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Chinese New Year With Plenty of Flair

February 11th, 2011

When I got an invite to a house party to celebrate Chinese New Year in Manila, my mind was filled with visions of some beer, a few bottles of wine and some hors d’oeuvres. As is a common theme here at the Freedonia Post, what I experienced went far beyond those expectations.

This was not “just” a house party. It was a fun-filled event at the amazing home of a local TV host-socialite-eccentric-philanthropist, Tessa Prieto-Valdes, renowned here for her flamboyant style and zest for life. She was once a guest judge on Project Runway Philippines in which the competitors were tasked with toning down her style without eliminating her personality. Not an easy trick from what I could tell.

Oh, and there’s a koi pond in her guest bathroom.

The entire home was filled with holiday decorations. Lanterns, lights, streamers. Party favors and gift bags adorned the piano and several tables in the living room. It was a broad mixture – everything from zodiac books to perfume to jewelry to toilet bowl cleaner (the booby prizes, of course).

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With a musical background provided by a DJ playing a steady stream of 80s hits, our dinner was delicious Mongolian BBQ. Row after row of ingredients were placed on long banquet tables – vegetables, rice, noodles, meats, spices and sauces. It was up to the individual to select what they wanted in their bowl, although staff was standing by to offer advice for anyone who wished it.

I did good work choosing a variety of items that were then given to the chefs to prepare and attendants to bring to your table, courtesy of an extremely effective claim check system. My meal was based in rice and chicken, but with an assortment of spices and sauces that approached Sichuan levels of mouth-sizzling. Just the way I like it.

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During and after dinner, lighting of luck lanterns took place off of a second floor balcony. As they sailed high into the sky with nothing but a little paper and flame as fuel, I was curious where they might land. On the beachfront in Phuket, they sailed out to sea. In the middle of Manila? Where was my GPS tag when I needed it?P1000389

After dinner, the participation portion of the evening began. Several games related to the Chinese Zodiac left me with a bottle of perfume as a parting gift. So now I smell nice, if a bit flowery. I was lucky to have gotten any prizes at all, because several of the contests required knowledge of the local language. Since I was out in the back of our high school smoking during Tagalog class, I didn’t do very well.

It was a wonderful evening and a wonderful first day in Manila, thanks to friends new and old.

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Mad Max at 3/4 Scale

December 22nd, 2010

“Don’t walk home alone after midnight.”

That was the advice I got about Nha Trang from my new British friend.

One of the real changes to my personality during my travels has been the growing ability to have random conversations with people along the way. Shyness and introversion have given way to an increasing openness to interact with complete strangers.

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It’s been a nice shift, not only because I’m becoming more adept at meeting people, but I’ve also based a lot of my travel destinations on advice and recommendations from chats I’ve had in trains, buses, hotels and restaurants.

While in Hoi An, I played pool with a couple of guys who had just come from Nha Trang, which was my next destination. In between my fruitless efforts to bank striped balls into leather lined holes, they gave me the ins and outs of what to do there. They also warned me about the motorbike gangs.

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Southeast Asia is not a place with much violent crime. Generally, the less desirable element of the population will just do their best to scam you out of a few extra dollars or quietly take money from your bag when you’re not around (which happened to several people on a boat trip through Halong Bay).

Nha Trang is a pretty nice place, less so if you’re not a scuba diver. Beaches, great restaurants, waterfalls and Monkey Island. And tons of tourists. Which is why it’s also home to more blatant tourist crime than you’ll find in the rest of Vietnam.

My British advisor told me about his experience getting surrounded by a handful of people on motorbikes on a quiet street in Nha Trang. They tried to grab his money, but after he got a few good hits in, they decided he wasn’t worth the trouble and raced away.

His experience was one I found repeated by others when I did a quick search, courtesy of the Google Crime Blotter. Groups of muggers on motorbike come out at night and seek out opportunities for a quick grab ‘n go. Groups of women try the same, with their own feminist twist.

