Bar-tha-low-na!

When Christian and I started dating our conversations frequently turned to where in the world we’d like to travel next. It was and continues to be a checklist of sorts. Our common mantra, “What’s left and when can we go?". In the early days, our next up list looked like this: Greece, Spain, and some sort of tropical locale like Bali or Thailand. We managed to make it to Greece in May of 2008 and it remains the best trip either of us has ever been on. It was there we discovered that this pairing we’d been trying out was actually pretty spectacular, probably even perfect.  And that coupling wasn’t just feta cheese and the tastiest tomatoes we’ve ever eaten.  I left the Greek islands knowing a sense of joy that I had never before known.  The only thing better than reliving that trip is reflecting on the years that have grown from it. And what a magnificent time it’s been!

When talk came around to where we’d honeymoon we decided it only made sense to refer back to our original list. We could cross off Thailand and Bali because we knew that with our new geography, we’d get those covered in the next year. That left Spain. We knew we had to pick a location in Spain that we could get to fairly easily all the way from Singapore so we honed in on Barcelona and decided that a road trip through Spain’s culinary North would suit us both just fine. For Christian, this meant lots of time on the open road in a rented convertible with music blaring and for me, well, this meant access to a smorgasbord of all the Spanish culinary delights I could stuff in my beak.  We’d both be in heaven.

BARCELONA
After a 20 hour trek, we landed in Barcelona and headed to our temporary digs. Our lodging for the next couple days is right off La Rambla, a tree-lined pedestrian mall that is pretty touristy. Men painted gold and asking for change almost outnumber the ladies painted silver asking for change. But we're also in very close proximity to the Gothic Quarter and Mercat de La Boqueria, one of the most amazingly abundant and beautiful outdoor markets in the world (and future location of our breakfasts, mid-day snacks, and sometimes even late night snacks).  I believe I’ve mentioned, I really like food. Upon entering, you can grab a fresh squeezed juice, meander the rows and rows of fresh vegetables, fruit, cheese, nuts, meat, and baked goods, then sit down to a typical Barcelonian breakfast - cafe con leche and tortilla de patates, an omelette consisting of potatoes, egg, and onion - pick up some meat and produce for dinner, and top off the occasion with a beer and more pintxos (tapas). I'm certain a better day does not exist.

In Barcelona, you can walk by any bar and spy a spread of snacks so plentiful that you can almost see the marble they’re sitting on sag under their delectable weight. When you’re in Spain, gone is the notion that bar snacks need only be a bag of Lay’s or a giant dill pickle.  This is the land of jamon and cava, people! Afternoons consist of bellying up, sipping a beverage, and choosing from your pick of small delights to quell your peckishness before dinner. Choose from ham and any assortment of sausage, cheese stuffed peppers, peppers stuffed with albacore, goat cheese dusted with ground walnuts, or padron peppers sprinkled with sea salt. All of it curled up on top a square of bread and doused with the best olive oil you've ever eaten and if you so desire, an anchovy. Pile them up, eat away, and when you’re finished, count up your toothpicks and pay the bill.

We spent our days in Barcelona breakfasting at the market where we'd identify a quadrant of the city we'd like to explore that day. On our first outing, we hiked over to La Sagrada Familia, a spectacle of a church designed by Gaudi. This thing has had more facelifts than Joan Rivers. The actual construction of it, which has been ongoing for well over 100 years, is as spectacular as it's ornate carvings, which depict the life of Christ. This thing is so loaded down you're eyes just don't know where to look. We did our best to take it all in, then hopped in a cab to visit the Picasso Museum in El Born, a beautiful neighborhood full of shops and cafes. The collection is impressive, but the medieval palaces the museum is housed in are equally fascinating. You just can't beat European architecture.

After we absorbed some culture, it was time to
refuel. Amazingly, we were able to find Bar Del Pla, a restaurant that came very highly recommended, a few streets away from the museum. It's a casual joint run by two brothers; one who pours seriously good wine out the front and one who churns out simple but delicious food in the back. Our "light" meal consisted of pan con tomate (a local specialty of grilled bread rubbed with tomatoes and garlic, drizzled with olive oil), fried artichokes, padron peppers, seared tuna and figs, and tempura battered squash blossoms. Each dish was gorgeous and could easily be served in any number of fine dining establishments, but the kicker? This is bar food in Spain. Simple, humble even, food made from a handful of fresh ingredients. We spent the meal sipping wine and gushing over the food's beauty and tastiness and left only about $30 poorer. Excellent.

