The Incredible Adventures of Kim

Thank You

2006-08-09T06:24:00.000-07:00

Ken, Supriya and I want to say THANK YOU to all the wonderful people who touched our lives along our journey around the world.

To our families who we visited and gave us a taste of home away from home, the friends who took time out to meet us in random cities, the strangers who generously gave us a helping hand when we needed it...
Thank you for the stories, the laughter and the memories.

And to those we had left behind these past few months - family, friends, workmates...
Thank you for your support and well wishes. You were all sorely missed.

Because of you all, we had the trip of a lifetime.

After exactly 100 days of travel, we are home.

Love, Kim

Last Stop, Manila

2006-08-09T05:43:00.000-07:00

With 2.5 days to go before heading back to Canberra, we found ourselves in Manila with free time on our hands. We checked into our hotel and immediately headed out to the one thing you have to do when in the Philippines - go to a mall.

Malls here are no ordinary malls. No, they are super malls. Mega malls. Malls that include ice skating rinks, Imax theaters, hundreds of brand-name stores, food courts that never end, music streaming from every corner, variety shows held to entertain crowds. Shopping could very well be the last thing you could do there! So you can understand how this is where everyone gathers - as a day out with the family, to meet with friends after school or work, to go out on dates... In a country with so little space and so many people, malls have become the obvious place to hang out.

The king of all malls, the "Mall of Asia" now existed at the very end of the road where our hotel was situated. Right at the end of Edsa road, where the land had been reclaimed from the sea, a huge shopping complex glittered in the sun and boasted the best spot to watch the famous sunset on Manila Bay. Less than a year old, the "Mall of Asia" became our regular haunt for the next 2 days.

I introduced Ken to more traditional Filipino food - sisig (fried pigs ear), dinuguan (pork cooked in blood)... He loved it, although Soups refused to try it. We watched Pirates of the Carribbean 2 again, and found that the gory parts of the movie had been censored. And then we shopped, shopped and shopped.

On Sunday, I decided that I needed more time with my parents, so I called them up and invited them to spend a day with me. They immediately hopped onto a bus and were knocking at my hotel door before I had even properly woken up! So Soups and Ken got the day off to shop some more, and I spent the rest of the day spending quality time with the parents, telling stories, buying knick-knacks...

Mom and Pa took me to the area of Baclaran where a large cathedral for the Lady of Perpetual Help was situated in the midst of street markets. Both were main attractions, as the Lady of Perpetual Help was reknowned for granting healing miracles, and the markets were dirt cheap.

We then headed off to the cool air-conditioned comfort of the Mall of Asia where we strolled around and frequently got lost. My parents then headed back to Los Banos that afternoon, and the next day we caught our flight to Singapore, then to Melbourne, and finally to Canberra.

Cheers,
Kim

The Beaches of Boracay

2006-08-04T19:44:00.000-07:00

Boracay is a tropical resort island in the Philippines, renowned for its white beaches and blue waters - a favourite of the tourists. Having classified ourselves in this category, we decided to discover its delights.

The flight there was easily the worst in history. It was a one-hour flight from Manila to Caticlan - the closest airport on a nearby island. Not only did we find out that we had paid an exorbitant amount (as all the other passengers bragged about how they had found discounts), but the plane was tiny, they didn't turn the aircon on until we had reached altitude, the plane bounced on every air pocket, and a little girl in front of me spent half of the hot hour-long flight screaming. So we were all literally hot and incredibly bothered.

As soon as we landed in Boracay, our disbelief increased as we started getting charged all sorts of fees. Environmental tax, registration fees, ferry fees, docking fees... while we didn't mind contributing to the maintenance of what we heard was a beautiful island, we had thought it would be more logical and less aggravating to just pay one fee up front.

A tricycle driver with a death wish drove us at breakneck speeds through hilly and busy roads to our hotel. Soups and I spent that time praying, while Ken concentrated on not getting his head bashed against the top of the tiny tricycle as we bounced around.

But as soon as we got to the beach and found our hotel, we collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The place was beyond our expectations.

The hotels, restaurants and shops formed a strip that ran parallel to the beach, and was screened from the strong sea winds by bamboo windbreakers, so one could get the sense of a beautiful well-lit white-sand road with shops on one side. On the other side of this strip, past the windbreakers, was a miracle of a beach with its incredible view of mountains and open sea. The beach was the cerulean blue we had only ever seen in postcards, our hotel room was a native styled bungalow complete with mosquito nets on the beds and moss-covered statues in the gardens.

That first evening, we swam in the sunset as it dipped into the warm sea, and then utterly content, we sat on the beach with cool pinacoladas and watched the moon as it cast its silver light on the waves. We were incredibly lucky - it had been pouring with monsoon rains for the whole week until the day we had arrived!

The next day was sheer bliss. We found a guide to take us around the islands, and between a warm sun and incredibly clear blue waters, we sat in a small bangka (a boat with bamboo balances on each side, like tiny catamarans) and were taken to the best spots to go snorkelling. The underwater world left us speechless with wonder, with its display of corals and tropical fish, all brightly coloured and curious of their observers. The three of us spent hours in the water, pointing at the different varieties of fish, marine plants, corals and just stalking fish in their own world.

We then were taken to an island that gleamed white in the sun - its sand was actually crushed shell and coral. We drank coconut juice in the shade of the trees and dove into the waters which were as blue and clear as if we were in a swimming pool.

Back in our hotel, we spent our hours napping, reading, or just sitting out on our veranda. Ken continued his foray into the world of Filipino food, and was immensely pleased with everything he tried - halo-halos (ice kuchangs), cornsilog (a meal with corned beef, egg and fried rice), sweet barbeque, hotdogs...

But what impressed us the most was that we actually got him to eat "balot" - pickled duck egg with a half-formed duck inside! The locals showed him how to eat it with salt and vinegar, but I had to buy him a drink after that in way of apology.

To cap our experience, our flight back to Manila was nothing short of hilarious. First of all, Soups and I watched in disbelief as our plane taxied to the airport where we waiting to board, and its wings passed OVER our roof as it parked! As we boarded, we all hoped that this time they would turn the airconditioning on. You know what they say about being careful what you wish for? Well, sure enough, they turned it on, and the ensuing condensation in the plane caused it to be filled with fog so thick we couldn't even see the air hostesses do their safety demonstrations! We were giggling the entire way to Manila.

We would spend 2 days in Manila before heading home to Canberra.

Cheers,
A rather darker-skinned Kim

La Vida Loca in Los Baños

2006-08-04T19:33:00.000-07:00

Our last country on the list - the wonderful archipaelago of the Philippines. We arrived late in the evening, where my cher pere was waiting to take us home to my hometown of Los Baños (a little university town 2 hours from Manila). Los Baños is known for its hot springs and the University of the Philippines where Supriya and I had studied together. As my father started grilling me about my French (he speaks it fluently), Soups immediately started pointing out places, traditions, norms and recounting the way of life to Ken.

Ken says he has never seen food advertised so much. It's true - Filipinos love their food, and it set the theme for our crazy 2 days in Los Baños.

My parents had prepared a feast for us - fried bananas for breakfast, then later my mom's world-famous spaghetti, my dad's mutton biryani and chops, desserts, fruits galore...

We are also now well stocked with skin-whitening soap after Mom read my blog on how dark we had become.

We squeezed Ken into a tricycle (a motorbike with a passenger carriage on the side) and took him to our university, where we first stopped at our old Development Communication college building. To our amazement, the staff still remembered us, and immediately beckoned to a group of young'uns who turned out to be the latest members of our old academic club, and who greeted us enthusiastically and all knew of our exploits during our days at uni! It was incredibly bizzare.

We took our leave and proceeded to take Ken on an "essential food" tour of the town, stopping at our old haunts, and introducing him to our memories. We hired a jeepney for a joy ride around the large campus, and revisited Supriya's old home at the foot of the mountain Maria Makiling, visited the International Rice Research Institute where both our fathers and my brother later worked. We walked around the university buildings, pointing out that this was the lab where Soups cried quietly as we learned how to dissect toads, that was the building where we spent hours boiling in the summer heat studying physics and maths, there was where we filmed our movies for our media requirements, that was the farm where I got ankle-deep in cow manure while taking bovine rectal temperatures - all part of a day's studies!

In the evenings I sat out on the porch with my parents, talking, laughing, exchanging travel stories and catching up. There really is nothing like home, is there?

On a Thursday morning, we hired a van and a driver to take us to Manila, where we caught a tiny plane which would take us to the island paradise of Boracay.

This would be the last beach trip - for a while.
Kim

United in Yangon

2006-08-02T17:46:00.000-07:00

You cannot imagine our surprise as we sat at the Bangkok airport waiting for our plane, when Ken's parents Nak and Amara Perera casually strolled up to us and picked our jaws off the floor. We had been expecting to meet up with them in Yangon, but they had cleverly caught a flight out of Australia that connected with ours! So a full 5 hours before we had expected to see them, we were busy catching up on their news, explaining our overly deep suntans and Ken's knee. But after 90 days of having been away from them and home, the extra time with them was glorious. It was as though home had found us.

