I apologize. The past two days have been brutal for me physically, as I rushed from place to place and now suffer from an achy back, dehydrated headache, bruised feet, and sheer exhaustion. So, I will not write a proper entry and will instead take this time to sleep earlier and rest my sore body. Unfortunately I’ve been getting late starts and there is much I want to do during the day, so by the time I’m ending the day, no massage parlours are open to take care of my weary muscles. It looks like I won’t have much time before I get back to Singapore, so I’ll just have to wait until next week. But hey, I’m exploring a lot!
Copping out of a real entry
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: blogging, singapore, travel
22
July
2009
0
Airports reimagined
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: future, idea, observation, opinion, pictures, storytelling, travel, travel tales
21
July
2009
Bangkok Airport: it's like a robot caterpillar.
It first occurred to me as the bus was pulling away from the airport in Bangkok that it made no sense why the departure gates are so nice and up top whereas the arrival gates are given basement levels and dungeon treatment. I was staring at its unique architecture and thinking of how high the ceilings in the departure area are, getting the bulk of the natural lighting. Then I thought about the grungy ground floor that I had just left, where everything was darker and grimier. It had never hit me before, but suddenly I wondered: is this the first impression that a country or city wants to give to visitors? Sure, I walked through some nice areas to get out of the airport, but in making departing so scenic an experience, are you trying to encourage people to leave? Besides, the people in departure have seen your city already; they hardly need to see highlights of it. Rather, it’s the people arriving who should get a glimpse of everything you have to offer.
So here’s how I envision it: people fly in from around the world to your airport, where they see some of the finest architecture you are capable of, preferably with some local flair or at least a memorable look and feel. They disembark and take an escalator up to the top floor, where sunlight flows in during the day and stars twinkle overhead at night. Along their walk they pass art that exemplifies what your city, your country is all about and get to see some mini models of cool buildings they’ll find, as well as some static scenes of what local life is or was like. Already they can smell the food your town has to offer and envision the bustle or peacefulness of your streets. Meanwhile, as they look around outside the terminal, they are offered beautiful views of the surrounding area, whether it’s the ocean water or city lights shining in the distance.
Wouldn’t you like to see a model of this temple greeting you instead of… nothing?
The anticipation builds as they approach immigration, where TVs depict highlights of what they can find after they set foot outside. As they wait in line, colorful images catch their attention and useful subtitling leave them scribbling notes on what amazing things they want to check out there. By the time they reach the immigration official, they are so engrossed in the videos that they hardly want to leave. Officials are dressed in native attire and all wear a smile on their face as they greet you. Though they take their roles seriously and carefully check your documents, they do so with a pleasant demeanor and welcome you to their city the moment you pass. If you don’t, they politely direct you to wherever you need to go to be checked out further. From there, they apologize for the inconvenience and allow you through or detain you because you really are a threat.
Carts are strategically placed beyond the immigration line so you’ll be prepared as soon as you get to the appropriate conveyor belt. You can watch as the luggage is loaded from the truck to the conveyor belt outside, then taken up to where you are standing. As you search for your belongings, you can distract yourself with spectacular views of planes taking off or landing, as well as enjoy the scenery and continue to watch those videos about the sights and sounds of the city they’re about to experience. The moment they have all their belongings and clear customs, they are greeted with a bright lobby complete with free maps, information on the special concessions available for tourists, and the typical money exchange, bank, ATMs, hotel/tour/taxi bookings, and information centers. For those being picked up, glass doors allow both sides to locate their parties upon approach, so they know exactly where to head to (rather than scanning the crowd trying to figure out where to go) as soon as they exit. For the others, signs clearly point the way to the various forms of transportation offered from the airport and ticketing stands are located near pick-up locations or along the way to getting to the bus, train, shuttle, or what have you.
They should have had this in arrival! I saw plenty of mini versions throughout Bangkok.
Small touches add a local flair to the decor, from things like the design of the door handles to the decorations spicing up the space. Murals show off the most popular attractions and display cases offer a preview of the cool things you can buy, do, or see. A few small stores offer items for sale, just in case a visitor doesn’t want to have to track down an item they like somewhere in the city. A couple of convenience stores and cafes allow a weary traveler to get a quick pick-me-up before the typically half-hour to hour drive to get into the city, or wherever their destination may be. If possible, the bank on site would stay open all night, in case flights came in late and people missed their chance to withdraw money (and couldn’t through an ATM). All ATMs would certainly be operating 24 hours a day.