Over the next couple days we zigzagged through Barcelona, taking in hundreds of architectural delights, snacking and feasting on amazing food that was amazingly cheap, and walking the streets of a beautiful Gothic city. A stellar start to our stellar start. Let the honeymoonying begin! But only after we have a few more pintxo's...

To see more of our time in Barcelona, head on over to flickr.

Fragrant Harbour

 
Our trip to Hong Kong was a major success, even if after visiting, I still don't get exactly what it is. So it's a division (if you will) of China but what does that mean exactly? I know I don't have to visit the Chinese embassy to get a visa before traveling like I do when I go elsewhere in China, so I guess I get it? But it also gets a little hazy when navigating around. So there's Hong Kong island, then across the bay is Kowloon, and then you have something called the new territories. Isn't it all Hong Kong? (I probably shouldn't skip over the history and geography sections of our travel books.) Regardless, the things I am sure of are: Hong Kong is pretty awesome and it's a great place to buy a camera, take in an underwhelming light show on a junk boat, and break your toe.

Doesn't Christian look thrilled?

Our hotel arranged a free shuttle from the airport and as we were driving into the city we took in the lush green scenery. With all the hills and waterways, we couldn't help comparing it to San Francisco. This is going to be good, I thought, as I tucked into my newly purchased chewy candy (the pack that made us nearly miss our shuttle). Once we got settled into our hotel (on the Kowloon side, if that means anything to you), we grabbed some lunch and started plotting our day. I was anxious because our only working camera had been lost in Melbourne a few weeks before and I hated being somewhere new without a camera to capture our every move. I had done a little research and found to my great surprise that the lowest cost and most highly respected camera shop (insert Christian's eye rolling here) I'd narrowed in on was right around the corner (another eye roll). Thirty minutes later, we set off to shop, me with my shiny new Canon around my neck. The touring can commence!

Something actually fits!

As we scooted off to find our first shopping destination (after all, we are who we are), I continued to pretend that the fancy new - and entirely clunky - DSLR camera we just got wasn't weighing me down immensely (it was) for fear of hearing Christian's first "told you so" of the trip. We entered the crowded MTR station and navigated around surprisingly well for two directionally challenged individuals. Our first stops were several menswear shops for Christian. He has a real knack for finding such awesome men's stores everywhere we go that even I enjoy the time (countless hours) we spend in them. I don't have the same luck finding women's threads. Not surprisingly, clothes made for Asian women just don't work for me. Hmm, most likely the 5 foot 10 inch body with very broad shoulders, long monkey arms, and extremely big hands. Nonetheless, the strolling, the window shopping, and trying on the occasional stuffed bear head work for me. I just like to take it all in.

Aside from being a pretty great shopping destination, Hong Kong also boasts one of the loveliest skylines I've ever seen. It's so spectacular, Christian suggested we take it in in two ways. A duo of total tourist-ness. We joined hundreds of others, who I was delighted to see were also lugging around ginormous cameras, on a crowded tram to the top of a very large peak to peer out over Hong Kong.

Later that afternoon, we signed up for yet another tourist trap - a junkboat tour of Victoria Harbor to see the light show. At 8pm every evening, the buildings on both the Hong Kong and Kowloon side light up to the tunes of very bad music, complete with lasers. Think 80's Tron, on water. You get on this boat made to look like an old junkboat, cash your drink coupon in for a beverage of your choosing, they sail you out to the middle of the harbor, and you sit back and wait for sundown. Once it's dark, the pre-recorded play-by-play begins and you sit back and enjoy the show.  It as about as ridiculous as one might expect, which made for a pretty fun evening and one spectacular view.

After the laser-fest, we headed back to Kowloon to check out the Temple Street Night Market. A series of streets and alleyways that are full of food stalls, fortune tellers, and stall after stall of cheap crap that for some reason always looks deceptively cool and necessary to have in the moment.

I had almost talked myself into a set of silk pajamas and a sign reading "No smoking I will crazy" but hunger set in so we set off to find some streetfood. It was a little overwhelming with so many options. We finally settled on a kebab joint. It was only when we walked up to it that we noticed some drunk man left his sick all over the entry way. Hunger quelled. So we ended up at Outback Steakhouse. Don't knock it 'til you reintroduce yourself to the rib platter. Sweet BBQ sauce deliciousness.

