection and tried to accommodate as best as possible. Imagine that!?
For my $20 meal, despite not being hungry at all, I cashed it in for a plate of very fresh, made in front of me sushi. How could I say no!?
--
The Changi airport in Singapore is rated the best in the world. I'm here to tell you it is every bit as outstanding as reported. It should not be called an airport. Rather it is a mall, collection of bars, restaurants, hotels, entertainment, botanical gardens, etc. that just so happens to have planes that come and go. If all airports were like this, travellers would actually be happy instead of frazzled bitchy stressballs. "We are sorry, madam, you must go downstairs and clear security again." Me : "OK, no problem!" (disclosure: I already knew I had to). But I received this news after sleeping 4 or 5 hours in an actual bed in a dark room, after a delicious hot shower, with the chance to put on makeup and blow dry my hair, followed by a complimentary breakfast which was quite satisfying, and checking my email. All this and it wasn't even the actual Transit Hotel, which was full. This was the Transit Lounge, which charged me ~$30 for the privileges described above. And, I had passed on the movie theatre and swimming pool, in favor of horizontal rest.
It's a very green airport - with real plants everywhere, natural light streaming in, and get this: escalators that go into "sleep mode". I got on thinking, "wow, this is the slowest escalator ever", but then it sped up to a normal speed - Brilliant!
I felt totally on local time which was a feat unto itself. Then I sat enjoying a coffee and thinking about meeting James at the airport in Cambodia. He was flying in 1.5 hours after me.
When I got off the plane, I had to chuckle...#1, agents met us at the gate, profusely apologizing for the 2 hour delay and offering meal vouchers worth ~$20. #2, security was literally around the corner from our gate. #3, there was no off-with-the-shoes or jacket. And oops, I still had water in my bottle. An agent says, "is it OK we pour out for you?" "Um, sure, of course!" #4, My connecting gate was down a single escalator and literally right in front of me. The whole thing took 10 minutes or less, and I'd totally slowed down because of the delay. It was almost as if the airport thought about the close connection and tried to accommodate as best as possible. Imagine that!?
For my $20 meal, despite not being hungry at all, I cashed it in for a plate of very fresh, made in front of me sushi. How could I say no!?
--
 |
| Changi Airport |
 |
| Private Shower Facilities |
I felt totally on local time which was a feat unto itself. Then I sat enjoying a coffee and thinking about meeting James at the airport in Cambodia. He was flying in 1.5 hours after me.
In Flight Entertainment
Dear Parents,
Please, if your kid can stand, buy a seat for them. Think about what you are doing to the pour soul in the window seat in a row of 3 when your family of 3 moves in. REALLY think about it if your kid's a screamer - you know who you are. However, even the "oh but my kid is fine" routine is still just plain rude, so buy the extra seat, get the row to yourselves, and do the right thing for the unsuspecting woulda-been-stuck-with-you-in-a-perpetual-nightmare single person.
Thank you,
Unsuspecting Single Person
There's an OK ending to this story - I ended up moving to the center section where I got 1.5 seats to myself. I was still across from the little terror, however, who proceeded to scream and squirm for the first...oh, 6 hours of a 10 hour flight. It passed out eventually and laid sprawled across an entire seat. I ask, what would it have been like had the flight been completely full??!!
PS - The movie "Contagion" was surprisingly good, although not recommended subject matter for a commercial air flight.
Please, if your kid can stand, buy a seat for them. Think about what you are doing to the pour soul in the window seat in a row of 3 when your family of 3 moves in. REALLY think about it if your kid's a screamer - you know who you are. However, even the "oh but my kid is fine" routine is still just plain rude, so buy the extra seat, get the row to yourselves, and do the right thing for the unsuspecting woulda-been-stuck-with-you-in-a-perpetual-nightmare single person.
Thank you,
Unsuspecting Single Person
There's an OK ending to this story - I ended up moving to the center section where I got 1.5 seats to myself. I was still across from the little terror, however, who proceeded to scream and squirm for the first...oh, 6 hours of a 10 hour flight. It passed out eventually and laid sprawled across an entire seat. I ask, what would it have been like had the flight been completely full??!!
PS - The movie "Contagion" was surprisingly good, although not recommended subject matter for a commercial air flight.
Friday, March 9, 2012
On the Road Again
I'm travelling again! OK, not the "I've quit my job, given up my apartment and leaving for an undetermined period of time" travelling, but my backpack and I are going to a less developed country (Cambodia) for a few weeks. That counts!
The impetus for this trip was multi-fold...
1. It's been WAY TOO LONG since I went anywhere. I haven't left the country for fun since I returned from the Pacific sailing trip, June 2010.
2. I had about 75k United miles absolutely burning a hole in my proverbial pocket.
The 'what' and the 'why' of this trip are interesting too. I'm tempted to not disclose as it's somewhat private, but the story just won't make sense if I don't. This trip is a date, a first date, a somewhat blind date.
Every once in a while I do the online dating thing to date outside my social circle. Back in late Oct/early Nov I put my hat back in the ring. There was the usual string of perfectly "fine" fellows, but no spark to speak of upon meeting in person.
When the dating site paired me up with James (name changed) who was a 94% match, I was interested. I sent him what I like to think was a clever note. He replied, and a series of long messages ensued. Now, my normal and stated rule is to go for a meetup after a couple of positive messages. His profile mentioned doing some travelling, and his notes came in at odd hours. I hoped he was a night owl who had neglected to update his profile. But alas, no, when I asked, "hey, where are you right now?" He replied, "Australia, on my way to Thailand for ~3 months, followed by a tour of SE Asia, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. through August of 2012." Shit.