As for the departure terminal, well, it would be below the arrivals and get less light. However, it would be brightly lit and decorated with the top attractions that visitors and locals alike should have seen, as a reminder of the beauty of the city they’re leaving. There would be messages all around inviting them to return soon and thanking them for stopping by. After checking in and going through security, they’d walk past all the duty free shops as we do now. Some restaurants would line the outer edge of the terminal with clear views of the runways. All the waiting areas for the gates would also offer a look towards the flights arriving and departing. When it comes time for boarding, stairs, escalators, ramps, and elevators would allow access to the floor where the ramp to the airplane is. Actually, some places function like this already (so what does their arrival terminal look like?).
This plan may not be practical, but it would be nice if they at least put more welcoming decorations in arrivals. This idea was reemphasized when I saw all the cool things they had in departures as I was leaving. I’m sure having a more inviting arrival terminal would make us all feel more welcome, whether we’re coming for the first time or coming home.
A ride on the wild side
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: adventure, animals, experiences, food, learning, pictures, storytelling, travel, travel tales
20
July
2009
Wow, what an amazing excursion I went on yesterday! Though it had a rocky start, it quickly picked up and turned out to be a great tour. The day began at 6, when I woke up to get ready to leave. It was surprisingly easy to wake up and I quickly got dressed, put my things away, and headed out to Khoasa(r)n Road, the street where lots of foreigners congregate. It was there that I had booked my trip just the day before and it was there that we were due to meet to head out. It’s about a 20-minute walk away, which felt good in the early morning.
Completely empty at that time.
I happily arrived ten minutes early and at seven, a lady came by to put stickers on us to indicate which sights each of us had signed up for. Upon seeing me and checking my itinerary, she shook her head and told me I couldn’t go to the Tiger Temple because I was wearing shorts. Apparently at a Buddhist temple, you’re not allowed to show your shoulders or knees (you’re also not allowed to wear red, orange, or bright pink, since that may aggravate the tigers). Shocked and frustrated, I asked if the van could drop me off at my hostel so I could run in to grab long pants to wear (it would only be a 5 minute detour as compared to the 40-minute round trip walk), but they refused. Well, at least I had chosen to wear a half-sleeve shirt that day and opted for dark colors rather than my red shirt.
So many servicemen…
Sadly, the service level in Thailand generally isn’t very high, so I was left angered that nobody warned me and now they didn’t care a bit that I couldn’t see the one thing that I had chosen that tour for. They nonchalantly told me to just buy a pair of pants, but I was low on cash and did not have a functioning ATM card with me to withdraw more. Plus, the shops and stalls weren’t even open yet. Thanks for the help – NOT! Desperate, I asked when the bus would arrive and was told 20 minutes, so I hired a taxi to take me on a quick back and forth that got me back in time for a decent price. This time I armed myself with two pairs of pants and a t-shirt, just in case. We didn’t even leave until 8, so I totally could have walked had I known! Oh well.
The bridge the POWs built with sweat and blood.
Once the journey got underway, I settled in for a nap and tried not to worry about whether or not open-toed shoes were allowed. I figured they should be okay, since the monks’ shoes have holes, but they also bare a shoulder, so I wasn’t sure. That was something I couldn’t help though; I had no close-toed shoes with me, so I was out of luck if they didn’t allow it. After a two-hour drive, I woke up to find we had arrived and the WWII cemetery for POWs. We got off for a brief stroll on the grounds, looking at some of the headstones. So many of those men were only my age when they died. 🙁 Next, we were then taken to to JEATH Museum and Death Bridge/Railway, where many of those men lost their lives. This whole time I had ignorantly thought that they just horribly mis-spelled death, but it actually stands for Japanese, English, American/Australian, Thai, and Holland(ese?), the nationalities of the soldiers who died working on the rails. I went around the museum and walked along the bridge in the time allotted, then returned to the van for the next leg of our journey.
Well, it turned out our next destination was lunch and they drove us out to a cute floating guesthouse, where some of the other people in our van would be staying for their two- or three-day tours. We all had a rice and vegetable lunch, then the one-dayers headed out on the river for our bamboo rafting. It was pretty amazing how many people we could fit on a little seating area that had a super thin layer of bamboo and none us understood why there were nine of us squeezed on one raft and only four on the other. However, we just went with it and had fun enjoying the flow of the current and the surprisingly strong waves that the motorboats made, rocking us even when they were on the other side of the river.
He must have had a lot to drink!
