Love and Chopsticks

It's Been A While...

2009-10-18T22:21:00.003-04:00

Too long, in fact! I'm still alive. We're busier than ever -- we're packing again! Unfortunately, it's not for another whirlwind backpacking tour of the globe. This time, we're moving with the intention of staying still for a long time, because we recently purchased a house and are getting ready to move in very, very soon. The summer was far too short and far too cold for my liking, and work has been kicking our butts like crazy! So much for our newly-found Zen existences.

I have picked up a new hobby, though -- rock climbing! So far I've only tried indoor climbing, but I am thoroughly addicted to the adrenaline rush and sense of achievement that comes with every climb. I may also be addicted to the herds of fit and shirtless men that swarm the gym every evening I've been there. Yay for trying new things.

In less exciting news, Love and Chopsticks has been bookified -- sort of. I never meant to make a profit from my little online project here -- I only wanted a hard copy to archive for our book shelf. Later, I found that friends and family were interested in purchasing copies for their own collections; I have to admit that I'm flattered and confused! Nevertheless, the link is here if you want to explore it.

I'll try to be more attentive to your needs in the future, friends. I've missed you.

There Must Be Copper in There Somewhere

2009-06-07T09:34:00.003-04:00

We celebrated seven years of marriage this week -- our copper and/or wool anniversary, depending on who you talk to. While, last year, for our six-year anniversary, we threw ourselves off a bridge in New Zealand, this year we celebrated by spending a whack of money and buying our Dream Car: the Subaru Outback Limited Wagon. *THUMP THUMP THUMP* goes the heart.

Almost as exciting as bungy jumping. And oh, the adventures we'll have! Summer is here and that means road trips..

Extra! Extra! Budget Spreadsheet is Up!

2009-05-12T22:30:00.003-04:00

I'm sorry ~~BG's sorry~~ that this has taken so long, but the wait's worth it. Here is the much-anticipated and very confusing budget spreadsheet.

Please let us know if you have any questions or need more information. I don't understand that thing at all, but I have a feeling it's pretty complete/absolutely over-the-top with detail. Enjoy!

Kindred Spirits

2009-05-09T23:19:00.003-04:00

It's no secret that we essentially ate our way around the world. Though we experienced so many things, we remember distinctly the food -- naan breads bought on the streets of Delhi, blisteringly hot and tasting of charcoal; the comforting blandness of all-you-can-eat dal bhat in the mountains of Nepal; Tibetan momos (yak meat dumplings); sticky-sweet coconut sticky rice with cold sliced mango in Thailand. A few days after we got home, I was browsing through one of my favourite stores when I happened upon a recipe book about baking -- an obsession of mine, some might say.

This book caught my eye for a few reasons. As I said, it was about baking. It was full of recipes from all corners of the world -- middle Eastern breads, Montreal bagels, European pastries. It was full of gorgeous photos taken in these places, with little written vignettes that captured the spirit of the moments on the page. It was written by Canadians. I saw a recipe for good old-fashioned Canadian butter tarts and nearly swooned. I slammed the book shut and marched directly to the cash when I saw a recipe for Portuguese egg custard tarts, perhaps BG's most favourite thing in the world.

The book was Home Baking, written by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. They live in Toronto; they speak of a coffee shop in Kensington Market that they frequent; I think I know it. They travel the world and they collect stories and take photos, and they learn about a country and its culture by understanding the food that its people eat. They understand why food is so very important to us; they understand that it's so much more than nourishment. It's joy. It's a celebration. It's delicious.

Jeffrey and Naomi have written several delicious-looking recipe books, and I'm determined to own every single one. It seems that we came home and discovered a set of kindred spirits. I would love nothing more than to meet this amazing couple in that little coffee shop in Kensington and talk about -- well, food.

Right now, those Portuguese egg tarts are cooling on the kitchen counter, and I'm thinking I have to find a good place to hide them, if I want them to last until tomorrow.

Where To Next?

2009-05-02T10:52:00.002-04:00

The wheels are turning. We are in absolutely no position to be even thinking about our next trip or even a vacation longer than a three-day long weekend in Algonquin Park... but it doesn't mean we can't dream. Contrary to popular belief, we didn't go out in the world last year to "get it out of our systems". It didn't do that. It only reaffirmed our feeling that there's so much out there to see -- and we want to see it all.

On the table for future travels (local and not-so-local...)

1. Egypt -- we didn't get here this time around, though we had intended to. We can't say we've seen the world until we've seen the Pyramids.

2. Turkey -- also cut from our itinerary at the last minute to make more space for lounging on the beach in Mauritius.

3. Patagonia, Argentina -- we've got a mountain fetish, and hiking in Patagonia will only feed it.

4. Churchill, Manitoba -- a little closer to home, though just as exciting, the polar bears of Canada hang out in Churchill every fall.

5. Easter Island, Chile -- You know why.

6. Greece -- The culture, the history, the food, the scenery.

7. Brazil -- reportedly the world's most Beautiful People live here. We want to feel inferior for a little while, so...

8. West Coast Trail, Vancouver Island -- I'm kind of chicken, but I'd LOVE to do this difficult hike one day.

9. Russia -- BG went here once upon a time, and we'd like to see how it's changed since then. Actually, we'd like to start here and do the Trans-Siberian Express and end up in China.

10. Can I say we want to do our trip all over again?

Ethical Travel

2009-04-20T22:27:00.000-04:00

Travel, like everyday life, is full of decisions that must be made: where to eat, where to sleep, which bus to take. Along with these relatively easy decisions come the ones that can affect other people, whether locals or fellow travelers. For better or for worse, making the right choices can make a world of difference and can also make a difference in this world.

