Because this is my first blog post in a month!
Okay, okay...as you can see, it's not ACTUALLY an update - just a crappy two-line acknowledgment that, now in country number 4, I still haven't written since country number 1.
What can I say? Our days have been pretty much packed, and our adorable little netbook, purchased specially for this trip, has conked out after only a month, forcing me to pen my blog updates with...well, a pen. But I have been writing - and some day soon, when we finally happen upon a particularly comfortable internet cafe, you'll be able to read the fruits of my labour. ;)
:) J
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
South Korea's got Seoul (and live octopus and karaoke
Question: What do you get when you combine 16th-century palaces, live octopus sashimi, traditional tea services, open-air markets, and the hustle and bustle of 10 million very busy people?
Choose one:
a) a very wacky Broadway musical
b) the new, obnoxious gap commercial
c) the central imagery of a little-known play by William Shakespeare
d) the highlights of my first 3 days in Seoul
If you chose a, b, or c, well...I can't help you. If you guessed (d), then hopefully I have successfully enticed you into reading this blog entry. Luckily, I don't think you'll be disappointed with what I've got to share.
Sunday: The Trip
After what may have been history's post epic round of marathon packing, cleaning, and email-sending, Kiosh and I were driven to the airport on Sunday morning by my parents. After a tearful goodbye, during which I cried an impressively little amount for someone with roughly 6 hours of sleep under her belt during the previous 72 hours, we cleared security and secured the obligatory Last Tim Horton's. This which consisted of Cafe Mochas and sesame bagels with herb and garlic cream cheese (I don't even like Tim Horton's, but in ways I don't fully understand, this seemed fitting). Shortly afterwards, we boarded a 90-minute flight to Vancouver - sometime during the safety announcements, I shut my eyes, and I awoke as we were beginning our descent. After a short, jaunty stroll around the terminal, we stretched out in the Asian departures lounge and took advantage of Vancouver's free wireless internet until the time came to board our 11 hour ride to Inchen International.
The long leg of the journey was as good as we could have hoped for. Kiosh, in a moment of genius, had registered us for bulkhead seats (the ones at the front of economy class with more legroom). There were complimentary pillows and blankets on our seats, a great selection of newly released films on the entertainment system (I watched The Hangover and Star Trek, ) and decent food and complimentary wine, frequently delivered. Between sleeping, trip planning, and film-watching, it didn't seem like long at all before we were looking out the tiny airplane windows at a huge expanse of green-blue water studded with tiny islands - South Korea.
While we're in Seoul, we're staying with Greg Kim, who had roomed with Kiosh while both of them were attending an internship program in Washington, DC last fall. Greg very kindly picked us up from the airport, and after reclaiming our meager baggage, we drove through the city to his parents' beautiful apartment. The Kims have been extremely kind and gracious hosts, and I hope that we can return the favour to Greg if he ever makes his way to our neck of the woods.
After we arrived, we were the lucky recipients of a wonderful traditional Korean dinner prepared by Greg's mother: jelly noodle salad with chicken and spinach, radish soup, beef bulgogi, rice cooked with Korean black beans, and of course, Kim Chi. And after tea, we slept.
And slept. And slept. And slept. In total, I clocked about 17 hours of ZZZs, a feat for which I am not remotely apologetic. Seriously, trip planning - even for a week or two at a time - is a time-consuming endeavor. Trip planning for a year ? Time to stock up on the Red Bulls. But I digress.
Day 1: Tuesday
The next day (Tuesday - we arrived on Monday), we had an obviously late start and then trekked with Greg to his university campus, using the Seoul Metro in the process. It's a lot like the New York metro, only cleaner. All the 'official' signage is replicated in English, which is extremely helpful for traveling - I don't even want to think about how hard getting around would be if only Korean characters were listed. After hiking up hills to rival those of San Fransisco - seriously, the city is literally built on and in between mountains - we sat in on one of Greg's classes. The class was in English, and the topic was Southeast Asia, two factors which immediately endeared it to us. Greg's professor had done some work on reforming the Korean constitution, and he was very knowledgeable and interesting both during and before the lecture. After the class, we met up with Greg's lovely girlfriend and some of Greg and Kiosh's other mutual friends from DC, and walked a short distance around the University district, down a back alley to a plain restaurant with traditional Korean seating, which served one thing - spicy sauced pork that is cooked at the table, along with rice, lettuce wraps, and other traditional accompaniments including spicy tofu soup, kimchi, and spicy gelatinous raw crab legs.
