Faraway Fantasy Friday: Chiang Mai

Traditionally, I've not been a Southeast Asia kind of girl. I'm a Europhile, through and through. But as I follow the expat community more and more, I hear more and more about the merits of spending large amounts of time in places like Chiang Mai. It's a not-so-secret-secret. It's more like a staple of travelers everywhere.

I recently read an article by an expat who lives there. She lives quite well in a simple apartment sans kitchen. Her cost of living, monthly, including feeding a major coffee addiction (something I don't have) and a penchant for foot and back massages is around $500/month.

That's right. $500/month.

Before my car was paid off, I spent more than that on the monthly payment. (Of course, I paid it off in half the time of the loan...)

$500/month!

Chiang Mai's lush jungles and ancient civilization are calling me today, along with a $500/month budget.

Photo found here

Where do you want to be today?

Greek Isles: Koufonissia

It's never good when you can see the end to something you don't want to end. Arriving at Koufonissia was bittersweet.

The bitter: it would be the last stop on my week-long journey island hopping in Greece before arriving in the final destination (Santorini). The sweet: Koufonissia is a REALLY great island.

It's got this great, tiny island vibe, it's very intimate, fun to trek around, and has the most beautiful beach (Sorry, no pics, I was too busy swimming) I've seen yet in the Greek isles (white sand beach, not a rock beach!) and also really cool sea caves on the far side of the island.

If you're lucky enough to venture over to Koufonissia (reachable by ferry), stay at a locally run pension or B&B, sit along the waterfront and watch the boats come and go, and eat dinner at Capetan Nicolas'. Fabulous restaurant! You pick out your fish and they cook it up any way you want. Then pick out your sides from a buffet and they bring it all to you. Delish!!

I'll be visiting Koufonissia again.

The Light at the End...

... of the proverbial tunnel looks more like the spotlight used in dark interrogation rooms than a welcomed bit of lucid salvation at the moment.

The past few weeks have been rather brutal. It's been a batten-down-the-hatches-and-hunker-down kind of time. And now that things have calmed down, I find myself rather nervous, perhaps a bit untrusting that I can, indeed, stick my arms, legs, head and body of of the cave I've crawled into and take a peek at the sunshine without fear of being bombarded again...

It's a curious thing, to try and re-enter one's life. I've experienced this phenomenon many, many times. You know, the feeling of being an alien in one's own skin (or house, or job, or whatever...) I feel as though I need to jump up and down and test every floorboard in my home for soundness, kick the tires of my car and then dust, polish and clean everything around me thoroughly.

Actually, my house probably could use a good spring cleaning now that I think about it... Is it still spring? No? August, you say?

Close enough.

The odd thing about this time around, this time of testing and cleaning and renewal, is that I don't feel like jumping in headfirst. I know that there's a hard-stop ahead. I'll be moving abroad soon, and I don't want to throw myself back into my old life, caution to the wind and all that. I want to bottle up all of that creative energy and save it. I want to throw it all into a new life, one that I don't have yet.

And I don't think that's quite healthy. What do you think? I think I have to get over this over-abundance of caution that I'm feeling right now and keep living the heck outta this life, every day.

I have the opportunity to go to several activities and retreats in the next few months. Sailing lessons. A trip to Tahoe. Camping the coast. Normally I'd jump at the opportunities. But I feel slightly... blasé about everything right now. Perhaps it's the self-preservation instinct still going strong. And if so, I need to something drastic, like hurl myself out of a plane with a parachute strapped to my back to overcome it. Maybe. Probably not.
Why not?

But meanwhile, while I'm getting over the interim doldrums and preparing for so many things all at once, I'm stretching my legs, poking them cautiously out of my silk cocoon and testing my newfound wings, getting ready to fly, in this life and keep on going, all the way to Italy next year.

What are you up to, lately?

Greek Isles: Amorogos Anchorage & A Universal Remedy

After a full day and night of fun on Amorogos, my little boat and crew were ready for a change, but not quite ready to leave Amorogos. So we decided to sail around to a cove we'd seen during our explorations the previous day and anchor for the night.

Best.Decision.Ever. (Despite what would happen next... wait for it!)

Amorogos' port area is by no means industrial, large, noisy or buzzing. It's quite charming. But for the solitary lot, the type of people who thrive on quiet and peace, which my group very much was, a night at anchor bests any night in a port.

So we moved. Quick and simple, we dropped anchor into the seaweed-bottomed cove and jumped in for a swim. School children played near the shore and the crews of two other boats frolicked about near their own vessels.