For starters, the easiest ethical travel choice to make is the one to avoid the sex trade. Prostitution may be the world's oldest profession, but it's also one of the most prevalent. I don't think I need to go into much detail about why it's horrible or why you should just not use, promote, or purchase the services of a prostitute anywhere -- whether at home or away, or in a back alley somewhere or in a glitzy casino. Don't be that creepy guy. As an obvious addendum, especially do not, not, NOT hire the services of a minor, as this act would move you well past the category of creepy guy and into the category of putrid and vehemently repulsive.

Child prostitution is not the only form of abuse that exists, unfortunately. Children all over the world are exploited in many ways. The Oscar-winning movie Slumdog Millionaire illustrates this point vividly in one scene where an orphaned child, a beggar by trade, has his eyes put out with hot acid -- because blind beggars make more money. His "pimp", his owner, chooses to have this done. As much as we'd all like to believe that this scene is an exaggeration, I have to tell you that it is, unfortunately, not. Child beggars are especially appealing to tourists because they're adorable. Their innocence touches that soft spot within us all, and you may find yourself giving over handfuls of change to fill their bowls. After all, it's mere pennies to you, right? It might be, but the pennies collected by hundreds of children are funneled into the pockets of their owner, and the kids are left with nothing. They don't go to school, they don't get jobs, they don't get fed. After all, skinny kids make more money.

Travelers with big hearts often fill their backpacks and suitcases with sweets, toys, and pencils when they travel to less-developed countries, in the hopes of befriending a little person or offering a token in exchange for a photo opportunity. In every town you'll find a budding photographer, shiny new DSLR around the neck, searching for that perfect shot -- the one of the beautiful naive face with the soulful eyes that say so much. Once the photo has been taken, a pocketful of sweets is distributed to the subject and any others in the vicinity.

The problem with the candy bribes is twofold. First, giving sugary candies to children that have often never even seen a toothbrush (or dentist) will lead to cavities, pulled teeth, and years of pain. It hardly seems worth it. We thought about getting around this by giving out sugarless candies. A fellow traveler told us, proudly, that instead of giving just candy, he gave out vitamins that looked like Gummy Bears. Oh, he was so smart. We solved the first problem but not the second -- the one with far more serious consequences.

Children in popular travel destinations quickly learn that tourists = treats. After the first few generous backpackers come through with lollipops and peppermints, the next bus load will find themselves stalked like the Pied Piper, with dozens of children trailing behind. Their hands will be outstretched. In many places, even the youngest of children could say the words, "Chocolate" or "Sweets" in English when they didn't know how to say anything else. These well-meaning travelers have created a generation of beggars who depend on tourists for hand-outs. They learn that it's an acceptable and easy way to make a living. They begin to ask for not just candy, but also other food, for money, for clothes. They ask and ask and ask. I remember vividly once being asked for a drink by a young man while we changed a flat tire in Namibia. He seemed to have been walking awhile, so I gave a Coke. Immediately he put his hand out and asked for a chocolate bar, barely giving his drink a glance. It was frustrating and disappointing, and it left me feeling guilty for having given him anything at all, and even guiltier that I didn't want to give him anything else, all because he asked.

Travelers to developing countries will understand when others speak of being treated like a "walking ATM". They complain, bitterly, that they are being taken advantage of in markets and shops; that they are being asked for handouts; that they are seen as rich tourists with loads of extra money to give away. First, you are being taken advantage of, and the precise reason is that you are a rich tourist with loads of extra money to give away. The fact that you are on a vacation means that you have more disposable income than most people in the world. You have a job that pays you to take time off? You have enough savings to spend some of it on travel for fun? You can afford to fly in an airplane? Dollar signs everywhere, my friend. So bargain for that souvenir in the market, but be fair. Don't try to screw the guy, for god's sakes. It's a game, to be sure, but it's not a fight to the death. On the other hand, don't pay the first price you're quoted (except in Laos. They won't try to screw you in Laos... yet.) It IS a game, and paying the exorbitantly inflated price you're given makes it harder for the next group of travelers wandering through.

How, then, do you find that balance of saving your pocketbook and sharing what you've got? Spend within your means, but shop locally. Eat at the street-food cart and not at McDonald's. Buy your bottled water from the mom and pop shop, not the 7-11. Make friends with kids; share experiences with them, not sweets. Give when your heart tells you to, by all means. Just be aware of what you're doing; usually an act of kindness is simply that. Unfortunately, sometimes an innocent gesture can be twisted into something darker.

I've Got the Ho-Hum Doldrums

2009-04-05T20:06:00.003-04:00

It's a beautiful spring day in Toronto. It was bright and sunny and warm, all of those good things. We have survived our first Canadian winter in a couple of years -- it seemed ages long, and yet we only arrived when it was already half over. Long weekends are soon upon us, and we're starting to make plans for weekend getaways over the summer. This is a season of optimism and hope. We should be cheered by the longer days. We should be making the most of them, going out for walks after dinner when it's still bright outside. It's only a matter of days until we start seeing people on patios, and soon I'll be able to wear sandals (but not for long! Work mandates closed toes only.)