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Like Cinderella or a Mogwai’s dinner time, I ignored the warning about midnight and started a trek back to my room at about 1 in the morning. I had spent the evening at The Sailing Club, a beautiful beachfront restaurant and dance club which spills out onto the sand with seating, a second bar and a small bonfire.

About a block through the 4 block walk, I saw them from a distance. Tiny engines revved. Like a scene from a post-apocalyptic epic performed in miniature, the motorbikes serpentined down the street. The area I was passing through was dark, so I hugged the wall in an effort to stay invisible to the pint-sized Hell’s Angels.

From behind me, though, a lone motorbike headed my way. As it neared to within 15 feet, the driver parked it and aimed her feet my way.

Through the darkness, the woman’s voice said “you want me suck you?”

The offer wasn’t appealing in the first place, but since hearing the tale in Hoi An, I had done enough research to know that one of the typical games is to get close enough to play “grope the tourist” and use the distraction to lift his wallet, then race away on the motorbike.

I was a bit nervous at this point – not because of the woman heading toward me. Knowing what she was going to attempt to do, I knew I could protect the few dollars I had on me. I was more concerned about attracting the attention of the larger gang hovering nearby. While I found no reports online of any weapon use, I knew that roughing someone up a bit was not unheard of.

From what I could see, they had pulled off to get some food at a late night street vendor, about 2 blocks up.

Before the initiator of the disturbing invitation got within 10 feet of me, I yelled “Back off!” Loudly enough for her to get the message, but not with enough volume to catch the notice of the Wild Ones ahead.

I don’t think it frightened her, but she was savvy enough to know that my attitude was not one that was going to let her get close enough to snag my wallet, so she turned back to her bike as I quickly darted around the corner, not quite running but also not what you would consider walking. The new route was much better lit, more heavily trafficked by other tourists and only added a half block to my walk.

While the sound of motorbikes continued to echo around the nearby alleys, I got back to the hostel in less than 5 minutes, thanks to my accelerated pace.

It wasn’t really a scary situation, it was more annoying that this kind of crime is so commonplace in such a busy tourist town. Unlike Thailand, Vietnam doesn’t have “tourist police” so you’re pretty much on your own as a foreigner.

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A Hostel Encounter

December 15th, 2010

Back in the saddle this week. I decided to take an impromptu hiatus last week and just gather my thoughts. I’m nearing the six month mark of my travels and heading into the next phase of my journey, which is even less mapped out than the loose plans I had for the previous six months. At the same time, I’m considering making some changes to the blog.

More on that in a future post, once I have a bit more clarity.

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In Bangkok, I’m staying in a high end part of town. While I’m booked in a hostel, it’s an P1030105extraordinary one – much nicer than most of the hotels I’ve stayed at along the way. New, clean, friendly and in a central location.

So, the conversation I had last night caught me a bit by surprise.

Outside of my room, there is a table, with two chairs that overlook Thanon Rama I and the National Stadium BTS station. The furniture is brushed aluminum, like you might find on an outdoor patio at a fast food restaurant. Weatherproof, stainproof and pretty much indestructible other than rocking back and forth due to a leg that’s shorter than the others. I have a theory that restaurant furniture is made like this on purpose so that people can’t get TOO comfortable and the establishment can get more turns as people flow in and out.

Anyway…

As I headed out for a walk around the neighborhood, there was an attractive young woman sitting at the table. I’d seen her in the hostel a couple of times already, always offering a friendly smile.

She looked up at me and said hello, so I stopped to say hi and chat with her for a few minutes before continuing on my way.

She was nice, but I knew right off the bat that something was off. Asian, but with long hair bleached blonde. Not blonde highlights or a light brown, it was closer to the color that white walls turn when they spend a couple of years in the company of a heavy smoker.

