Actually useful info on Raratonga

There isn't a phenomenal amount of information on internets about the Cook Islands.  Having spent some qt there, I thought I'd do a solid for internet world and provide some of the deets we would have found useful.

Where to stay: the beaches in Titikaveka are the nicest we saw. We got married at the Royale Takitumu and were there for 7 nights – we loved it and had the place virtually to ourselves. I wouldn't hesitate to stay here again, or to rent a bungalow near by.

Muri beach is over developed and the beach is severely eroded. The lagoon that it faces is beautiful to look at, but there is barely enough beach for a lounge chair and the hotels are smashed together. The benefit is lots of bars and restaurants within walking distance, but I wouldn't stay here.  Unless its the highest of tide, swimming is in knee or waist high water.

We stayed in Aroa for the 2nd half of our time and were super happy. Its a nice beach for swimming and snorkeling and there is a lot more retail-wise than in Titikaveka. We were walking distance from a DVD rental, bike and scooter rental, mini-golf course, and a couple of restaurants.

Since both the accommodations we stayed in were self-contained, we mainly cooked for ourselves. By which I mean that Ed mainly cooked for us and I drank rum. But we did hit most of the restaurants that were recommended or we were curious about.  Here's a wrap up.

Paw Paw Patch – don't go on Sunday night for the bbq buffet. Its lamezone tourist time where honeymooners, anniversaries, etc. are “wooooo'd” and slow jams are played by an island trio. But, the a la carte menu served other nights is amazeballs.

Rarotonga Fried Chicken – the ladies aren't very friendly, but if once served from a fresh batch of chicken, we didn't mind. Like everyone in Oceania, they are afraid of salt but this can be rectified.

Waterline – beautiful setting for cocktails, skip dinner.

Razi's Indian – good! And one of the best values on the island.

Tamarind House – everyone loves it, and for good reason. Set in a former NZ official's tropical home, it overlooks a gorgeous beach and the food is outrageously good. We went for lunch, which is a bit less spendy than dinner, and thoroughly enjoyed.

Vaima – we had our wedding dinner at Viama. Some dishes were outstanding, some were just ok. One of the only restaurants with tables in the sand just feet from the ocean. They also have an awesome DVD rental that opens sporadically but has a great selection.

Wigmore's – so much more than just a gas station, fantastic fish and chips. We ate them twice and didn't feel nearly as bad about ourselves as we should have.

Saltwater Cafe – a lot of locals love this place – the food is so slutty and so delicious. Probably our overall favorite meal.

 Thems the huevos.

Trader Jacks - to see how the locals pickle themselves, belly on up to Trader Jacks during daylight hours.  Some of the food is outstanding, other dishes are a hot mess.  The action is at the bar, which we stayed away from. 

The most complete info I found on the Cooks was here.  GO!

cookislandsatoz.com

The one where I complain about Australian food, or, first world problems

We're in New Zealand now, where people can not only identify raw vegetables, but also enjoy eating them. Our 2+ months in Oz sometimes felt like a great pre-slaughter fatten up. We didn't love Australian food (save a few outstanding meals), and were told on many occasions that the Aussies weren't too fond of American fare neither. Which poses a question about taste. We all started off as Brits eating, presumably, gruel and salted meats. Have the intervening hundreds of years changed our taste buds so drastically that we can't even recognize the same things as “good”?

My beef with Australian food (pun intended) is the same issue I've had on occasion in the mid-west (no offense Chicagoans, but I think if you dig deep you'll know where I'm coming from). Vegetables are rare and when available, they're cooked, fried, or flavorless. Salads in Australia are often a pile of toppings – bacon, cheese, meats, on a bed of lettuce. “Veg” as defined in the pubs is boiled root vegetables in boiling water juice on a plate. Its gross and my jeans are too tight. Which would be okay if I'd eaten lots of lovely foods. Said jeans were too tight at the end of Tokyo but I earned those 5 lbs through competitive izakaya visiting and shochu cocktailing. After Australia, I just feel used.

Australian food also tends to be criminally under seasoned. There must a hyper effective anti-salt marketing machine at work on the island. The belief is widely held, and was explained to us more than once (unprompted), that fish n' chips is alright unless you add salt at the table. To be clear, deep fried food is okay, salt is not okay. In fact, having gone to MacDonald's at the airport I was surprised to note that the McChicken, with its breading, cheese, mayo, and single lettuce leaf, is a government approved “healthy meal.” Unless, I would suppose, you added salt. Because otherwise there's none in there and you're looking hot like OG Richard Simmons.