And then, our hosts heard that we had heard about, and wanted to try, live baby octopus sashimi. And that was how we found ourselves headed down a dimly-lit, salt-water smelling back alley at 10pm that night. Our destination - a local fish market - was fantastic: a huge building filled with small stalls all selling live fish, eels, sea snakes, octopus, crab, and a dozen other things that I couldn't even begin to guess the names of. Finally, about halfway down the line, Jake, Kim and Mike located a suitable fishmonger and began to haggle, a process that made me unduly glad that I was with Korean-speakers. "We" (I include myself only in principle) agreed on some fish and octopi, and then they were sliced into sashimi while we were led by the fishmonger to a restaurant at the rear of the huge building. There, we sat on mats at traditional Korean tables and were served the fresh sashimi, along with copious amounts of Sanju (traditional Korean alcohol) and beer. Although the fish was delicious - definitely the freshest sashimi I have ever tasted - it still didn't feel quite as fresh as the octopi, which wriggled on the plate and stuck to our tongues even an hour after being sliced. Despite the relatively disturbing movement, the taste was relatively agreeable (little different from sautéed squid), and the texture was quite pleasant.
Apparently, a Korean "bombshell" is a shot of Sanju poured into a glass of beer. Let's just say that, during our second dinner of the night, a few bombshells were downed - maybe, even more than a few. Anyways, suffice to say that after the plates of seafood were picked clean, we were all a bit soused. And in Korea, there is only one thing to do when drunk: traipse down to a private basement karaoke booth and belt out "livin' la vida loca."
I have to say that although I had considered the inevitability of singing horribly in front of relative strangers while in Korea, I had never fully realized the merits of doing so after imbibing. For the new initiate to Korean culture, I heartily recommend this alternative - between a horribly off-seasoned rendition of "All I want for Christmas" and several nostalgia-inducing Backstreet Boys songs, I actually had a wonderful time, and thank Greg, Kim, Mike and Jake, whose 'real' names I cannot remember and certainly cannot pronounce, for making the first 'real' night of our trip one we will never forget.
Since then, we've been to a few palaces, seen a few markets - you know, the usual. You'll have to check in later for all the nitty-gritty details, though, because the night is middle-aged, and we have to get up early tomorrow. What for, you ask? Oh, just a little tour we're going on to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), one of the most heavily fortified borders in the world, and the line in the sand between North and South Korea. It's exciting - for political science buffs - but if you don't get my smugness, I won't blame you. ;)
J :)
Choose one:
a) a very wacky Broadway musical
b) the new, obnoxious gap commercial
c) the central imagery of a little-known play by William Shakespeare
d) the highlights of my first 3 days in Seoul
If you chose a, b, or c, well...I can't help you. If you guessed (d), then hopefully I have successfully enticed you into reading this blog entry. Luckily, I don't think you'll be disappointed with what I've got to share.
Sunday: The Trip
After what may have been history's post epic round of marathon packing, cleaning, and email-sending, Kiosh and I were driven to the airport on Sunday morning by my parents. After a tearful goodbye, during which I cried an impressively little amount for someone with roughly 6 hours of sleep under her belt during the previous 72 hours, we cleared security and secured the obligatory Last Tim Horton's. This which consisted of Cafe Mochas and sesame bagels with herb and garlic cream cheese (I don't even like Tim Horton's, but in ways I don't fully understand, this seemed fitting). Shortly afterwards, we boarded a 90-minute flight to Vancouver - sometime during the safety announcements, I shut my eyes, and I awoke as we were beginning our descent. After a short, jaunty stroll around the terminal, we stretched out in the Asian departures lounge and took advantage of Vancouver's free wireless internet until the time came to board our 11 hour ride to Inchen International.