Next up was elephant trekking, where we were taken two or three at a time sitting atop an elephant for a stroll in the brush. I was grouped together with a mother daughter pair from the Czech Republic and we gasped and giggled as our elephant, a thirty-year-old male named something like Soomhoop, headed off and sent us swaying with his footsteps. I took off my shoes to enjoy the texture of his skin and marvel at his bony ears and wiry body hair. We were high enough to see a pair of giant butterflies mating in the trees and at times it looked like some of the other groups were floating on the foliage. At one point, Soomhoop just started peeing out of nowhere and it was as powerful as a fire hose – thank goodness we were nowhere near that!
After that exciting ride, we were given a moment of relaxation at a waterfall. Though I had bought a swimsuit for the occasion, I didn’t have much time to dry off if I went for a swim, so I just waded and enjoyed the trickling water. There were a lot of families there laying on bamboo platforms or sheets, having picnics and otherwise lazing the day away. I can see how it’d be a really popular place for the locals to go on the weekends. I certainly wish there was something like near my house! Guess I’ll just have to settle for the pool instead.
The last stop of the day was the Tiger Temple, where Buddhist monks raised tigers on their monastery grounds. I threw on my gauchos over my shorts before heading in so I’d be properly covered. We all had to sign liability forms to waive the temple from responsibility for any injuries we may get and then we went in, ready for some special encounters. The first thing I did was go to Tiger Canyon, where a line was quickly forming for pictures with the adult tigers who were lounging there. We were led in one by one by a caretaker as another took pictures for us. Each person got to pet about six or seven tigers, from ones who were sleeping with their bellies up to ones who were sprawled on rocks tanning. You could tell these people were seasoned picture-takers from the bored way they’d snap photos for you. However, they were pretty good and got about three shots for each tiger, though some were blurry.
Following my turn, I took a small break sitting nearby, watching as others took their turns. There was an express line for anywhere from one to five people who could pay 1000 Baht per group to get in with no wait and be allowed to hold the tiger’s head in their lap. One day I’d like to do that, when I have more money to spare. I’d also like to find a white tiger to pet. I then made my way out of the canyon to find the baby tigers, who were out to play. I squatted just out of paw reach of one of them and took pictures as the monk handling him teased him with a branch of leaves. The monk invited me to take a picture with the cub after he had tired it out a bit and so I got some more shots.
As I was trying to head out, I was stopped because they were about to walk the tigers back from the canyon and I needed to stay out of the way. Two came along and one was tied to a tree nearby as an elder monk began to feed it milk from bottles. A line quickly formed as we were invited to take a picture with them before they closed for the day. I waited my turn for one last photo op and then had to weave around cattle as they were being fed for the day. On my way out I also came across horses, deer, wild boar, and even a camel! It was a bit smelly, but what a great time anyway. 🙂
All in all it was a fabulous day, though a bit rushed. Next time I’d want to try an overnight trip so I could have more time at each place. I’d also need an extra battery pack, since I barely made it through the day with the one I had.
For the sake of it
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: childhood, experiences, food, friends, future, goals, identity, journals, memories, passion, personality, pictures, singapore, writing
19
July
2009
photo credit: puttputtproductions.com
I was born in the Year of the Ox and the month of the Capricorn. Both are known to be stubborn creatures, which is something that I’ve most definitely inherited, for better or for worse. Many of the things I chose to do in my life have been out of pure stubbornness – first to be able to say that I did it and second just to be different. Of course, the more people try to get me to change my behavior, the more determined I get to stick to my principles, morals, and priorities. I think I like the satisfaction of claiming that I don’t do this or that or that I have done something for this long. Especially when it’s something most of the population would like to claim as well, I feel all the better about being able to stake my claim.
The three most prominent examples of this are what I will or will not ingest, my frequency of relocations and moves, and my persistence with my journal. For each, though it may not always make sense for me to stick to my guns so strictly, I do so to preserve the idea that it’s always been that way. I don’t like to compromise in any of these areas and it’s quite rare for me to do so, though I’ve been working on that lately, since some of what I do is truly unfounded or limiting. At the same time, certain aspects I don’t plan on ever changing and that can be seen as a good or bad thing. Ok, let me clarify what I mean by each of these examples then.
Lychee flavor!
