Came across this article from an experienced world traveler and found his perspectives of interest.
Not sure what to do with the rest of my life, but I suppose this is one option.
It’s a small world after all
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Category Archives: Travel
On the beach
Spent the weekend in Myrtle Beach, SC participating in the annual Ghost on the Coast dart tournament. I was pretty disappointed with the way I played. Several times I’d be sailing along with the game seemingly in hand, and then I’d inexplicably implode, throw a few bad darts, and snatch defeat from arms of victory. At these big tourneys I don’t expect to beat the big shots, but it is exceedingly frustrating to lose to guys I know I could beat with just a little more consistency. Ah well, that’s how it goes sometimes.
Me and my partner for the weekend. Joel threw well so I can’t help but feel like my sloppy play let him down.
Over 400 darters in attendance made for a crowded dart hall and LONG waits between matches…
Reconnecting with my old pal Duke was one of the few highlights of the weekend. Duke is the guy who first introduced me to the sport of darts in Korea back in 2005.
Checked into my tenth floor room Friday afternoon and enjoyed this view of the East Sea from my balcony.
Saturday turned cold and wet and without my yobo around to remind me to bring a jacket it was a chilling experience.
Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.
My sour mood followed me to the coast. Last year Jee Yeun was with me and I keenly felt her absence all weekend. I had several darters come up and ask me about her. Truth is, she is much more popular than I am. Certainly friendlier. We talked Thursday night at length, and the bottom line is it looks like she won’t be coming to the States anytime soon. Her mom is not feeling any better, her father’s Alzheimer’s has gotten worse, and the apartment hasn’t sold. In such situations, learn about DigiDrs here and contact expert doctors to give your proper guidelines. She said her mother is stressing out so she wants to move to the countryside to take care of her. Selfish bastard that I am, I told her I needed her to be with me. It became quite apparent that if I forced her to choose between mom and me I was going to lose her.
After a sleepless night I called her again and she assured me that her love for me was undiminished, but she was the only one in the family available and capable of caring for her mother. So that’s her priority. I do understand that. But I don’t have to like it. What I can do I suppose is return to Korea. I’d prefer to go back with a job offer in hand, but I’m not sure how long I can hold out waiting for that to happen. I did a little networking with my buddy Duke and he promised to send my resume to one of the contractors his company manages in Korea. The job we discussed doesn’t pay much, but it does provide SOFA status and would put me back on Yongsan. So if an offer comes through I’d be inclined to take it.
The hotel I stayed in allegedly had WiFi, but damned if I could get it to work. That was a pain in the ass. So I missed the email from the folks who manage my Chase credit card advising me of possible fraudulent use of my account. I did get a cryptic text message from Chase asking me if I had ordered $543. worth of men’s clothing online. These days I wear blue jeans and sneakers pretty much exclusively, so obviously I had made no such purchase. I got on the phone with the fraud department and learned that there had also been charges for over $700. in computer equipment. Fortunately, I won’t be responsible for the unauthorized purchases. There is still a pain in the ass factor in that my account has to be closed and a new card issued. I didn’t want to leave Jee Yeun hanging in Korea with no resources so they agreed to allow small transactions there until I can mail her the new card. I asked how someone could have gotten access to my account and they didn’t really want to answer directly, instead alluding to the possibility that some merchant I had used had been hacked. Damn these first world problems anyway.
And that’s where things pretty much stand in my so called life. The world is turning. I hope it don’t turn away…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKgj1FNToWY
Getting my KIX
Yesterday I pulled a DELTA (didn’t ever leave the airport) at Osaka’s Kansai International Airport (KIX). And now through the miracle of the internet you too can share in the adventure!
The day began with an 0600 wake-up call via my trusty Samsung Galaxy. I frittered around for a bit before making it down to the Airport Limo bus stop near my apartment at 0645. Said bus arrived ten minutes later, I paid my W7000 fare, and was off to historic Gimpo International Airport. Note to travelers: I’ve never seen the Airport Limo full up, but this time we left folks standing at the stop after mine. Plan accordingly.