Together we followed the rains to Yangon, where another family reunion took place as Soups raced to hug her dad where he stood waiting to greet her, his future inlaws, and me.

We piled into a chauffered van and took our first good look at Yangon. Wet and green with the monsoon, it is a small city on the verge of being overrun by the jungle. Wide roads, little traffic, well-fed stray dogs. Locals dressed in lungis (like long sarongs), faces smeared with the yellow paste of the root tanaka (they use it as a sunblock and face cream), and chewing pan. Buddhist monks making their morning rounds collecting alms in their big bowls. The city had a quiet and softly-paced air about it.

Everyone drives right-hand vehicles on the right side of the road. Let me try to make that clearer. Car like in Australia. Drive on side like in America. Passengers freak out. This is the result of a high profile fortune teller's advice. Apparently this also accounts for why the political capital was moved to a different city.

The locals are polite and courteous to a fault - they don't even have a word for "no"! We learned that although Myanmar has vast resources in gemstones and precious metals, there is a crime rate of nearly 0%. We started to wonder why. Then we passed by a large government slogan that included the following creed: "Crush all internal and external destructive elements as the common enemy." With such strong language as that, we asked no further questions.

We suffered terribly from too much food. We nearly swooned with rapture over the variety, tastes and sheer quantity of the food, and then nearly swooned for real from the pain of overindulgence. Our host at the inn, a kind Mr. Manocha, took it as his personal duty to keep our plates topped up with every delicacy he could think of.

We walked through the Swedagon temple and marvelled at the sheer flamboyance, luxury and multitude of gold-painted, gilded, carved and decorated images of Buddha, with 20 tonnes of real gold crowning the dome of the central pagoda.
We studied the natural and processed forms of the nation's mined riches at the Gem Museum which is housed on the top floor of a 4-storey building. The remaining 3 stories were dedicated to jewellery stalls where we could buy anything from everyday accessories to the 'let's-rent-an-armoured-car' variety. We immediately set to the task of shopping in earnest for particular items for Supriya, to prepare for the upcoming wedding. After 2 days of intense searching, studying, criticizing, (occassionaly capturing and dragging Ken and myself back into stores as we tried to escape), comparing, and in general obtaining a very good education in precious stones, the wedding shopping was done.

The first night of our stay, we went to a grand buffet dinner held at a magnificent golden restaurant designed as an oriental boat floating on the lake. Amazed at our surroundings, we were further stunned at the guestlist which included half the diplomatic corps and UN FAO personnel with whom Dr. Chaudary worked! Practically all conversations at our dinner tables started with "your excellency"!

The Australian ambassador turned out to be a fellow Canberran, and he invited us to his home for a barbeque. We accepted, and spent a wonderful evening with good food and great company, learning as much as we could about life as a diplomat in Myanmar.

Now, Manila. Ken thinks he isn't capable of eating another bite. We'll see if the Philippines has anything to do about that.

But for now, dear friends, home is only a few sleeps away.

Cheers,
Kim

Tanned in Thailand

2006-07-28T07:05:00.000-07:00

There is no way any of you will recognise us now - we three have turned a wonderful shade of charcoal after all the sun, sand and lots and lots of beaches!

We are in Thailand, where everyone in Thailand is currently wearing yellow to celebrate the King's coronation anniversary. As per our predictions, we are in shopping and food heaven! Our first few days here were spent exploring the amazing markets of Bangkok. We have had to buy another suitcase just to accommodate the amount of shopping we have done. Ken had his first Coca-Cola served to him in a plastic bag with a straw, and later came face to face with the same shirt he was wearing which he had proudly bought on sale in France. Naturally, it was cheaper here.

I have learned that Supriya is a natural at haggling. I however still need lessons.

I have also learned that Ken is a huge fan of durian. Oh yeah - the stinky stuff. He has managed to sneak the lethal fruit into all the hotels we have stayed at, ignoring signs that clearly say "NO DURIAN". We in turn have learned to hold our breath for very long periods of time.

El, the traffic here isn't so bad compared to India- you obviously have never been overtaken in traffic on the wrong side of the road by a guy reading a newspaper over the steering wheel. What is surprising though is the number of taxis that refuse to use the meter.

After a few days in Bangkok, we took a three-hour busride to the town of Rayong which had fabulous beaches, and not many tourists. Well, apart from us and the hundreds of Germans there.

We stayed at a fabulous resort right along the beachfront and spent most of our evenings in the pools, ignoring all the signs that said the pools were closed past 7 pm. We probably offended every rule-abiding German there, but that didn't bother us.

We walked around the local town and bought mountains of fresh fruit from the markets - longan, rambutan, lanzones, santol, atis (none of us know their names in English or Thai so we call them by what we know in Hindi, Singalese and Tagalog).

We looked into the overpriced island excursions the hotel was offering, and decided to make our own way to the Koh Samet island. This turned into an adventure because to get to the boat that would take us there, we had to do a monkey climb over/alongside/through 4 other boats before getting onto the right one.

The island we visited had all the touristy essentials - swimsuit shops, food, internet and a beach. We parked ourselves on beach chairs, and watched the parade of locals offer us food, massages, hair braiding, tattooing, musical instruments, fruit and coconut juice. In front of us, the beach was alive with jet skis, speedboats, paraspeedboats (whatever you call the parachutes being pulled around by speedboats), kayaks, and a handful of people swimming. A point of interest - only the tourists seem to wear sarongs. Hmmm.

While Soups and I tried to survive lunch (it was a life-altering experience, as we came close to death by chilli), Ken joined an impromptu game of beach soccer with the locals, and left exhausted, happy, and with a lot less skin on his knee. We are considering banning him permanently from sport of any kind.

Now several hundred shades darker, refreshed and relaxed, we are back in Bangkok for our last night in Thailand before we head off tomorrow for Yangon in Myanmar.

In 11 days, we will be home.

Til then,
Kim

Indelible Delhi

2006-07-24T03:30:00.000-07:00

We flew from the European version of summer straight into the monsoon heat of India. Flying from Budapest, we arrived in New Delhi at midnight where it was 35 degrees celcius.

Within seconds, Ken was in culture shock - from the inefficiency of the baggage handlers at the airport (where one guy worked on the bags and 20 others milled around), the heat, humidity and smells of the monsoon summer nights, and the incredibly bizzare driving habits of the locals. Everything we learned in driving school didn't apply. Vehicles could have complete horn-based conversations with each other, where beeping could mean anything from "watch out, I am behind you", "hurry up" or "look out for that cow/goat/pig/camel/donkey/horse/dog/person"... No one stays in any particular lane while driving, as they all drive between 2 lanes while deciding which one would be better in the long run. It was like watching a school of fish swim together at such close range and still not hit one another.

We stayed with Supriya's sister Priyanka in her new home in Noida, just outside the perimiter of Delhi. She, husband Toshak and daughters Druhi and Savya had moved into a palatial apartment in a massive complex of highrise apartments that were designed like Caesar's Palace in Vegas complete with pool, stream and gardens for the children. Soups' mum had made the trip from her hometown to visit, and Soups was able to spend quality time with her family. Pinky and Toshak gave us access to their car and driver during our stay and we were thankful not to have to catch the public transport which looked rather uncomfortable - most of the buses we saw were crammed to the windows!

After the hostelling and city-hopping of Europe, this was pampered luxury - learning Hindi from Druhi adn Savya, being taken to all the best places to eat and shop, having spiced indian tea in the afternoons, chewing pan in the markets... Okay, fine, it was really Ken and Soups chewing pan in the markets - how was I supposed to know that you weren't supposed to swallow it immediately but chew it for hours?

At a mall, Ken and I watched Pirates of the Carribean 2 at the cinemas, where the security checks were more thorough than at the airports (they didn't let Ken keep his candy), where the movie started as soon as the doors opened to let the audience filter in, the projector died 10 minutes into the show and they had to start all over again, and where there was even ain intermission break which seemed like a practical joke because 2 minutes after the audience filed out for a popcorn refill and bathroom break, they started the movie again without us.

And Pa, if you're reading this, the trick with rolling a Coke bottle down the stairs to heckle the audience wouldn't work anymore - they've carpeted everything. Just so you know, I did consider it.

Early on a Thursday morning, Ken and I were packed into a car to visit Agra, home city of the Taj Mahal, while Soups would stay in Delhi to spend time with her family. We couldn't have picked a more interesting day - the skies were heavy with the promise of a monsoon storm, and the trip to Agra would be 4 hours each way. Sure enough, as soon as we reached Agra, the heavens let loose and within minutes the roads were flooded! The rickshaw drivers' bicycle pedals were barely above water! But we figured it was better than a blazing hot Indian summer day, so we parked, forged out into the rain, found a rickshaw and an enthusiastic guide and proceeded to get fleeced like the tourists we were. Did you know that tickets to see the Taj Mahal are 20 rupees for locals and 750 for tourists? You read right. *sigh* Times like this we really wished we could speak the language and fake our way through that.