First off are my peculiar food and drink preferences. As many know, I do not drink alcohol, coffee, or energy drinks. I also refuse to eat rubbery things like calamari, squid, and other such odd creatures. I stay away from burgers, steak, lobster, and caviar. I am especially strict with alcohol, also avoiding food cooked in it, chocolates with liqueur, and the like. Even fermented food is a big no-no in my books, though some of these things have been unavoidably tasted at least once. The more people try to pressure me to drink, the more resistant I am, even if it’s just a taste or small portion of wine. I often get the “you know that it can actually be good for you, right?” and pay no heed – the costs far outweigh the benefits in my eyes. I do, however, like to collect a few mini bottles here and there because they’re rather cute (plus, why would you ever drink it? They’re too pretty!).
However, last year I did become curious and exasperated enough to try some beer (at age 22) and it was just as nasty as I thought it’d be, plus some. So that experience only solidified my resolve to avoid alcohol. I’m sure people will now focus on how I didn’t try wine or something lighter, fruitier, or whatever. Perhaps one day I will sip some wine just to get them to leave me alone, but as of now I’ll just ignore their pleads that it can be good for my health. In fact, I cherish an article I read recently about how the link that people draw between moderate drinking and good health may not be a causal effect, but actually be discounting many other possible factors that affect people’s drinking. Even if there was solid proof, I’m not about to just follow suit. I can eat blueberries and pomegranates for antioxidants and have fish oil and avocados for cardiovascular health. No alcohol needed.
I avoid coffee and energy drinks for the caffeine, which I don’t want or need, plus coffee smells disgusting to me. I like to do things naturally and without artificial aids whenever possible, so if I’m tired I take a nap. If I’m pulling an all-nighter, I drink lots of water or tea. I don’t need these extreme stimulants to affect my body in strange ways.
As for rubbery things, I’m not a fan of having to overwork my jaw or swallow large chunks of food. The texture doesn’t appeal to me, so I stick to crab, shrimp, and scallops, which is seafood that I do like to eat. This is not for health reasons, so I did try these “dong dong” shells in Singapore, since it’s a local thing. Now, I’m not quite sure why I don’t like burgers – I think it stems from a gross one I saw in the cafeteria in my childhood. I’ve stayed away ever since, though I have broken that to have about five in the past 15 years.
This doesn’t look appetizing to me at all. photo credit: artvoice.com
Steak is just too thick for me and I hate how it usually comes at least somewhat pink. I don’t really like meat that much, unless it’s very thinly sliced. Lobster is something my mom and I have disagreed on for ages – she says I ate it as a kid and I refuse to believe that. The only time I recall having it was in a dip, where the chunks were minimal. I’m not interested in ever eating a full one. And caviar has the same problem that rubbery things have in that I don’t like the texture. I also stubbornly don’t like food that is high class and expensive (though it’s a coincidence that my taste buds prefer cheaper foods).
Secondly, I am persistent in my desire to move around because that’s how my life has always been. I like being able to say I’ve never lived in the same city for more than 3 and 1/2 years consecutively. I like having so many old homes and schools and jobs that I have to keep a list or else I’d forget. I’m not the type of person to stay put and I enjoy that. My friends are never really too surprised to hear of my escapades because I’m on the go far more than they usually are. If for that reason alone, I want to keep moving around and not settle quite yet. Of course, it also has to do with just being used to that lifestyle.
My most recent journal.
Finally, how many people can say they have kept a journal for 14 years? I want to be able to, but I’m at 13 now and a year behind in catching up on entries. Most people I tell say they tried to keep a journal, but that only lasted a week, a month, a year… I’ve yet to meet someone who’s managed for as long as I have. And if only for the sake of being able to say that I have, I want to continue with it, whether or not it may be worth my while. Ultimately I think it’ll be a great thing to draw from later on if I decide to write an autobiography (or if people want to look back on my life, though it’d certainly be a bit tedious – I’m already reaching 50 volumes and that’s A LOT of reading).
So you see, much of my motivations for these areas is because of my stubbornness to continue to do it like I always have (or at least since my childhood). Generally, people respect my choices and think it’s good that I don’t drink and don’t rely on coffee or energy drinks for a boost. They also think it’s crazy that I move so frequently, but respect my ability to do that as well. And of course, everyone wishes they were able to keep the journal they always meant to have. I like being the one who does. The one who is able to stay away from alcohol, coffee, and energy drinks. The one who doesn’t need or want to spend exorbitant amounts on steak, lobster, and caviar. The one who has lived everywhere. The one who has kept a journal for years. The one who can, who has, and who will.
Timeless dilemma
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: childhood, daddy, friends, journals, mommy, ninja, observation, opinion, pictures, social media, writing
18
July
2009
Truly like a ninja.