People keep asking me: "Does it feel like you never left?" What do I say? Yes, in some ways -- I have slid back into my old life, my old ways, very easily. Nepal and New Zealand are like a distant dream now, an experience I hardly remember. I remember that I felt something when the Himalayas opened up before me, sitting in the back of a tiny hatchback surrounded by goats. I remember that same feeling when we turned the corner and started to walk down the Hooker Track. In both cases it was more than an experience; I can't even say that I was struck by it. I was flat-out walloped by it. I was floored. It was like overload -- the sparkling sunlight, the waving grasses, the dewy mornings. The mountains stretched out so high and yet so wide that I could only take it all in one scene at a time. I wanted to stand still and stare forever, and yet I couldn't help moving forward because I just had to see what was next. And now? I power through my morning routine, sit on the subway. Coffee and breakfast at work. Break. Lunch. Work. Home. Power through dinner, power through my workout. Chores. Litterbox. Shower. Bed. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Life is no longer about experiencing; it's about survival. We're trying to relax more, to keep that chilled-out attitude that we got so GOOD at while we were gone. However, thinking about how we were while we were gone reminds us that we're not gone. We're here. We're home.

What I wouldn't give to be on an airplane right now.

You Should Know This

2009-04-05T09:22:00.003-04:00

Before you embark on a trip around the world -- or a trip anywhere outside of North America, actually -- you should really learn to drive with a manual transmission. Automatic cars can be hard to find in a lot of places; they'll also cost you more to rent. Let me tell you a story.

Before we left in 2007 BG had driven standard exactly twice. He assured me he knew what he was doing and could also show me. (I had shifted from first to second, once, in my ex-boyfriend's parents' pickup truck.) On our first day off from SANCCOB in Cape Town, we decided to rent a car and drive down to Cape Point. We chose a manual transmission to save money.

We were living in a guest house situated in the suburbs, so the neighbourhood was quiet and peaceful, a perfect place to brush up on driving skills. The first problem was that the car rental company, which normally delivered the cars, had us come to the office in downtown Cape Town instead. "Are you SURE you can do this?" I asked BG again. "Yes" was what I heard over and over.

Once the car was in our hands, BG got in the driver's seat. He adjusted the mirrors and seat meticulously. He shifted into first and we cruised slowly (downhill) down the street to a stop sign; we turned right onto Long Street (perhaps THE busiest street in downtown Cape Town) and came to a stop at a red light. At rush hour.

So apparently there was a 0.005% incline at this light, because at this point we found ourselves in a difficult situation. Every single time BG tried to get the car in motion again it stalled. Then it would roll backwards and he would slam his foot on the brake. The light changed three times. I sat completely paralyzed and unable to help, as he grew more and more flustered. People behind us were very angry. A kind taxi driver on a break approached us and offered to help. BG declined at first, but after three more stalled attempts sheepishly called him over. "I was wondering if you could help me... (playing it cool, not admitting he has no effing clue what he's doing)... I'm not used to this rental car and I can't seem to find first gear." Mr. Nice Taxi Driver Man tried to direct from his place on the street, but it didn't help. People were honking and yelling. Finally BG said, "You know what, maybe you can just drive us back to the rental place and we'll get an automatic." "No, no," the driver insisted, "I can show you how to drive this car. It will take 5 minutes. Very easy." So he got in the driver's seat and whipped around the corner to a quiet parking lot. "Here, get in and drive, I will show you how and then you will be fine." BG got into the driver's seat. I took a seat on the lawn with my book and waited.

It all happened so quickly. BG started the car and shifted into reverse. Then he let out the clutch and gunned the engine hard... and hit the tree that was right behind him. There was a loud crash followed by an awful silence. Then the instructor said, "Shit. These trees are not supposed to be here anyway, in these parking lots." BG said, "I think you'd better drive us back to the rental place." This time, he agreed.

In the end, we actually had to learn to drive standard because the truck we had hired to drive through Southern Africa was standard. We ended up taking lessons -- each of us spent two hours in the car with a cute medical student/driving instructor named Hannes, and he taught us how to do it all. It wasn't hard, actually, and grew to be an almost enjoyable experience. By the time we had to drive the truck, we were pros.

If you could learn how to do this before you leave, it would be good. However, I'm glad that we didn't, because it's given me my favourite story of all time -- the one where BG backs into a tree. Ah, sweet vengeance.

I Love This

2009-03-25T19:21:00.004-04:00

Someone just sent me a link to this website. Totally made my day.

I thought I'd post my favourite traveler's complaint, but they were all awesome. Actually, my favourite might actually be this one:

"My fiancé and I booked a twin-bedded room but we were placed in a double-bedded room. We now hold you responsible for the fact that I find myself pregnant. This would not have happened if you had put us in the room that we booked."

I love people.

A Snap of the Fingers

2009-03-15T16:32:00.004-04:00

We spoke to my sister-in-law today. She's in Africa, volunteering for a few more months. Her placement ends in May, and she hasn't found any new opportunities, and is toying with the idea of coming home -- the economy's not good, she's worried it'll take a while to find a job, blah blah blah.

We very, very strongly advised her to stay. Her ticket brings her home to Toronto at the end of September; why would she cut her trip short by six months? Sure, she's worried. Sure, she's probably homesick. She's tired and lonely and all of those things that make the thought of home, and stability, very appealing right about now. We remember those feelings with great clarity. Now that we have home and stability, the thought of being where she is right now is extremely tempting.

So many people have said to us, "I wish I could do what you have done!" Well, they all can. However, there are lots of reasons that they think they can't. They are the same reasons we waited so long to leave -- the jobs, the house, the family, the fear. I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say it was a monumental effort to get everything tucked neatly away before we took off to Kathmandu. I also want to point out that we couldn't have done it alone. We had ongoing help from many people in the form of emotional support, people to do the odd little jobs for us, people to take care of our stuff while we were gone. Doing it once was hard enough. Doing it again -- well, I might not need as much convincing, but I wouldn't look forward to it.