I arrived at Gimpo without incident at 0730 and waited in a long ass line to check in with Korean Air. My flight was at 0905 so I wasn’t too worried. Sure enough, I had my boarding pass and was through security/immigration by eight. Jee Yeun had directed that I purchase her favorite perfume at the duty free store. My last trip to Kansai I wasn’t able to find it, so with time to kill I went shopping in the Lotte duty free store and found what I (she) was looking for. I was $78 poorer and also burdened with carrying (and not losing) a shopping bag for the entirety of my trip, but hey, the things we do for love!
I paid a little extra to fly Korean Air as opposed to the low-cost carrier Peach Air which I used on my previous trip to Osaka. I figured Korean Air would be a little more comfortable in coach but it was every bit as cramped as Peach. Still, I did have the convenience of flying out of Gimpo (much closer to home than Incheon) and Korean Air served a breakfast snack (cinnamon roll, yogurt, pineapple) and free beverages, all of which I would have paid extra for on Peach. Anyway, we left on time and arrived on time with the wheels down, so no complaints.
They say that no man is an island. But when you arrive at KIX you are on an island made by man.
Another benefit to Korean Air is that you arrive at the main terminal, avoiding a longish bus ride from the wasteland that is terminal 2. After deplaning I made my way to see the immigration man. Apparently coming to Japan for less than a day raises some red flags. On the arrival form I had listed my destination as my return flight to Korea. Immigration man asked me what I would be doing in the land of the rising sun. I told him I’d be taking the train into downtown Osaka and doing a brief tour of the city. He looked at some flight schedules posted on his desk, so I helpfully showed him my return flight info. “That’s eight hours from now” he said incredulously. “Yes it is” I agreed. He shook his head, stamped my passport, and I was off to customs.
Apparently coming to Japan for less than a day without luggage raises some red flags. I recounted my tale of doing a brief tour of Osaka before returning to Korea. He then checked the stamps in my passport and noticed that I had almost exhausted my second 90 day tourist visa in Korea. He asked when I was going back to the US and I showed him my flight info for September 10. He then wanted to know why I was going back to Korea. I told him I have a Korean wife who wants me to return (hard as that may be to believe). He kinda of laughed and said “oh, a Korean wife”. Then he wanted to know what was in the shopping bag, and I told him it was perfume. Apparently buying shit duty free in one country only to carry it back to that same country raises some red flags. “Who’s the perfume for?” he asked. “My wife” I responded. He gave me a look and asked to see the shopping bag. Finding only the perfume and my spare pack of smokes I figured I was good to go. Nope. He decided to search me. Well, it was more of a pat-down than a search. Not sure if he thought I was a terrorist or a drug mule. But finding no weapons or contraband he finally sent me on way.
Having successfully managed a legal entry into Japan, the only thing I had to kill was time. I wandered around the four floors of the terminal to reacquaint myself with the lay of the land. Then I walked over to the train station to see what was going on there. I guess they were having some kind of festival. There was a line of tents with merchants selling various goods and foods. And some loud ass music and dancing. I saw some wild haired Japanese girl band members posing for photos with their fans, but when Gangnam Style started blaring through the speakers it became all too surreal for this oldster, so I headed back to the airport.
I spent three days in downtown Osaka a couple of years ago and despite my protestations to the immigration and custom authorities I was never seriously planning on making the journey this trip. The only real temptation was the chance to ride on this baby:
Maybe next time.
Back in the airport I decided to find me some lunch. Lots of places to choose from, almost all of them catering to the Japanese palate. And truth be told, I’m not real keen on the cuisine of Nippon. I’m almost embarrassed to admit that after quite a bit of indecisive meandering through restaurant row, I finally settled on…McDonald’s. Yeah, I’m that guy. At least I was yesterday. I ordered me the Big Mac set and whipped out the plastic only to be told they only take cash. So, I had a yen to eat but no Yen to eat with. I was kind of astounded because everyone uses plastic money (or e-money from the smart phone) in Korea. So, it was off to find an ATM.