And back on the Mid-western tip... The Aussies enjoy their mayo. Its a sweet concoction (more Miracle Whip than Hellman's) and can be used as a substitute for any sauce a chef has included in his menu but never tasted. I had sugary mayonnaise served both as Caesar salad dressing and as Hollandaise.  Just. Why.

As an American, I'm not one to throw stones on the dietary leanings of another country. But when a nation that prides itself on beef chooses not to season or dry age at even the fanciest of steak houses, my vote is going to have to be for the Outback Steak house chain of America. Rather than, say, an actual steak house in the outback.  Which we ate at.  They served "veg."

Great Ocean Road Continued. And continued.

Days 3-5 on the GOR, we tried to mix it up between the coastline and inland roads.  The area is known for farming and has a self-proclaimed "gourmet trail" running inland from the Tasman Sea.  On Day 3 I aimed to agendize us with something for everyone: a hike for me, koalas for mom, an epicurean moment for Eduardo.  As it turned out, I was easily as obsessed as Penny with the marsupials, my Mom hasn't stopped raving about the lunch, and Ed happily lead us (to scare away the snakes) on our romp through the woods. 

Gentle Annie's is a farm and cafe that we stumbled upon while driving after our hike to Erskine Falls.  We were starved and followed cutie hand painted sandwich boards perched along gravel roads in the middle of cow-grazin' land.  By the time we arrived none of us was picky, but we could have been because we were served one of the best meals we've had in Australia.  And while I'm on the subject, may I just say that this place is pretty effing hit or miss food-wise.  Huge portions and price tags can be counted on, but its a small number of meals we've had that surpassed mediocre.  Oh, and never go to a "Mexican" restaurant here.  We've tried twice and the food has been borderline inedible.  At $25 for a vegetable burrito, I'm thinking that Chef Ole could dress it up with something superior to tomato paste.  Blergh. 

Oh, but Gentle Annie's!  A cafe tucked into a working berry farm, serving locally sourced dairy, wine and produce and baking the roof off in-house.  I ate a beef burgundy meat pie with a local shiraz and happily/stuffedily nodded off in the car before we reached the end of the driveway.  At 3:30 pm.  A moment of sheer travel kismet.

 Country Sweetness

The Ploughman's Lunch.  Bet you can guess who the ploughman at our table was...

Later that afternoon, we reported to Kennett river for koala watching.  True to Australian form, the koalas were in the trees noted in the brochure from tourist info at the appointed time.  They were pretty high up and a bit hard to see, but for tiny-brained animals, I had to applaud their punctuality.  Those little guys hit their mark more reliably than a chorus line.

Cheating while eating

Dear Mister Donut,

I have a confession to make.  I have not been faithful to you and I am so, so sorry.  Before I go on, I just want you to know how much you mean to me and how I treasure our memories.  I only hope that you can see past this one indiscretion and have me back. 

On this last trip through Bangkok, I met someone at the Empire Mall.  He called himself "Daddy Dough" but I don't even know if that's his real name.  We spent one afternoon together, and that was it.  He is nothing compared to you; flashy, too-sweet, downright immature.  It was a one time thing and being with him only made me realize that you are the one for me.  Forever.

I hope we can move past this sad event and look forward to an exciting and fulfilling future together.

Yours,
Misses Donut

Things I've mistaken for other things...

Its been quite a while since we were in an English speaking country.  While SE Asia is WAY easier to navigate than, say, China we still stumble through conversations daily.  And when it comes to non-English menus or labels, fuggetit.  The Thai language looks like a continuous Henna tattoo and may as well be for its practical use to us.

Throughout our trip, though, we've happily delved in to the unknown.  Matching up Chinese characters from a phrasebook to a toilet sign so I didn't accidentally use the men's room, pantomiming the flapping wings of a chicken for a Mongolian nomad so as to avoid eating mutton, demonstrating the size and shape and corresponding facial expression of so many things that I like/use/eat/need, to varying effect.  And thus, strictly for laughs, I list for you my most spectacular errors.

We thought that both of last 2 tubes of toothpaste we bought were mint.  Perhaps spear, perhaps winto, we weren't picky.  The one from Japan was grapefruit flavored and the new tube from Cambodia tastes like salt and Lipton tea.

I bought a pastry in Shenyang, China that I thought had a sweet apple filling but was, infact, curried ground beef.

I chose a scoop of ice cream in Korea believing it was green tea flavored - it was actually melon.  And so gross.