The long leg of the journey was as good as we could have hoped for. Kiosh, in a moment of genius, had registered us for bulkhead seats (the ones at the front of economy class with more legroom). There were complimentary pillows and blankets on our seats, a great selection of newly released films on the entertainment system (I watched The Hangover and Star Trek, ) and decent food and complimentary wine, frequently delivered. Between sleeping, trip planning, and film-watching, it didn't seem like long at all before we were looking out the tiny airplane windows at a huge expanse of green-blue water studded with tiny islands - South Korea.
While we're in Seoul, we're staying with Greg Kim, who had roomed with Kiosh while both of them were attending an internship program in Washington, DC last fall. Greg very kindly picked us up from the airport, and after reclaiming our meager baggage, we drove through the city to his parents' beautiful apartment. The Kims have been extremely kind and gracious hosts, and I hope that we can return the favour to Greg if he ever makes his way to our neck of the woods.
After we arrived, we were the lucky recipients of a wonderful traditional Korean dinner prepared by Greg's mother: jelly noodle salad with chicken and spinach, radish soup, beef bulgogi, rice cooked with Korean black beans, and of course, Kim Chi. And after tea, we slept.
And slept. And slept. And slept. In total, I clocked about 17 hours of ZZZs, a feat for which I am not remotely apologetic. Seriously, trip planning - even for a week or two at a time - is a time-consuming endeavor. Trip planning for a year ? Time to stock up on the Red Bulls. But I digress.
Day 1: Tuesday
The next day (Tuesday - we arrived on Monday), we had an obviously late start and then trekked with Greg to his university campus, using the Seoul Metro in the process. It's a lot like the New York metro, only cleaner. All the 'official' signage is replicated in English, which is extremely helpful for traveling - I don't even want to think about how hard getting around would be if only Korean characters were listed. After hiking up hills to rival those of San Fransisco - seriously, the city is literally built on and in between mountains - we sat in on one of Greg's classes. The class was in English, and the topic was Southeast Asia, two factors which immediately endeared it to us. Greg's professor had done some work on reforming the Korean constitution, and he was very knowledgeable and interesting both during and before the lecture. After the class, we met up with Greg's lovely girlfriend and some of Greg and Kiosh's other mutual friends from DC, and walked a short distance around the University district, down a back alley to a plain restaurant with traditional Korean seating, which served one thing - spicy sauced pork that is cooked at the table, along with rice, lettuce wraps, and other traditional accompaniments including spicy tofu soup, kimchi, and spicy gelatinous raw crab legs.
And then, our hosts heard that we had heard about, and wanted to try, live baby octopus sashimi. And that was how we found ourselves headed down a dimly-lit, salt-water smelling back alley at 10pm that night. Our destination - a local fish market - was fantastic: a huge building filled with small stalls all selling live fish, eels, sea snakes, octopus, crab, and a dozen other things that I couldn't even begin to guess the names of. Finally, about halfway down the line, Jake, Kim and Mike located a suitable fishmonger and began to haggle, a process that made me unduly glad that I was with Korean-speakers. "We" (I include myself only in principle) agreed on some fish and octopi, and then they were sliced into sashimi while we were led by the fishmonger to a restaurant at the rear of the huge building. There, we sat on mats at traditional Korean tables and were served the fresh sashimi, along with copious amounts of Sanju (traditional Korean alcohol) and beer. Although the fish was delicious - definitely the freshest sashimi I have ever tasted - it still didn't feel quite as fresh as the octopi, which wriggled on the plate and stuck to our tongues even an hour after being sliced. Despite the relatively disturbing movement, the taste was relatively agreeable (little different from sautéed squid), and the texture was quite pleasant.
Apparently, a Korean "bombshell" is a shot of Sanju poured into a glass of beer. Let's just say that, during our second dinner of the night, a few bombshells were downed - maybe, even more than a few. Anyways, suffice to say that after the plates of seafood were picked clean, we were all a bit soused. And in Korea, there is only one thing to do when drunk: traipse down to a private basement karaoke booth and belt out "livin' la vida loca."