The Taj Mahal was solemn and beautiful in the rain, and we were spared the burnt feet I remembered so clearly from my last visit with my brother and dad. Our guide was very entertaining and informative, showing us all the optical illusions and special features of the incredibly symmetrical palace. He took us to the artisan's quarter where he showed us how the local craftsmen still cut the gemstones and fashioned them in the same manner they did in the 16th century. Ken haggled like a pro and purchased some beautiful pieces of art for a much better deal than I thought he could get away with.

Lessons learned: don't go anywhere without a local, and always always always haggle.

Further lesson learned: After purchasing something, do NOT go into other stores and do comparison checks. Really, no one needs to go through that!

Next up, Bangkok!

Cheers,
Kim

Gatecrashing at Skalice

2006-07-17T23:58:00.000-07:00

Hands stained with the juices of wild strawberries and cherries, knees scraped and bruised from tumbling in hills and fields, legs bitten by every type of insect (and some plants), allergies at an alltime high - we had the time of our lives!

While we were studying French in Dijon, we met Josef, a dynamic Czech chemist who is bent on improving the world (the same guy who gave us a tour of the Burgundian surroundings). He told us about a work camp he was arranging in his hometown of Skalice, where he was getting an international group of volunteers together to teach the children English and do some conservation work in the area as well.

We couldn't pass it up, so although Soups, Ken and I are still horribly sick (she's coughing her lungs out, he is dying from hayfever and I have completely lost my voice), we decided to gatecrash.

From Prague, we hopped on a train and 5 hours later we were in Skalice. The team of volunteers consisted of a lovely and lively close-knit bunch of people: Dave from England, Katya from Russia, Brankica from Serbia, Andrea from the US, Adrien from France, Kristin from Belgium/Sweden, Leena from Finland, and Eva (1), Eva (2) and Marketa from Czech Rep who were our translators. And bringing up the Australian gatecrashing contingent we had Supriya, Kim and Ken, representing Nigeria, India, the Philippines and Sri Lanka as well. Josef, Adela, Eva and Olga were the Czech team leaders, arranging all the activities.

We were lodged in an old mill with 5 stories, bats in the loft, and a river outside. The place belongs to Josef's father who runs an ecologically friendly electronics recycling plant on the premises. The village is small and incredibly gorgeous. The children are friendly and down to earth, even as they ride fancy speedbikes and have better mobile phones than we do.

In the mornings we would split up into different groups and head off to the nearby towns and villages to spend the morning with the local kids. We would teach the kids basic English, they would teach us basic Czech, we would play games, and get them used to the idea of a world outside of their country.

Ken became a god as soon as he got the soccer ball out. The local boys immediately took to him, and their soccer skills AND English improved dramatically as they learned words that were of utmost importance to them - PASS! KICK! NOOOO!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??? GOAL!!!! The boys took him to their homes and showed him around the town. Now Ken is seriously considering joining more work camps in the future.

In the afternoons we became the children. The camp organisers Josef and Adela arranged a myriad of activities for us.

We visited Josef's parents' home where we tried our hand at weilding the scythe, took a nature walk through fields and hills that were worthy of being scenes in The Sound of Music, climbed haybales, and skulked through overgrown thornbushes that looked like natural hobbit houses, picking and eating berries as we went along.

We took a tour of the famous brewery in Cerna Hora (Montenegro/Black Mountain) where we learned about the beer making process, and naturally we insisted on testing the beer for quality control. Many bottles later at the pub, the international group of beer testers declared that yes, Czech beer is the best in the world.

We spent an afternoon helping a local with his garden, and in return he gave us free rein on his cherry trees and blackcurrant bushes, and roasted kranskies and sausages on skewers over a smoky woodfire.

We visited an amazing cave which had an increcible pillar formation that looked like a witch. We took a cablecar ride through the mountains and gazed down into the abyss formed through the mountains.

On a Friday night under an almost full moon, the local firemen threw a party for us near the soccer field where we held our classes, and we danced the night away under the stars.

Our farewells were poignant and heart-felt. Although we had only spent 5 days with the group, they had incorporated us into their group.

Early Sunday morning, we boarded the train to Bratislava, then to Budapest, where the next day we would catch a flight to India, then to Thailand, Myanmar, and the Philippines.

We have started our journey home.

Cheers,
Kim

PS. After gobbling a hundred cherries off the trees, Ken only then noticed that everyone else was inspecting each cherry for holes before eating them. He refuses to think about how many 'inhabitants' he has unwittingly eaten. Now he inspects each cherry for 10 minutes and gets others to confirm his findings. Methinks he's paranoid now.

Prague for a Day

2006-07-14T05:09:00.000-07:00

Prague is spectacular - a bizzare mix of the old and ultra modern.

We did not have much opportunity to see this city though, because as soon as we found our hostel, Ken and Supriya conked out for some much needed sleep.

I took a tramride through the city and walked along the river where I found a floating cafe on the docks. I had a cappuccino while watching the sunset over the river.

I returned to the hostel to wake Soups up for a walk. We purchased tickets for a Walking Tour of Prague - this tour specialised in the ghostly haunts of legends and history of Prague. But it was not meant to be (much to Supriya's not-so-secret relief), because as we raced to catch the last tram to the rendezvous point, the tramdriver looked us in the eye - and drove off!

We turned our tickets into a contribution into the Prague economy, and took a stroll instead. We found Prague to be exquisite all lit up at night, that they served really good coffee, and that there are thousands of spiders in the trees and bridges all over the place!

But we are weary of city-hopping, and yearn for the quiet of the countryside. Even back home, a weekend in Sydney would have us recuperating all week! And here we were, cross, out of sorts and exhausted, leaping from one city to another.

The very next day, we headed off to the train station to find out if we could get a ride to Skalice. This in itself was an ordeal. While this may not be a fair statement, we found that the tourism officials we dealt with were all abrupt and not very helpful. They have big signs on their windows saying "We do not speak English". But we found a trick - we talked to them in French. Immediately they tried to compromise, and would speak to us in English instead!

We ended up in Skalice that afternoon, where a fantastic adventure awaited us.

Kim

A Fleeting View of Vienna

2006-07-14T04:45:00.000-07:00

We caught the train from Venice to Vienna, and dined in the restaurant car which boasted the best view in the world - the forests and mountains all blurred past us as we dined in style. The food also looked fantastic - until we tried it. The goulash tasted like an undetermined mix of veggies, and the veggies almost killed me with a salt overdose. But ah well - the view was fantastic!

Finding a place to stay in Vienna was another ordeal - we arrived late at night and the initial hostel I had called had not kept our reservations. So they sent us off to another place which was the antithesis of our idea of a hostel - no elevator, kick out times, curfews, and we were all split up into male and female dorms. All of this after 2 hours of dragging our bags around on cobblestoned streets - we were not very happy campers. But I repeat... "ah well."

We took the next day going around and seeing the sights. I surprised myself by being able to interpret a German map, which we used to find Chinese food. I had a Vienna coffee, served at an Italian cafe. The world really is becoming a huge melting pot, huh? Ken met a dog in a clothes store who now owns his soccer ball. We looked at the churches and watched street performers in the city squares. There was an incredibly aggravating act where a man dressed like a white statue made bird or monkey screeches non-stop. He screeched if you didn´t give him money. If you did, he screeched his thanks to you. At one stage we heard a bang (a car had backfired) but we checked anyway to see if the bird man was still alive or if someone had tried to take him out. No luck, he was still screeching.

I would have explored the rest of Vienna except for one little hitch - I got some mysterious flu-like bug and after the first day of sightseeing, I stuck to my bed and tried to sleep it off while Ken and Soups saw more of the city and watched the final match of the world cup.

Ken has officially taken responsibility for France losing the World Cup, since it seems that whichever team he backs ends up losing.

The next day we dragged ourselves out of bed - this time Soups had caught the mysterious flu-like bug (we blame Ken for sharing our water bottles and passing on his sore throat though with us the germs have mutated with bizzare effects), and caught a bus to Prague.

On we went...
Kim

Venice

2006-07-10T07:12:00.000-07:00

Venice is poetry, with a very modern and touristy twist.

First of all, allow me to describe our accommodation. We lodged at a campsite which was more of a holiday resort actually, with restaurants, pool and bar all conveniently outside our cabin door. Most of the lodgers were fellow travellers, eager to swap stories and outdo each other in table tennis. Anything else needed to create a party atmosphere? Methinks not...

A shuttle bus operated every hour to take tourists into the islands of Venice, so we hopped on…

Venice is absolutely captivating. There are waterways everywhere, and boats are the only form of transport anywhere within the city – the only other option was to walk, which we did. We piled onto the bridges and took pictures of the gondolas which were laden with tourists taking pictures of us on the bridges.

We refused to feed the pigeons, or get onto a gondola. Instead we sat along the water's edge and watched the fish and the crabs play along the sunken steps.

We drove Ken insane by stopping into every store to check out their merchandise, and compensated by taking him to a restaurant where we had the perfect Italian coffee, served by a waiter from Bangladesh.

We found art stores galore, where they featured their hand-crafted glassworks, or lace, or paintings. I found the store where Tricia and Ray had bought me a mask, and was happy that our footsteps had crossed all the way across the world.
At a different store, a mask maker demonstrated his masks to us and even offered to show me how he made them after hours. Unfortunately the offer also came with a slightly lecherous look and a suggestion of wine and perhaps dinner, so I had to politely refuse.