Seeing Hong Kong was every bit as cool as we thought it would be. There's a grit and dirtiness to it that is just so much fun to visit, especially when you reside in Singapore. Hong Kong is The Fonz to Singapore's Richie Cunningham. It's a city that caters to many cultures. It's both old and modern, but it doesn't try too hard. There are places to go and people to see (a TON of people - over 7 million people reside there) and we both left hoping we'd come back. One more stop on this journey down, two more satisfied travelers.

To check out all our Hong Kong pics, head on over to flickr!

Holy Matrimony!

Here we are, almost two months after the wedding and we've settled back into life in Singapore as a husband and a wife. Which, truthfully, feels pretty much like life before except now when we see people out, we introduce each other as "wife" and "husband" and typically the one of us being referred to looks around bewildered for a moment. And, Christian has accepted that married life means a lifetime of hitting his head on the kitchen cabinets that no matter how clean and organized I really am, I always forget to close. And I've realized that I can look forward to a life of picking up the popcorn kernels that don't make their way into Christian's mouth during a post-dinner popcorn session (which occur at a shockingly high rate for a man with such a svelte figure) so Phoebe won't choke on them. But in addition to marriage meaning true acceptance of each other's idiosyncrasies it also means that we've each not only gained a new family, but we've become one. We're Christian, Sarah, and Phoebe and we're the Conway's.

Nothing spells wedding more than the realization of how your life and family will change when you say "I do". It feels amazing to know that this California girl has a whole other league of people in the Northeastern U.S. that are not only pulling for us, but for me. A new set of parents, a brother, a couple of sister's and countless aunts and uncles and cousins. For those of you who know me, you know this has been a lifelong dream. Coming from a somewhat small family who'd have holiday dinners that never consisted of having to add an extra leaf to the table, I'm thrilled by the idea of big family dinners and a kid's table (for Christian). Not that I don't love my tiny family. These folks are my people. Being able to watch my family grow into a new generation with the addition of my beloved niece, nephews, and soon-to-be-born niece has been amazing. Age has given me clarity about who each and every one of them are and where I fit in and I feel nothing short of blessed to have such stellar people in my corner.

So for us, this wedding wasn't just an event to have people share in our love, it became a moment in time to celebrate who we both are, where we came from, and who we want to be together. This couldn't happen without including a nod to our past and getting everyone involved and this proved to be the easiest task. The realization that our loved ones didn't feel compelled to help, but grateful to was nothing short of astounding for a person who likes to do it all herself. You mean you WANT to talk to me about floral arrangements? You WANT to collect over 100 vintage hankies for me? You're WILLING to go through all your old photo's to track down wedding pictures of every single couple in your family since, well, forever?

The two weeks I spent in San Francisco prior to the wedding were an exhausting and exhilarating whirlwind of errands, ribbon tying, hand-stamping, and the search for the perfect pair of wedding shoes. My troops and I moved between last minute runs to the craft store, dress fittings, phone calls with vendors, late night table assignment do-overs, and bleary-eyed sessions of laughter, tears, and something I'll coin "laughter-tears". I can't count how many times I wondered why I was putting myself through all of this (but I'm so glad I did). I'll never forget the three days I spent with my mom where I demanded we hit every Kate Spade store in the greater Northern California area to find the exact pair of heels I wanted (no, NEEDED) for the wedding. The fits I had over finding the EXACT color, shape, and width of ribbon for the girl's bouquets. The days I insisted we devote to finding the perfect font for the welcome packets so it would match our invitations. The hours long search for the perfect baby photo that yielded a walk down memory lane with a 2am review of my baby book. The thing I will never forget aside from all the aforementioned lunacy I put my mom through, was her smile through every insane moment of it.

We spent the evening before our wedding at a beautiful spot under the stars in one of our favorite places on earth. We heard our nearest and dearest share stories of our lives together and we feasted on the local food we had missed so much during our time in Asia. I got to watch my pregnant sister playing barrel of monkeys with my six year old niece and spend time with my childhood friend who had travelled from China to be there with us. I got to meet all the fantastic people who knew Christian before I did. I watched my parents and siblings mingle with my new parents and siblings. And I got to walk around in all of this hand in hand with a person I know will be by my side for the rest of my life. Life. Is. Splendid.