Not Thai. She didn’t have the dark complexion or warm, welcoming eyes they generally have in the southern region of the country. Chinese, perhaps Vietnamese. The hair was throwing me off, so I couldn’t tell for certain. Despite my estimation that she was in her early 20s, small tattoos had been on her bicep and ankle long enough that they were faded and out of focus like they were being viewed through a cheap camera lens.

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After a brief introduction, she got to business. So to speak.

“How long you stay here?”

“Just got here yesterday. Heading out on Thursday to go to Chiang Mai.”

“No I think you here a week already. I see you before.”

Evidently I had a doppelganger staying in my room before I arrived. I hope he tipped well, so the waiters around here don’t all hate me at first sight.

“Nope, must have been someone else. What brings you to Bangkok?”

“Getting a visa. I was in Malaysia but didn’t like.”

“Really? Why didn’t you like it?”

She mumbled something I couldn’t make out and whatever she said seemed lengthy and complicated. I didn’t ask her to repeat herself, since I was convinced I wouldn’t understand it on a second pass either.

“Where are you from originally?”

“Vietnam. Working in Bangkok.”

This was like a highly pixelated image that you see from a foot away. You have an idea what it might be, but you have to get a bit further away to be sure.

“Cool, where do you work?”

“All over. Bars. Hotels.”

The pixelation instantly disappeared. leaving behind a 1080p image. It was still surprising to hear her say it so matter of factly.

“How long have you been staying here?”

“One week already.”

“Nice, well I’m heading out. It was nice to meet you. See you later.”

“Where you go now?”

I get this question a lot in Bangkok. From hostel staff, tuk-tuk drivers, women in front of bars. I’d love to explain to them that I pretty much NEVER know where I’m going. I just walk in a direction and decide along the way. Unfortunately, that kind of conversation will wrap you up with a tout for an hour, longer if they try to convince you to go somewhere they want you to go.

“Not sure. Just going to walk around the area for a while.”

“I come with you.”

I had no immediate idea what to say to that. I hate being judgmental and didn’t want to think the worst right away, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t just interested in joining me to explore the neighborhood, but maybe?

She broke the silence.

“We go to another hotel.”

“Uh, no. Thank you, though. Have a nice night.”

When I got back from my walk, she’d been replaced at the table by two German guys eating dinner. Even though she was pleasant enough, I felt a wave of relief that I didn’t have to talk with her again.

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This was a definite first for me. While I’ve certainly been approached by prostitutes in Bangkok (hard to avoid, whether you’re having a beer or just walking down the block) and I’ve had interesting experiences in red light areas around the globe, I didn’t expect to be propositioned like that in a hostel. Backpackers aren’t exactly known for the depths of their financial resources.

Maybe she’s discovered an untapped market.

What do I do with that info? I’m a bit torn. The hostel really doesn’t want that kind of a rep, and it would be unwarranted (which is why I’m not naming the place). But I also felt sympathy for her. I may not agree with her life choices, but I wasn’t living her life and know nothing about it. She was nice and wasn’t blatantly working the place. I’m also certain she’ll be gone in a couple of days when her visa comes through.

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10 Travel Blogs to Make You Laugh

November 23rd, 2010

Yeah, yeah, yeah. There are a lot of great travel blogs out there. I could do a list of the “top 59 blogs to feature on your own blog to drive more traffic to your site.” But to Hell with that. As is extremely apparent to the 5 people who read this blog, I’m not one to worry too much about site traffic.

But I do like to be entertained, so I’m sharing this little list of sites that keep me laughing in the hopes that you will enjoy them and be inspired to write something clever in the comments below. Or at least tell me about something funny you read once, fer Chrissakes.

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1) Unbrave Girl

What it’s about:

After leaving Buffalo to teach English in Japan for a few years, Sally is now pushing further into Asia. Slowly. After a few adventures and odd jobs, including boat building in Malaysia, she’s settled into Chiang Mai, Thailand with 312 other travel blogging expats. Yes, Sally, you’re crazy. But yes, it’s a good crazy.