I found a museum dedicated to Vivaldi, and spent a happy hour sitting there just listening to his music. We took the vaporettas (ferrys) through the major canals and marveled at the old houses and hidden gardens that we spotted.

We were also privileged to see Venice in the rain, which is spectacular although we can only admit to it now. The venetian downpour found us at the bus stop, sans shelter, where we awaited our bus to take us to the train station, and from there, to Vienna.

The travels continue...
Kim

PS An interesting anecdote - earlier in our travels as we learned French, our English went on the decline, which is the only reason Soups could have made the rather bizzare statement that she wanted to buy an Italian shoe. Ken and I teased her mercilessly for days about it, until lo and behold! In Venice, her slipper fell apart as she ran to catch the bus. So yes, she hobbled around Venice on one bare foot until she could find a new shoe. She had to buy its partner though.

Four Cities in Four Days

2006-07-04T07:12:00.000-07:00

This must be the craziest of adventures yet. It started out with Supriya wanting to see the French countryside by road, so we rented a car and drove away from Dijon on a bright Saturday afternoon. Destination: Nice.

Now how did Geneva and Grenoble get caught up in this trip, you might ask? Well…

You see, on the map, Geneva DID seem to be close by. So we thought we would take a quick detour and stop in the City of Time and Chocolates. The drive through the mountains was breathtaking, but unfortunately time waits for no man no matter how fast he drives, and we reached Geneva late in the afternoon after all the shops were closed. They take weekends pretty seriously in Europe.

We walked around, and were there to witness the streets spring to life as Portugal won their match and everyone took to the streets in their cars, making as much noise as possible. I had seen this same phenomenon in quiet Dijon when France won their match the previous week. Ken immediately wanted to get to our hotel to watch Brasil lose, and was in a foul mood all evening, though who can blame him? Soups and I went out to a restaurant to get some takeaway food, and were stunned when the chef came out with our orders in a crate, all dishes covered, with cutlery and chilled beers and instructions to bring the dishes back. Talk about going the extra mile!

We spent Sunday (Day 2 of the roadtrip) on the road headed towards Nice as per the original plan. As soon as we hit the city centre of Grenoble, our car decided it had had enough, and died. It was a very considerate death though, because it rolled to a stop into a free parking spot opposite an open kebab shop where the owner kindly let me call the emergency number from his phone. Within an hour, a mechanic was on the spot and was directing us to his garage where he kindly made arrangements for a new car the next day, a hotel for us to stay the night, and accurate directions on how to get to Nice faster. After a rather lengthy wait for our taxi (yes, 2 hours is rather long to wait in any country) we were just happy to get to our hotel where Ken and I waited til midnight and then tackled Soups with a birthday hug. We had hoped to celebrate her birthday in Nice instead of spending it on the road, but she was happy.

Day 3 of the roadtrip saw us on the highway towards Nice. We drove through beautiful sunshine, refreshing rain, and even an interesting hailstorm, and reached Nice in the evenings. We found our hostel and I groaned as I saw it and realized I had been duped by clever photography and a rather poetic writeup on the internet. The place was a dive overrun with Americans. We stowed our bags, returned the car and immediately hightailed it to the Nice city centre where we found yet more disappointment – a very rocky beach with no waves but loads of lobster-like humans, too many Americans, no locals (they had obviously run away) and a rather sad and worn atmosphere. But, intent on celebrating Supriya’s birthday in style, we walked to Old Nice where the streets were turned into outdoor cafes. I noticed that there didn’t seem to be any music to complete the ambience, and on cue, a string quartet started up. Ah, perfection… We found the best restaurant and whiled our time away with kir royal and excellent seafood.

Day 4 of the trip saw us on a train to Venice where we hoped to improve upon our adventures. Even this seemed to be fraught with misfortune – our train carriage had very erratic air-conditioning and doors that opened at their own whim, causing lots of panic as passengers heaving bags up the steps found a bag or arm jammed between doors that refused to reopen.

But everything would change once we arrived in Venice.

Ciao,
Kim

A Day in the Burgundian Sun

2006-06-29T02:46:00.000-07:00

Between all our homework, assignments and studying for exams, Soups and I were able to steal a Saturday and tour the environs of Dijon in style. Through conversing with more of the hapless natives during lunch breaks, we had made friends with Josef, a chemist from the Czech Republic. He invited us to join him on a roadtrip through the surrounding towns of Dijon, and we immediately agreed.

Saturday morning was bright and gorgeous, and we counted our blessings as it had been raining throught the week. We piled into a car with Josef and his friends Radamir and Yfgeny, also chemists, from Ukraine. Josef was organising a large tour for his friends at a later date, and so we were the recon tour for his planned itinerary and we were all happy to be guinea pigs.

Supriya tried her hand at navigating, and we were constantly in shock over how close everything was. On an Australian map, two points on a map are usually a fair distance away. So as per habit, Soups would find the next town, and then sit back and relax, expecting at least a 30 minute interval. 30 seconds later, we had already driven through the town! It took some getting used to.

I saw a herd of wild deer as we drive passed a forest.

First stop was an ancient monastery located 15 minutes away from Dijon. There was a herd of curious cows watching us from a paddock, and when Josef ran along the path, we almost expired from laughter as the entire herd broke into a run and kept pace with him like a pack of loyal and happy dogs!

We bought a wheel of the monastery's famous cheese, which Yfgeny thought smelled awful. Thankfully, the cheese tasted better than it smelled.

We stopped in the old and picturesque town of Beaune where we sipped coffee, walked through the street markets (as you can guess, the guys had to tear us away from the markets) and visited the ancient gothic church, which exhibited a beautiful ancient tapestry depicting stories from the Bible.

Then on to the next stop, which was an old town with dirt roads and the finest wine cellars in the Burgundy area! We found the most famous one that specialised in wine lade from plums, and sampled the different types of wine they offered, while conversing animatedly with the proprieter. We left with a nice bottle of wine made from a melange of red fruits to go with the cheese. We also left with the distinct impression that our french seemed to have improved in direct proportion to the amount of wine imbibed!

Then, back in the car and this time the drive was a bit longer - we were headed to the largest lake in the heart of Burgundy, where the guys were eager to swim. After an hour's drive filled with stories and laughter, we arrived at the lake in the early afternoon to find that it was surrounded by a fabulous campsite. Due to a summer sports carnival being held at that time, everywhere we looked there were different activities of leisure - couples rode tandem bikes, families were playing in the lake's clear waters, picnic blankets were spread out everywhere. Up on a hill, there was an area for freestyle rock climbing, down-hill skating, and even a course where dogs were being trained to be lifeguards for their disabled owners. On the lake, canoers and kayakers were constantly tumbling each other into the waters, and a guy in his 80s was showing off his waterskiing skills.

The lake was more like a calm beach. Slightly pebbly and incredibly clean, the ground gently gave way to the water, and a veritable genius had placed park benches directly on the water's edge. To quote our friend Rupi, "Best idea everrrrr!!!!" Soups and I sat there in the sun, with our wine, cheese and local baguettes, swishing our feet in the little waves caused by the wakes of the speedboats while the guys jumped in for a swim.

Life doesn't get better than this.

Bien amicalement,
Kim

Ah, Paris

2006-06-21T05:25:00.000-07:00

Ah, Paris in the springtime!

Okay, it was more like end of spring and early summer, from the way we wilted in the sun. But it was Paris, and it was lovely!

As soon as class was out last Friday, Supriya and I raced to the station and took the TGV train to Paris. We arrived mid-afternoon, and after a few false starts with the Metro, we figured out the subways and made our way to Alfortville outside of Paris, where my aunt Elisabeth has an apartment. She is a French lady who became a family friend from our time in the Philippines. She had arranged for us to have the keys for the weekend while she was away in the countryside, and we were thrilled to have a place to stay.

Friday afternoon was spent exploring the environs of Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart Cathedral) which is perched on a hillside overlooking the entire city. We sat on the steps and watched the sunset along with the crowds, listening to people play their guitars and drums, watching people walk their dogs, take pictures, play soccer on the greens... Paris felt comfortable.

Saturday was a busy day for sightseeing - first stop was breakfast at a nearby brasserie, where the waiter sat down with us for a nice long chat and gave us heaps of advice on where to go for a day trip in Paris. We have found that if you speak the language or make the effort, French waiters are actually very nice, and often converse with us.

We went to visit Notre Dame, and went inside the cathedral while there was a mass in progress. Soups and I spent half the time gaping at the architecture and the other half shushing all the other tourists, who kept forgetting they were in a church.

For lunch we turned our noses up at the overpriced baguettes they were offering to tourists, and headed for the local Subway fastfood joint. We then took a stroll along the Seine, and made our way to the Museé D'Orsay. The Museé D'Orsay did not disappoint - we saw the Impressionists' work, and were happy. It being a smaller museum than the Louvre, we figured we could see a larger percent of the exhibitions than try to rush through the Louvre. No, the Louvre is for a different trip, a different time.