I found one in short order, but it wouldn’t accept foreign cards (in an international airport for crissakes!). I had a brief moment of panic as I contemplated spending the day without the basic necessities of life (beer). Although I did have W50,000 or so I could have exchanged if I got desperate. I walked around until I found another ATM and this one worked, so I filled my wallet with one Y10,000 note ($96). Flush with cash it was back to McD’s. After dining I checked my watch and saw that I had managed to whittle a whopping 1.5 hours off my 8 hour layover. The day was proving to be almost as long as this post!
I went upstairs to the Korean Air counter to see if I could score an earlier flight home. No dice. They said I couldn’t even check in for my flight until 3:30. What to do? With Yen to spend and nowhere else to go, I opted for the KIX Airport Lounge. They charge Y410 for 30 minutes, and Y120 every 10 minutes thereafter. But I bought the 6 hour package for Y3090 ($30) which provided me a cozy booth equipped with a computer, reclining chair, and free soft drinks (beers were Y210 each, and I had several).
My home away from home. Although the chair here is much more comfortable than anything at home. Considering the alternative, it was the best $30 I’ve spent in awhile.
The “booth” is basically a small cubicle, with walls about 4 feet tall. Cozy I guess you could call it. But from here I was able to explore the nooks and crannies of the internet in relative comfort. I got sleepy around 1:30 or so and reclined that chair full back and tried to catch a nap. Unfortunately, the folks in the common area were being a bit on the noisy side. So I pulled up YouTube on the computer, found a Neil Young album that I favor, put on the headphones, and enjoyed the soothing rhythms of the 1970s. I fell asleep somewhere during the last song on the album (Words Between the Lines of Age). I haven’t napped in a recliner for many a year and I had forgotten just how pleasant an experience that can be. I awoke at 3:30 feeling relaxed, refreshed, and almost perky. And with four more hours left until my flight.
The lounge came with a largish library. Everything was in Japanese, but it was still quite impressive.
This is but one shelf of several of Japanese books. Comic books!
I didn’t even bother trying to make sense of those. But there was also a large magazine rack. Also all in Japanese. But I figured at least I could look at the pictures.
Yikes! Scantily clad Japanese school girls.
Now, I’ve been around for awhile (shuddup!) but seriously, I was pretty shocked. The girls in the magazine I picked couldn’t have been a day over 16. Now, there was nothing overtly lewd (no more than you’d see at the beach really), but something about it just made me feel icky. I quickly returned the mag to the rack hoping no one would see me and think I’m a pervert. So, it was back to YouTube and mind numbing American television (World’s Dumbest) for me. And soon enough my time in the KIX Airport Lounge reached it’s conclusion and it was time to begin the process of my return journey to Korea.
Check-in, customs, and security went off without incident (I was a little worried I might get hassled over the perfume). Reached my gate with 45 minutes to spare and a pocket full of Japanese coins. Interestingly, the Y1000 note is the smallest unit of paper money in Japan, so the coins multiply like drunken rabbits (I added drunken so as not to be cliche. Regular readers will attest that I avoid trite phrases like the plague). I found a vending machine that sold cans of Asahi beer so I bought me a tall can and enjoyed it with tobacco in the smoking lounge. I noted that I had one 500 denominated coin left so I went to the convenience store and picked up a Coke Zero and a bag of pretzels. Handed the coin to the clerk and she said “that’s Korean money”. D’oh! So, I gave her a Y1000 note and wound up with more change.
The remains of the day.