She's already done the hardest part. She left -- and now that she's gone, she should stay gone. This is truly the chance of a lifetime, and she should make the most of it, even though right now it's hard to see it for what it is. I hope she gets there soon.

Just Can't Get Enough

2009-03-05T22:43:00.004-05:00

Well, so much for going on hiatus. I can't help it; I've MISSED this!

We're still re-living the dream in a big way, and this week we got to do a presentation for our friends at the Adventure Travel Company here in Toronto. Jennifer, Dennis, and many others there have been really helpful in the past when we planned this trip -- and others. I distinctly remember the first time we spoke to Jennifer about Round-the-World tickets. We listed off the places we wanted to go, and she whipped out a map of the world and a red pen, and went completely nutso with arrows and route plans. She knew it all, instantly -- she gave us routes and then re-routed the routes; she hammered out an efficient and reasonable itinerary that fit within the ticket parameters before we'd even realized it. It was amazing.

Anyway, the presentation was a great success, from what I gather, and we had a fantastic time. We talked peoples' ears off, that's for sure, and we'd do it again in a second.

In the meantime, here's a link to our presentation, in case you missed it.

The blog is back, baby.

Adieu, Adieu, to You and You and You

2009-02-12T17:48:00.005-05:00

I've been logging into blogger almost every day for the past week. The "NEW POSTS" page pops up, and I sit there and stare.

It's happened. I have nothing else to tell you.

I could keep reminiscing about our trip, telling funny-at-the-time-you-had-to-be-there anecdotes from "when we were in Tibet/Australia/Namibia/Wherever". I thought about continuing with fresher-than-fresh live updates of our new lives and where they were going. I really, really tried.

Then I remembered why I never really got into the blogging thing before we left -- our lives are really just not that exciting. Life is good, but it's not necessarily blog-worthy. What can I tell you? I'm starting work soon, which is great. BG is working, and we've gotten into squash (the game, not the vegetable, though I do enjoy it roasted in olive oil or as soup.) We buy international wines at the liquor store downtown and not at the vineyards like we did in 2008. We keep buying honey pomelos and not eating them because we don't have a two-hour bus ride to kill. We go to dinner parties with friends where they play Norah Jones as background music and we discuss the pros and cons of laminate vs. hardwood vs. engineered flooring and whether or not a professional designer is really worth the money. Do you really want to hear about that?

I also didn't want to leave this part of our story unfinished, with a random dangling post about grocery shopping and senior's day. It would have disturbed my psyche to leave it like that. It needs an ending. This is it.

There is one final thing to say. I need to thank everyone who read this blog and lived vicariously through us. Reading your comments and knowing that we were still present in your lives, somehow, meant so much to us. Meeting new people and finding that we could actually be of some use to someone was really special. This blog was meant to be a way to let you all know that we were alive and well, but it ended up being so much more than that to us. It was a way for me to express how I really felt when confronted with the unknown, with the frightening, and with the staggeringly beautiful. I wouldn't have bothered recording like this if all of you hadn't been here to read it, and so I thank you all for reading, because now I also have a way to remember the moments which were so inconsequential at the time, but have become especially meaningful in hindsight.

This isn't really the end. You'll be hearing about our future adventures, and heck, when anything even remotely exciting happens, you'll hear it here. I promise.

In the meantime, thanks again.

Musing

2009-01-29T14:32:00.002-05:00

Every so often the thought, "what was I doing this time a year ago?" pops into my head. It's usually pretty amusing to compare it to what I'm doing right now.

Take today, for instance. A year ago today, give or take, I was in Laos. Maybe we were kayaking on the Mekong River; maybe we were riding through the winding countryside on a rickety bus while our fellow passengers vomited into plastic bags all around us. We were most likely dodging livestock. There was probably a bunch of turnips under my seat.

Today I went grocery shopping and dodged shopping carts, because it's the last Thursday of the month... and that means it's SENIOR'S DAY! Everywhere! The grocery store, the drug store, the bulk food store -- sweet, soft-spoken, deaf little people all over the place, bumping into me and counting their pennies out at the cash.

At least there were still turnips!

That Wasn't So Bad

2009-01-15T23:07:00.005-05:00

During our African adventure, we often joked that there must be a reality TV crew lurking somewhere in the distance, because the number of times that things went wrong just seemed statistically impossible when based on random chance. This week it became apparent that the TV crew is still with us, and were documenting our return to Real Life with a particular kind of evil zeal.

The original plan was that I would take the few things stored at my mother's and drive them to Toronto on Monday night. We would spend the night at my cousin's, which I was happy to do because it meant I could ~~play Wii~~ spend time with him. Then the movers would meet us at our storage facility on Tuesday morning, and we'd be moved in by lunch. Easy peasy.

What actually happened is that the quantity of material possessions at Mom's trebled in our absence, somehow, and ended up being enough to fill at least four large SUV's. After a brief conference call (BG was in Toronto, playing Wii already) we decided he would rent a cargo van in Toronto on Monday and come to pick up our stuff. We initially decided to spend one last night in cushy, luxurious, motherly comfort... but then a pending snowstorm toppled our plans. We drove to Toronto late that night, knowing that we had the keys to our new apartment and could sleep there, because the van would be safer parked there than downtown.