Why it’s on the list:

Every post Sally writes makes me laugh. And the bonus is they’re all the length of novellas, so you get more bang for your click-through. Whether it’s her battles with bugs and cats in Thailand or her frequent admission to spending most of her globe-trotting time on the couch eating cookies, she’s my kind of traveler.

The Must Read post:

unbrave girl at the movies: a belated review of eat, pray, love

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2) Bacon Is Magic

What it’s about:

Someone needs to do a 21st century version of the Grease song and call it “Corporate World Drop-out” because there are a lot of people who can identify with Ayngelina’s departure from the world of advertising to travel South America. She is able to keep up with writing a post nearly every day as she goes from country to country in Central and South America. A couple of key features are the “Have you met… x?” – profiles of people she meets on the road and the photos of her traveling companion Mr. Bacon.

Why it’s on the list:

Ayngelina isn’t necessarily writing comedy on a regular basis, but she does have a great wit, she’s one of the nicest bloggers I know and the site’s name alone makes me laugh, even months after I first heard it. Her “12 Things I Hate About Travel” was funny while being a wonderfully cathartic vent, getting an eye-popping 65 comments from people who could identify with having a bad day on the road

Must Read Post:

Have You Met Whatsherface?

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3) The Jetpacker

What it’s about:

Much less of a personal blog than the rest, Bret and Jackie share offbeat travel news, funny lists and unusual things to do while traveling. They also do have the requisite blog entries that provide a wonderfully lighthearted look at their own travels.

Why it’s on the list:

A great daily round-up of what’s going on in the world, with a news of the weird vibe. It’s an entertaining  place to visit for a few laughs and to learn about odd attractions around the world that you won’t generally find in Lonely Planet. This is the blog I’d like to run, if I had the time. And ambition.

Must Read Post:

69 TOWNS AND CITIES WITH FUNNY DIRTY NAMES

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4) The Solitary Panda

What it’s about:

After losing her job in the US last year, Janet hopped off to a volunteer experience in India, then made her way to the Philippines to live with her parents in her childhood home. Her blog chronicles some amazing experiences and things she’s done along the way, always with a refreshing openness and sense of humor.

Why it’s on the list:

Janet never ceases to inspire me. There are a lot of people who claim to “tell it like it is” but I have never in my life read posts from someone who absolutely refuses to filter what’s on her mind, whether it’s masturbation or shaving her head. Her search for direction and adventure has led her to the Philippines where she’s done things most people would never even think of doing – like staying in a Buddhist monastery for four months and then a month later walking 400 miles along Palawan island.

Must Read Post:

I’m All Holy And Shit

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5) The Aussie Nomad

What it’s about:

En route between a little town in Australia and a new job in London, Chris took an extended diversion to travel Europe. In addition to some of the well-known icons, he has also spent a fair amount of time in less-traveled corridors of Eastern Europe, providing information and tales from little known places, always with an Aussie’s wit and penchant for a pint.

Why it’s on the list:

One common thread I’ve found amongst the humorous travel blogs is that they have a palpable love for their lives, which is why the energy and lighthearted mood come through so well. Well, Chris has more personality than the average 10 blogs put together. Somehow, with his “Vegemite Challenge” he has conned a number of people into trying to eat the foul Aussie creation. And sending him videos of it. I think the videos qualify as “torture porn” like Saw 8, but that’s just me.

Must Read Post:

The Vegemite Challenge

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6) Fevered Mutterings

What it’s about:

This is the personal blog of Mike Sowden, who’s left the world of archaeology to become a freelance writer. While Mike writes extensively for travel sites and about places he’s been, his personal blog isn’t exclusively a travel blog, unless you want to invoke a cliché and say that life itself is a journey. But I would never be so lame as to say that.

Why it’s on the list:

In addition to a stunningly wicked sense of humor, Mike is an exceptional writer. He also has a bit broader series of posts than just travel destinations, as he regularly writes about writing, reading and even a bit of science fiction. With how dear all those things are to me, how could I resist reading a site that mocks them?