Later that afternoon we went to the rendezvous point to pick Ken up, as his Contiki tour took him through Paris. We arrived at the area a few minutes early, so we decided to do the Parisian thing and sit at a cafe, sipping coffee and people-watching. Soups then went on to meet him at his hotel, but came back sans Ken - we were at the wrong spot to meet him! Place de Clichy, Porte de Clichy - it can happen to anyone! Ah well. The right place was 'nearby', said a taxi driver, who laughed his off at us when we asked if he could give us a ride there, seeing as how we were now running late. After thirty minutes of speed-walking uphill, we decided we should have ignored his snickering and just gotten in the darned taxi!

But we found Ken and were all happily reunited. He's deeply tanned, rather bald from what seems to be a haircut accident - although he says he paid someone to do it - and full of stories about the amazing trip he has been on. He would be able to spend the weekend with us, much to Supriya's joy. He then went to introduce Soups to his friends. As I waited for them, a guy on a motorcycle mistook me for someone he knew, and parked his bike and came over to say hi. As soon as he realised his mistake, he proceeded to chat with me until Soups and Ken returned - by that time I had a great introduction into his history, the taxes in France (the government charges heft taxes on any inheritances), where would be the best place to open a business (Luxembourg), and he gave us fantastic recommendations on where to find good French and Italian food in Paris!

The three of us then headed off to dinner, and then to see the Arch du Triumphe and the Tour Eiffel – which we saw at night and which was all the more magical for it. Every hour, the tower would explode into a frenzy of twinkling and sparkling lights, causing rapturous sighs from the already enraptured crowds. We were not prepared for the sheer size of the tower – we climbed up to the first viewing deck because we were too chicken to go any higher.

Going back home was not so pleasant though – we found out the hard way that the Metro closes at night. We learned this while we were being locked in for the night in the subway. It certainly explained why everyone had started sprinting towards the exits! But a nice official interpreted our horrified looks correctly and showed us where to find taxis. Half an hour and several helpful strangers later, we were able to find a taxi driver who wouldn’t ignore us, and were safely back at the apartment in bed by 2 am.

Sunday was a quiet day in Paris – everything closes down. But we found a nice restaurant where Ken and I tried the snails while Supriya looked on in horror. As we sat there in the restaurant, we saw the largest group of people on a rollerblade tour of the city – there must have been thousands of them, fit and healthy, silently rolling past us on that beautiful scorching day.

We parted ways again in the afternoon when Soups and I boarded our train to head back to Dijon and to our homework. We will meet up again in 2 weeks time once our French classes are done, and from then will continue our travels.

Today is the first day of summer in France, and there is a musical festival happening tonight in Dijon city centre. We will investigate - AFTER we finish our homework!

Abientot, mes amis!
Kim

French Lessons

2006-06-09T07:40:00.000-07:00

Bonjour mes amies!

First of all, a huge CONGRATULATIONS to Soumitra for becoming a proud dad! I was waiting on tenterhooks these past few weeks for news, and it's a healthy baby boy! Congratulations again!

This naturally gives me good reason to go out on the town and celebrate with some nice burgundy wine hehehe...

It is day 5 of our french lessons in Dijon and when I am not in mental chaos, I am loving every minute of it. Supriya and I have made some slight modifications to our study schedule. We wake up early and walk or bus it to our classes, where we study grammar and vocabulary from 9am to 11am. Then we hit the local cafeteria, which is laid out buffet style and have interesting meals. Supriya was thoroughly enjoying one dish until someone asked her if she liked the rabbit. That was the end of that. Needless to say, I happily finished the rabbit, which was very nice indeed.

In the afternoons, we have 2-hour lectures on literature or history - done completely in French. At first we tackled these in an effort to improve our comprehension skills, but have since decided to boycott these lectures for reasons of self preservation. There is only so much you can do to stay awake in a lecture about some playwright in the 17th century without inflicting self injury or dying of boredom.

Instead, along with some fellow friends and classmates, we use that time to go to the library and watch french movies without any subtitles. This can be a challenge, and often we have to stop the movie and have a quick pow-wow about a phrase or word or just what the heck was going on.

We also hop on the bus and go into town, which is a 5 minute busride through the narrow streets of Dijon. In the city centre (Centre ville), we get into endless adventures and conversations with locals, bugging them and testing our skills on them.

To our delight, we have found that the locals are incredibly helpful to foreigners who at least attempt to use French. Random strangers have helped us find the correct bus stops, give us directions, tell us what we are looking at through our bus window, and in general, improve our french. A waiter helped us learn the french words for items in the restaurant, and even tested us after our meal. Today while waiting in line at the post office, Soups and our friend Suki were debating about the pronounciation of a particular word. After a herculean effort at resisting, the lady behind them couldn't take it anymore and butted into their conversation to correct their pronounciation and settle the matter. We get this all the time, and love it!

One memorable evening was spent at the supermarket, which turned out to be the size of a little city where you could buy anything from fish to furniture. After loading up with essentials for the whole month, we realised that we had missed the last bus in the area, and there were no taxis in sight. Soups got onto the sidewalk and stuck her thumb out. In the 2 seconds that followed while the rest of us were groaning and trying to convince her that hitchhiking was a bad and unsafe idea, an incredibly nice old gentleman (a professor of cardiology) pulled over, hopped out, took our bags and arranged them in his trunk, and then proceeded to pile us into his car and drove us home!

However I have to add that we do get constant reality checks. I tried to return the locals' generosity by helping an old gentleman who was looking rather lost as we all got off the bus one afternoon. I asked if he was lost. He assumed I was lost as well. I was able to successfully get the assistance of a local (my entire objective) to point him in the right direction, and had to suffer the indignity of HIM asking the local to give ME directions to where I wanted to go... I take solace in knowing that in a very roundabout way, I was at least able to help.

Oh, just for the record, it should be noted that within 1 day of our arrival, Supriya got hit on by some random french guy who pulled over onto the sidewalk specifically to talk to her and ask if she would go out with him. No matter what they say about the french accent, unfortunately, sleazy is still sleazy all over the world.

Next weekend Soups and I will head off to meet Ken for a weekend in Paris, when Ken finishes his tour of Europe. A family friend Elisabeth has kindly given us access to her appartment, and we are reallly looking forward to the adventure.

More news later!
Kim

Dijon at last

2006-06-04T03:59:00.000-07:00

Bonjour, mes amies!

After more than a month on the road, Soups and I have finally been able to unpack our bags as we arrived at our home for the next month - l'Universite de Bourgogne (University of Burgundy).

I am writing this blog very slowly and painfully from a local internet cafe. The pain involved stems from the french keyboards being completely out of whack - kinda like what I did to Sean Cavanagh's keyboard one time. So Soups and I are concentrating very hard, as all our touch typing skills are now out the window.

On Saturday morning we caught a flight from Porto to Paris - or at least we thought it would land in Paris. Thus we learned the truth about cheap flights - there's always a catch. We landed in a picturesque town in Beauvais, and had to catch a bus to Paris which was an hour away. What we saw of Paris - from behind bus windows, on the sidewalks lugging bags, and through the metro as we raced to catch our train to Dijon - was beautiful and inspiring. We will definitely be returning for a closer look. But nothing prepared us for the beauty of the rolling green countryside as we hurtled towards Dijon... everything we saw was perfectly green, neat and organised, as though the French would not have a single blade of grass out of place or in a manner that is not aesthetically pleasing! Small clusters of houses dot the countryside, always looking quaint and inspiring pictures of lazy bicycle rides through the soft sunshine. Okay, okay, I will try to stop waxing on the poetic...

The good news so far is that with our 2 semesters of French, we are actualy able to converse, though awkwardly, with the locals. Dijon is a large city but feels like Canberra - homely and comfortable. The university campus is elegant and lovely - we haven't explored yet. We are lodged quite comfortably at the uni ressies, although Supriya is freaking out because now that she owns her own house in Canberra, uni ressies is like a bad dream for her. Ken has started his 2-week crash tour of Europe on the Contiki, and Soups is missing him dreadfully already.

To our dismay, all the supermarkets are closed today so we must wait until tomorrow to stock up on student essentials - pots, pans, 2 minute noodles... Aah, its' all coming back to me now.

Classes begin tomorrow. I am fervently hoping no typing will be involved.

Abiéntot,
Kim

Paradise in Portugal

2006-05-30T13:11:00.000-07:00

Hola everyone,

Portugal is everything we ever dreamed of! Quite truthfully, we'd expected this atmosphere in Spain, but I guess we were in the wrong city in Spain to get this sense of flavour and culture.

Lisbon is all about flavour. The cobblestones are wonky and slippery, and by themselves are fabulous works of art, with the black and white stones weaving into intricate designs that catch your eye. The air is thick with the smell of grilled fish, the dappled sunlight warms us as we sit at cafes sipping sangria and nibbling on bread, olives and cheese... and we swear the musicians are following us. It's like having our own theme music!