I have to say that although I had considered the inevitability of singing horribly in front of relative strangers while in Korea, I had never fully realized the merits of doing so after imbibing. For the new initiate to Korean culture, I heartily recommend this alternative - between a horribly off-seasoned rendition of "All I want for Christmas" and several nostalgia-inducing Backstreet Boys songs, I actually had a wonderful time, and thank Greg, Kim, Mike and Jake, whose 'real' names I cannot remember and certainly cannot pronounce, for making the first 'real' night of our trip one we will never forget.
Since then, we've been to a few palaces, seen a few markets - you know, the usual. You'll have to check in later for all the nitty-gritty details, though, because the night is middle-aged, and we have to get up early tomorrow. What for, you ask? Oh, just a little tour we're going on to the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), one of the most heavily fortified borders in the world, and the line in the sand between North and South Korea. It's exciting - for political science buffs - but if you don't get my smugness, I won't blame you. ;)
J :)
Friday, September 25, 2009
Jitters and Twitter
I feel a bit like I'm slowly siphoning my presence out of the real world and into the internet. There is less than one week left until takeoff, and the next few days will be packed with tearful goodbyes, the cleaning out and packing up of my possessions, and the 'official' passing off of the non-profit organizations and projects that I am currently in charge of. At the same time, however, I have started this blog, set up Skype and AIM accounts, and obsessively filled out the Gmail contact address option for every person I have ever known (the better to send them all postcards). As a result, I am left feeling like there is somewhat less me, and more... e-Me.
Now, this is all well and good. Some days ago, however, I hit a new low when I became a Twitter-er. For those of you who have so far managed to sidestep this new 'cultural phenomenon,' Twitter is an online social networking site obviously created by someone who liked the concept of the Facebook status update so much that s(he) decided to house these updates in (what appears to me to be) a completely superfluous new bastion of e-narcissism.
Sometime in the past week, I finally figured out the one redeeming use for Twitter: during extended and perilous whirlwind journeys, it can be used to assure Facebook-less parents that one's physical and mental faculties are more or less still intact. It was this weak utilitarian logic that convinced me to procure coveted Twittering privileges of my very own. Furthering my shame, I have procured a widget which displays my Twitters, in all their glory, in a location just to the left of this post. Here's to describing the world's wondrous bounty in 140 characters or less!
Rest assured, concerned reader, that some slightly more serious (and less ridiculous) steps toward trip readiness have also been taken since last I wrote. The Boyfriend and I have scoured the city in search of guidebooks, phrase books, anti-bacterial travel towels, and a first-aid kit stocked with enough antiseptic and painkillers to allow us to perform amputations in the backwoods of Nepal. (Just kidding. Seriously, do you know how heavy that much antiseptic would be?) Phone bills have been canceled, adequate (i.e. very, very comprehensive) medical insurance has been located, and, most importantly, all of our favourite restaurants have been revisited. (What? I make my own fun).
In short, my to-do list has been substantially whittled, and while it's by no means ready to hit the recycling bin, we're basically ready to go. By that, I mean that almost all necessary equipment has been purchased, finances are arranged, and adequate measures to ensure our health and safety have been taken. I don't, of course, mean that I could skip off to the airport right now without a second thought. Nine months is a long time to bounce around the world without a permanent (or even semi-permanent) place to rest one's head. The realities of heading off into the Great Unknown (which, from what I can tell, looks absolutely nothing like The Known) are looking a lot more...well, real...this side of September. And they're getting in the way of the glee.
But that's okay. 'Travel,' after all, isn't derived from the Latin word for 'having a gay old time.' It comes from the French 'travail': work. I'm going to see a lot this year, do a lot, and learn a lot. Hopefully, I'll have a blast. But I know that the two aren't synonymous. And I'm okay with that.
Now, if you'd like to find me in two months, homesick, mud-covered and coffee-deprived, and make me eat my words...be my guest. (Although not really, actually, since I won't have a house. Find your own hostel.)
