From Gord:

The new China: 80 story super-highrises, monorails, 8 lane super-highways, and of course who uses these super-highways? Well, ox-drawn carts carrying hay, of course. Yes, be careful when you race out of Shanghai, or Wuhan, or Xi’an, or any other 10 million-person metropolis. As you drive your Audi A8 or your Beamer 7 series (yes, that’s what some drive there, ain’t communism grand?), you’ll be swerving to and fro to avoid the mule & ox-drawn vehicles of past millenia. And don’t think they are afraid of your 2 tons of steel rocketing by at Mach 0.2, no they know who owns the road and it ain’t those encased in chrome & black leather, blasting the AC. No the farmers and laborers slowly meander along the ribbons of concrete as if they were one of the ancient emperors of lost dynasties. They know who rules the road…

Welcome back buddy.

Glasgow…
is the friendliest town I’ve ever visited. People come up to you and offer help without you even asking. In fact, without you even needing it. Plus, they speak in a wonderful, musical way which I find absolutely irresistible (if very often unintelligible).

On the first night there, we ate in a pub which then turned into a Karaoke bar. I enjoyed watching people sing so we stayed. People came and sat with us, and pints and scotch kept appearing on our table. By the end of the night all the people in the bar were friends. It was a wonderful welcome.

Edinburgh…
Not to be outdone, is about the prettiest town I’ve ever seen, with its truly dramatic landscape. The Old City is built on the flanks of a mountain which is topped by an imposing castle. Oh, and it’s flanked by sea on two sides. We met up with Paul who showed us around, and we had a very good time. Pints on me in September, mate.

The highlands…
Are like a green version of Norway. I simply have to get back out there.

Tuesday:
Took a walk along the South Bank of the Thames. Westminster Bridge, London Eye (no, didn’t spend the 30$ on a ride), used book fair under Waterloo Bridge, Tate Modern, London Bridge and back over beautiful Tower Bridge. Walked all the way back in the rain. All attractions free!

Yesterday:
Buckingham and grounds, Harrods, Natural History Museum, Science Museum, Hyde Park. Again, the only price to pay is sore feet.

Yesterday evening:
Much Ado about Nothing at Shakespeare’s own Globe Theatre. Very authentic, including the fact that you stand in the courtyard watching the play, under the stars. More sore feet.

Today:
Brunch in Soho, walk all the way to Shoreditch, “the Plateau of London”. I prefer the Plateau. Sore, sore, blistered feet. Feeling wonderfully tired.

Two nights until Scotland!

London looks amazing, especially under cloud cover (but at least I got to see it in the sun and take pictures yesterday). I expected it to look pretty, but nothing to rival Paris. Haven’t had time to do much yet, just walked around the Thames and did the tourist thing (Parliament, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square - WOW).

Took a walk in the rain last night and the atmosphere, look and smell of the city with wet streets was incredible. Still very much looking forward to Scotland.

Well, off to the Tate… (I think).

Air Canada has been granted an extension to the protection from its creditors. Until May 21st. I leave on the 30th.

I really hope we don’t have to wait and worry all that time. I hope something happens before long.

Planning planning overplanning…

Am I in denial of this Air Canada thing? You decide.

I have all our expenses nicely laid out in an Excel spreadsheet. Those that are already paid (in Canadian) stay the same. Those that are left to pay (in Pounds) get adjusted with the daily change in the exchange rate for the Pound Sterling. On another tab, I have an encouraging plot of the cost of the trip, which has been steadily going down in the last few weeks as the Pound keeps getting cheaper.

On yet another plot, I have the daily high temperatures of London, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Inverness and Montreal. Sure, the UK isn’t tropical, but it’s warmer than here.

I call it wishful spreadsheeting.

We booked our London tickets with Air Canada. If it goes under, as seems quite possible, we not only lose the ticket money, but everything that’s already paid for and booked in the UK (like a week’s hotel in London and the flight to Edinburgh).

Crap. And I have to wait a month or even two to find out if we are a go. Is it okay to pray for an airline to stay aflight?

This week’s Monkey Business is about the time in my life when I felt most alive.

It may be a cliché of travel ads, but it was a novelty for me: I once lost my traveler’s checks in Bali, which left me penniless in the third world and led to a week of… living intensely.

Monday
Climb a mountain in the morning and upon my return to the hostel, realize my money belt is gone, along with all my money, mostly traveler’s checks. I am in a very remote area, and have to call Visa, but have very little cash for the phone. Get told the only phone that allows collect calls is in a neighboring town.

Freak out.

The story spreads around the village, and some kid on a scooter ends up giving me a ride to the village with the phone. I call Visa and they say I need to fax them a police report (Police??? FAX??? here???).