Must Read Post:

50 Amazingly Achievable Things To Do Before You Die

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7) A Chick With Baggage

What it’s about:

After leaving a computer nerd career to start a perpetual trek around the globe in January of 2010, Abbey stopped a few months later because she fell in love. Not with a man, although those have certainly come into play. Abbey found a home and a job in a tiny town in the south of Spain that felt so right that she halted her world tour for a while. Great stories and great information from someone who’s even raunchier than I am.

Why it’s on the list:

Abbey was once given some blogging advice that her site name might be misinterpreted negatively. When she replied “yeah, that’s the point” I knew I had found a winner. She was a bit too happy living in Spain for so long, so I’m hoping that being back in the US for a while will bring the mean and nasty side back. She also has a fondness for signing off emails by saying “penis” instead of “Best Regards” so how can you not love that?

Must Read Post:

The Biggest Tomato Fight IN. THE. WORLD.

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8 ) Johnny Vagabond

What it’s about:

One of the few independent world travel bloggers who’s in my age range, Wes Nations shows off gorgeous photography and an outstanding ability to tell a tale everywhere he goes. In his hands, the most random encounter turns into a fascinating and laugh-out-loud anecdote. He’s left on a one year (or more) trip on the slow road, making his plans up as he goes, but always taking time to see the less traveled destinations and meet the locals.

Why it’s on the list:

A great wit, but more importantly, Wes has an uncanny ability to step into the most bizarre, off-the-wall situations imaginable. From con men to crazies, he doesn’t shy away from encounters even when any sane person would. Instead, he dives in further and has been mostly unscathed for it. As in the post noted below, he’s also a bit of an “over-sharer” which is always great comedy.

Must Read Post:

Three Mistakes on a Hot Day in Bangkok

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9) Candice Does The World

What it’s about:

Candice. The World. Candice’s writing background ranges from children’s books to technical manuals for deep sea equipment, and she’s also an associate editor at Matador Network, one of the best known travel resources on the web. In her blog, Candice chronicles her life in Newfoundland Canada and travels as often as she can, tracking down nightclubs and trouble like a shark tracks a wounded seal.

Why it’s on the list:

It’s her role as a trouble-magnet that makes Candice a joy to read. When she’s off on road trips with friends, it’s like Lucy and Ethel Go To Cabo. When all the buzz was about Chatroulette a few months ago, Candice braved the perils most people feared and wrote about the experience. In excruciating and disturbing detail.

Must Read Post:

P-Mates, for the Girl Who Has Always Wanted to Pee Her Name in the Snow

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And there you have it. My favorite travel blogs when I need a dose of humor. If any of you comment that I only listed 9 blogs, you’re missing the obvious one. And screw you for that.

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Crazy Small World Travel Encounters

November 17th, 2010

I love coincidences. They’re little bits of probability gone haywire, like hitting “red” on a roulette wheel 11 times in a row.

Running into a friend at a market in a town 50 miles away is always interesting. Seeing a high school classmate in an airport a thousand miles from where you grew up is a bit mind blowing, but considering the number of people you meet in your lifetime and the durations involved, those things can happen once in a while.

In past travels, I’ve had three encounters that can only be qualified as bat-shit crazy. And while it wasn’t with a person, one of them happened only a week ago.

All My Exes Live In a Nexus

In 2000, I made my very first trek to New York City for some meetings related to my new job. After two days of work and negotiations with the WWE’s Vince McMahon, I decided to stay through the weekend to see the sights.

As you’re probably aware, it’s a huge city so I covered a lot of ground in a very short time. A kitschy night at the DSC00427infamous China Club kept me in bed a bit later than usual on Sunday, but I wanted to take one more walk through Times Square to check out the sidewalk vendors and grab some souvenirs before I had to hop in a taxi to catch a flight from JFK.

I leafed through bootleg DVDs and picked up a tiny cast iron Empire State Building, then headed up 6th Avenue toward the hotel to grab my luggage.