I had thought we might struggle with the language here as none of us speak Portuguese, but the locals are surprisingly conversant in English, Spanish, and if all else fails, sign language. Yup, they're used to tourists! Everyone is incredibly friendly. Ken went to get some takeaway from a restaurant, and when he asked for cutlery, they gave him the table cutlery and just asked him to return it later. Strangers take us by the hand at bus stops and show us where to go. A lady was in a rush at a train station, but still took time out to explain the system to us. It's heart-warming.

The hostel we stayed at is in an ancient building with interesting plumbing and creaky lopsided stairs that look like they are made out of melted wax. Although we struggled to get up the stairs with all our bags, we've never been so happy to see a bathroom all to ourselves! Such luxuries in life will never be taken for granted again, especially after Madrid where we had to join the queues of other hostellers. However there is an interesting contraption that looks suspiciously like a toilet crossed with a bidet in our room, and none of us can discern its purpose. For a room with 3 people, somehow the "turn around, close your eyes, hum and hold your breath" rule doesn't appeal.

We rode a bus up to the Castle of Sto Jorge and walked amongst the ramparts of the centuries-old castle. Soups is scared of heights and opted to stay in the courtyards. Ken and I managed to scare ourselves climbing the stairs to the bulwarks and walking through the narrow walkways.

A subway and tram ride later, we were in the coastal area of Belem walking through an ancient monastery of St. Jerome, which was built as thanksgiving for the success of Vasco de Gama's voyage to India. We marvelled at the architecture and the different galleries they had inside. At a coffee stop, we happily discovered pastelles de Belem, a custard tart that is a local speciality.

It's inspiring to be in a city from where great explorers sailed off to find (and not fall off) the edges of the earth. It has such a mixed feel to it, with its population comprising of people from around the world. Our hostel host herself is an Indian from Mozambique, now living in Portugal.

On Wednesday we hopped on a bus and went to the fortified city of Evora, roughly 2 hours from Lisbon. As the city melted away into rolling hills and orchards, our eyes seemed to collectively breathe a sigh of relief. It's nice to get away from architectural clutter once in a while.

Evora was a lovely old city to walk around in. In such a small area, there are an incredible number of churches, chapels, convents and monasteries. We found the rather macabre Chapel of Bones, constructed by the monks to symbolise the fragility of life. Skulls and bones are decoratively used for the columns and walls, and an inscription over the entrance reads "We, whose bones lie here, await yours".

On Thursday we took a 3-hour train ride to Porto, and suffered as we hurtled backwards (bad seating plan) to our next city. We were decidedly nauseous after that. We arrived in Porto by 5 pm, found our hotel, and found that this time the room did come with an ensuite (it just keeps getting better), and with actual walls around the ensuite! Once again, that bidet/toilet contraption features prominently, but we're happy to leave some things undiscovered.

We found the riverside, and dined at a cafe while watching the local kids swim in the river, dry themelves in the sun, and watch the sun set over the city. Porto has much more of a relaxed beach atmosphere which is lovely.

Today we're taking a day off. I will be hopping onto a tour bus to see the sights in a day, whereas Soups and Ken will be spending their last day together for a while.

Tomorrow we head off in separate directions, as Soups and I will head off to Dijon to start our French lessons, and Ken heads off to London to start his Contiki tour.

Hasta luego!
Kim

Viva España

2006-05-28T06:56:00.000-07:00

¡Hola amigos!

¡Nosotros estamos en Madrid! We arrived here on Wednesday morning, exhausted because we had chosen the movie marathon option over sleep on the flight. Bad decision... we got to the hostel at 9 am only to find that the hostel has an 11 am to 2 pm `kick out´ time so they can clean up. Oh, those painful moments of staggering around, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Needless to say, our first day in Madrid was spent sleeping.

The next day, refreshened and armed with my 2 semesters of Spanish, we were ready to conquer the world! Madrid is a beautiful city with old and imposing architecture, wide streets and a very cosmopilitan feel. The sun is strong, everyone is either beautiful or stunning, the locals are helpful to tourists, and there is a lot to see just by walking around. The subway system is fantastic and it´s very easy to get around.

We´ve discovered the delightful spanish drink called sangria, and love the food which is served in small servings - a delight after the heavy oversized meals of America. We have also happily incorporated siestas into our routine - the entire city takes a siesta from 2-6 pm when all the stores close. The city comes alive again at 6, and people go out to party at sunset which is 10 pm.

The only downside is that we have also inhaled about a million cigarettes´ worth in passive smoking. I have suddenly acquired the ability to hold my breath for prolonged periods.

We have walked through the main streets, discovered parks and palatial buildings. We found the Prado museum and spent an afternoon looking at beautiful works of art. We hopped onto a tourbus to try to get a feel for the city, and decided it was more fun to just walk.

Supriya wanted to watch a bullfight, which surprised us because she´s the one who used to sob her eyes out while we dissected frogs in biology. However as we sat there in the nosebleed section of the bullfight arena, I was the one they had to console. While there is a lot of skill and drama involved, I just think it would be a lot fairer if it were just one man versus the bull, instead of a whole gang of colorful matadors tormenting the poor things... All in all, there were 7 bulls that fought, 2 of which were left to fight another day, as they were too young and not `ready´yet. I won´t be going to another one. However, the locals sitting next to us were very friendly and tried to explain things to us, while I tried to interpret. They also offered Supriya some wine from a wineskin (which takes a certain skill to squirt into your mouth), and she did us proud!

On Friday night we went out to party with some friends we´d made at the hostel, and found ourselves in Puerta del Sol, the main nightlife location in Madrid. Ken quickly learned some important phrases: `que guapa´ (how beautiful) and ´¿te gusta bailar? (do you want to dance?) and used them well. Supriya and I had to use `no, gracias, tengo novio´ (no thanks, i have a boyfriend)...

On Saturday we decide on a day trip to the countryside, hopped on a bus to the old city of Toledo, and spent a day walking through the old narrow streets of the fortified city based in the region that is home to Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. It was a magical experience to see the real spanish countryside and walk through an old city with so much history. We found a quiet park which overlooked the hills, and just sat there in the breeze and sunshine, happy to be there and content to sit still for a while.

Back in Madrid, a local told us about the local markets held every Sunday on the La Latina street, so today we went to take a look. The entire street had lovely colourful stalls - these people do not believe in drab, sombre colours! Naturally, we did not leave empty-handed. We are also happy to note that our legs are getting used to hours of walking, so we no longer need as much rest.

Tomorrow we are off to Portugal, where we will be visiting Lisbon and Porto.

Hasta luego!
Kim

New York, New York

2006-05-22T19:39:00.000-07:00

Greetings, all!

We've just spent 3 beautiful days in New York City, and we feel like locals already. Thanks to Ken's research, we found the fabulous Big Apple hostel right in the heart of Times Square! This place at nighttime is breathtaking. Although there are cops everywhere, it's bustling, busy and full of tourists!

Walking through NY streets requires athletic skill- you need to walk briskly and dodge and weave through the constant human traffic. Ken managed to poke some random person in the eye while trying to point something out to us. We have also learned to jaywalk with audacity. Only the tourists obey the "don't walk" signs here...

New York has cleaned up incredibly since I was here last as a kid. Apparently the local government did a massive clean-up in the 90s and arrested anyone caught defacing property. Now the subways don't smell like a urinal, the streets are clean (although the sewers DO steam), there's barely any grafitti, and any unpleasant odours are cleverly masked by strategically placed vendors on every street corner, selling pretzels, hotdogs, roasted nuts and kebabs. I saw one massive rat in the sewer, but even he quickly shufled and disappeared, as though keeping with the effort to make NY look nice and friendly!

We've learned that pretzels here taste like cardboard. But the pizza is divine!

It's truly a place of character and characters. On Friday we went on a walk down Broadway to see if we could heckle Paul Schaeffer from the Letterman Show. Instead we got distracted and ended up at a comedy club watching stand-up comedians. We took a night-time ride of the city in a carriage drawn by a resigned-looking horse named Julius Caesar. His driver tried to both evangelicise us AND sell us onto the merits of George Bush Jr. We talked him into a discounted fare, claiming we were students. It's sort of a truth - we WERE students...

On Saturday we found to our delight that the city had shut down 2 of its main avenues and turned them into market streets! We indulged in extremely hot Thai food, lovely cheap jewelry, and tried something absolutely bizarre: fried Oreos. Oh yeah - they tasted as sinful as they sound.

We were able to meet up with our friend Dan, who had flown over from Iowa just to see us. Soups and I knew him from back in Los Banos where he worked for IRRI as a soil scientist/researcher, and after 6 years it was good to catch up with him and find out how he's been. Ken and Soups were both feeling the cold though, so we didn't overexert ourselves. We caught another comedy club show that night, and it was far superior to the previous night.

On Sunday the four of us proceeded to see the sights in earnest. On the subway, we have watched a group of kids perform street dance, a man create music out of paint buckets and drumsticks, and have been serenaded by a musician on a suprano saxophone playing lovely ballads. So far we have found the official train staff to be rude, but the bums to be friendly. Supriya got her head snapped off for asking directions at the train information booth. And it was a homeless guy named Austin who gave us very detailed directions on which subway passes to purchase, how to get the most value out of them, and how to use the touch-screen kiosks to purchase them. Apparently he became an expert when he used to sleep on the subways.