A cute, Greek church sat happily atop a hill in the distance and we lay in the sea as the sunset appeared over the church, painting the sky in vibrant oranges and reds.

Get out of the water. Sunset is not the time to be in the bay.
It was a niggling little feeling I had pressing at the back of my mind.
But my friend Kerry was telling one of the most hilarious first-date stories I'd ever heard, so instead of speeding back to the boat, we kicked and lazed our way gently back toward the boat, enjoying the hilarity of the tale.

Get out of the water. There it was again. I sped us up a bit and just as Kerry reached the top step on the aft end of the boat, ZAP!

OUCH.

I quickly pulled myself over to the stairs and out of the water.

"Something stung me." I announced. But the pain wasn't terrible, just annoying... So none of us thought much of it.

I hopped into a hot shower (we'd been running the engine for showers that evening) and when I stepped out, the annoying sting had developed into a persistent burning sensation behind my knee.

"OHMYGOSHLOOKATYOURLEG!" Exclaimed another boatmate, which brought our skipper, Robin over straightaway.

"Are you dizzy? Can you breathe?" He pulled out his iphone and began typing madly, searching first for nearby hospitals and then, when I assured him I was fine and could breathe perfectly well, but my leg was now on fire, for jellyfish sting remedies.

And what was the verdict? What was the magical remedy to cure my sting?

(It did not involve bodily fluids. One website said this: "Contrary to pop culture propigated by the TV show, Friends, Urinating on a Jellyfish sting is not helpful.")

Vineagar.

Vineagar neutralizes the venom in the pods from the jelly stings. The best remedy is to keep applying vinegar, swim in salt water and stay out of fresh water, as fresh water re-activates the venom pods.

Viola. Venom pods.

Which is why my hot shower made the stings BURN like the dickens.

Vinegar. The same vinegar you put on salads, the same vinegar that I discovered days before would repel mosquitoes and take away the itch after a bite.  Who knew vinegar was so gosh-darned useful? Definitely a boat staple.

So I applied the vinegar. Over and over and over. For days. I bought my own bottle in Santorini and smelled like a distillery for weeks. But it worked.

So, that makes the tally of Christy's crazy serious-yet-okay injuries on this trip TWO,
1. Epic thumb dislocation.
2. Jellyfish sting.

I might be a little bit accident prone.

A World Made of... Salt

Just outside of Wendover, Nevada, on the Utah side of the border is a really, really cool spot: The Bonneville Salt Flats.

You might actually recognize this place. It's fairly famous. Films have been made here. (World's fastest Indian, and, of course, Pirates of the Caribbean 3). If you visit at the right time of year, you'll see lines of cars, SUVs and Motor Homes out on the flats, along the horizon, all there to check out the land-speed trials.

It's a crunchy, saline, dry world, crusted over with NaCl. You can take a walk, or even drive your car out onto the flats. But don't forget to rinse off afterward. Salt is a little bit uncomfortable, and corrosive to car paint.

I've wanted to take sunrise/sunset pictures here for ages. I've passed through before, but usually when the sun has been at it's zenith - a brutal, blinding time for photo taking. With an early wake-up call, I had a bit of better luck with light this trip:

Dear Mr. Redford,

The day after my Uncle's funeral I needed... something.

Instead of driving home from Utah on Sunday in order to be back at work on Monday (after just having driven 13 hours, all night, on Friday to get to Utah), I decided to take an extra day and drive back Monday. That meant that I had all of Sunday to rest, recuperate and relax.

It was a necessary thing, at that point, being on the brink of falling over from exhaustion, as I was. But a very basic problem presented itself quite early on in the day. The problem was that Utah has never been a relaxing place for me. For me, places carry visceral, emotional memory. 
Is it the same for you?
I associate places with times in my life, be they good, bad or somewhere in the middle.

Idaho: No thanks
Utah: Blech, stress and too many Mormons. (Can I say that? I'm Mormon. I just said it. There.)
California: Mostly good (except for the high cost of living, liberal yahoos, pollution, granolas, traffic and other such ridiculousness)
Caribbean: Heaven
Virginia: Home
Rome: Elysium
Craft Stores: Hell on earth
Airplanes: Exciting

SO there I was. In Blech. I mean Utah. For a whole day. With nothing to do and nowhere to go. I knew that I needed to accomplish two specific things to make the day successful:
1. A long nap. 
2. A hike.
(A Cafe Rio Salad would have made the day a trifecta, but I was in Utah and Cafe Rio is close-d on the Sabbath in Utah, which is great, unless one is traveling and wants to eat Cafe Rio every.freaking.day.)