While waiting for the light to change so I could cross 49th Street, I was absent-mindedly people watching, as I tend to do. On the other side of the street, I noticed a woman in the massive crowd who looked familiar. My vision was then cut off by a tour bus that was racing to make it through the yellow light.

The bus turned and I was able to take a second look to check out the woman who looked a lot like my ex-wife. After we split, she left LA for Phoenix, so I hadn’t seen her in about 2 years. Until that random moment in the middle of Manhattan.

On a Sunday morning, during my first visit to a city with millions of residents and countless tourists, I bumped into the woman with whom I had once shared marital vows. We may not have been together ‘til death do us part’ but the shock of reuniting like that almost did me in.

All Roads Really DO Lead To Rome

Cut to five years later. After an amazing bicycle tour of Tuscany, riding the hills between Pisa and Siena, I knew I needed to spend a few days in Rome.

One of my habits in a foreign city is to stop by an Irish pub. I don’t know why, but I always like to check out IMGP0315how that little bit of Ireland translates to other cultures. Odd, considering I have yet to even visit Ireland.

A conversation with some British girls ensued until around 1am, when we decided to hit up an underground dance club they knew about. About a kilometer away, the place was tiny and dark downstairs in what may have once been a wine cellar. Evidently, quite a profitable side business for the restaurant owner above.

There may have been 40 people there, most of whom were crammed onto the postage stamp-sized dance floor. The ladies and I danced for a while, leading to a need to quench with a stop at the bar.

At this point, it’s about 3 AM. One big drink from my Peroni and I looked around to see what else was going on in the place. About 15 feet away, I noticed someone I knew but had never met. At first, I thought I had gone over my drink limit but I had been pacing myself very carefully, so that wasn’t it.

Now it was my curiosity that needed to be quenched. I approached him and asked “hey, are you my next door neighbor?”

At 3 o’clock in the morning, in a tiny underground club in Rome, 8,000 miles away from my one bedroom apartment in Sherman Oaks California, I ran into the guy I shared a wall with back home.

When Fiction Attacks

While I was in England, I picked up a couple of books. One of them was Nine Dragons by Michael Connelly. I’ve always enjoyed Connelly’s work, especially his Harry Bosch series (of which this book is a member). Dragons was released about a year ago, so I was able to pick it up in paperback.

The books are thriller-mysteries that generally take place in Los Angeles. An aspect that brings them to life for me is the use of real-life locations that I know. When Harry stops at the In N Out on Cahuenga for a burger, it’s cool because it’s down the street from my former office so I ate there on countless occasions.

That “real world” aspect took on a unique twist this time. I had this book with me in Hong Kong, but didn’t have the chance to crack it until about a month later.

(*mild spoiler alert*)

When Harry’s daughter gets kidnapped in Hong Kong, he flies over to track her down. I read intently as he narrowed in on her location. Wow, she’s being held in Kowloon, the place I stayed only a month ago. IMGP2691

Cool, she’s even in Tsim Sha Tsui, the harbor neighborhood and location of my hotel room. There are a lot of hotels there so it was fun that I knew the locations he described, but it was only a mild coincidence.

And she’s somewhere on Nathan Road. Okay, that’s a big, very popular street with a lot of activity. It’s getting a bit crazy but still understandable.

Until he finds out she’s at Chunking Mansions. A receipt for that location is still in my backpack. Okay, now it’s getting freaky but there are dozens of guest houses in Chunking Mansions. My brain kept sparking with thoughts of “no way!” but I was able to smother them before any serious damage occurred.

When he got out of the elevator on the 15th floor of Tower A, passed by dozens of rooms and headed to the 7th room on the floor facing Nathan Road, I knew exactly where he was. I had just stayed in the 3rd room on that same hallway.

If I had read that book WHILE I was staying there, my head actually would have exploded.

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So the last one wasn’t an encounter with a person, but reading that particular book only a month after I was in that exact location is pretty cosmic in the realm of coincidences.