J :)
Now, this is all well and good. Some days ago, however, I hit a new low when I became a Twitter-er. For those of you who have so far managed to sidestep this new 'cultural phenomenon,' Twitter is an online social networking site obviously created by someone who liked the concept of the Facebook status update so much that s(he) decided to house these updates in (what appears to me to be) a completely superfluous new bastion of e-narcissism.
Sometime in the past week, I finally figured out the one redeeming use for Twitter: during extended and perilous whirlwind journeys, it can be used to assure Facebook-less parents that one's physical and mental faculties are more or less still intact. It was this weak utilitarian logic that convinced me to procure coveted Twittering privileges of my very own. Furthering my shame, I have procured a widget which displays my Twitters, in all their glory, in a location just to the left of this post. Here's to describing the world's wondrous bounty in 140 characters or less!
Rest assured, concerned reader, that some slightly more serious (and less ridiculous) steps toward trip readiness have also been taken since last I wrote. The Boyfriend and I have scoured the city in search of guidebooks, phrase books, anti-bacterial travel towels, and a first-aid kit stocked with enough antiseptic and painkillers to allow us to perform amputations in the backwoods of Nepal. (Just kidding. Seriously, do you know how heavy that much antiseptic would be?) Phone bills have been canceled, adequate (i.e. very, very comprehensive) medical insurance has been located, and, most importantly, all of our favourite restaurants have been revisited. (What? I make my own fun).
In short, my to-do list has been substantially whittled, and while it's by no means ready to hit the recycling bin, we're basically ready to go. By that, I mean that almost all necessary equipment has been purchased, finances are arranged, and adequate measures to ensure our health and safety have been taken. I don't, of course, mean that I could skip off to the airport right now without a second thought. Nine months is a long time to bounce around the world without a permanent (or even semi-permanent) place to rest one's head. The realities of heading off into the Great Unknown (which, from what I can tell, looks absolutely nothing like The Known) are looking a lot more...well, real...this side of September. And they're getting in the way of the glee.
But that's okay. 'Travel,' after all, isn't derived from the Latin word for 'having a gay old time.' It comes from the French 'travail': work. I'm going to see a lot this year, do a lot, and learn a lot. Hopefully, I'll have a blast. But I know that the two aren't synonymous. And I'm okay with that.
Now, if you'd like to find me in two months, homesick, mud-covered and coffee-deprived, and make me eat my words...be my guest. (Although not really, actually, since I won't have a house. Find your own hostel.)
J :)
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Seoul streets and bug buffets
It is 12:18am. I am supposed to be volleying off yet another round of edits for the October issue of SpeakNews, the Edmonton-based human rights magazine that I currently edit. Instead, however, I am resolutely sipping a Dr. Pepper slurpee, and looking at the results of a Google image search for Seoul. I am doing this rather composedly - or I was, at least, until the fifth image to come up on the screen makes me giggle like a schoolgirl on helium:
I am going there. In 17 days, I may be standing in that very street. I take enormous satisfaction in the certainty of this - in the fact that my seat on a plane traveling to this bastion of exotic wonder is already booked, and that, in a little over two weeks, I will be sitting in it. I also take a certain comfort in the presence of English signage in this picture, even though it only appears useful to connote the presence of beer and something that is 'hot' (hopefully, not the beer).
Emboldened, I try another image search - this time, for Bangkok, Thailand. Once again, an image just a few rows down makes me smile. It appears to depict a Thai street food cart laden with platters of Pad Thai and other wonderful dishes. I click on it. When the larger image appears on the screen, I laugh even harder than before:
(If you can't see, just show this picture to a bunch of people until one screams. That's right - this is a bug buffet).
This dual reaction - feverish anticipation, and a nearly simultaneous sense of the creepy-crawlies - has been my experience with most of our trip planning and preparation thus far. On the one hand: Glamour! Adventure! Fabulous cultures, with which I have had little experience and less contact! And on the other: said cultures, only less glamorous and more terrifying. And accompanied, of course, by more bugs.
My boyfriend, Kiosh, and I met during our second year of a four-year undergraduate program at the University of Alberta. Some months after we began dating, we decided, somewhat fancifully, that upon graduation, we would reward ourselves with a fabulous round-the-world trip. Since then, our fantastic getaway has been often discussed, but seldom solidified. Apart from two relatively ill-advised India guidebooks we bought each other for Christmas some time ago, we've been all talk.