Immediately, I was at an impasse. Where could I go to take a nap and not be bothered for a few hours? And then go for a hike? Where would I be welcomed with my blanket under a tree and not woken by hormonal college students or screaming children (a rarity in the area of "Family Town, USA")?

Sorting through the mental haze of jello-pudding-like goo that was my brain at that point, an answer popped into my head and off I shot! Down the freeway, like a semi-sluggish, sleep-deprived rocket I drove, then up the Provo Canyon and through the tunnel, ultimately hanging a louie and making for Robert Redford's little piece of respite in Utah. Sundance.

I don't know why Mr. Redford chose Utah, of all places, to create his blissfully relaxing resort, but I'm oh-so-glad he did. And oh-so-gladder that he chose a spot near Provo (one of the muscle-memory proverbial black holes in my universe). When I was at school at the "Y," I could always count on the fact that a little journey up the Canyon to Sundance would buoy my over-worked, over-stressed and otherwise mentally fatigued facilities.

This particular Sunday was no exception to my expectations. But this particular Sunday, I approached the place not as a student going for a hike, but as a grown-up traveler looking for some down-time.
I carried my blanket from the car to a patch of grass near the pond. It was a spot I'd lounged lazily at after many-a-hike. The deep gurgle of water rushing through the pond and on down the mountain coupled with other mountainous sounds - birds chirping, trees rustling, wind. I closed my eyes, only to open them again two hours later, feeling perfectly secure, perfectly content and absolutely comfortable that I was in a spot that no one would ask me to leave.

You know what I mean, don't you? Most nice resorts won't allow random people to nap on blankets on their lawns. A stuck-up looking concierge or the like will "politely" ask you to vacate the premises. Not so at Sundance. That's because Sundance is different. In fact, every staff member I encountered had the same uber-helpful-without-being-obtrusive vibe happening.

I overheard one glitzy woman exclaim to her travel partner in surprise "This place is surprisingly underdeveloped for a ski resort." The travel partner, a man who had obviously been to Sundance before, smiled a knowing smile and answered, "You think so?" He got it. She didn't. Places like Sundance aren't underdeveloped, they're protected from the machines of mass marketing and the finance geeks of the world. They exist, thriving on love and vision rather than solely on a bottom line.

I decided to do some exploring, and visited the art gallery and the glass-blowing facility. Both places I'd never seen before, despite having visited Sundance numerous times. Next, I wanted to hike. But I wanted to do something different what I'd done during my time there at University (Primarily Stewart Falls). So I bought a lift ticket and rode the ski-lift to the top of the first, summer-green rise, where I hopped off and explored the Dry Lake Loop. Every employee on the lift line greeted me with a smile, a bit of conversation and an "Enjoy your day!" By the time I'd ridden the lift back to the bottom of the mountain, I'd nestled up onto one side of the chair, legs stretched out along the seat, so mellow I could have kept riding all day, just feeling the breeze brush against my cheek, watching the mountain scenes change all around me and enjoying the game of lazy-peek-a-book the sun played with the fluffy-white clouds overhead.

So this is the Utah that vacationers rave about, I thought. Well, it's so lovely to finally meet you.

Classy, educational, yet ultimately very protective of both the nature surrounding it, and the human spirit of creativity, Sundance Resort is the perfect place for anyone to just get away, any time of year. Until next time, my friend.

 Betcha didn't know Utah has Aspen groves. For real.

And the Funeral...

Grief is a tricky bastard.

I just thought you should know, in case you weren't acquainted.

I was surprised by it, you see.

My Uncle died. I wouldn't say that we were close like peas and carrots. But he was a sweet, soft-spoken man who was always there when anyone needed him. He and his wife helped me out quite a lot when I was at University in Utah. *Not the University of Utah.* *The other one.* (If you're Mormon and/or familiar with Utah, you know that making that distinction is a very large, very big darned deal.)

I debated going to his funeral for a couple of days. And then, when Friday morning came around, and I found myself, once again on the bawling out my guts while sitting at my desk at work (whereas only moments before I'd been perfectly stable, working away...), I knew I had to go.

So I called up my amazing little sister, who not only offered to swap cars with me,
(My car: awesome Jeep Wrangler. Gas Mileage: CRIMINAL. Her car: Comfy Toyota Camry. Gas Mileage: Much better.) but she took her car in to get an oil change and ended up putting new tires on it.

I ran home, packed, swapped out my jeep and was on the road by 3:30, heading North, toward Salt Lake. If you know the Bay Area, you know that heading North on 80 at 3:30 on a friday is the stupidest Faux Pas you can make in all of Bay Area traffic Faux Pas. 