I have a friend, Ninja, who lives his life in such a way that it should be worthy of being made into a movie. In everything he does, that’s how he’ll treat things. It’s quite fitting that everyone sees him as a ninja, prowling around doing all kinds of cool moves and getting into spectacular “fights.” I’m sure everyone would love to have his approach to life. It’s really quite cool, because then he’s always having exciting adventures. It helps that he’s extremely athletic, so he can escape situations if needed. One of the examples was when he went to the midnight showing of Indiana Jones (whichever one just came out in the past year or so) dressed in a leather jacket, leather hat/fedora thing, and (real) bullwhip. After the show ended, he stood up on the balcony and cracked his whip to cheers and whistles until security approached. He then made a run for it and got out unscathed. Now how awesome is that?!
Having too much fun to write about it!
Well, the thing is, if you’re out having such a fantastic time all the time, you never have time to record it for others to enjoy or for it to be passed down in the books. This is a dilemma that I face all the time as I ponder how worthwhile it is for me to maintain a daily journal. It started back in 4th grade, when I wanted a diary from the Scholastic Fair, but my dad would only allow me to buy it if I promised to write in it every day. I did, and he got me the diary, but never again asked about it. It was only in the months and years following, when my parents would find me scribbling away at yet another volume of my journal, that they realized I was serious. Maybe they didn’t hold me accountable for my promise, but I did. They used to scold me that I was wasting my time writing so much and it was just a liu shui zhang, or ‘running water account’. Basically, it meant that my writing was as useless as a bank account where all the funds were drained, or something to that extent.
Nonetheless, I pursued until about a year ago, when I truly started to get behind on my writing. When I can’t find the time to write an entry each day (which has been the case for many years), I’ll keep bullet point notes to remind me of what to write about when I do have time to catch up. I used to be able to catch up on a weekly basis, which then evolved to a monthly basis and now… yearly? I still have tons of notes for all the days I’ve missed, though even those I’m behind on now. I’m not too worried though, since with the brilliance of the internet, I can just check my Facebook, blog, texts, and IMs from a particular day to piece together what happened. Not the best way to keep track of my life, but it works.
Have fun playing with friends or chill out writing alone?
My constant struggle with keeping a journal was that when I had a lot to write about, I had no time to write about it and when I had plenty of time to write, I had nothing to write about. After all, if you’re too busy out doing fun and interesting things, you won’t have time to stop and spend some time writing about it. Conversely, if you’ve got plenty of time sitting around, you aren’t really doing much exciting stuff to mention. So I always question the existence of my journal and whether or not I should maintain it. Even now, being so far behind, I fully intend to catch up on it eventually. But is it worth the time? Should I be doing something more notable instead? I used to write when I couldn’t really do anything else, like when I was on planes or in a waiting room, but that doesn’t happen much anymore, so most of my time I can spend doing something else. I’d like to live a storybook life, but I’d like to document it as well. So where is my balance? I don’t know if I’ll ever find one, but I will certainly always be striving towards one.
Pets!
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: pictures, storytelling, travel tales
17
July
2009
When I went to visit Patong Beach, I was delighted to find the sand teeming with live little clams that could be caught burrowing whenever the tide washed away the sand hiding them. I happily spent the next two hours digging them up and taking pictures and videos of them climbing back down again. It was truly an amazing time for me, since I love creatures of most sorts and it was my first time seeing clams in a natural habitat and not at the market. The next day, I went to check out a different beach with the hopes of finding more of them, but the sand was rougher and there was hardly any life to be found.
After much searching, I finally found a clam, but the waves soon caught me off-guard and washed it away. Then, I spotted a big one trying to get back under the sand! I quickly grabbed it and happily examined him, then tried to film him burrowing, but he clammed up and wouldn’t cooperate. Not long after, it began to rain and we were all chased from the beach by the drops. As I was making my way towards land, I came across a pointy shell wiggling its way into the sand. Thrilled, I quickly grabbed it and admired my new prize. Now I had two of these sea creatures and went to ask for a bottle. The guy selling drinks gave me a bag, which I filled with sand and water and brought it back with me.
At the hostel, I wasn’t sure about the policy on bringing back such things, so I quietly took them upstairs and went out to find a container to put them in. I ended up finding a styrofoam bowl and transferred them over. The sea snail with the pointy shell was an active one, always coming out to climb around whenever I put him on top of the sand. He left a little slimey trail with sand clinging to it and made a small indent in the surface of the sand as he moved around. The clam, however, was super boring and just lay there for hours. I guess he was trying to get used to the still water and the little bit of stirring I did was not enough to simulate the ocean’s waves.