Unfortunately, our air mattress was not at Mom's as it should have been, even though every other single thing in the universe appeared to be there. We had to stop and buy a new one en route... and then we had to stop again and exchange it for a better one after a couple of hours of reflection (BG!). Once at our new place, we discovered that the walls were freshly painted (Yay!) but reeked (Boo!) and that the carpets had been shampooed (Yay!) but were still soaking wet (Boo!). We opened all the windows and cranked up the heat -- sorry, Environment. Then we rolled up our sleeves and took off our socks and got to work cleaning, because there's nothing worse than living in someone else's dirt.

On Tuesday morning BG drove to the storage facility to meet our movers and I set to scrubbing the bathrooms (that's right, we have TWO.) He returned unaccountably early, and I was initially thrilled to think that the move might be finished early. Actually, it was to be finished very, very late, as something got mixed up in the booking and the movers thought we were moving tomorrow, not two days ago. And that cargo van sitting in the parking lot, full of our stuff which the movers were supposed to help us with? Guess who had to empty that thing. Yep... Team Chopsticks.

In the end, the moving team, a group of very nice and very apologetic gentlemen, came the next day (early, in fact!) and had us in our new place in just a few hours. They even offered to cover half of the extra two weeks' rent that the storage place charged us for the extra DAY we were there.

Then the elevator decided to work only intermittently. Then we realized that our unit is actually at the very furthest end from the elevator. Then we realized that in our haste to move out in 2007, we'd helpfully labelled our boxes "MISCELLANEOUS", "EXTRA BITS", "UTENSILS", and "SAW".

I'd say we're 95% done now. It's okay that I haven't breathed outdoor air for 48 hours; I hear it's really cold outside anyway. It's okay that I can't find anything yet because I can't remember where I just put it. It's okay that the second bedroom is completely full of boxes and crates because this is only a temporary place and there's no point in unpacking the good china. At least I found the coffee maker.

Today we put the clothes away. It took the whole morning, and the whole process made me feel sick to my stomach -- the enormity of the task, the enormity of our wardrobes. Life was so much simpler when all we had to worry about was our two backpacks and our passports. Still, life goes on, and I find myself sleeping in my own bed, sitting at my own desk, watching my own TV, cooking with my own carefully selected and terribly abundant kitchen gear.

Life is still good.

What to Say?

2009-01-08T22:14:00.002-05:00

I find myself strangely silent these days, without trials or tribulations worthy of writing about. The holidays were wonderful, and we've been catching up with friends and family. We've signed a lease for an apartment and are looking for a car, and our jobs are slowly coming together.

We're slowly realizing that our Trip of a Lifetime (TM) is really and truly over, and yet I hesitate to put Love and Chopsticks to bed. I haven't said everything I wanted to say. There are still stories to tell. Besides, if Love and Chopsticks comes to an end, it means that our journey is really over, and I guess I'm not ready for that.

Stay tuned, I guess.

Indulge Me a Moment

2008-12-31T21:32:00.004-05:00

I'm going to step back in time to New Year's Eve 2007/2008. We were in Lijiang, south western China. Our wall-mounted "heater" blew tepid air and our toes were always cold. When we showered a ~~pool~~ puddle of water formed on the bathroom floor, because there was no tub.

That night it was so cold in Lijiang that it snowed, a rare event in that area. To celebrate the New Year, we splurged on dinner at "Le Cafe Paris", where BG had salmon and mashed potatoes, and I had the very French specialty of Mongolian tofu hotpot with noodles -- accompanied by a gallon-sized bucket of rice. "This country was built on rice," the waiter told me. "Rice is cheap in this country." Later, carbohydrate-induced torpor fully upon us, we walked the pretty, picturesque streets of Lijiang and contemplated the purchase of yak jerky.

Very late in the evening, well past 9:30, we decided that we were absolutely, thoroughly chilled, and returned to our guest house. We climbed into bed and watched a movie. I'm ashamed to say that we rang in the new year with the newest Transformers movie, Megan Fox and all. Guess whose pick that was?

This time we're ringing in the New Year with family and crab legs. I can't believe how much has happened since December 31, 2007.

Happy New Year!

You Can Count On Me

2008-12-27T12:36:00.014-05:00

On our way home from Zurich, BG and I worked on our lists of "Top 10" things. We'll be putting it up in a number of separate posts for your reading pleasure -- also so that when we finally meet up with our friends, we can talk about more interesting things than, "What was your favourite country?" We want to hear about what's going on in your lives too!

Top Natural Wonders or Vistas

Milford Sound, New Zealand

Glacier Express Train from St. Moritz to Zermatt, Switzerland -- all seven hours.

Bai Tu Long Bay, Vietnam

Victoria Peak, Hong Kong

The sand dunes at Sossusvlei, Namibia

Fish River Canyon, Namibia

Cape Point, South Africa

Tiger Leaping Gorge, China

Poon Hill, Nepal

Yangshuo, China

Honourable mentions go to "Edoras", in New Zealand, and, of course, Mount Everest.