Instead of the open road, Gridlock, and two extra hours of driving. Blech.

775 miles, one one-hour nap and two tanks of gas later (Starting price in California: $4.09/gal. price in Winnemucca, NV: $3.69. Something terribly wrong with that picture? I think so.) I rolled into my destination at 5:30 AM, showered and settled into a comfy bed at a friend's house for 4 hours of sleep before getting up and going to the Funeral.

So far as funerals go, this one was, well, a funeral. It was simple and sweet. But it was full of familiar faces that reminded me of childhood times spent in the company of Uncle Ray.

Boating on the great Salt Lake. Swimming in the pool in his back yard. A BBQ and Aunt Eudonne's famous baked beans. Learning that real cakes don't come from boxed mixes and that Blue slurpees are just about the best thing ever on a hot, Utah summer day. A red minivan. Rhubarb pie. Liberty Park.

I'd heard before that attending the funeral of a loved one gives you the closure needed to move on. It's a symbolic thing. It's a visual, visceral thing that gives us a marker to remember and associate with that loved one. It makes it okay. It doesn't fill the gap, but it makes it okay. And it puts that tricky bastard, Grief, back into the dark void it came from in the first place.

1660 miles.
Five tanks of gas.
24 hours driving.
One life well-lived, remembered.

Faraway Fantasy Friday: Sinkyone Wilderness

Around five hours north of my stomping grounds lies Fort Bragg, California and a California State Park that is under-utilized called Sinkyone Wilderness. It's named after the Sinkyone Indians, who lived in this area for thousands of years. Locally, the area is simply known as "Lost Coast."

Lost Coast is a camping/backpacking dream come true. Set in a verdant, cool (sometimes downright cold, so pack accordingly), climate on the Pacific coastline, Sinkyone Wilderness State Park offers a remote respite from all cares.

You might actually recognize certain locations as being used in the movie Jurassic Park 3. Yah, it's that gorgeous. Parts are covered in lush, green ferns and blankets of plant life.

Today I'm dreaming of a camping/backpacking trip to the Lost Cost, where I intend to get good and lost.  And not eaten by dinosaurs.

 

All images from:

http://www.parks.ca.gov/mediagallery/?page_id=429&m=brochures

Where do you want to be today?

Cruise Insider: Hawaii

Cruise tips from an ex-cruise employee: Hawaii

Aloha!! A friend recently asked me about cruising to Hawaii. She wondered: When is the best time to go? What routes are best and what cruise line is the best to take? Also, why on earth are the 15-day Hawaiian cruises the same price as 7-day cruises?

When is the best time to go?
Most years, Hawaiian cruises aren't offered year-round. Princess cruises, for instance, sometimes offers their 15-day itineraries from LA during the late fall/winter until early spring. This is because they move their summer Alaska fleet southward during those months (as it's impossible to sail Alaska in the winter) to sail the warmer climates of Hawaii and Baja Peninsula/Central/South America.

Winter time is actually an ideal time to go to Hawaii. The winds kicked up over the pacific create Big surf season on Oahu. Be sure to check out the north shore! Also, winter is calving season for Humpback whales in Hawaii. You'll see them breaching all around the islands. It is truly majestic. Be sure to go whale watching while on Maui - amazing!

Cost?
Cruising Hawaii is expensive. You're either paying for a 15-day international cruise, or a 7-day American-based cruise (see section below on 7-day cruises). Either way, expect to pay a bare minimum of $1200 per person (as of the time this was written). That's for an inside cabin, based on double-occupancy.

Don't forget to factor in your airfare. If you're from the US, round-trip flights are cheaper than multi-leg flights, and flights to LA or San Francisco are going to cost MUCH less than flights to Vancouver (Canada) or Honolulu. All together unless you live in the Hawaiian islands (and if you do, why go on a Hawaiian cruise to begin with?), a 15-day Hawaiian cruise from LA or San Francisco will cost much less than a 7-day cruise from Honolulu. I know, weird, right?

Why so many 15-day Hawaiian Cruises?
Cruising Hawaii is unlike cruising anywhere else for a plethora of very technical, legal reasons.

Let me explain. Sometime in the 1500's a maritime law was enacted that stated that a ship must visit at least one foreign country before returning to it's port of origin, unless the port of origin is the ship's registered home country. Elsewhere in the world, this is not really an issue, but along the Pacific coast of the US, finding a nearby foreign country to make port in means visiting Canada or Mexico - both trips of no insubstantial distance.