Wedding day started early with a hair and make-up-a-thon like I've never seen. By 9am all of my besties were seated at different make-shift stations getting primped and prodded for my big day. I felt unusually calm. I had spent the last 9 months of our engagement worried not about how I was going to plan this thing from Singapore but how I would manage to get through it all without bawling and sweating my way through the ceremony. I can't get through an entire episode of that "move that bus!" show without nearing total breakdown. Follow that up with a show about abused dogs and I'm not leaving the house 'til I get all the sadness out. There was no way I was going to wake up on my wedding day and be able to hold it together. But, here I was, taking it all in like a pro.

When we got to the venue and saw all the work that was going into making my vision for the day a reality, excitement hit and left the door cracked open for a little nervousness to sneak in. By the time my sister and mom got me into that beautiful white gown, all I could think of was seeing Christian. I'll never forget being led to the vine covered archway to enjoy our last moment together before we were to be married. He was standing with his back to me and when he turned around with tears in his eyes, it was all I could do to blink away my own. This was it. This was our beginning, and it was just the first of so many moments that I will never forget.

Walking down the aisle on the arm of my dad, seeing Christian's mom's face full of joy at the end of the aisle, looking beyond her to see my husband and alongside him our favorite people. Sharing our first moment together as husband and wife with Christian's dad. All of the incredible toasts delivered with love by the people we love. Our first dance, however awkward and bumbling. Dancing in the arms of my beloved pops. Seeing my friends twirl my niece around and around the dance floor, knowing this would be a moment she'd remember when she was old. Walking barefoot but still in our wedding clothes to our rental home at the end of the night. Waking up with my husband, exhausted but still giddy, at 5am the next morning and recounting all the glorious moments from the days before.

It would take at least 100 more paragraphs to truly convey the gratitude we feel in our hearts toward the people that helped make our day the heartfelt event that it was but I will say this: Our wedding - this supposed celebration of OUR love - turned out to be a celebration of all the love that had been shown to us in our lifetime. The honor and pride and gratitude we feel are emotions that we are so thankful to have been given and ones that we will never forget. So, thank you to all of our family and friends, and not just the ones that were there to celebrate with us, but to everyone who has touched our lives. We feel truly blessed.

Photographer's photos are here! View the gallery here. (password is: moore)

http://christianandsarahgethitched.shutterfly.com/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/9369398@N04/sets/72157627157126156/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/10064690@N00/sets/72157627302722024/

Down with Ko Phi Phi

I try to glean as much as possible from the experiences we've been given through this relocation. I know how much we’ve sacrificed to be here and I also know how lucky we are to have these opportunities. I’m learning that my usual self, the one who is a little bit control freak and slightly (charmingly!) obsessive about planning, tends to jam as much experience, manufactured or otherwise, into these adventures so we don’t miss out on anything. This has a tendency to backfire. So, going forward, I’m going to employ a fresh new outlook to our travels. A little something I’m going to call W.W.T.B.D. (or, What Would Tony Bourdain Do?). Now that’s a guy who can navigate the globe and experience each new place just like a local would. He’s relaxed about it, eats good food, doesn’t ask too many questions, and he would never, ever pay to ride an elephant.

We chose to break into Thailand by visiting Krabi, a region south of Phuket, known for spectacular beaches surrounded by massive limestone formations. We arrived in Krabi on a Friday morning. It was overcast, wickedly hot and humid, and because of the onset of rainy season, a virtual ghost town. Our first rookie move was to head to the spa and feel justified spending way too many baht on spa treatments, because what else were we going to do? It was practically raining outside. We were rubbed and scrubbed and masked for two hours, only to find out that while we were lounging inside the sun was shining and sleepy little Krabi was alive and well. We hightailed it to the pool, grabbed a beer from the swim up bar and watched the sun go down. (Lesson #1: Never stay at a hotel with perks like a swim up bar. It always sounds like a great idea but you quickly learn that it’s no longer fun to be in Cancun over Spring Break. You end up sipping a syrupy mai tai next to some hairy backed fat man who’s avoiding his children. The ones who are yipping and splashing at the other end of the pool.)