Flight back was uneventful (the way I like it!). As we approached Gimpo I noticed the highways were jam packed and made a mental note to take the subway instead of the Airport Limo home. Korean immigration didn’t seem to mind my less than a day out of country and awarded me another 90 days (I only needed one). Customs didn’t care about the perfume either. I exchanged my remaining yen (except for the coins of course) for Won and then hoofed it to the subway (a pretty fair piece, especially at the end of a long day).
Only problem was I wasn’t sure about the subway route. I rarely venture out to the Gimpo side of town so none of the stations were familiar. There were two lines (5 and 9) and I didn’t know if either connected with line 4 that takes me home. I went to the information counter and despite lacking a common language was able to convey that I was going to Gireum and learn that line 5 did in fact intersect with line 4 at Dongdaemun History and Culture Park. It was a long haul but I made it safely home by 11:30.
And there you have it. I guess the only question new visitors to LTG may be asking is “why?” The short answer is because I’m stupid. When I did my visa run back in June I miscounted the days. My tourist visa expires on the 9th and my flight to the USA is on the 10th. The events described above were actually the lesser of the pains in the ass available to me to rectify my unfortunate inability to count.
How we roll
Just the bare necessities, nothing more, nothing less!
Getting ready for a weekend away from home is like preparing for a mission to the moon!
A suitcase, three ice chests, a rice cooker, a coffee maker, a Korean portable cook stove, kitchen utensils and flatware, 2 laptop computers, 3 dart jerseys, and of course my primary and backup darts, flights, shafts, and accessories..
The menu:
- Beef gogi
- Homemade kimbop
- Ramyeon
- Rice
- 2 ribeye steaks (precooked)
- 2 hamburger patties (precooked)
- 2 polish sausage (precooked)
- Pulled pork barbeque
- Cole Slaw
- Salad mix and dressing
- Celery sticks and low sugar peanut butter (my sweet tooth indulgence)
- String cheese
- Mixed nuts
- Coffee
- Beer
- Diet Coke
- Water
Hopefully that gets us through the next 3 days and 2 nights!
And now a word from our sponsor
“I don’t always travel to Bali, but when I do I enjoy drinking a Bintang beer from a frosty Bali Hai mug. Poolside of course.”
No pole required
Exotic dancers in Bali.
How could anything so right…
…feel sarong?
Going native in Bali.
Baggage blues
If ignorance truly is bliss, the airlines must be laughing hysterically.
As I mentioned in an earlier post at some point during my lengthy from fair America, domestic airlines started charging fees to check bags. Of course, the consequence of this misguided policy should have been readily apparent–people would stop checking bags, at least whenever possible.
On every leg of this trip the airline has requested volunteers to check bags at the gate due to space in the overhead for carry-on luggage. At no charge of course. So, what have the saved or how have the profited by charging to check bags in the first place?
Anyway, having figured how the game is played, we bought two small carry-on size bags and consolidated all that stuff (rice cooker, stove, etc.) knowing full well we’d get to check them at the gate for free. Sweet!
The importance of being Ernest
Man, it’s been a long time since I did domestic travel. Things are worse than ever. That crappy airline food they used to give away free (and it was overpriced even then), you now have to pay for. And that luggage you brought along with the price of the ticket now comes with an extra charge. Just more crap in the pain in the ass that modern air travel has become. Here’s the story of my getting to Las Vegas.
I mentioned to Jee Yeun that we’d have to pay the baggage surcharge so she somehow managed to get EVERYTHING in one bag (not counting our jammed carry-on backpacks). So, I paid US Airways twenty-five bucks for the privilege of actually checking a bag and put that sucker proudly on the scale. It was 58 pounds, eight pounds over the limit. “That will be $90.00 unless you can lose 8 pounds” the counter person said brusquely. Being properly motivated, I opened the bag and transferred the kimchi and portable cook stove (two items Jee Yeun won’t travel without) to a carry on sack and that brought us down to 49.5 pounds. Mission accomplished!
