Oh, the Places You'll Go
Here I am, moving again. I have put off packing and cleaning until the bitter end, where time is limited and the adrenaline pumps. My motivation is the clock even after giving myself 3 days to pack and clean. Unlike my usual moving proceedure, I have taken time to take in parts of Colorado I may not see again for awhile; such as rock climbing in Boulder, skiing in Arapahoe Basin and doing open poetry mics in Denver.
In this time, I have spent time with friends to say good bye and do all the things I promised to do since I arrived. I have also given some though to what I will do next. It is routine to talk about the future, when in many cases I haven't established much of a past with my new friends here. Plus, living in a seasonally dependent ski resort means there is always the question, "Will you be around next season?"
Croatia & Bosnia and Herzegovina: All In A Days Travel
After the rave reviews over Croatia’s Dalmatian Coast, I had to take advantage of low cost charter flights connecting Europe tighter than a well-weaved spider’s web. I decide to fly to Croatia because the photos along the coast are simply unreal. As an after thought, Aaliyah and I decide to visit Mostar and Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, which is an amazing fortuitous side trip through a country still recovering from a war and findings its own sense of self. This trip is a healthy mix of beautiful coastlines dotted with islands and soulful conflict resolution conversations among shelled buildings.
Sept 26:
We fly into, the second largest city in Croatia, Split, and go directly to Prisca guesthouse. Ivanka, the owner, is right in the heart of old town, smokes two packs a day and doesn’t speak English. We enjoy watching late night cable TV from all over the world because we don’t have a TV at home.
Sept 27:
We go around to see Split’s Old Town. Split has a regular flow of cruise tourists, who typify the stereotypes of over weight, Mid-Westerns, who expect locals to “do it our way.” In Split, we do the Lonely Planet’s recommended walking. We stay long enough to catch our 5pm ferry to Korcula Island. After arriving in Korcula, we are bombarded with ladies asking if we want a room, and since it is low season, we are out number two to one. There are more ladies opening their house to backpackers then backpackers to fill them.
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Chilvary Isn't Dead
When a trip starts with chauvinism and begins to escalate into the typical town by town travel diary, seeing just the highlights, unexpected kindness brings down my tourist wall. In simple terms, this man gave me one of his fresh baked breads, after I asked about taking his photo. It was a small gesture that I initally refused, but he insisted.
I could not stop thinking about this man's gesture for a week after. I could not stop talking about him to my mom for 24 hours. I have looked at this photo fondly and followed the lines on this face at least three times.
No, I am not obsessed. Just touched.
Turkey Trip Tix
Turkey is the ultimate pull between Eastern tradition and Western values, in so much as a country perched on the edge of Europe's kingdom and Asia's de-masking principles. The same struggle within every Middle Eastern and rising Asian country is somehow furthered, even actualized in a land sliver called Istanbul.
Somehow I landed in Istanbul and expected to be met with China's East vs. West story, however I greatly mistook my host country and everything it hopes to represent in the world. I did take the time to read up on all the favorite tourist destinations but did not get around to reading the "complete" 30-page history section of the Lonely Planet until a week after arriving. I know, I could not even commit to 30 pages of preparatory work.
I am struck by the male-ness of this country and anyone who has traveled to a Middle Eastern, predominated by Islam, can immediately relate. Men hang around the street to offer you tea, stare at tank-top wearing tourists, make small talk and shake every penny out of you. To equate them to vultures wouldn't be a huge stretch. Women, on the other hand, are rare seen and even more rarely heard from.
In traveling 17 days throughout Turkey, with my mom, who wants to see as much as possible in the shortest amount of time, the trip is group-tour packed. It is not a group-tour all together, but each stop consists of a pre-arranged group tour. Personally, not my cup of tea in succession.
So I thought I would share the tour, one grueling hot August day at a time:
Aug. 10:
Leave Vauxhall at 3:30am to take the Luton Airport shuttle from Victoria. Arrive at Luton at 5am for our 6:10am EasyJet flight to Istanbul's Sabiha Gokcen Airport located on the Asian-side. After taking the Kandikoy bound bus, then a Eminounu bound ferry across the Bosphorus, and then the Tram to Sultanahmet, my mom and I arrive to The Nobel Guesthouse, right next to The Blue Mosque, by 2pm. We scarf down lunch at the guesthouse's Sofa Cafe, now gone alcohol free as a marketing strategy to be different from the neighboring bars and restaurants. We walk around Sultanahmet to stretch our tired legs.
Global Cities in London
Just moved to the Big City, London, from the Big City, Los Angeles. I'm still wide-eyed.
I arrive in London feeling like a tourist, except for a vague notion of the English language I share with locals--even a previous visit to the Queen's homeland--I feel I am in a fish bowl. I am looking out of a glass ball, swimming in circles making tiny bubbles as I gawk at the large-contorted faces peering in, occasionally tapping on the glass, which send alarming waves. Then I go back to swimming around in circles.
Oh, the Weather Outside is Fright...ful
Three nights before Christmas
and all through the airport,
Not a creature was departing,
not even a wart.
These are the events that took place on Friday, December 22, 2006, the day the Denver International Airport opened after a two day blizzard, dubbed "The Worse Weather in America." On that day, I attempt to get home for Christmas.
Characters involved; Sandy, my elementary school friend whom I have known since I was 8 years old; Darren, her husband and myself. We are all scheduled to depart on the same flight.
7:15am: Alarm goes off and I hit snooze. I groan from my extra sensitive nasal passages, sore from too much activity, dry air and not enough sleep.
7:21am: Alarm goes off again, I hit snooze. I whine from having a dry mouth and having to search for the alarm.
7:27am: Alarm goes off, I turn it off and get up. Sandy asks "What time it is?"
7:40am: I start to pack my bag full of dirty clothes to wash when I get home. Sandy and Darren pack also.
8:00am: Continue packing. Sandy washes the dirty dishes from the previous evening's dinner.
8:14am: Darren and Sandy advise me that based on their CERT Emergency
Training class through the City of Los Angeles Fire Department, they
needed to pack emergency rations and carry plenty of extra water, to
prepare for a long stay at the airport. I laugh. Then, I agree to
look for extra food.
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Good Bye China, Hello Winter Park
Suddenly, I appeared in Colorado.
Actually, I moved. Six weeks ago, I had no idea that I would be in the US today, but a job opportunity working as an apprentice in Custom Ski Boots arose, and I took it. The access to snow sports, particularly snowboarding, sealed the deal and I packed my bags.