Most Memorable Historical or Cultural Visits

The temples of Angkor, Cambodia
The killing fields of Cambodia
The now-retired prison at Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated, Cape Town, South Africa
The Taj Mahal, Agra, India
The Sydney Opera House, Sydney, Australia
The Potala Palace, Lhasa, Tibet
The military fort near Jaipur, India
The giant Shiva statue near Grand Bassin, Mauritius
The Sydney Harbour Bridge, Sydney, Australia
The streets of old Hanoi, Vietnam

Most Memorable Meals

Hot Pot dinner (including chicken testicles), Hong Kong
Fresh seafood feast with friends, Hong Kong
Bamboo chicken (including chicken feet), China
The Ganesh Restaurant, Jaipur, India
Breakfast in western New Zealand, where I was offered a chunk of freshly slaughtered wild boar
Gorgeous Indian meal (eaten exclusively with hands) in New Delhi, India
The Safari Platter (including five different types of wild game!), Cape Town, South Africa
BG's birthday dinner in Noosa, Australia
A traditional Christmas dinner with all the trimmings (for $9.00!) in Yangshuo, China
A huge seafood feed in the Sydney Fish Market, Sydney, Australia

Book Recommendations (based on the countries we visited)

Shantaram, Gregory David Roberts: called "the best bad book" in one review, this book is brutally written and terribly long, but paints a perfectly vivid portrait of India.
First They Killed My Father, Loung Ung: describes the destruction of her family and life during the regime of Pol Pot in Cambodia.
Catfish and Mandala, Andrew X. Pham: a Vietnamese-American returns to his birth country.
Himalaya, Michael Palin: written during the filming of the BBC documentary, describes perfectly the culture and landscape of the Himalayas.
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, JRR Tolkien: the movies were set in New Zealand, so of course you have to re-read the books.
The Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela: the great Nelson Mandela describes his incredible life (South Africa).
The Killing Fields, Christopher Hudson: another book about the Khmer Rouge (Cambodia).
Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer: the author describes his summit of Mt. Everest and the disaster that followed.
Are You Experienced?, William Sutcliffe: A cynical view of the world of [sic] "real backpackers" in India.
The Life and Times of Michael K., J. M. Coetzee: Experience the life of a black, mentally disabled man in apartheid-era South Africa

Finally, our new top favourite foods

Note that Val and BG have two completely different lists...

Lychees, mango, jackfruit (Val). Mango with sticky rice (BG).
Espresso -- (V). Tim Tams (BG).
Black licorice (V). White chocolate Magnum ice cream bars (BG).
Spicy papaya salad (V). Puits d'amour (French pastries) (BG).
Sparkling water (V). Portuguese Custard Tarts (BG).
Rooibos tea (V). Lime & black pepper chips (BG).
Marmite/vegemite (V). Coconut and corn cakes (Thai street food) (BG).
Octopus vindaye (V). Luxemburgeli (meringue cookies)(BG).
Feijoas (V). Cauliflower with butter and breading (BG).
Macadamia nuts (V). Sand-roasted peanuts from India (BG).

Update

2008-12-25T00:22:00.002-05:00

Round-the-world ticket information has finally been written and posted -- enjoy and thanks for your patience!

Sweetness Follows

2008-12-25T00:05:00.003-05:00

I'm finally wearing my own pyjamas. I finally dry myself after my shower with real towels, no more of the handkerchief-sized travel towels that don't actually dry anything. I wear jeans and sweaters, shoes with heels. I use a hair dryer. I have a manicure. One day I curled my hair; the next day I straightened it.

Just because I can.

I hug my mom and sisters and mother-in-law; I squeeze them until they squeal. I call my friends, drive a car, eat sushi. When I walk down the street I listen to the people talk and understand everything that's being said. I make cappuccino twice a day.

Just because I can.

My wardrobe seems endless, even though I can't find my winter boots or coat. Right now I'm pretty sure I'll never need to go shopping ever again... at least until Boxing Day sales kick in. The skies are grey and it's snowing like mad, but it's Christmas and I've never been happier to be suffering jet lag and an impending cold, because I'm finally at home and I'm not suffering alone.

Happy Holidays, all.

Das Ist Herr Kartoffel-Tete

2008-12-18T13:36:00.001-05:00

In most of the 16 countries we've traveled this year, we've been completely out of our element when it comes to understanding and being understood. I am constantly amazed at the diversity of language in this world; at the same time, I am even more amazed at how many people actually make the effort to speak and understand a little bit of English.

We always made an effort to learn to say "Hello" and "Thank you" in the local dialect, be it Khmer, Hindi, or Chinese. That's just basic etiquette -- in someone else's country, why should you just assume they speak English? Worse, why be annoyed if they can't speak English? We met plenty of other travelers with this mindset: "Cripes, they can't even speak ENGLISH. What is this place?" How about, it's Thailand? I heard very few travelers nattering away in the local language along the way. Most of them, actually -- and this probably includes us -- conversed in a broken, pidgin English that was usually very slow and, inexplicably, very LOUD. "Where EAT? BAR? BEER? Me. very. Hungry!" (accompanied by a belly pat.) I even heard this in countries where English was well-understood and spoken, like Namibia and Botswana, and was simultaneously embarrassed and insulted on both parts.

So "Hello" became "Namaste" in Nepal and India, "Xie-Xie" in China. We said "Sabai-dee" in Laos, and "Sawasdee-Kah" (me) and "Sawasdee-Kap" (BG) in Thailand. We didn't shake hands in most of these places, but nodded our heads in greeting, and sometimes pressed our palms together, prayer style, in greeting. In South Africa we never could get the hang of any of the 11 official languages, nor could we begin to properly mimic the clicks and tongue snaps so often involved. Most of the time, we could get away with a simple "Hello", like we did in Australia and New Zealand, thank goodness... not that it was necessarily any easier to understand the Aussie or Kiwi accents -- which, they WILL argue, are completely different from each other. You know, like Canadians and Americans.