The next day, I was going to take them back to the ocean, so I put them on the floor of the “bus” (it’s like a truck with seats and a cover put on the back). As soon as we started driving, they came alive! The clam popped up to the surface and stuck out his siphoning extensions, then used him tail thing to move around, occasionally jumping too! The sea snail got back to work trying to climb up the walls of the bowl only to find his shell was too heavy for him halfway up. He’d fall over and flip himself rightside up again, then crawl along the sides of the bowl before going down into the sand. It was great for me to watch, especially when the clam would retreat as soon as the car stopped moving.
It’s a pity I couldn’t keep them, but as a fellow hosteler pointed out, they wouldn’t get through customs. However, Panda is willing to get an aquarium one day, so I can get some then! I also want starfish and sea cucumbers and anemone and sea horses and sea urchins and shrimp! It’s going to be one intense aquarium, I tell you. However, I’m going to have to wait a few years before I can afford to maintain such a thing. So for now, I’ll just enjoy the life that I can find when I go to the beach to play around.
Serendipity
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: beliefs, experiences, mizu, opinion, pictures, singapore, storytelling, travel, travel tales, zen
16
July
2009
Some may call it an accident, some may call it a mistake, but I call it serendipity. With every supposed wrong turn we make, every situation that doesn’t go quite as we planned, there’s something else to be discovered and seen. It seems that the “bad luck” I’ve had recently may have been unfortunate, but it has also provided the opportunity for some rich experiences. Of course, there are lessons to be learned, but I don’t like to concern myself too much with getting things right. Traveling is just about the one thing that I am ok not doing extensive research on before jumping in. In fact, I’d be perfectly fine with not knowing my next destination or how long I’d be staying at the current one, if only I had the money to support that type of travel.
Spacious and comfy.
It all started when I was getting ready to check in for my flight to Kuala Lumpur. I had inadvertently packed my passport in a purse that I had decided not to bring. Thankfully, I discovered it soon enough to still catch a ride with Mizu and Zen. It turns out that was actually fortunate, because I had booked the wrong flight (it was for the following day), so I would have been stranded there or been forced to pay SGD 60 to change to that flight, if they had space. Instead, I got a luxury bus ticket for SGD 38, got treated to gelato and waffles, had a huge seat and personal TV, got a chance to enjoy the landscape, and even got dropped off at a location very close to my hostel (saved me a trip from the airport!). I had wanted to take a bus originally, but what I fould was more expensive than flying, which is why I had chosen to buy an air ticket. But in the end, I still got what I had wanted to do.
The next hiccup was a small one, where I nearly went to the wrong airport to board my flight to Phuket. It was caught early on in the day, so I got to my boarding gate with plenty of time to spare, but even if I had gone to the wrong place, I could have found a way to get there on time anyway. Upon arrival in Phuket, the airport bus had stopped running for the night, so I took a shared airport “limousine” and we stopped at a travel agent’s office so they could solicit us. Though I didn’t book any tours, I did find out about one that I was interested in, which I probably wouldn’t have known about otherwise. I plan on taking such a tour in the next day or two.
The night view of Phuket Town.
Now in Phuket there are many beaches, most of which are a good 30 minute drive from Phuket Town. My first day there, I decided to go over to Patong Beach, which is the most tourist-concentrated one. I had booked a spa appointment for the afternoon and enjoyed some wonderful relaxation treatment (aromatherapy sauna, hot stone massage, and facial!) before heading to the beach. I had a lovely time digging up clams and those sand bugs that burrow in the sand with amazing speed. Unfortunately, I had a bit too much fun and by 7:15 I was trying to find a ride back to no avail. The bus stopped running at 6:30 and the tut tuts quoted me at THB 500! So I walked along the street, trying to find a better way and ended up asking a hotel security guard and his friend for help. They flagged down a family on a motobike and arranged to have them drop me off for THB 200. The man dropped off his wife and baby and took me over the hills back to Phuket Town. On the way he stopped for gas (or whatever it is) and I was greatly amused when they took a huge bottle of what looked like cherry syrup or grenadine and poured it into his tank. What interesting fuel! When we got to the hostel and I paid him, he then offered to take me for a spin around town. I decided to accept his offer and later he insisted on showing me Phuket Town from a viewpoint. There was a nice park at the top of a summit and a crowd of people sat on the small wall erected to prevent people from tumbling down.