There were probably about 15 meat-based dishes we ordered during our month in China thinking they were chicken or pork, based on photos.  They were all stir-fried tongue.  Ed did not go hungry those nights.


Craving potato chips at the beach, I cheaped out and bought a Thai brand that looked like sour cream & onion; actually nori seaweed flavored.  But tasted like dead fish.  With ridges.  Of the flavors that were listed in English and passed over: prawn and chicken stew, barbequed pork bun, and chili crab hotpot (they can get that on a chip!).

We ordered a fish and a pork dish at dinner one night in Mui Ne.  A slab of dry, herb crusted protein arrived and I concluded it was the pork.  It was tough and flavorless so we covered it in fish sauce and buried it in vermicelli.  Only when the bill arrived did we learn that the pork was left off and that the meat was, indeed, our fish entree.

In Seoul, I bought a pack of gum that I thought was spearmint but was green apple flavored.  It tasted like the apple-flouride flavor from childhood dental checkups.

If I had a dollar for every time I've mistaken red bean paste for chocolate, I could buy a truckload of red bean paste.  Which I'd have to throw away just like all the other not-actually-chocolate things I've chosen.  I could extrapolate that I should stop trying to eat chocolate.  But its almost Christmas and that would make Santa sad.

I'd like to say that I've made some special discoveries through my mistakes but mostly I was just startled.  And then confused.  And then, probably, wishing I could spit.  If only I could learn to love sweet red beans....

Spoiled by Gabriel

Since M&J departed, we've spent quite a bit of our time in Saigon with Molly & Andrew's friend Gabriel.  He is, in 2 words, the fucking best.  Gabe has taken us to eat the most amazing food, meet the most awesome people, have the coolest off-the-beaten-path experiences, and gone out of his way to make our hang time super terrific.  Who brings bahn mi kebab sandwiches for breakfast to people he's met one time?  Gabe does.  He's the best thing that could have happened to us in Vietnam.

One of our extra special dates included our first motorbike rides (I want!) to the peninsula across the river where some seriously space age plans for development have been laid.  Riding on Gabe's bike on dirt roads along the river, past fields of leveled homes, canals where fisherman catch shrimp, and countless shacks with laundry hanging outside was surely one of the most memorable mornings of our 5 months away from home.

Before coming back to lunch at an amazing fish noodle joint, we hit a fruit stand where Gabe introduced us to the local varieties.  In the afternoon, the three of us enjoyed massages and fish tacos at Gringo's, a must-visit for anyone coming to Saigon.

The fact that someone who was a stranger only a few days ago went to so much trouble to plan our days and navigate this hectic city for us was unbelievable; that fact that we've made a new friend is even better.

Our favorite citizen of Saigon:

Motorcyclin' (with aforementioned fruit):

But then it got better....

Because Matt & Jill came!  Matt & Jill!  Matt & Jill!  Matt & Jill!  Look how cute:

In our 48 hours together, we covered quite a bit of ground - conversationally, bondingly, and block-wise.  Seeing our buddies from NYC in Saigon was fantastico and we wish they could have stayed indefinitely. 

On our first evening together we accidentally landed ourselves in a hostess bar where we drank some beers and gorged on free peanuts.  After a wander through the city and several boutiques we made it to a fab restaurant recommended by M&J's tour company. 

The second day we had quite a bit more time and a hefty agenda.  In the morning Ed & I finally found the much beloved/discussed French style pastries at a nearby patiserie and checked out the Ho Chi Minh museum across the river.  Then the four of us gathered for a banh mi tasting (3 kinds, 5 sandwiches, homahgah) at a corner stand. 

Afterwards we visited the war remnants museum which was extensive, humid, and heartbreaking.  I'd like to learn more about the war that took place here, but the museum didn't serve the purpose of filling the gaps.  Its aim is to outline the atrocities that took place in Vietnam, exhibit an incredible collection of photographs by journalists who traveled with the military, and publicize the long term effects to both humans and the environment of the toxins dropped there. 

This last lesson wasn't something we needed to visit a museum to learn about.  The effects of Agent Orange can be seen all over the city of Saigon and probably the rest of Vietnam...  Through the 90s, babies were still being born with serious physical deformities as a result of their parents' exposure.  Impacted residents of Saigon, many of them beggars, suffer from spina bifida, dwarfism, deformed limbs, blindness or missing eyes, and a range of other serious health issues.  Its devastating to witness but important, I think, to see.