Find a police office, which is basically a tent. They manage to make me understand that they want me to go to the police office in the village where I lost the belt. I somehow explain that I can’t. They grudgingly type up the police report on an old typewriter, asking me all sorts of questions in Indonesian. It takes forever. Then I ask for my copy, and they type me a whole other one. They’re pissed at me, especially since what I lost is about three years of the average Indonesian’s salary.

Find a telephone office with a fax. Spend most of my remaining money (16$) faxing. Call Visa again, they say that department opens only tomorrow. Hitch a ride back to village where my hotel is, and get fed by the kind innkeeper.

Tuesday
Return to the village with the phone. Call Visa and they say, this is the London office and you need the New York one because you have US funds. It’s 4 am in New York so I have to wait 5 hours.

Wait 5 hours in park. I shit you not. Watch many wild dogs fornicating. Call New York, they say call London because you’re in Indonesia. Argue. They say okay, but the claims department is only open tomorrow. I freak out. I have no money.

A woman passes by. She only speaks Indonesian, but feeds me a snack, gestures that I should stay put, and leaves. A boy comes by on scooter, tells me in English his mother sent him. He brings me to their home, and translates my story for his family. They give me a bowl of rice and insist that I sleep there that night. I sleep on the floor of their humble, bug-infested home, managing to feel good knowing I have found good people.

Wednesday
Call New York claims department. They take a lot of my information and say they need 24 hours to verify it, before they can wire me money. Return to the village where my hotel is. By this time I’ve called my mother and told her the whole story, and the whole extended family is freaking out, calling my parents every few hours for news. Will I get my money back? Will I be able to come home? What will become of me?

Thursday
I want to return to the village with the phone, but the innkeeper says today is a Hindu holiday, and if I go outside I’ll be hugely disrespecting their religion. Spend the whole day in my hotel room, worrying, reading, writing.

Friday
Go to the village with the phone and call Visa New York again. My story doesn’t check out! Something about having US traveler’s checks from a Canadian bank. They pass the buck to Visa London, who say they can’t help if New York doesn’t okay it. Visa London however, much more sympathetic, say they have gotten in touch with my parents to check me out, and they inform me that both they and my parents spent the last day wondering what had become of me. They called each other regularly for news!

They make me wait another 6 hours for some other department to open. Wait 6 hours with the nice family, then I get informed that I will get new checks tomorrow! The kicker is, it’s in a faraway city, and the bank closes at noon on Saturday.

Saturday
Travel to the city early in the morning, and make it to the bank with 24 minutes to spare. They have no idea what I’m talking about. They won’t issue me checks, they won’t let me call Visa. I guess it doesn’t help that by this time I look like a bum, I’ve been wearing the same clothes in 30 degree weather for days. They draw me a crappy map to the phone company. I must call Visa and sort this out in the next 20 minutes, because I have about 3$ left and the bank will soon close. I’ll be stranded in a South East Asian city without a dime or a roof.

Run out of the bank and hire a guy on a mule (yes, a mule), shoving my remaining fortune in his hand. We get stuck in traffic. I’m freaking. Finally jump off the mule and run down the street to the phone company, turn the corner… and… see that the phone company building is now a pile of rubble. Aaaaaaaaarrgh!

Notice that they’ve set up a tent with phones. Phone Visa London (with whom I’m now on a first-name basis), they give me the name of another bank, I beg them to give news to my Mom, because I now have 11 minutes left!

Run run run, make it in time, get my money, practically kiss the guy at the counter, and go order a burger.

It’s done. We’ve booked our vacation for the two first weeks of June.

The itinerary is the following:
- five days in London, including a side trip to Hampshire to see Jane Austen’s house (side trip to Stonehenge too maybe?);
- fly to Edinburgh, Scotland;
- visit Edinburgh for two days, then make a side trip to St-Andrews;
- hop a train to Glasgow;
- visit Glasgow for two days;
- train to the Highlands, most likely Mallaig;
- return to Edinburgh then fly back to London, then Montreal.

Psyched!

(BTW: does anyone have a voltage adapter I can borrow?)

Where should we go on vacation in June?

This year T and I decided to ditch the idea of going for one big expensive trip to Australia, and instead go on two cheaper ones. It’s already settled that we’re going to Costa Rica in November, T’s choice. It’s now up to me to decide where we go in June.

My choice was Scotland, though there isn’t much to attract T there (hot hobbits don’t do it for him). However, we sort of took a step back when we looked at the cost of travelling in the UK. 29$ CAD for a cheap breakfast? 50$ for a bed in a dorm?

Is our information wrong or is it really that expensive? Perhaps we could go to Ireland and just pop on over to Glasgow for a few days?