Have you had any incredibly random travel encounters that push the boundaries of believability?

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Chemistry Class in Prague

September 28th, 2010

I’ve met a lot of great people while I’ve been traveling. As I assumed, being on the road alone has helped push me to be a bit more outgoing with people. I’ve had conversations on trains and in hostels, I’ve enjoyed evenings with friends and friends of friends, I’ve had some wonderful times hanging out with connections first made in the online world and I’ve had a couple encounters that have even gotten physical.

P1020564In Prague, though, I had my first emotional attachment on this trip, albeit one that was as quick to end as it was to begin.

On the recommendation of some friends, I stopped by a club called Techtle Mechtle not far from my hotel. Unlike most of the places I had seen in Prague, this was a local hangout and not one geared to tourists, backpackers or bachelor parties. It was a breath of fresh air. I mean that figuratively, since the air was actually seeping with enough smoke to make a Whitesnake video.

The place was extremely nice, clean and well decorated with a fun, friendly staff. It was more of a lounge than a club, but had a small dance floor. Though it wasn’t packed, the tables were all taken: Russian gangstas in Adidas track suits and bottles of vodka on ice, small groups of co-workers working on post-happy hour beers, and in one case, a couple of older British men who seemed oblivious to the fact that they were partying with a group of trannies who had made their way over from the gay bar across the street.

The music was current dance pop – heavy on Katy Perry and David Guetta, which was perfect for the light-hearted mood I was in.

Fashion show segments on the video screens provided atmosphere rather than entertainment value. Regardless of what’s on, my eyes are always drawn to television so I learned an awful lot about fashion designers and their new lines.

In between checking out the latest ridiculous outfits from Betsey Johnson, my eyes were also drawn to a woman standing on the opposite side of the circular bar. She was with a group of friends, but our eyes met frequently and she seemed more interested in me than in the conversations that surrounded her.

She was beautiful. So much that every time she looked at me and smiled, I had to slyly look around to make sure it was meant for me. I also checked to ensure no one had drawn a mustache on me with a Sharpie. Over and over, my eyes were drawn to her dark brown hair, beautiful eyes and playful smile. She looked a bit like Debra Messing, except she was young, attractive and had a great figure.

Every time she looked at me and smiled, I had to slyly look around to make sure it was meant for me.

After being ousted from my seat during a visit to the men’s room, I maneuvered a bit closer to where she was standing. A few moments later, the trannies cleared out as they took the older gentlemen somewhere to maliciously tease them in private.

The now empty table was quickly snatched by the group that held the object of my obsession. As they were pulling their chairs around, one of the women in the group approached me and said “you can sit down as well, if you’d like.”

I was taken aback a bit but smiled and sat.

I quickly learned that the woman who invited me to sit was named Vanya, worked in Prague as a receptionist and was originally from Bulgaria. As we talked, looks continued to pass across the table between me and the woman whose name I now knew was Marina.

“She’s very upset,“ I was told.

“Upset? Why?”

“She wants to talk to you, but doesn’t speak any English. Only Czech and Russian.”

Sadly, I couldn’t even make use of my horrendous French. Or at least some basic Spanish or Italian.

Though we had absolutely no language commonality, Marina and I spent a couple of hours together on the dance floor and at the table. While Vanya played translator for a while, she was moving around, working her own love connections.

The club offered a wifi network so the two of us were able to enjoy some small bits of verbal interaction, courtesy of Google Translate and my iPod Touch. I probably told her that she had a beautiful horse, but it made her smile anyway. Sadly, even that communication was one-way because I didn’t have a Cyrillic keyboard in my iPod.

Her look, her smile drenched me with emotions.

Despite our inability to exchange a single verb, noun or adjective, there was an undeniable chemistry between us. Her look, her smile drenched me with emotions. And they were a bunch of the good ones, not just the sexual kind. I know it sounds ridiculous, but in all honesty, it was the strongest immediate pull I’ve had toward someone in several years.