Until a few months ago, that is, when the University decided that we had learned quite enough for the time being, thank-you-very-much (in other words, we graduated). Suddenly, we were plotting a road map through Southeast Asia, researching visas, visiting travel immunization clinics, and Facebooking Korean ex-roommates to see if we could grab a couch in Seoul.
The plan, thus far, is this: Kiosh and I will be taking off for somewhere from 9 months to one year, and seeing as much of the world as we can jam into it, armed with some (thankfully) sizeable savings, two 60 L backpacks, all the immunizations the wonderful Canadian medical system can offer, and our passports. Our trip will be divided into several legs, and though specifics fuzz up towards the end, here are our tentative plans:
Leg One (October - mid December): Southeast Asia. We will be starting with a week in Seoul, South Korea, visiting a great Korean guy who was Kiosh's roommate in Washington this past fall. From there, we will fly to Hanoi, Vietnam, and explore the country before heading up the Mekong Delta into Cambodia, to hike and explore Angkor Wat. Our other major destination in Southeast Asia is Thailand, where we'll spend about a month. A few days in Laos and a week in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia are also hopefully on the agenda.
Leg Two (mid-December - February): Australia's Eastern Coast. Kiosh's dad lives on an acreage near Byron Bay, a hippie town on the eastern coast of Australia about 2 hours from Brisbane. We will be spending about a month there, relaxing and spending time with his family over the holidays. I'll be doing some visiting too - my best friend is a freshly minted law student at Bond University, which is just a few hours away from where we'll be. After Christmas, we'll see as much of the Gold Coast as possible, including Sydney and (if the stars happen to align correctly) the Barrier Reef. Our main enemy in Australia is distance - the country is effing huge.
Leg Three (February - April): India. We'll probably spend around two months in India, although this leg may be extended depending on how the trip pans out. As we can't take guidebooks with us for any place further along our itinerary than Vietnam (because of the extra weight), and because I've been so busy reading up on the first few countries we'll be visiting, I can't report a detailed itinerary for India yet. To be honest, we'll probably plan this leg whilst chilling on Australian beaches (be jealous). Both of us, however, are extremely excited for this part of the trip. I've never been to India, and am incredibly excited go, while Kiosh spent extensive time there as a kid and is eager to go back.
Leg Four: The Rest! Other definites on our itinerary include Egypt; seeing some of China before taking the Trans-Siberian railway into Russia; and packing in as much of mainland and Mediterranean Europe (Barcelona, Paris, and Crete - oh, my!) as possible before the money runs out.
We'll probably be returning to Canada sometime next summer or fall, depending on how next year shapes up. I'm applying to grad schools right now, as well as internship opportunities abroad with CIDA, and Kiosh is thinking about teaching English in China for a year to practice his Mandarin. Our plans for 2010-2011 will have a definite impact on when we return.
I've started this blog for the same reason you can't sneeze on Blogger without giving 2 million other twenty-something traveler blogs a cold: because it lets me update many folks at home in a single swoop; because it'll likely be fun and cathartic for me to ruminate on my overseas experiences while I bang them out on our 10.1" adorable little netbook; and because, as one of my professors pointed out, if we get captured by rebels or come down with swine flu, we'll want as many lines of communication open as possible.
:) J
I am going there. In 17 days, I may be standing in that very street. I take enormous satisfaction in the certainty of this - in the fact that my seat on a plane traveling to this bastion of exotic wonder is already booked, and that, in a little over two weeks, I will be sitting in it. I also take a certain comfort in the presence of English signage in this picture, even though it only appears useful to connote the presence of beer and something that is 'hot' (hopefully, not the beer).
Emboldened, I try another image search - this time, for Bangkok, Thailand. Once again, an image just a few rows down makes me smile. It appears to depict a Thai street food cart laden with platters of Pad Thai and other wonderful dishes. I click on it. When the larger image appears on the screen, I laugh even harder than before:
(If you can't see, just show this picture to a bunch of people until one screams. That's right - this is a bug buffet).