We got off easy in Mauritius and Switzerland. BG and I are in a funny situation in both of these places, because I understand 99.9% of everything said in Creole (the Mauritian dialect) and BG's German is pretty good. In Mauritius I could interpret most conversations and relay them as necessary, but actually speaking Creole was a problem. I understand Creole -- I do not speak it unless absolutely necessary. All of my family members have excellent English, so this wasn't usually a problem. Still, one night Catherine and I had a broken dish crisis in the kitchen, and no way of cleaning it up. So I bravely headed over to the caretaker's house to ask for help. Lucky me, he was out for the evening. Lucky me, I got to speak to his eight-year-old son. Lucky me, he spoke hardly any English. Imagine asking for something to clean the floor when you can't remember the words for "Dish", "Floor", "Bucket", "Broom", or "Broken", and you can imagine the situation -- a wide-eyed blank stare from him, some crazy charades from me. After I'd retreated in humiliation, his mother came home and asked what I'd wanted. All I could do was hold up the pieces of broken porcelain in chagrin. She got the point, and I got my broom and bucket and cleaned the broken dish from the floor. Other times, like when we were lost and I had to ask for directions, were more successful. On a couple of occasions I was surprised to hear people speaking Creole and find I had no idea what they were saying. A phone call to my mother cleared that up, hilariously; she maintains that she speaks a more "refined" Creole, and that these other Mauritians were speaking a rougher dialect. Refined Creole is a complete oxymoron -- it's a mostly language with no rules or grammar, and uses few adjectives or adverbs. So, apparently, my mother's "refined Creole" is comparable to the Queen's English, and these other guys were speaking... Eubonics?

I have been completely and utterly impressed by BG's talent with German. Ever since the day he failed when attempting to read a kindergarten-level book in German, I've been convinced he couldn't speak a word of it. We roomed with eight German girls in Cape Town (all young and blonde, and you wonder why BG loved it there so much) and they spent plenty of time trying to teach BG the art of the umlaut (that two-dot thing on top of the U in Yogen Fruz.) As a result they also spent a great deal of time lauging at his attempts. I also had never heard him say more than, "Ja, das ist gute!", and the first day in Switzerland he couldn't remember the German word for Shoe (it's Shuh, pronounced Shoo.) So you can see how I was stunned when, after a few days in Switzerland, BG was nattering off to his family in Deutsch. Umlauts or no umlauts, he's pretty good! All the years he went to German schol on Saturday mornings instead of hockey games have finally paid off. Truth be told, he can only speak and understand High German, and most people here speak mostly Swiss German, a dialect very parallel to my mother's Creole -- unwritten, no rules, no grammar. But people understand him when he speaks German, and they reply in High German, so all is good.

Even my German is improving. Check out my new vocabulary, and note any patterns:

Schmutzig = Dirty
Wasser = Water
Shokolade = Chocolate
Kartoffel = Potato
Tete = Head
Kase = Cheese
Fruhstuck = Breakfast
Schwartz = Black
Apfel = Apple
Kuchen = Cake
Gemuse = Vegetables
Brot = Bread
Apfelsaft = Apple juice
Milch = Milk
Kaffee = Coffee
Himbeer = Raspberry
Zucker = Sugar
Tee = Tea
Schmuck = Jewelry
Nusstorte = Nut Cake
Hund = Dog
Katze = Cat
Bahn = Train
Bahnhof = Train station
Bahnhofstrasse = Train Station Street

It's pretty clear now that if I'm ever stranded in Deepest, Darkest Switzerland, I'll be able to eat. It's all good!

NUMB3RS

2008-12-17T10:56:00.001-05:00

Now that the trip of a lifetime is coming to a close, we can allow the expected analysis to begin. We will start with the numbers; luckily, Excel is not necessary.

Number of flights taken: 19
Number of countries visited: 16
Number of kilometres: according to our RTW ticket, 39,000 or so.
Number of days away from home: 448
Number of times forced to watch Horton Hears a Who: 3
Number of times Step Up: The Streets watched voluntarily: 3 (I like dance movies.)
Number of pairs of shoes worn: 4
Number of boats ridden: 8 (me) + 2 (BG)
Number of times seasick: 1 (me) + 2 (BG)
Number of flat tires changed in a four-week trip through southern Africa: 7
Number of people being crammed into a 12-seater bus: 18
Number of months without snow: 20
Number of packages shipped home: 10
Number of laptop repair visits: 4
Number of times BG stayed up all night rebuilding laptop: 4
Number of teabags being brought home from Mauritius: 350
Number of kilograms of chocolate being brought home from Switzerland: 3.2
Number of photos taken on this trip: 15,000 or so.
Number of times violently ill from stomach bugs: 0 (Yay!)
Number of days a shower was skipped: 4 (not bad...)

This is a Really Bad Metaphor

2008-12-16T07:55:00.002-05:00

I am a mess of emotions right now -- a fondue pot of gooey, cheesy joy bubbling excitedly, steeped in booze. Hm, that doesn't sound as good as I thought it would.

It just hit me that we are going home in less than a week. My head has known this for a long time, but my heart just understood it today, a few seconds ago, while I was shelling pistachios. I'm excited to go home -- to hug my mom and sisters, to see my friends, to go back to the lives we put on hold and figure out a way to make it work a little better for us. We're entering an experimental phase, one where we'll finally get to see if we did learn anything, if anything has changed. Our reactions to the environment we are in will be the gauge over the next while, especially since the first few months are bound to be a little hectic.

After much reflection, discussion, and analysis (Excel may or may not have been used) we have decided to return to Toronto. It's true that other cities were definitely on the list of nominees, but in the end, Toronto is home. We're working on the jobs, and we're beginning to look at cars and places to live. In a lot of ways, it looks like we're returning to our lives very much The Way They Were; in our opinion, the outer shell of life may look identical, but the inner workings will change fundamentally. We hope to be able to dig in our heels and not get caught up in the tornado that is city life so that we can spend less time fretting about the things that don't matter and spend more time doing the things that do. We hope to live less selfishly, to take less and to use less. We hope to give more instead, as we've learned how that endless cliche about giving and receiving is actually really true.