And sadly, that’s really about the end of it. I gave Vanya a card with my email, since she’s going to be heading to Munich the same weekend I am, but I’m doubtful there will be any contact from her or Marina. Language issues aside, there’s not much opportunity to get involved with someone who doesn’t stay put for more than a week at a time.

Some quick kisses goodbye and they were gone. As she left, Marina seemed visibly depressed that we were two ships that hadn’t even had a chance to pass in the night. At best, she was docked at a port I couldn’t reach.

Sometimes following the wind can be a pain in the ass.

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Statue of Liberty Play

July 19th, 2010

Disclaimer: Do not try this. If you choose to try this, you are on your own and you’re probably not too bright. I do not condone this behavior. Any time you mix fire and alcohol, you’re asking for trouble.

That said, it was pretty cool.

On a night out in Amsterdam, I met a couple guys who worked for the US military. Unlike 95% of the crowd at the clubs, these guys were close to my age. They’re stationed in the Netherlands working for Nato, with their families still back in the States.

While we talked, I learned about a very cool drinking trick called the Statue of Liberty. It was completely new to me, although I may have to show it off at parties eventually.

  • Order a shot of Sambuca, in a glass large enough to dip your fingers into the liquid.
  • Dip your first two fingers into the Sambuca, coating them. Sambuca is a bit syrupy, so it’ll stick to them fairly well. Keep your fingers pointed down so that the liquid doesn’t run down your hand and arm.
  • Using a candle or other available flame, ignite the Sambuca on your fingers. The flame will burn the alcohol, but not your fingers (as long as you don’t take too long).
  • Hold your fingers in the air like the Statue of Liberty while you down the shot with your other hand.
  • Put your fingers out by shaking them before permanent damage occurs.
  • Collect accolades and admiration.

Do I have to tell you once again NOT to do this?

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Listen to My Interview at NomadicChick.com!

May 27th, 2010

I’ve been ridiculously busy all week, so I’m going to cheat a little bit and not write a full post for today.

Instead, I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to send you all to check out a podcast interview that I’m featured on, courtesy of the wonderful Jeannie Mark aka NomadicChick.

The podcast is available at NomadicChick.com

Visit nomadicchick.com

Check out my interview on nomadicchick.com

I’ve mentioned Jeannie a few times on here and you need to check out her site – and not just to hear my sexy (though robotic and tinny Skypish) voice. In addition to her wonderful writing and inspirational thoughts, she and I have been on similar timelines in our planning to escape for long term travel (albeit in opposite directions around the globe).  I have also forgiven her for being Canadian, though not without misgivings.

You can hear more about my trip plans and thoughts on leaving the corporate world for long term travel. And those of you who actually know me can leave comments telling her the real truth about me and share embarrassing information publicly. I can’t delete those comments like I can the ones here.

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Connect With Other Travelers: All-New Freedonia Forums!

May 9th, 2010

How many times has this happened to you?

You’re in Istanbul. After a raucous night eating Australian vegemite and getting tanked on some unpronounceable Belgian beer, you pay your respects at the porcelain temple, then painfully move on to your next destination.

Image: Nick Farnhill (Creative Commons License) via Flickr

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Confessions of a Cultural Idiot – Pt 4: Talk

May 2nd, 2010

This is part 4 of a four part series, in which I chastise myself for past experiences and give advice on fixing myself for future travels. Yes, I can give myself advice without being crazy. If you’d like to catch up, you can read:

The sin

Okay, I can’t really say that being “shy” makes someone an idiot. The problem comes in when you are situationally shy, like I am. In business meetings or when I’m with friends, I’m not quiet at all. If you were to ask my friends about my “shyness” they would give you a look like you just asked about the political significance of the music of Miley Cyrus.

Image Creative Commons: Katie Tegtmayer

» Read more: Confessions of a Cultural Idiot – Pt 4: Talk

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