We visited Ground Zero, and walked around the neighborhood of downtown Manhattan. We took the ferry to Staten Island which provided us with a great view of the Statue of Liberty. We went to the Empire State Building at twilight and waded through throngs of other tourists, to see the city light up before our eyes. We dined on superb Mexican cuisine, and promptly expired from exhaustion.

Today (Monday) we decided to go separate ways. Soups and Dan went to see the financial district and the UN building. Ken raced off to get drugs for his hayfever, and to scour the city for sports stores and WWE memorabilia (wrestling, for those who didn't know). I took a walk up to Central Park, which was lovely today. Being a weekday, it was full of dogs, nannies and children. The park is beautiful, with 52 miles of pathways, 9000 benches and lots of squirrels and robins. Alongside the east side was Museum Mile, where I was sorely disappointed to find that most museums close on Mondays. But Soups and Dan met up with me at the Guggenheim, to check out the modern and pop art exhibits. Um, we won't tell you what we thought of it. Let's just say that an art piece made out of a springboard mattress ain't exactly our cup of tea.

Dan took his leave this evening. We're getting everything ready for our jump to Madrid tomorrow. Hopefully the weather there will be more promising.

Stay tuned for our next report from somewhere in Spain!

Hasta luego!
Kim

Pennsylvania and Washington DC

2006-05-16T19:48:00.000-07:00

We don’t remember much of the flight to New York. Due to the early hour, we fell asleep as the plane taxied out, and woke up landing in New York.

Upon retrieving our bags, I gave my trolley to a little girl who was waiting near her parents. Her eyes lit up at the “gift”, and she immediately started to tug on her mother’s arm to get her attention. Her parents shushed and ignored her – they were busy trying to figure out how to get a trolley. The look of utter frustration on that little girl’s face was priceless, as her parents put a quarter in, got the trolley, and then turned around to see what she had been screaming about! Lesson learned: we should really listen to children more.

My brother Amal and his girlfriend Pinjia were there to welcome us, and immediately took us to lunch at a Chinese restaurant in Flushing, Queens. We met Pinjia’s grandmother, aunt and cousins, who were also visiting the country at the same time. As per usual, we overextended our stomach capacities.

The drive back to Pennsylvania State College should have taken 4 hours – instead, it took us 9, as we inched our way out of New York Friday afternoon traffic. My bro is also a self-professed directionally challenged driver, and so with me navigating on unfamiliar roads, yup, we got lost a few times. But it was a scenic drive.

On the road, Soups noticed all the fragments of tyres that were scattered everywhere, and speculated out loud about what it must feel like to have a tyre burst from under you. Minutes later, we were all jolted by an explosion as a pick-up directly in front of us burst a tyre, and the bits flew directly at us! Luckily we were driving a safe distance behind, so nothing hit us. We have since banned Soups from speculating on anything, just to be sure.

We arrived at Amal’s apartment by midnight. He shares the place with Dmitri, a Greek electrical engineering student who has just graduated. Mom, the place is IMMACULATE – really!

We spent the Saturday roaming around campus. Penn State (not to be confused with its neighboring State Pen) is huge, pristine and is a town unto itself. It is the first and oldest state college in the US, founded by Benjamin Franklin. The grounds are huge, with an estimated annual landscaping budget of $15 million. It has its own airport, police force, stadiums, fire department, golf courses and shopping complexes. It boasts the country’s #2 college football team, the country’s most successful and expensive football coach, and is also populated by award-winning students, Nobel-award-winning faculty, and a huge population of squirrels, chipmunks and bunnies. While this state has popular hunting grounds, apparently you can be jailed for shooting a squirrel on campus. We’ve taken pictures instead.

We’ve also learned how to blend in by purchasing sweatshirts, the official American uniform.

Saturday also turned out to be graduation day, so everyone was decked out and on their best behaviour for one reason: parents on campus! I am told that real life on campus is a bit more boisterous. Somehow I can believe that.

Early Sunday we drove the four hours to Washington DC to visit my cousin Cathy and her family. I met my niece Diane and nephews Raphael and baby Francis for the first time, and was pleasantly surprised to find that my brother knows how to hold a baby! Ken and Soups went gaga over Francis, and wanted to take him as a souvenir.

After feasting on beautiful Filipino food which Cathy had prepared, we then took the subway to Union Station, and got onto a Twilight Tour of the monuments. It was beautiful walking around the softly lit monuments at night, it was more awe-inspiring and solemn.

On Monday we decided to stay an extra day so we could explore all the different Smithsonian museums. The boys wanted to see Air and Space museum, so we toured that for a while. Then we girls begged to see the National Art Gallery to try and find the only da Vinci painting owned by the US. The boys made us promise to speed-walk and not stop at anything BUT the da Vinci painting, but it turned out that it was the boys we needed to drag away from all the different pieces! The da Vinci itself was not very interesting, as we were more impressed by being in the presence of the artist’s work instead of the piece itself.

Last was the Natural History museum, where there were stunning displays of animals from all over the world, stuffed and mounted in various life-like poses. The boys found the insect zoo which featured live insects and spiders, while we girls naturally found the gemstone exhibit, much to their amusement. Our excuse is that we didn't have time for the insects before we got kicked out.

We’re back in Penn State now, hoping that we won’t have to move for a few more days. It’s officially day 19 of our trip, and we’re struggling to remember everything.

On Friday, we will catch a train to New York for a few days of roaming around before we fly off to Madrid.

We hope you are all well.
Cheers,
Kim

Tales of Toronto

2006-05-11T00:42:00.000-07:00

We have a whole new appreciation of the term "to travel lightly". Oh yes, my friends, the adventures continue.

Very early Tuesday morning, we stood on the train platform where a train would take us to the Portland airport. As we said our goodbyes to Sumit, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Supriya hauled a bag onto the train. She thought "I hope the train doesn't go without me". She stepped off the train to get more bags. The train doors closed. The train pulled away...

In a flash, gone was the sluggishness of the pre-coffee morning, replaced with adrenalin-driven panic! Supriya and Sumit raced to his car to try to beat the train to its next station and retrieve or accompany the bag. Ken and I took the remaining bags, and tried to judge our chances of running after the train - which were nonexistent.

We were able to get the attention of the next friendly train driver (the unfriendly one passed us by) who immediately put a call out on the radio. Within minutes, the bag was located, we were on the correct train headed for a happy reunion, and sure enough, Supriya jumped on the same train to join us. The poor thing had a double shock then - she had initially panicked thinking that the runaway bag was hers. Then she saw me standing guard over her bag, when she realised it was MY bag all along- and immediately collapsed into a puddle of guilt. But all's well that ends well. We, bags and all, got from Portland to Chicago to Toronto that day. *whew*

Lesson learned: train doors are NOT like elevator doors which can be held or forced back open at the last minute.

Our friends Amit and Anjali were there to greet us at the airport, and amidst stories, jokes and catching up, we promptly got lost and took a longer time to get to their apartment than our flight to Toronto.

The happy couple have been married several years, and are adorable. They are relatively new to Toronto, having been here 3 months, and live in an apartment that annexes with the offices of Amit's uncle Ash. The entire place is beautifully appointed with treasures selected from around the world. There are gorgeous watercolours and paintings on silk that adorn each wall, and each corner holds some new artefact to enjoyed. It soothes our hotel-weary souls.

We feasted like kings on home cooked Indinan food which included some vegetable dish that is Supriya's favourite but which no one can provide a common name for, although Anjali, a botanist, can rattle off its scientific name.

The next day we all trooped over to the heart of Toronto to see the sights. Toronto is the largest poplated area in Canada, and is a vast city with beautiful arhitecture, friendly people, and a nice Hooters restaurant than Las Vegas! We visited the tallest building - CN Tower, took a tram to Chinatown, and tried to count how many times we could find the ever-present maple leaf incorporated into logos, designs and patterns. Amazingly even McDonalds has a red maple leaf embedded in the centre of its M logo!

We drove to Niagara Falls that night, which is roughly 100 km from Toronto. We arrived in a place that seemed to be a replica of Vegas with casinos, hotels and bright neon lights galore, except that the waterfalls were real, and breathtaking. The falls are lit up by high-powered rainbow lights mounted high on the hillside, so the water cascades in powerful streams of colour. As we walked through the mist to the viewing walkways of the Horseshoe Falls, I looked over the balcony and found myself only a few feet away from the edge of the falls! It was a magical, terrifying, and damp - experience.

The drive home was eventful - what should have been a 1.5 hour drive turned into a 4 hour drive. Ken had taken the opportunity to drive in Canada, and I navigated as best I could. Most of the instructions tended to be "the other lane, Ken!" - "wrong lane, Ken" or "make sure you turn into THAT side of the road, Ken"... you can imagine the fear in the air! But Ken coped beautifully, and we spent the 2.5 extra hours on the road getting hopelessly lost in the maze of freeways, exits, and highways back to Toronto. We had initially been tempted to drive back to Niagara today to see the falls in daylight, but by the time we arrived back at the apartment at 4 am and stumbled incoherently into our beds, that idea quickly fizzled out.

