Asia at last

You know how you always seem to forget something when you go away? Well, I seem to have forgotten my sunglasses. But given the rain that's coming down now in Bangkok, not to mention the upcoming monsoons, I'm guessing it will turn out to not be a problem. If I had forgotten my rain gear, that would have been a bigger issue.

After getting up early and getting to the airport a bit before 9, we have around 3 hours to kill before our flight. Daughter #1 buys out all the trashy magazines to read on the plane. We work on a crossword puzzle, which makes her feel smart, until I point out that the one we are working on is labelled as "easy".

We eventually get through the TSA nazis (can anyone explain to me why I can't use a gallon bag if the items would actually fit in a quart bag?), and continue waiting for the boarding time. When our turn comes to board, we have scored bulkhead seats - hurray! Then a mother joins us with her 2 and 5 year old girls - boo! And let me say that the 2 year old does not seem happy. We begin to anticipate the joys of a 17 hour flight next to a cranky toddler, when the flight attentdant spots three free seats for them to move to, instead of trying to cramp into 2 seats next to us - hurray again!

The next 17 hours all sort of run together. They fed us several times (chicken and pumpkin in red curry sauce; pad thai; rice noodles with chicken. It's all pretty good. Of course, it's all a bit spicy, so daughter #1 is not a big fan. I watched a couple of movies (Hog Wild, Astranaut Farmer), some TV (Dr. Who and a british "Candid Camera" type of show). I read. I listen on and off to a book on my MP3. I nap. Only a couple more hours to go. Let me just say that 17 hours is a long time to be flying.

Eventually we land in Bangkok. We move quickly though immigration - faster than I have ever moved through the line coming back into the US from anywhere. We take a cab to the hotel (and get royally ripped off by the cab, who charges us double the going rate - clearly having spotted the farang a mile away. Ke garne.

The hotel is much nicer than the Day's Inn in the US. Candace declares it to be the nicest hotel she's ever stayed at (I on the other hand have stayed on expense account hotels for conferences. One of the perks of being a middle aged professional.) We wash up and grab some sandwhiches and pastry along with some soda before heading back to the room to turn in at around 8 pm (9 am Eastern time back home). Tomorrow is still up in the air for activities. Maybe shopping (daughter's choice), maybe the local aquarium (mine), maybe a palace tour. Hopefully we come to some agreement in the morning.

Oh, and just to make things interesting, the web page is all written in Thai script (ป้ายกำกับสำหรับบทความนี้:เช่น สกูตเตอร์, วันหยุด, ฤดูใบไม้ร่วง ), which neither of us can read. I just click on buttons more or less randomly, hoping to successfully post my musings. Wish me luck!

A less than auspicious start...

Ke garne. This is a Nepali phrase meaning "What to do?". It is basically used to cope with all of life's little disappointments. And although our flight to Bangkok (part one of our three part tour of third world countries) is not until tomorrow, we decided to stay the night before at a hotel near the airport (as opposed to leaving at 5 AM).

The fun actually started earlier in the day. Although Daughter #1 has been very excited about the trip for approximately 2 years now, she had held off packing her clothes until today, because "I need to wear them". Now keep in mind that her bedroom is overflowing with clothes. She could probably clothe the entire Nepalese nation. So naturally she could not set any of them aside for the last week to be packed. Ke garne.


After some minor conflicts abour how best to pack the assorted backpacks and duffles, we have everything ready to go when the limo driver arrives. OK, by "limo" I mean "car", and by "driver" I mean "old dude who may well have snuck out of the nursing home". I am afraid when he starts to carry bags to the car that he will have a heart attack, which would be pretty inconvenient for me. But he has a GPS on the dash, that is giving him directions, so it should be OK. Sure he thinks it should be about a 2 hour drive (Sure when I drive it, it's closer to 3 hours, but everyone knows I drive very conservatively, at least 5 mph below the limit. Safety first!). And I am a little puzzled when we go past the airport, and drive another 20 minutes into Manhattan itself. And I'm pretty sure that when when the GPS is saying that the hotel is on the right (with no sign of a hotel) that we are nowhere near where we should be. So we spend an extra hour driving to get to the hotel. Ke garne.

We head to the airport hoping to see the hotel on the way. As we pass several other hotels, the driver stops so he can call our hotel. Which turns out to be about a minute and a half down the road. We pull into the parking lot. Well, not the one for our hotel. This hotel has a big sign, an airy lobby, with cookies at the counter. Our hotel is down an alley. With no sign. And no cookies. Ke garne.

Oh, and just for fun, the last day we spent at home was marked by intermittent thunderstorms, which woke me up during the night. I guess Mother Nature is getting us ready for monsoon season , since the forecasts for Bangkok, Kathmandu, and Lhasa are all calling for rain. Ke garne.

Well, at least daughter #1 seems to be having a good time as we start our adventures. Don't forget to check out her blog.

My world, and welcome to it.

A father's love apparently knows no bounds. When daughter #1 started riding horses, I bought her a pony, which we later upgraded to a horse. A small fortune in equine supplies ensued, supporting several tack shops in the central Pennsylvania area. When she graduated high school a few years ago, I drove her, daughter #2, and a van full of adolescents to the giant hippie music-fest known as Bonnaroo, where I spent several mud and rain filled days trying to avoid heatstroke and preventing them from exploring the more "chemically-enhanced" side of the festival (overheard from a couple of the less upstanding members of the crowd upon learning they were inspecting bags- "Dude, where should I put the 'shrooms? I'm not wearing any underwear?").

So naturally, when my intrepid daughter decided to study abroad in Nepal (per capita annual income: $300) instead of someplace with, I don't know, running water, flush toilets, and low incidence of malaria, I agreed to go over early with her to explore the countryside for a few weeks before her classes start. Fortunately (?), I have over a month of vacation waiting to be used. And nothing says "vacation" like getting vaccinated for Japanese encephalitis, hepatitis A and B, and a variety of other tropical diseases, before going to a third world country in the midst of monsoon season (chance of rain: 80%). Well at least the Maoist revolt that's been underway for the last decade (and which essentially shut the country down last year, requiring emergency evacuations of the students at that time) has been under a truce agreement for the past 10 months.

Despite my daughter's protests that she did not want to have a guide because she wanted to "have an adventure" (it's a freaking third world country where I don't speak or read the language - I'm pretty sure it will be an adventure anyway), I hired a guide to set up a trip through Nepal and Tibet (because why visit one third world country when you can see two?). We also set a couple of days aside to acclimate to the time shift in Bangkok.

Now I just have to survive this last week of constant calls of "Dad, Dad!! Are you excited yet? Are you excited yet?" and a 17 hour plane ride to Bangkok (nothing says fun like increased risk of DVT's). Oh, and a mudslide recently killed 26 people in a village about 50 km from where we will be travelling. Woo hoo!