So as a result of that law, there are two or three types of cruises offered to Hawaii:

-15-day dual crossing cruises, typically embark in LA, cross the pacific (5 sea days), spend 4-5 days in Hawaii and then cross the pacific again (5 more sea-days), stopping in Ensenada Mexico for three to four hours to fulfill that crazy law. (Princess most consistently offers cruises of this type, and from time to time I've seen Celebrity offer similar itineraries.)

-7-day cruises departing Honolulu, Hawaii. One cruise line currently runs these cruises - Norwegian. Norwegian registered a couple of their ships in the US several years back in order to sail the Hawaiian Islands without needing to cross the Pacific. One of the stipulations for ships operating under the American flag is that a certain percentage of the crew must be American. This is problematic for cruise lines as Americans cost (much) more to pay and are used to working (much) less than many of the nationalities cruise lines typically hire. Having American-registered ships actually cost Norwegian quite a lot of money until they ironed out their operating costs. The result, after a few years, is that it costs as much to sail for seven days on an NCL cruise among the Hawaiian islands as it does to sail 15-days RT from LA. (I don't know about you, but I'd take the longer cruise any day...)

-Every so often you'll see an itinerary sailing from Vancouver or Victoria to Honolulu. (Royal Caribbean)

-World cruises and Tahiti itineraries also sometimes stop in Hawaii. (Various cruise lines)

Other tips:
If you're going to sail trans-pac (across the Pacific), be aware that the waters are rough! I've sailed trans-pac for months at a time and there is always at least one point in each crossing where the boat starts tossing and turning like crazy. The waves are huge. I always enjoyed it. But if you get sea-sick, be sure to sail on a larger boat, the bigger the better! And pick a cabin centered (horizontally and vertically) in the ship. If you enjoy the crazy rocking, like me, pick a cabin at either end, as far forward or aft as is available and as high up as available. Fun!!

-Ten sea-days is a LOT of sea-days. There are typically a ton of activities to participate in on boats, but if you bore easily, again, be sure to pick a larger (newer) boat as it will have more things to do onboard.

Island Princess through the Palm trees at Kona's Magic Sands beach

Bon Voyage!

Have any questions for Christy? I love helping people find the perfect cruise! Leave me a comment below.

Since June...

The past two months have been absolute madness. It's as though life has been shoved into a catapult and someone has triggered the release mechanism. I've been hurtling through a blur of emergencies, work, long hours, pain and on and on and on. Since this is a blog about, well, whatever I've got going on, here's what's been going on. It's legit, y'all.

-Had to have the tooth I had root canal-ed two years ago retreated. The endodontist missed a root and I had to (pay to) have the whole joyful process repeated. That's after a few weeks of a supposed sinus infection culminating with excruciating pain and a 103-degree fever.

-My sister went into premature labor and had an emergency c-section with her twins at 28 weeks. Sister: Medicate, rest, visit the babies daily, repeat. Me: fill-in, help out, run back and forth between home, babysitting nephew Q, work and the hospital. Repeat.

(Baby update, for those interested: Both babies are doing amazingly well. They're both out of Isolettes, in cribs in the NICU. Rhys just hit 5 pounds and Avery is trailing closely behind. Hopefully they'll get to go home in the next couple of weeks!)

-Work: Busy season. This past Wednesday and Thursday alone I worked 32.5 hours. That's in a 48-hour period. I'm still having nightmares about getting work email in the middle of the night. Sick.

-The same sister that had the c-section 6 weeks ago moved. Yesterday. That's right. We packed up a truck, unpacked the truck and got them settled in enough to be able to sleep on their mattresses on the floor last night. LONG Day.
 
I'd assumed that the move kind of book ended all the mayhem and would bring it to a close, giving me some much needed time to sleep.

Wrong.

This afternoon my Dad called with bad news, his brother, my uncle, passed away from a heart attack this morning.

We weren't extremely close, but Uncle Ray holds a special corner of my heart. He was a kind, soft-spoken, loving man. You'll be missed Uncle Ray.

--

So, that's what's going on in my corner of the universe. How's yours holding up?

There are no words...

August always means a very, very busy time at work for me. I've had one day off, one full day (including weekends) since the 4th of July. The past couple of days have be 15 hour workdays. My brain has turned to mush and I literally cannot think of a single thing to write about, other than work... And you don't want to hear about keyframing and rendering videos.

Here's to a good night's sleep, and a new week. See y'all on Monday.

Snapshots from Virginia: Lazing around the Yard

Nearly ripe blackberries.

Miss spider on her spindly web.

My favorite spot in the woods.

Bush Beautiful and the Monarch.