I asked the counter person about getting me and Jee Yeun seats together and she asked if we could do the exit row. WooHoo! More leg room methinks. But apparently there was a problem, so she gets on the phone, then comes back to explain that the exit row is only available from Charlotte to Phoenix. “Phoenix?” I ask incredulously. “I thought it was direct to Las Vegas!” She then explained that indeed my flight was going to Las Vegas, but it was making a stop in Phoenix first. OK, well I don’t remember seeing that on the itinerary when I bought the ticket, but whatever. She said she could put us in a different exit row from Phoenix to Las Vegas, we’d just have to move upon landing. Alright, fine. I can do that.
Upon landing in Charlotte I noticed that I didn’t have a boarding pass for the CLT-PHX leg, just a “reboarding pass” to my new seats to Las Vegas. No big deal, the counter person fixed me up and we settled in to wait for take off. Presently, they announced the flight was full and they wanted folks to check any bag that wouldn’t fit under the seat (no charge of course). We were going to be waiting for the one bag we checked anyway, so being the nice guy that I am I volunteered. I asked Jee Yeun’s daughter Sohee (who speaks very little English) to bring me the small suitcase she carried on the plane. She said the man took it from her when we boarded the small commuter jet in Columbia. OH SHIT! She gate checked the bag and didn’t pick up when we landed in Charlotte!
I go back to the counter and explained to the man there what had happened. He gave me a look that said “you are so screwed!” and told me my only option was to go back to the gate where we landed and see if it was still there. Problem was, we landed at “E” terminal and were departing for “B” terminal. If you happen to be familiar with Charlotte’s airport, you know those two points are as far apart as east is from west. Plus, the were boarding my flight to PHX-LAV which gave me about twenty minutes tops to retrieve the wayward bag and haul ass back to “B” terminal.
So, I did the OJ Simpson run through the airport and when I arrived back in “E” terminal I realized I wasn’t exactly sure which gate we had arrived at. E-3 looked kinda familiar so I started there. No dice I was told. Try E-6. Then I got sent to E-4 where a ground crew guy took pity on me and looked it up to confirm I had arrived at E-6. He said not to get my hopes up because if no one picks up the bag, they send it to baggage claim. Which would mean me exiting the terminal and going back through security. I definitely did not have time for that! As luck would have it, my bag was indeed still waiting at E-6. And I now had less than 10 minutes to get back to “B” terminal. When I told the ground guy what time my plane left he gave me that same “man, are you screwed” look and suggested that I “run”. So, run I did and made it back as the last of the passengers were boarding.
Now, if you’ve seen me you know I’m not in as good of shape as I once was. And a brisk walk is about as fast as I ever go these days. After running from one end of the Charlotte airport to the other I was sucking wind. When I sat down in my seat I was convinced I was having a heart attack. I could almost hear that tired workhorse in my chest pounding, I was sweating like crazy, and really breathing hard. I was hoping there was a doctor on board just in case I conked out at 30,000 feet. I am happy to report I didn’t. But I might have.
Oh, and those exit row seats I’d scored in Columbia? They were not the “good” exit row seats where you have about 6 feet of leg room. It was the row behind that one. I’m not sure why it’s even considered an exit row. You get no additional leg room, and given my belated boarding, I had to put my overstuffed backpack under the seat in front of me, leaving next to no space to stretch my tired legs. And my seat didn’t even recline! Suffice to say I had an uncomfortable ride to the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport. Which has got to be the coolest name for an airport I ever did hear. Although the airport itself is old, outdated, and overcrowded.
The rest of the journey went pretty much without incident. Both the big and the wayward bags found themselves together on the baggage carousel and after a short cab ride we arrived at the Tuscany Suites hotel right around noontime not much worse for the wear. Check-in time was 3:00 p.m. but I was told that for a mere $12.00 (plus tax) I could get an early check-in. I said “Let me get this straight. You have a room that I’ve paid ready and waiting for me, but I can’t use it unless I give you another twelve dollars?” The clerk nodded affirmatively. At first I said fuck it, check me in. But then it occurred to me that this was a matter of principle and I declined to pay the surcharge.