Thoroughly shocked after visiting the "Tiger Cages" at the museum, we four were ready for something on the lighter side.  We visited the massive Ben Thanh market, drank some insanely delicious and cracky iced coffee and bought ourselves some trinkets.

In the evening we headed to the rooftop bar of the Sheraton for an overpriced apertif and view of the city and then to the truly delectable Hoa Tuc for dinner.  A lovely little spot tucked in the rear of a courtyard and away from the non-stop motorbike buzz of Saigon, we had a feast and hours of sparkly conversation. 

M&J's visit put our visit here back on track.  Our time together tipped the scale from annoyed/overwhelmed to amused/interested.  Having friends rulez.

One Day in Bangkok

A couple of days ago, we planned and executed what amounted to the perfect day in Bangkok. Although the US dollar has shat itself, our money still goes far in this part of the world. Much, much farther than at home or in Tokyo, por ejemplo. It didn't take long for us to seek and find affordable luxury in Thailand. And I'm not (just) talking about the hookers.

We woke up and had brekkie in our hotel. We love the pancakes, but also that we get a side of time travel, gratis. Pics of the place coming rather than embedded due to 3rd world wireless.  The dining room is religiously preserved, the only nods to modernity are wireless internet and diet coke.

After breakfast, Skytrain to massages at Healthland Massage. As one might imagine, it takes a bit of research to nail down a reputable spa in Bangkok. Some googling and elimination of the words “exotic” “happy” and “soapy” in the results did the trick. I knew we were in for just the prudish experience we were after when the receptionist insisted we have same-sex therapists. The massages were painful in the Thai way and we rolled out of there lump of clay-like.

Starved after a rough morning, we headed to a street side warehouse lined with food stalls. We ate more than is appropriate to write about. We also provided plenty of entertainment for the vendors, who looked on in astonished curiosity as we took the first bites of chili soaked noodles. So good. So much sweating. They seemed pleased.

In the afternoon, we hit the famous Jim Thompson home. Its a veritable complex of original teak houses imported and furnished by the exotic American silk importer. Sadly, he lived in the house for only 8 years before disappearing on a vacation in the Malaysian jungle. The Buddhist antiques he collected (that's the nice word for it) in his time in Thailand are truly special pieces.

We walked along one of Bangkok's many canals to get back to central where we planned to see a movie, on Molly's recommendation. On our way back through the sky walk, we wondered onto the set of a commercial. We watched 2 takes of teams of hip hop kids dance fighting – fortunately we had just watched most of “You Got Served” while in Tokyo so we could follow the nuanced plot. We were definitely in the shot, so if you happen across Thai TV (I'm guessing an ad for extreme soda) look for us farang!

The Siam Paragon makes the Short Hills mall look like a Caldor in the 80s. Coined “The Jewel of Bangkok,” its not just a mall, its a mecca to consumerism and the movie theater is appropriately grand. We got the cheap seats and were treated to monstrous leather chairs in a stadium theater. Apparently, the first class theaters offer individual lazy boys and cocktail service. Next time...

Any guide book or food nerd research will tell you that aside from street food, the best eating to be done in Bangkok is in the mall food courts. At the Siam, there are probably 40 sit down restaurants and another 60 stalls. We opted for the prepaid card to be swiped at several stalls and had an amazingly delicious feast for about $7.

On our way home we saw a festival going on at the noted Erawan Shrine.  The long walk through the city and back to the 50s was breezy and tropical.  A day of super fun planned stuff and happy accidents along the way. Done and done.

For all the Mister Donut fans out there...

I just wanted you to know that we were able to "purchase" our inaugural MisDo mug today using points from our frequent fatty card.  This pales in comparison to the collection upstairs, but I'm still equal parts proud/disgusted by our commitment and resulting shwag. 

I'd like to say that our unwavering consumerism was in pursuit of this prize, but I'm not really thinking that our intake is going to slip off now that we've reached 150 points...  I wonder if one ever reaches a point where one is catapulted into a higher level of Mister Donut clubbery.  Like, I would turn in my regular paper card to be updated and the counter person would in turn hand me a Silver card.  You know, something permanent, perhaps with a bit more polish; something that says, "I'm an executive in the elite Mister Donut partnership." 

And then if I graduated from Silver to Gold, someone would discreetly pull me aside and show me the secret handshake, which I would use to gain entry into a back room with leather club chairs and snifters of milk.  And maybe, at the highest level (MisDo Black), toward the end of my life or a move abroad that would prevent me from continuing my habit, Mister Donut himself would visit me with a dozen Pon de Rings in the clubhouse and finally tell me what the hell they put in those donuts that makes them so damn good anyway....