Expect to see us outdoors more and at the office less. Expect to see us smiling more, arguing less. Quality over quantity, meaningfulness over convenience. Culture and learning over television, family and friends over mindless surfing. We'll take courses; we'll volunteer. We'll join clubs, read books, babysit; BG may possibly explore the world of yoga. We'll do more things together too -- after all, 15 months of nearly continuous companionship means we'll likely feel kind of lost without each other, at least for a little while.

In the meantime, we have five days left in Switzerland, and there's chocolate to be eaten. See you soon.

Fish Out of Water

2008-12-12T15:43:00.004-05:00

We're enjoying our last week of the nomadic lifestyle we've gotten accustomed to. Actually, the last six weeks haven't been particularly nomadic at all, since we parked our butts on the beach in Mauritius for one month and then parked them firmly in the family guest room in Switzerland last week. Nevertheless, this week we've packed up our bags again and are on the move! Today we arrived in the lovely Alpine village of Klosters for three days of snow and sun. We are even thinking of participating in some sort of activity, perhaps skiing or snowshoeing. Alternatively, we might just laze around in the adorable cafe down the street and try to catch a glimpse of Prince Charles (or Princes William or Harry!), as the Royal Family frequents Klosters as a favoured holiday destination.

Switzerland truly is postcard-perfect, and this area is even more so. Stepping out into the village is like stepping into a photograph, where the snowy peaks tower overhead and the tall stands of pine trees are dusted with a whisper of icing sugar, much like the shortbread cookies BG enjoys so much. Toddlers on matchstick-sized skis glide down the beginner slopes in the village while their adult counterparts enjoy gourmet lunches in five-star restaurants. The ski chalets, shops, and restaurants that dot the mountain slopes come out of the story books of my childhood, with steeply sloping roofs, wooden beams, and stone fireplaces.

The innate perfection of Switzerland is impressive and, dare I say, slightly intimidating. In the main train station in Zurich, all of the clocks within visual range are perfectly synchronized, right down to the second hand. BG's aunts are always impeccably dressed, perfectly groomed. The children are as sweet as sugar, and everyone is delightful to be around. At a family dinner recently, one where I had the opportunity to actually wear a dress, heels, and makeup, I was complimented thus: "Valerie looks so pretty! I didn't recognize her." Very nice, definitely appreciated, and also very telling.

Fifteen months of backpacking around the world has turned me into some sort of bedraggled monster. I need a makeover!

It Figures

2008-12-08T02:26:00.005-05:00

If you've been following our adventures you know that we've been more or less all around the world going through countries like India, Nepal, and Botswana, where things are, shall we say, slightly less organized than they might be at home.

Now we're in beautiful Switzerland, where the mountains tower above villages and towns with cobblestone streets. The wooden shutters on the houses have little hearts cut out of them, and the church bells ring on Sunday mornings. If fairy tales were ever to come true, they would all happen here. The trains run, appropriately, like Swiss watches, and I suspect that even the horse-and-buggies that clip-clop through the early morning mist are always on time.

Wouldn't you know it: our luggage is lost, a first on this trip. Swissport and their baggage tracing office "sincerely regrets the inconvenience caused by this baggage irregularity" and is "doing [their] best to recover [our] baggage, and will deliver it upon arrival."

One bag showed up yesterday; unfortunately, it's the one full of teabags, home made chili sauce hotter than anything ever previously made, safari animal pasta (do not even ASK), and other insanity. The other two bags, the ones with our actual clothes in them, are still AWOL. One is apparently going to arrive sometime today. The other one is... somewhere.

I hope it's my backpack that's on its way. I have a good feeling about this! Anyway, in the meantime, we've gone shopping courtesy of Swissport and our travel insurance. Yay for insurance, and yay for boots!

This is a good time for me to point out two important things; first, that we left Canada with only two backpacks, and have traveled for the whole 14 months with only these two backpacks. Only in Mauritius did we decide to increase our volume and carry another bag. After all, it's allowed, and there was so much good stuff to take home (see above) that it just made sense. The second point (which BG specifically requested -- nay, demanded -- mentioned) is that the bags were not lost in Switzerland. They were lost in Africa (we think), and the repercussions are only being felt in Switzerland now.

Keep your fingers crossed for us; otherwise, we might be having to buy some of that really nice and very practical Swiss underwear I was talking about before.

This is the Kind of Thing I Hate

2008-12-05T02:00:00.003-05:00

It's Friday morning. We're at an internet cafe in Port Louis, and my space bar doesn't work. The techno music is really loud. Also, this morning we drove Catherine to the airport and said good-bye; she's spending the next six months volunteering in northern Limpopo province, South Africa -- near the border of Zimbabwe. She's a spunky one!

Jeez, I thought saying good-bye once was hard enough. Saying it again was harder. We're somehow already at the end of our time in Mauritius -- I remember when we extended our time here and it seemed like it would never end. Suddenly, the end is upon us, and we've spent the last two days saying goodbye to people. Later today we'll board our flight and head for Switzerland, where we'll be greeted by mountains, snow, chocolate, cheese, and really nice practical underwear which lasts forever -- at least, that's what my husband would have me believe.

If only saying hello wasn't always eventually followed by saying good-bye, traveling would be perfect.