When I told Jee Yeun and the kids what I had done, they were not happy campers (an no one does “unhappy camper” like a Korean. We had started our day at 0400 and everyone was tired (although I was the only one who had done wind sprints). Admitting defeat, I went back up to the check-in counter and announced to a nice young man named Ernest that I had reconsidered I would indeed take the early check-in. I told him again how ridiculous I thought the charge was. He gave me a conspiratorial look and almost whispered “I’ll waive it for you”. Alright! Now you’re talking! When the paperwork was complete I congratulated him on his customer service skills and said “that’s the importance of being earnest!” He looked at me like that was first time he’d heard that witticism. Today. Ah well. Sometimes I can’t help but go a little Wilde.
Turns out, what the Tuscany gives, it takes away. Wireless internet is twelve bucks a day. Per device! Bastards.
Where in the world am I going?
At 0530 I’ll be boarding my flight at Columbia’s small but efficient Metropolitan Airport. Over the course of the weekend I expect I’ll see such sights as the Eiffel Tower, the canals of Venice, the Great Pyramid, and the New York skyline. I’ll be lodging in Tuscany.
That’s right, Sin City. Where day is night and night is day. The bright lights, glitz and faux glamor that all come together in that quaint desert village we like to call Las Vegas.
South Carolina recognizes common law marriage. Immigration and the IRS do not, so I’ll be making everything legal and tidy and hopefully completely to the satisfaction of my dear old Uncle Sam.
I’ll also be participating in the New World Dart Series event, sanctioned by the North American Professional Darts Association. Hey, if you can’t throw like a pro, you may as well get beat by some. Or so my thinking goes. It will be a good experience, especially given my fondness for harsh mistresses.
And that’s about it from here.
Surf and Turf
I spent the weekend in Virginia Beach getting my ass kicked in darts. It’s hard work being the tournament patsy and I did develop quite the appetite. After all, man does not live by low carb beer alone. They had a great snack bar set up for the tourney participants. Unfortunately, the selections were all rich in carbohydrates. Which led me to the hotel’s seaside restaurant in search of something healthy to eat. The best choice for me seemed to be the surf and turf salad and I ordered one up. After quite the wait, the server brought me a plate of leaves covered in strawberries. I said “what’s this?” and she told me it was the surf and turf salad I’d ordered. Well I took my fork and demonstrated for her that this particular salad was lacking in both the surf and the turf. “Oh” she replied, “we only serve the surf and turf on Sunday, so the kitchen must have gotten confused.” Apparently. After another long wait I got what I ordered, a tasty salad with some strips of steak and some small shrimps.
It ain’t easy keeping to this diet when I travel, although my sweetie did her best to keep me supplied with healthy snacks. And if this week’s weigh-in is any indication, the sacrifices seem to be paying off. I’ve even noticed a slight change appearance-wise. I’m still a big bellied MFer, but when poked my stomach now has some give. It used to be as hard as a watermelon. So, there’s that.
This week’s weight (still using my unreliable scale) is 263.5, down an amazing 3.5 pounds from last week and an incredible 15 pounds from the 278.5 I weighed on February 19. I pray to Buddha that I will continue to look less like him with each passing week.
My girth has dropped to 49″, down from last week’s 50.5″ and 2.5″ from my 51.5″ starting point.
Yes, I am pleased. I still have a long, long way to go to reach my target of around 220 pounds. That’s still on the high side according to the experts who claim my healthy weight to be 180 (I’m 6′ 1″ tall). I haven’t been that skinny since high school and I don’t expect, or really want, to be that thin again in this lifetime.
I’m thinking this week’s results are likely an outlier, but I’m obviously pleased to be heading in the right direction.