Our next venture into naiveté happened when we booked a morning shuttle to a group boat tour to Ko Phi Phi (pronounced Ko Pee Pee), a rumored “heaven on earth” landscaped with white sand and turquoise water). Think Leo DeCaprio in The Beach. Literally. It was filmed there. We woke up at the crack of dawn, met up with the rest of the group and shuttled off at 8am only to drive 20 miles and sit at the dock waiting for our boat until they decided to tell us the trip had been cancelled due to weather. Of course it was. (Lesson #2: Never sign up for group tours. They’re for the people who think visiting San Francisco includes a stop at Fisherman’s Wharf.) This idle time led us to our (my) next hair-brained scheme – an elephant safari. A one hour ride atop a gentle giant? How can this be bad?

Christian was skeptical from the onset. I was seduced by the prospect of encountering a magnificent beast with sweetly flapping ears, long curly eyelashes, and a trunk that she’d extend out toward me for a nuzzle or perhaps a peanut. I’d hop onto her trunk and she’d sit me gently on her back and we’d set off for a jungle tour where we’d encounter some of her furry friends. When she finished showing me her happy home, we’d head back and I would feed her bananas and wash her with a long scrubby brush. We’d promise to write and she’d paint me a picture and we’d part ways, both enriched by the experience.

The fact that we were the only people who signed up for the tour should have been enough to encourage the cancelling of this plan but I still clung to my dream of frolicking with a wild animal so we went with it. We arrived at Nosey Parker, the elephant safari where all the posters reminded us that they “treated their animals like royalty”! Once our girl was herded toward us and we climbed the tower to deposit our extra 300+ combined pounds onto the strange rattan seat that was PVC piped to her back, reality came rushing at me. We were perched up there like the Beverly Hillbillies, my extra large bag of beach items squished in between us, our ignorance shining for all the world to see.


It became very clear, very quickly that this was not going to be the experience I dreamed up in my head. You could feel the poor gal struggling to carry us, my cargo, the guide, and his evil metal tipped instrument over rocky, uneven terrain. There was no path unless you count a large creek and extremely narrow pathways better suited for an animal with the same girth as a cat. Our elephant would let out the most heartbreaking moan and refuse to budge until coerced by the aforementioned wooden instrument. One heavy whack to her head by the guide and I lost it, tears streaming down my face, as I realized my own involvement in this awfulness. This was five minutes into the hour long tour. We carried on (we had no choice, really, we were in the middle of a jungle and atop a very tall animal), posed for uncomfortable pictures and continued to witness this mighty beast struggle and moan her way through our safari adventure. The one we paid money to experience. At least my outburst stopped the mahout from openly whacking her again.

At the end of the trek, we tried to communicate our sincerest apologies to the sweet girl by stuffing as many pineapples as we could into her trunk and I vowed to never ever solicit wildlife for entertainment again. Christian, who was never all that psyched about the adventure in the first place and who like me, was visibly shaken by the awfulness of it all, perked right up. His travel-mate had just been cured of her incessant need to experience a new country by doing all the things that the internet tells her to do. You know, all the things the locals never, ever do. He’ll never again be subjected to a dolphin ride (but it’ll be just like Flipper!), a zoological night tour (you get to see monkeys IN THE DARK!), or a sign language course with an orangutan (although this I could be talked into). And this leads us to Lesson #3: Don’t be me on vacation.

After a solemn car trip back to the hotel, we got gussied up for our big trek into Krabi Town. We took a shuttle with several other hotel guests and drove for about 45 minutes, stopping along the way at Ao Nang , a quaint little seaside community with loads of restaurants and shops. Under my tutelage, we skipped over that tourist trap to reach our final destination, Krabi Town. This was the spot to be. I read it on the internet and the hotel staff backed me up! (Lesson #4: Never listen to hotel staff. They’re paid to make you feel like you know what you’re doing.) We left the shuttle, took two steps, and realized we had a made a huge mistake. We were plopped right into an average, random neighborhood in Krabi. Imagine visiting San Francisco as a tourist and being dropped off in a strip mall in Daly City. No café’s, no photo opp’s, just an old music store where they were still making a go of it slinging tapes (you know, the rectangular thingies you’d stick into decks and music would play?), and a night market consisting of a bouncy house, an entire booth devoted to croc's, and a place to buy deep fried potatoes on a stick. As redeeming as a fried food item on a stick can be, it didn’t make up for the rain that started to fall. Another day bites the dust.