This dual reaction - feverish anticipation, and a nearly simultaneous sense of the creepy-crawlies - has been my experience with most of our trip planning and preparation thus far. On the one hand: Glamour! Adventure! Fabulous cultures, with which I have had little experience and less contact! And on the other: said cultures, only less glamorous and more terrifying. And accompanied, of course, by more bugs.
My boyfriend, Kiosh, and I met during our second year of a four-year undergraduate program at the University of Alberta. Some months after we began dating, we decided, somewhat fancifully, that upon graduation, we would reward ourselves with a fabulous round-the-world trip. Since then, our fantastic getaway has been often discussed, but seldom solidified. Apart from two relatively ill-advised India guidebooks we bought each other for Christmas some time ago, we've been all talk.
Until a few months ago, that is, when the University decided that we had learned quite enough for the time being, thank-you-very-much (in other words, we graduated). Suddenly, we were plotting a road map through Southeast Asia, researching visas, visiting travel immunization clinics, and Facebooking Korean ex-roommates to see if we could grab a couch in Seoul.
The plan, thus far, is this: Kiosh and I will be taking off for somewhere from 9 months to one year, and seeing as much of the world as we can jam into it, armed with some (thankfully) sizeable savings, two 60 L backpacks, all the immunizations the wonderful Canadian medical system can offer, and our passports. Our trip will be divided into several legs, and though specifics fuzz up towards the end, here are our tentative plans:
Leg One (October - mid December): Southeast Asia. We will be starting with a week in Seoul, South Korea, visiting a great Korean guy who was Kiosh's roommate in Washington this past fall. From there, we will fly to Hanoi, Vietnam, and explore the country before heading up the Mekong Delta into Cambodia, to hike and explore Angkor Wat. Our other major destination in Southeast Asia is Thailand, where we'll spend about a month. A few days in Laos and a week in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia are also hopefully on the agenda.
Leg Two (mid-December - February): Australia's Eastern Coast. Kiosh's dad lives on an acreage near Byron Bay, a hippie town on the eastern coast of Australia about 2 hours from Brisbane. We will be spending about a month there, relaxing and spending time with his family over the holidays. I'll be doing some visiting too - my best friend is a freshly minted law student at Bond University, which is just a few hours away from where we'll be. After Christmas, we'll see as much of the Gold Coast as possible, including Sydney and (if the stars happen to align correctly) the Barrier Reef. Our main enemy in Australia is distance - the country is effing huge.
Leg Three (February - April): India. We'll probably spend around two months in India, although this leg may be extended depending on how the trip pans out. As we can't take guidebooks with us for any place further along our itinerary than Vietnam (because of the extra weight), and because I've been so busy reading up on the first few countries we'll be visiting, I can't report a detailed itinerary for India yet. To be honest, we'll probably plan this leg whilst chilling on Australian beaches (be jealous). Both of us, however, are extremely excited for this part of the trip. I've never been to India, and am incredibly excited go, while Kiosh spent extensive time there as a kid and is eager to go back.
Leg Four: The Rest! Other definites on our itinerary include Egypt; seeing some of China before taking the Trans-Siberian railway into Russia; and packing in as much of mainland and Mediterranean Europe (Barcelona, Paris, and Crete - oh, my!) as possible before the money runs out.
We'll probably be returning to Canada sometime next summer or fall, depending on how next year shapes up. I'm applying to grad schools right now, as well as internship opportunities abroad with CIDA, and Kiosh is thinking about teaching English in China for a year to practice his Mandarin. Our plans for 2010-2011 will have a definite impact on when we return.
I've started this blog for the same reason you can't sneeze on Blogger without giving 2 million other twenty-something traveler blogs a cold: because it lets me update many folks at home in a single swoop; because it'll likely be fun and cathartic for me to ruminate on my overseas experiences while I bang them out on our 10.1" adorable little netbook; and because, as one of my professors pointed out, if we get captured by rebels or come down with swine flu, we'll want as many lines of communication open as possible.
:) J
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