We were vaguely offended...

when Ed suggested we take a "before" photo.  This was last weekend on a Saturday night out for the four of us.  I borrowed Molly's hairdryer and actually applied makeup, and then we hit the town Tokyo style.

At dinner at one of M&A's favorite burger joints: Burger Mania in Ebisu

Following dinner and a walk through fancy expat-ville, we arrived at Hannah's bangin b-day party where we got down to some soul music dancing and serious cocktailing.  Because the trains here stop running between midnight and 1, we had to split before we would've liked, and the four of us sprinted through a couple of stations to avoid a hefty cab fare.  But when we returned to Sangenjaya, we weren't quite ready to pack it in.  So we hit up Toki's 80's bar, which has no table charge and 500 yen drinks.  Also, an unbelievable selection of 80's music videos, played on request.

A fellow patron, clearly a regular, told us that Toki the proprietor is basically a human Shazam.  The Aussie claims he had hummed countless tunes across the bar and that Toki, without fail, could name that tune (and usually find the accompanying video).  Same dude also schooled us on Jimmy Barnes, the "Australian Bruce Springsteen."  Once we had wrapped up a rock block of Australian 80s music - Air Supply, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, INXS - the dance party started. 

I guess this would be the 'after'...  George Michael, y'all:

There are plenty more museums to be visited, mountains to be climbed, and temples to be awe-struck by on this trip.  But when I look back on our time in Tokyo, I'm certain that one of my fondest memories will be of belting out "Freedom" with my best friend and a bar full of strangers at 2 am in a neighborhood joint.  Followed immediately by a fit of hysterical laughter and a big steaming bowl of ramen.  Best.

Kamakura - we did it so right.

Usually when we plan an outing, a daytrip, or even select a city to visit, no amount of due diligence yields perfect results.  Invariably the train we thought we'd take doesn't run on the 3rd Tuesday of the month, the beach we wanted to go to closes precisely on August 22nd, the concert is sold out, the restaurant has burned down, the moon is waning, the protesters, the hurricane, the plague, etc. 

Which is why, on the train home from Kamakura, there was some mighty fist bumping and self-congratulations on the execution of a perfect day.  Even the German judge gave it a 10. 

This website has the pertinents, if you're in the hood:
http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2166.html

Kamakura is a suburb of Tokyo, about an hour by train to the southeast.  We packed up the night before, e-mailed ourselves a few maps, and were on the train from Shibuya by 10:20 the next morning.  Considering that my old job required me to be in the office at 7 a.m. for conference calls several times a week, its amazing how difficult I find getting out of the house by 9:30.  Alas, we cleared the hurdle and boarded the train like sleep deprived puppies.

We got off at the Kita-Kamakura station at the north of the city.  I share this detail because we later departed via the south station, which meant we had an entire day of wandering and hiking with no doubling back.  Which was key.  I have an irrational hatred of covering the same ground twice.  So inefficient.

Although I came armed with maps and the GPS (for once) the Kamakuran tourist lovers have posted the city so that even the dimmest of Westerners can enjoy it without losing their way.  We started at the Jochiji Temple, which is nestled in a thick forest of thousand year old cypress trees.  Any reader of this blog knows that we have been to a mind numbing array of temples on this trip, but this one goes on the highlight reel.  As their handout will plainly and humbly state it is only the 4th most important Zen temple in Kamakura, but for me its the numero uno gordita.

Next to the Jochiji Temple is the Daibutsu hiking trail, which is windy and wooded.  Its a gorgeous walk full of staircases made of ancient tree roots, plus there are spurs leading to parks and temples along the way.  It spit us out right near the Great Buddha, which is Kamakura's big draw.  There were some American delegates there making thoroughly inappropriate jokes to their Japanese diplomat hosts about the size and shape of Buddha's ears.  Really made me swell with pride (again) to be from the US.  Let's just say I did NOT return their 'am I right fellow Westerner?' smiles.  0 points for those dudes.

Anyway, this Buddha is RAD:

After lunch and Kamakura's special ice cream (purple potato flavored) we headed to the Hasedera temple.  Though not as sublime and serene as the first temple, this one has its own merits: beach views, a winding multi-caved cave, and a million tiny Buddhas.  Though I am admittedly claustrophobic, the series of "rooms" inside the cave, which were full of carvings, alters and statues was awesome.  And I only almost freaked out, like, one time.  Which, considering we couldn't stand up straight was pretty remarkable.