Although my dart game was in the toilet all weekend, I did meet some folks with a Korea connection. They had been living down Songtan way, a place I visit for darts only a couple of times a year. But we knew some of the same people and it was nice to encounter some fellow lovers of Korea. They really got a kick out of my Walrus dart jersey.
Down in old Virginny…
…Virginia Beach to be precise.
Here for a rather large annual dart tournament, the aptly named Virginia Beach Dart Classic. An interesting ride getting out here. From an amazing sunrise in South Carolina to a surprising heavy snowstorm in Virginia. The sun was quite beautiful until it began frying my retinas. Driving blind is not as much fun as it sounds. It’s 36 degrees Fahrenheit, so at least the snow wasn’t sticking. There is, however, an icy wind a blowing that makes standing on the 6th floor balcony quite painful.
Oh, the reason I was up before the sun this morning was to make the 6 hour drive and arrive in time for the two o’clock start of the Pro Cricket qualifying event. Having arrived at just prior to one, I was feeling rather pleased with myself. Right up until I noticed the start time is four o’clock. Duh! In my defense, the actual Pro Cricket event does start at two tomorrow. So you can see how I might have been confused.
Speaking of Pros, I see from the sign-up list that some of the top darters in the country have turned out. That should make the punishment that will shortly be coming my way all the more delicious.
Ah well, there’s always the view…
Temple rights
When they built this place they didn’t get it wrong.
At Maui, Hawaii, USA
Lost in the woods
In Hawaii.
A rainy day at the beach
Anyone up for a road trip to the Sea of Japan East Sea?
Leaving the traffic of Seoul behind and heading out to the country on Highway 6.
Most of the trip is two lane blacktop which is the way I prefer to roll.
You don’t so much go over the mountains as you do going through them.
A rest area where Jee Yeun refreshes herself with noodles and kimchi.
More tunnels. I swear the Korean people must be descended from Tolkien’s dwarves.
The long and winding road that leads me to your door…
…well, our beachfront hotel room door anyway.
A room with a view for about forty bucks thanks to Jee Yeun’s well developed negotiating skills.
One view from the room…
…another view.
What do you do with a rainy day at the beach? Find a coffee shop of course.
Here’s one of the reasons Jee Yeun is so special. Most folks would be disappointed that it was raining at the beach. Jee Yeun said “isn’t it great to sit here and smell the coffee and watching it rain!” Even the butterfly (moth?) seemed to agree.
Me contemplating the wisdom of Jee Yeun’s words.
Like the Morton salt girl, when it rains it pours. But that’s alright.
As they say in old Mexico: sometimes life’s a beach.
The sun sets and the moon rises
In Bali.
Oppa Bali Style
Remembering one of the highlights of my Bali excursion. The dance told the story of the Hindus, or at least one of the stories. It was chock full of good and evil, damsels in distress, and heroism. Me, I like watching the exotic dancers.
A yen for something different…
…has led me to my first trip to Japan. Well, outside the confines of an airport anyway. We are in Osaka for a couple of days. It seems like a pretty nice city so far. I’m in a Japanese-sized hotel room (small but efficient) in a pretty classy looking hotel.
And it has this feature I’ve never seen in a hotel before–a built-in wedding chapel. Sure, lots of hotels have wedding halls. This is a frickin’ chapel!
Anyway, gonna doing some exploring tonight. Maybe some darts later. Tomorrow a tour of nearby Kyoto.
More to come!
Road trip
Just back from a long drive to Enid, Oklahoma and Memphis, Tennessee. Family reunion with the Foltz (maternal) side of the family and deposited dad’s ashes in the Mississippi river so he could begin his long journey back to the sea. Pictures and commentary to follow.
I did encounter this old pioneer protecting his claim from the 1893 land rush in the Cherokee Strip.
The Seoul of New York City
Smack dab in the middle of Manhattan is a small Koreatown. I came upon it quite by accident while wondering the streets one day. Suddenly there were familiar banks, signs in Hangul, and a fair selection of Korean restaurants.