I'm not really sure why I kept writing. My best friend would probably tell you it's because I'm only interested in unavailable men. I'd like to think not, but my track record might betray me. In any case, our correspondence continued and I found myself looking forward to every note from him...all the while churning through the online dating meetups with little interest.
James is in his mid-late 30's, and Bay-Area identified. He's a very talented software engineer (so says his LinkedIn profile which I unabashedly stalked), as well as a relatively-known DJ. He had decided to take a year off to travel - my kind of fella.
We started skyping here and there despite the 15 hour time difference. Between you and me (:-)), I wasn't school-girl head over heals, but I definitely enjoyed his company, we got along well, and I thought of him often. His tales of Thailand made me supremely jealous, and left me wondering why I ever bothered coming home. (Bank account, oh right!) From what I gather, Thailand and the surrounds are one of the few desirable areas left to travel on dollars a day.
So, I return after my tangent to the 'what'/'why'.
He started dropping hints of my coming out for a visit. I started eyeing my frequent flyer mile balance and corporate calendar (gross, can't believe I just said that). A Feb. trip seemed too...I dunno....rushed (?) for our very unique "relationship", but June and Indonesia seemed both too long to wait and too close to Burningman. March and Cambodia started to take shape. And as quick as I could look up the miles flights, they'd be gone. So in fear of losing my last chance, I hurriedly booked the trip around Dec. 28.
Sure, I could've planned another solo adventure, but I'm tired of travelling alone, at least for now. And, I'm feeling very affectionate these days, but the online dating round proved unsuccessful (locally, that is).
Fast forward 2.5 anticipatory months to today, as currently I'm 1 leg in on a 4 leg journey (damn discount miles!) San Francisco - Seattle - Tokyo - Singapore - Cambodia. Leaving 6am Thurs, March 8th and not arriving until 1130am Sat., March 10th. It was only 65,000 miles plus $80 in taxes to Singapore though...practically free...so I can't really complain. Bonus: I'm carry-on only!!
Even if James reads this I don't mind saying I have few hopes/expectations for "us" and the future. Sure, it'd be awesome if this blossomed into something. But for now I'm just looking to go have a lot of fun on a pretty random and wacky adventure. Regardless of what happens, it'll make for a fabulous story either way. It already has, in my opinion.
Stay tuned...
The impetus for this trip was multi-fold...
1. It's been WAY TOO LONG since I went anywhere. I haven't left the country for fun since I returned from the Pacific sailing trip, June 2010.
2. I had about 75k United miles absolutely burning a hole in my proverbial pocket.
The 'what' and the 'why' of this trip are interesting too. I'm tempted to not disclose as it's somewhat private, but the story just won't make sense if I don't. This trip is a date, a first date, a somewhat blind date.
Every once in a while I do the online dating thing to date outside my social circle. Back in late Oct/early Nov I put my hat back in the ring. There was the usual string of perfectly "fine" fellows, but no spark to speak of upon meeting in person.
When the dating site paired me up with James (name changed) who was a 94% match, I was interested. I sent him what I like to think was a clever note. He replied, and a series of long messages ensued. Now, my normal and stated rule is to go for a meetup after a couple of positive messages. His profile mentioned doing some travelling, and his notes came in at odd hours. I hoped he was a night owl who had neglected to update his profile. But alas, no, when I asked, "hey, where are you right now?" He replied, "Australia, on my way to Thailand for ~3 months, followed by a tour of SE Asia, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. through August of 2012." Shit.
I'm not really sure why I kept writing. My best friend would probably tell you it's because I'm only interested in unavailable men. I'd like to think not, but my track record might betray me. In any case, our correspondence continued and I found myself looking forward to every note from him...all the while churning through the online dating meetups with little interest.
James is in his mid-late 30's, and Bay-Area identified. He's a very talented software engineer (so says his LinkedIn profile which I unabashedly stalked), as well as a relatively-known DJ. He had decided to take a year off to travel - my kind of fella.
We started skyping here and there despite the 15 hour time difference. Between you and me (:-)), I wasn't school-girl head over heals, but I definitely enjoyed his company, we got along well, and I thought of him often. His tales of Thailand made me supremely jealous, and left me wondering why I ever bothered coming home. (Bank account, oh right!) From what I gather, Thailand and the surrounds are one of the few desirable areas left to travel on dollars a day.
So, I return after my tangent to the 'what'/'why'.
He started dropping hints of my coming out for a visit. I started eyeing my frequent flyer mile balance and corporate calendar (gross, can't believe I just said that). A Feb. trip seemed too...I dunno....rushed (?) for our very unique "relationship", but June and Indonesia seemed both too long to wait and too close to Burningman. March and Cambodia started to take shape. And as quick as I could look up the miles flights, they'd be gone. So in fear of losing my last chance, I hurriedly booked the trip around Dec. 28.
Sure, I could've planned another solo adventure, but I'm tired of travelling alone, at least for now. And, I'm feeling very affectionate these days, but the online dating round proved unsuccessful (locally, that is).
 |
| Carry-on Only! |
Even if James reads this I don't mind saying I have few hopes/expectations for "us" and the future. Sure, it'd be awesome if this blossomed into something. But for now I'm just looking to go have a lot of fun on a pretty random and wacky adventure. Regardless of what happens, it'll make for a fabulous story either way. It already has, in my opinion.
Stay tuned...
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