The last stop on our walk from one end of town to the other was the beach.  Kamakura is a well known surfing spot and the locals have become accordingly obsessed with all things Hawaiian.  There are hula schools, board shops, a taco stand, and plenty of grungy pick ups on display in tribute to prevailing surf culture.  Gnarly.

There are about a bazillion more temples and other important artifacts to see in Kamakura.  But it was nice to leave feeling like the town merited a return trip.  Plus, we learned a valuable lesson about day trip destinations.  To recap, a perfect day trip requires the following elements:

• Seats on the train in both directions
• A linear journey through the destination with no retrodden ground
• At least one specialty food item that doesn't make me ralph
• Something spiritual for learning but also very pretty for looking at
• Hiking that is hard enough to justify eating said specialty food but not so hard that we don't have enough energy left for spirituality
• Beaches
• Fake Hawaiian culture*

*optional

Helpful hints from Kellogg's Japan

As I was folding up Ed's cereal box yesterday to toss into the "Resources Bin," I couldn't help but notice the nifty recipes offered featuring Kellogg's Cornflakes in some unusual ways.  I'm not sure that I'm down for cornflakes on tofu, but cornflakes on black sesame parfait had me at "konichiwa."  I would consider the cornflake clusters shown accompanying coffee, but I'd probs pass on cornflakes floating in minestrone soup.  I'm also going to have to vote no to cornflakes on seafood pancake.  Jury is out on cornflakes atop cup of white stuff.  I don't know what's in there.

Some stuff I've learned about travel.

Being away from home for an extended time with no real schedule or end date or solid future plan can be daunting.  Total self-direction is something that I haven't experienced before, what with the working and the regular-life obligations.  When responsibility comes in the context of a purely selfish pursuit, it can be heavy.  Every day I balance worry that I will squander this opportunity by not doing enough or the right enough with annoyance that I can't just chill out for once and enjoy my time off the grid.  Its a high-class problem to have, but a tightrope still, my friends.

All that is to say that in the 7 weeks since we left the States, I've come to a few conclusions that are shaping my approach to travel and maybe will help other people headed off the reservation.  So, I thought I'd share.

-  Stay in nice places.  I've never cared much about the accommodations on vacation because I'm not one to spend much time in the room.   The difference now is that the where we stay is home while  we're there.  This isn't a quick jaunt from our permanent residence, this is our life.  And besides being the place we sleep, its where we do research, make travel plans, Skype with friends and family, and conduct life business.  So its needs to be better than just inhabitable.  Nice vibes, please. 

-  Stay in hostels, even if you don't have dreadlocks and a backpack.   I think most Americans picture dorm-style flea factories but, infact, a lot of hostels are uber-charming and feel more like B&Bs than freshman bunks.  Most have a common area and/or kitchen, which gives you a spot to hang besides your room and a chance to mix it up with other people.  When we have stayed in hotels we haven't talked to a soul.  Socializing, even for an hour after dinner, with strangers is like an injection of new material into the routine.  We flex our social muscles and remember our couple-y A-game.  Also, we occasionally have something to mock when we retire for the evening. 

-  Figure out how much fun is enough fun.  The amount of stuff we pack into a day varies hugely.  Some mornings, we're breakfasted and traveled to our first destination by 10 and return long after dark.  Other days, after 5 or 6 hours of sightseeing, I want to go to the room and stare at the ceiling.  Being in unfamiliar surroundings, not speaking or reading the language, not knowing where we are, how we'll get to the next place, or even what the next place is, can be tiring.  I think the brain can only take in a certain amount of newness a day.  After that, let it rest.  Sponge full.

-  Research is helpful, but it can become a Sisyphean task.  I mean, thank God for the internet.  At the same time, there is so much information and so many strong opinions, I've found myself in decision paralysis more than once.  The world is our oyster, yes, but its a big-ass shell and I'm bad at geography.  Sometimes just picking the next destination based on weather, affordability, cool accommodations and 1 thing we want to see or do is enough.  Like the place we're headed  tomorrow with the penis-sculpture park.  Good times!

-  Also on the research front, I've sort of crossed over from pulling together lists of restaurants, bars, galleries, etc., to just getting a basic understanding of which neighborhoods to check out, and a map.  The contributing writer for the Lonely Planet doesn't have better taste in boutiques or bars than I do, so I mostly wing it.  We find it more satisfying to make great discoveries ourselves than to spend much time circling the address of a place recommended.  Because, frankly, there's only a 50% chance that its better than the one we would've picked just walking by.