Tomorrow we head off to New York, where I finally meet my brother Amal for a few days in his domain in Penn State.

More tales later!
Kim

Picturesque Portland

2006-05-08T15:47:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

If you want to see pictures, please check out Supriya's blog: http://supriyaworldtour.blogspot.com

We've been kicking back and relaxing in Portland ever since we arrived on 4 May. We're staying at Sumit's bachelor pad, which has undergone an incredible transformation in the past few days, much to our delight and his dismay. Furniture has been rearranged, cupboards stocked, laundry folded - he claims it's now forever tainted by the touch of females, but truth be told, it was actually Ken's idea to rearrange the furniture and vacuum! He's trying to deny it though.

Portland is very similar to central Canberra in many aspects. There are days of beauitful sunshine, which are appreciated here because most of the time the city is covered in a fine mist of rain. The people here are down to earth and incredibly friendly. People talk to us in elevators, on trains, in post offices... Due to the cold and the rain, they dress in layers and see umbrellas as a wasted effort. We tourists are rather conspicious as being the only umbrella-toting people on streets. Apparently the rain is held responsible for a surprisingly high suicide rate here, but people are quick to point out that Seattle has worse rain, a larger population and therefore a higher suicide rate.

Portland is situated in a valley, with towering mountains and pine forests all around. A few minutes away from our place is the Washington National Park, which we have been wanting to walk through - however the thought of walking through rain tends to quell that idea rather quickly.

On the 5th of May we went out on the town to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. The locals we met couldn'treally tell us the historical significance of the day - theories ranged from spring festivals to Hispanic-Franco battles... but it's a night to go drinking.

Sumit took us to a few bars where we met up with his friends and tried the local alcohol. Ken was happily introduced to a few Irish car bombs: 1/2 pint Guinness, with a shot of 1/2 Baileys and 1/2 whiskey added. Supriya and I tried to take it easy with a shared Long Island Iced Tea. The bartender said he'd be nice to us. Now here's a lesson in how language differs: Supriya and I thought that "being nice" meant that he would put less alcohol in it. Apparently the bartender (and everyone else for that matter) agreed that it means the exact opposite - for the same cost of the drink, the bartender is trying to be nice by putting MORE in.

I won't go into too much detail on the events of that night - however for the curious, lets just say that Soups and Ken spent a long night worshipping at the base of the ceramic god, and leave it at that. Oh yeah, and Ken earned the distinct honour (which none of the locals have managed to achieve in all their years here) of getting expelled from a nightclub. He said he had merely been trying to press buttons on a screen to make it work. The "screen" turned out to be a point of sale terminal, and we kinda understand how that could result in an eviction... This was all after 4 Irish car bombs.

We've spent the last few days just chilling, cooking, relaxing and getting on Sumit's nerves by constantly tidying up his place. But it has been a good recharger for us. Can you believe it's only been 10 days? It feels like forever!

Yesterday we drove to Corvallis (an hour away) to see the Oregon State University, where Sumit studied. It was a cold, wet and grey day, and the locals assured us that it was a typical day. I kept tryign to imagine it in sunshine, and kept failing. We walked around his regular haunts, and met his friends. We checked out the univeristy entertainment centre, where we played a game of bowling ($2 a game!!!). Ken defeated me, but I got my sweet revenge in air hockey. We then picked up Pictionary from the local store, and went to his friend Mary's house to play a mean game where Mary's housemate John and I kicked ass and won.

Tomorrow we leave for Toronto, to meet up with Supriya's and Sumit's old friend Amit.

Til then!
Kim

Seeing San Fancisco

2006-05-05T12:21:00.000-07:00

Greetings, all!

The dramas - uh - adventures continue. I believe we are learning first hand what NOT to do while travelling.

First on the list is Ken's personal contribution to Las Vegas. He had decided do a bit of laundry in the bathroom, and when we returned after a long day of walking, he ran into the room to check on the status of his laundry. Now here's the good bit - he'd missed a rather important sign on the balcony requesting guests to not drape laundry over the balcony. Not only had he draped it, he also had not pegged it down to anything. You guessed it - some pigeons were now investigating his boxers 15 stories below us! I almost expired from laughter.

Then it was my turn to commit a blooper - we checked out of Vegas and got to our airport gate with plenty of time to spare - only for me to realise that my handy pocketknife was NOT in my checked-in luggage but was in my handbag instead! Oh, the horrors... So Supriya and I trudged back to the checkin counter to try to get another bag checked in with the knife - and learned that bags have cut-off times and we'd missed it because the line at the check-in had taken ages.

My knife now belongs to a tall blond bellhop with a moustache in Vegas.

We arrived in San Francisco on Thursday. Ken volunteered to stay at the hotel to do our laundry (perhaps we're training him well?) while Supriya and I raced to the city centre to meet Jerome, an old friend from our time in the Philippines.

Jerome took us to his favourite restaurant for an incredible dinner of seafood floating in lobster sauce, where we caught up on the past 7 years. We met his friend from Portugal who we happily interrogated to prepare for our impending visit to his country. We took the subway to the Castro district. Chantelle, you're right - it's pretty cool! It was a quiet weeknight so most of the shops were closed, but we walked down the main street and had a cup of tea at an interestingly named store - the Squat and Gobble.

One thing about this trip is that it's restoring our faith in the kindness of strangers. As we took the BART train back to the hotel, we debated long and loud about which stop to take - whereupon a friendly native - Juan Carlos - took pity on us and kindly offered a ride back to the hotel from his next stop which was close by. A pretty nice guy, who's working and studying to get into law school.

We flew to Portland the next day where we were singled out to do a blast test - the security guy puts you in a tall compartment and tells you not to move. Then without any warning, you get hit with blasts of air from all sides to test for explosive particles in the air. We all got to do it and got a kick out of it.

And after all our lessons in how to travel, we still almost missed our flight to Portland - despite the fact that we were waiting in the lounge for 2 full hours! They had moved the boarding time of the flight forward and we were still operating on the old information on our Canberra-based itinerary. Yet another thing to learn: READ the boarding passes! Oh yeah, and Supriya managed to include her passport in her checked-in bags. Yet another thing never to do again...

We're in Portland now at Supriya's brother's bachelor pad. Needless to say, I've already gleefully tackled it and tidied up.

More adventures and dramas coming soon!
Kim

Living Las Vegas

2006-05-02T14:46:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

We travelled from Canberra to Sydney to Los Angeles to Las Vegas in 24 hours. I don't know if I'll be doing that again anytime soon!

I find that it's hard to switch off work mode. The Los Angeles airport elevator was a delightful potential project to undertake with the UCD team - I could imagine Ruth's horrified expression at the interface. Our instructions were to go to the 3rd floor for our transit flight. There were no numbers on the elevator panel, only letters "T" for Tickets, "P" for Planes, "B" for Baggage etc. If you can imagine 20 people crammed in the elevator trying to push every single button (which also had icons that no one could interpret) and yell out advice to others, it verged on hilarity. Especially when we all managed to get off on the wrong floor and then have to take an escalator down which bypassed all the floors, so we had to start again - this time with a different set of 20 people, all again pushing all the buttos and offering advice...

There's no mistaking that you've arrived in Vegas. There are slot machines in the arrival lounges! We managed to hail the meanest scariest taxi driver who managed to evoke hatred and road rage in all that he overtook and cut off on the road, so I can say that my first impression of Vegas was absolute terror.

After recovered from our jetlag, the trio of us have spent the past 4 days walking up and down the Strip, investigating anything that looks interesting - which means we're ducking into everything which has lights! On Day 3, we had to find some eyeglasses for Supriya, so she spent all of last night walking around exclaiming about sights which by now Ken and I were used to. Prior to last night apparently everything had been a bright blur for her!

Tomorrow we fly to San Fran, and from there to Portland. Hopefully we can get to a kitchen and some healthy food - we can feel our arteries clogging up with each passing meal.

Stay tuned for further updates!

Get set...

2006-04-28T01:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm packed. I'm ready. I'm a bundle of nerves waiting to be unleashed on a hapless world.

Seriously, I couldn't be more prepared. I'm armed with vaccinations, visas, screaming security keyrings (thanks Joanna!), bandaids, travel sickness tablets, borocca, itineraries in 3 different formats, lists of contacts and embassies - hard copies in triplicate, electronic copies on email and on the PDA... I am actually looking forward to the vacation to get away from the sheer preparation!

Tomorrow, Supriya, Ken and I will be on the 7 am bus to Sydney, and on the 1:45 flight to Los Angeles, then directly to the glittering lights of Las Vegas.

Yes, I will try to stay out of trouble. For now. :D

Cheers,
Kim

On my mark...

2006-04-24T18:20:00.000-07:00

Greetings, and welcome!

This will be my attempt at keeping a record of my journeys which commence on 29 April 2006.

As I prepare to visit the world, I will be attempting to capture and share my experiences, misadventures and all. For those back home fretting about what the heck I've been up to, here's one way to keep track of me!

T minus 3 days... and boy am I counting the minutes...

Cheers,
Kim