Would you have guessed this is fuel?
Learning my lesson, I checked with the bus driver the next day to make sure I didn’t miss the last bus (which was due at 4) and went to another beach, Nai Harn. I had managed to find a larger clam and even a pointy-shelled sea snail before it started to rain. So by 3:20, I was standing under some trees at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. When it stopped raining, I ventured back towards the beach to get some more water for my new pets and an expat approached me, offering to take me back. Apparently he had seen the guys at the coffee shop eyeing me and he didn’t feel it was safe for me. I just needed the bus to come and all would be fine. He insisted on taking me because he was bored out of his mind and needed something to do, so I decided to go with it. I got the extra water I wanted and he took me to his place to exchange the motobike for a truck. We had a nice chat and I got a comfortable ride back, complete with a bucket to keep my pets in so I wouldn’t have to hold them the whole way.
So, it turned out that each transportation problem I came across became a new adventure, often with nice people helping me out. I believe that people are mostly kind and genuine and certainly not psychokillers or kidnappers, but I still keep a wary eye out. Everybody I’ve sized up so far seemed like a punch to the face and a kick to the groin would be enough to take them down. I’ve watched out for roads to make sure we were going the right way and noted places that we passed that looked safe enough to find help at, if I had to run away. With those precautions, then it’s just luck on who I choose to trust. People may be concerned about a girl traveling on her own, but as my expat driver told me, I seem very confident. I walk with a purposeful and powerful stride, I ignore most of the people hollering at me, and I act like I know what I’m doing whether or not I actually do. Nobody’s going to see me as an easy target. I’ve come across a lot of helpful people who have saved me a lot of hassle (and money). I call that serendipity. 🙂
Hostel LA
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: experiences, food, future, los angeles, passion, pictures, storytelling, travel, travel tales
15
July
2009
The first hostel I stayed at was cozy and cute, run by a man named Hazdy and his friends/relatives. He knew the names of each and every person staying with him, greeting us by name and remembering what we had planned for the day so he could ask how it went. Now that’s some personalized service! He lived right there in the hostel too, so he was always around. I went to him whenever I had a question, ranging from how to get places to where to eat. I trusted his knowledge and judgment and thus spent less time online searching for those answers. He even introduced me to other hostelers when I returned from my day if they were sitting in the “lobby” area.
Now I am at a hostel that looks like it is run by a couple who also live on the premises. Last night they didn’t have the accommodation type I reserved, so today they gave me free breakfast. It was tasty and filling, with toast, eggs, fresh fruit, and tea. The living room is stacked with DVDs and there are couches, oversized pillows, and these special-made recliners situated throughout the common areas. It’s a comfortable place to stay and extremely clean too. There’s even a quaint garden area in the back and the entire place has a very open plan, with places where people on the second floor can look down to see parts of the first floor.
From sports...
The first hostel experience got me thinking about how fun it could be to run a hostel. I was thinking that if I were to open one, it would be in Westwood. I’d convert one of those little homes around Gayley and Weyburn so food would be right across the street, bus stops would be nearby (especially the airport shuttle), and UCLA would be but a 15 minute walk. I’d go around the hot spots in LA to understand the best times to visit seasonally and even the optimal time of day, then I’d go searching for all the small things that wouldn’t appear in a tour guide. I’d set up a shuttle service to get people to some of the main areas in town (or at least to some reliable public transportation). I’d hire a friendly staff consisting of receptionists, housekeepers, a cook, and drivers.
...to entertainment.
I would name this little place Hostella/Hostela/HosteLA, for hostel LA and keep it extremely clean. I’d have an array of TV channels, DVDs, and books for display as well as personal enjoyment. If there’s a particular show or novel that someone likes, they can opt to trade it for something my library doesn’t have. I’d provide free wireless DSL or something decently fast and at least two computer stations, complete with scanner and printer. I’d keep a collection of plug converters for those who don’t have them. I’d have some nice wardrobes for people to keep their clothes and some valuables locked away while they’re out. The front desk would be open 24/7, in case some people get stranded on their way in and show up at odd times.
And of course a variety of great cuisine!