-  And in terms of food/restaurant discoveries?  Our system is pretty much to hang out in non-touristy neighborhoods and eat in crowded restaurants.  In Beijing, in particular, this strategy did not fail.  Most of those joints had Chinese-only menus, so we just pointed at what other people were eating and had some of the best meals of our lives.  
  
I think that was the most serious post I've written since we boarded the plane for Mongolia.  Gravitas exhausted.  Seacrest out.

Sokcho, South Korea

We're in Sokcho, which is a beachy fishing town on the east coast of S. Korea, real close to the 38th parallel.  This is a popular tourist destination for Koreans and Japanese beach goers and also a good launch pad for visiting the DMZ, which we're probably not going to do because there are, like, 10 amazing beaches within a bus ride and the area is known primarily for raw fish.  So, educational day trips are just going to have to take a back seat for the moment.

Today was a gorgeous and perfectly sunny day for our first visit to Sokcho beach.  The Koreans could learn us a few things about beach going.  For example:

- Rather than umbrellas, you rent a big metal and canvass wall that bends in the middle and is propped up by a metal pole.  This provides a huge rectangle of shade and never blows away.  Best.
 - Favored Korean beach snack: hot dog on a stick covered in French Fries.  I had been looking forward to this since we got off the bus on Sunday (I pretty much talked about it all the way from Seoul) and it did not disappoint.  I guess, really, how could it?  Its a hot dog.  And french fries.  On a stick. 
 - People do NOT end their beach day at 5 p.m. to go home and shower and nap before cocktails and this I particularly enjoy.  Why? Because being at the beach is my favorite thing on earth and I would stay there till dark if given the option.  I feel vindicated when, at 6:30, my Korean brethren are just settling in with a bucket of chicken (not kidding) and big beers.  They're probably still there now.  Stay strong, guys.

Um, so onto a couple of really minor points of feedback that I'd probably share for the overall improvement of the beach experience for the local visitors. 

- Science has given us a miraculous lotion that effectively combats UV rays.  Its called sunscreen and can be purchased at the Family Mart across the street from here.  So while I appreciate that modesty dictates y'all aren't going to be wearing thongs and banana hammocks, jeans with hoodies aren't really appropriate swimwear.  We saw dozens of people in long pants or sleeves or both, with hats or hoods or both, in the Pacific today.  Maybe just SPF it up and leave the socks (true story) on shore.

- I realize that a lot of folks around here aren't terribly comfortable in the water.  And, while an inflatable tube/raft/swimmy is a sensible precaution, I feel you guys might be overdoing it.  The roped off swim area at the beach ensures that if you are over 4 ft. 6, you can touch the bottom with your entire head above water even at the highest of tides.  The life vest in concert with a flotation device and a loud shriek every time a 6 inch wave rolls in just feels campy.  Maybe reign it in a drop.

Otherwise good times.  And really enjoyed the lack of open container laws.

See you tomorrow.

Seoul, Korea

We've just begun Day 4 in Seoul and I have to say, this is one of the easiest places to navigate that I've ever been.  Seoul is spotlessly clean and well organized.  The subway is intuitive, quick, and there is usually a map within view before you can say "where are we?"  There isn't a massive amount of culture to get into, but as cities go, it kind of couldn't be more pleasant for hanging.

Our first day we wandered around the Insadong neighborhood, which isn't far from our motel.  Its kind of half arty/half touristy, but still architecturally lovely and windy and oldish.  Tons of galleries and little restaurants.  That day we also hit Jongmyo temple and the Buddhist supply street.  There is something unnerving & funny about seeing where the monks get their gear on.  Its literally an entire street selling traditional garb, candles, beads, incense, finger sybols, really anything you could need for temple life.  Watching the monks comparison shop for giant tassles just isn't something you see everyday. 

Day 2 was an epic walk that included Namsan Park and the N Seoul Tower (pictures coming!) It was a perfect clear day, but epically hot.  I'm not sure if we sweated more in the park or at the Great Wall but there seems, occassionally, to be a perfect storm of humidity, heat and direct sunlight that makes us sweat an abnormal amount.  Glamorous, yes? Annoyingly, the locals endure the climate sans-perspiration.  So when we arrive, panting, at the top of the mountain we look like we've been swimming.  Doesn't really help us to blend...  We wandered through the Naemdaemun Market, which is approximately the size of the town I grew up in, and ate the most delicious Korean BBQ I've ever had at a neighborhood joint that night. 