Ah, what a nice little fantasy I’ve conjured up! It would be a great chance for me to both share more of this city I’ve grown to love and explore it even further in my quest to provide the best inside tips. For those night owls, I’d even take them out to K-town for some BCD whenever I’m up and craving it. They’d get free reign on the kitchen so long as they cleaned up after themselves and I’d provide assistance for those who go grocery shop and buy just a bit too much for their legs and arms to handle. I’d also love to share with them the random things that they may not come across in typical tours, like the roving Kogi trucks that sell Korean food wherever they stop. If they want a nice beach to relax at, I’d tell them about my favorite quiet one in Malibu, where dolphins like to play.
Some things are more hidden away.
I have so many ideas brewing that I wish this was possible! Unfortunately, the US in general is not a very backpacker-friendly place and LA is especially so. Unless they get a car, they really can’t appreciate all that the city has to offer (and even with a car, parking would be such a pain). Granted, there are still a fair share of hostels in the city, though they’re all in Hollywood or Santa Monica. The advantage of Westwood would be the access to college life, from visiting the campus itself to seeing what frat parties are all about. This dream would also be a huge investment to begin with, what with getting the place and then converting it to the appropriate layout. It would be so cool though – meeting travelers when I’m not traveling and showing them the best of Los Angeles.
What would you share about your town?
Solo
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: experiences, storytelling, travel, travel tales
14
July
2009
“You travel alone?” they ask.
I hesitate, sizing each one up before slowly nodding my head in confirmation.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Oh, you not scared? So brave!” they exclaim.
It’s a common conversation that I have with the locals on my travels. It seems that every friendly soul who strikes up a conversation with me will ask if I’m alone and finds it admirable that I am alone. I guess that’s fair enough – I’ve yet to see another girl traveling alone. We really are few and far between, especially in Asia. But to me, this type of travel is not so abnormal, so it’s just vacationing as usual.
Sometimes I want to ask these people, “Should I be scared?” After all, that’s what they’re implying. Nevertheless, I am not scared and see no real reason to be. Most people ignore me and those who do talk to me are just curious about where I came from. They’re all nice enough, though I still keep my guard up. There are those moments when someone walks by too close for comfort and I find myself clutching my purse a little tighter to my chest, but generally I’m not worried.
I’m always careful not to flaunt my wallet or other valuables (most of which I didn’t even bring in the first place). I carry as little as I can, typically just a small purse and a water bottle. I keep my eye out for suspicious movements and never walk too close to other people or the road. I keep my money, cards, and ID in at least two places so I’ll still have half if the others go missing. I maintain a neutral expression on my face so nobody thinks of me as threatening or too vulnerable.
So, through a combination of precautionary steps and general street smarts (not to mention locals who usually aren’t a threat), I haven’t run into any problems yet, nor do I anticipate on it.
My other half isn’t here
laelene Posted in general blog，Tags: experiences, los angeles, panda, storytelling, travel, travel tales, work
13
July
2009
For some reason whenever I travel, there will inevitably be that person who asks me, “Do you have a boyfriend?” Well, actually, yes, I do. Besides, it’s not as if I’d ever stay and get involved with any guy I meet on my trips, even if I was still single. What motivates these people to ask, despite knowing that I’m a traveler who’s just passing by for a few days? It’s certainly a far-fetched scenario that I’d be smitten suddenly and be convinced to stay longer, yet they still ask as if they have a chance. It’s an interesting phenomenon; I wonder why people are like that. I mean, deep down they must know it’s a silly idea, right?
Today a lady asked for this guy when I was waiting for the bus to arrive. I find it amusing how people always want to match make, whether or not the pairing is actually feasible. This happened a lot when I was working in Whole Foods around LA a few summers back. Strangely enough, all the sushi men seemed to be Chinese and they were all eager to match me with their sons, grandsons, or nephews (especially when they found I speak Mandarin). At least they had a sliver of a chance, since I’d actually be around the area for more than a few days. Still, it strikes me as odd that the thought is even entertained when they’d have no way of contacting me (and please, I wouldn’t give my info out for some guy I’ve never met). I guess to some extent we all need to live on hopes, dreams, and the occasional fantasy.
Today’s lady was very surprised to see me traveling alone if I had a boyfriend. Are we supposed to be glued together? Am I not allowed to travel if I’m not with him? Well, you know, sometimes people are busy and can’t always travel together. Nice as it would be to have him here now, unfortunately it is not possible. I was almost tempted to say, “I’m sorry, my other half isn’t here now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be my own person.” That’s the impression that I got – that somehow I wasn’t allowed to be my own person without my boyfriend in tow. Well, that’s certainly not the case for me! And so it goes, just me striking it out on my own for now.