Yesterday, Ed was reunited with the second great love of his life, Mister Donut.  This is a Japanese chain that I'm sure many of you have heard him expound on.  We feel the MD product in Korea might be slightly chewier than the Tokyo branch(es), but no less uniquely addicting.  I once explained to Ed how eating more than 1 Krispy Kreme donut made me feel sick.  But that when that happened, my brain would rationalize that the only cure was another donut.  I can't remember where I was going with this.  But now I want a donut.

After MD, we went to the Hongdae neighborhood, which was where I had wanted us to stay in Seoul.  Hongdae University is there and its all windy alleys of boutiques, bars, restaurants, and multi-story buildings with Hof at the top and Clubs in the basement (business up front, party in the back).  We got tickets for a B-boy show, walked the streets all afternoon and had a few lunches.  The Seoul Fringe Festival was supposed to be kicking off right where we were, but it was pissing down and they must have started at least a couple of hours late, so we missed the OC. 

BUT, the show was amazing.  Its about 25 Korean kids that pop n' lock, freestyle, and breakdance in a tiny black box theater.  It probably goes without saying that the anti-gravity shit these kids perform (how does his neck support his whole body for that long?) is jaw dropping.  The audience was mostly youngish Korean girls, a pretty reserved bunch.  The contrast of the dancers blowing it out to ear splitting music within 10 feet of a stock-still, politely clapping audience was odd.  I did my part both in showing appreciation and embarrassing Ed with my seat-dancing.  Woot!

After the show, we went to one of the seven thousand restaurants in the area for Chinese-ish Korean food.  And Soju.  The Soju here is way stronger and vodka-ier than in Japan.  The hard drinking people of Seoul suck it down like water in the desert.  We had 1 small bottle and 2 beers and I sang old Elton John songs all the way home (I rediscovered the Rare Masters collection in Mongolia.  Current fave: Lady Samantha).  Its 11:30 am here and Ed is still sleeping.  Powerful stuff. 

Now, about those donuts.

Chinese food again?

A common whine which escaped my lips during the weeks we were in China.  We ate deliciously; a surfeit ranging from common street skewers to the fanciest Cantonese joint in Beijing.  The Chinese style of ordering and corresponding prices could not have better suited me and my life partner.  Ed, of "for the table" fame, could order surplus dishes as fast as he could point to them on other people's tables.  And when the bill came, it almost never topped $5 US, so I didn't feel like we were letting precious travelling Yuan languish in oily plates of excess.

But there comes a time when the thought of another Schezuan peppercorn laden sizzler or bamboo steamer of perfect pork pillows looses appeal.  This time for me came in Shenyang, where the shopping street we near housed such an abundance of fast food restaurants that I forgot I was in China.  Had there been an Orange Julius in my sight line, I could have been in the food court at the Trumbull mall.  Every night, as we left the hotel for dinner, I would jokingly beg Ed to take me to Pizza Hut.  And every night he would grudgingly agree.  I would, of course, back down.  I didn't actually want the nasty Pizza Hut pizza but just, in those moments of weakness, really looovvveeeedddd the platonic idea of the Pizza Hut. 

What I actually did crave and continue to wake thinking of, though, are sandwiches.  From delis, or home made, or the chicken/mayo/hardroll bodega monstrosity that I've subjected many of you to.  A BLT or a PB&J, even, might cure the near-fetishist feelings I harbor. 

My kingdom for a ham & cheese, people.  No fooling.

List of Thank Yous

1.  To the partiers and party crashers on Saturday night.  I've not had such a nasty hangover in years, nor such a brilliant evening to show for it.  So hot but so best.*

2.  To Capital One, for testing the very limits of my already frayed nerves in a week where just one "No Hassle" interaction would be so very much appreciated.  Truly, you are all hassle, all the time.**

3.  To our landlords for saying that unless the walls of our apartment cave in over the weekend we will receive our full security deposit.  You are the exception to Manhattan property owners. 

4.  To Roberta's where I will eat one of my last and favorite meals in NYC tonight with 2 of the awesomest people I know.  Also, micheladas.  I'm not sure who to thank for your advent, but I'll put it to the universe.

5.  To the internets, for keeping me connected with the people that I already miss, though I haven't yet left.  Sigh. 

*special shout out to Sue for music, Jenny for interior consult, and Katie for everything else. 

*that 2nd one might have been a touch sarcastic.  sors. 

I Love Asian Food, but....

I will miss these things nearly as much as my boots:

- Bagels
- Coffee in very large cups
- Thin crust non-chain pizza
- deli sandwiches

Not ramen, though.  We'll be lousy with ramen.