Our last day in Thailand, we were determined to seek redemption. While we waited out the rain in Krabi Town the night before, we met a fellow American who had been in Thailand for the last six months. Nevermind what he was probably doing there (alone, so far from home), he gave us a few tips and we headed back to Ao Nang, the picturesque town we had passed up the night before. From there we took a longboat to Railay Beach. As soon as we hit the shores of Railay, we knew we had found Thailand. The beauty of the shoreline was breathtaking. Aqua colored water, white sand, a plethora of shops and café’s that didn’t appear to be modeled after a set at Universal Studios. We enjoyed a simple but enjoyable day of hanging on the beach, swimming in the ocean, and relaxing at a seaside café. Turns out you don’t have to Frommer your way through a vacation to find the good stuff.



Thailand is a beautiful place. The ocean is warm. The sand is soft and white. The food is every bit as delicious as you'd imagine it would be. The people who live there are incredibly gracious and welcoming (not counting the few who need a lesson or two on the magnificence of the mighty elephant). Mishaps aside, we were treated to a view of a spectacular corner of the world and we returned home feeling grateful we had another tale to tell. Life is pretty sweet!

To check out the rest of our pictures from Thailand, head here.

Beijing: So Much More Than Hanging Duck Carcasses

China was never very high on my "places to go" list. I can say that easily, without fear of exposing my complete and utter ignorance, because I've just returned from Beijing and I'm happy to admit how I wrong I have been. My previous view of China was based on, rather pathetically, my experiences in San Francisco's Chinatown. Images of overly crowded streets, foreign smells, and hanging duck carcasses left me preferring to spend my precious vacation time in places like Greece or Europe before I ever stepped foot in Asia. It's amazing what taking a leap of faith can do. In four months I will have covered more of Asia than I ever thought possible and enjoyed every minute of it, proving that change can sometimes be very rewarding. (Don't read too much into that, mom, no Thanksgiving will ever be complete without regular old, no frills stuffing.)

I landed in Beijing on Friday evening. Christian had already been there for a couple days at a conference. The ride from the airport was uneventful and Beijing, from the taxi window and in the evening light, looked like it could be anywhere else in the world. Aside, I guess, from the illegible street and highway signs. I was looking forward to seeing Christian, but a little apprehensive about how this trip would go, and most importantly, how we'd ever find something not scary to eat. At this point I was armed with my preconceived notions and the fact that Christian had been served cow lung and duck tongue. Once, about ten years ago, I acquired a duckling. It was only for a few days, until we turned it over to a local wildlife reserve, but "Mabel" had peeped and pecked and preened her way into my heart. After a baby duck the size of a hamster nestles into your sweater to keep warm, feasting on a member if it's family, however far removed, is not an option. I don't care how "peking" it is. Trying to look at the bright side, I told myself this would be the perfect opportunity to start that wedding diet.

Christian had arranged for our tour of the Great Wall of China first thing that first morning and when we woke up at the crack of dawn, we were delighted to see a light blanket of snow on the ground. Being from California, and the Central part at that, I still thrill at the sight of the clean white cold stuff that makes everything look like it's covered in marshmallow fluff. Yum. As we headed out, the lovely dusting had turned into a heavier coating and as we got closer to the Wall, our decision to forgo the over-crowded tourist section for the more scenic yet more steep and more remote location in Mutianyu started to seem like a very, very bad one. It wasn't exactly a blizzard but considering our past travel luck, I couldn't help but take stock of what we had in the way of provisions: about 1/3 of one pint of water, 13 almonds, and an oat and honey granola bar. For five of us.

Our rickety little caravan consisted of us, our tour guide, Lin, our driver, and Mark, one of Christian's friends and co-workers. By the time we got to Mutianyu and helped the one other tour bus that was there by pushing it up the snow-covered hill before it slid down it, my converse and Christian's black patent leather Jack Purcell's were soaked. Totally charmed by the snow and picturesque scenery, the prospect of hiking one hour up a steep slope in our ridiculous city clothes seemed like a good idea, so we decided against the gondola and bounced off in the direction of the Wall, snow falling like bits of confetti around our widely smiling faces.



The ascent up the slope was so tiring that it cancelled out the cold on most my person, except for my toes, which were numb about five minutes in. Luckily, when it really got bad, we reached a peak where you could see the first section of wall, and wonder and awe took over. The overwhelming feeling of gratitude and amazement that I was where I was trumped all thoughts of losing a toe to hypothermia. What a wonder the Wall truly is. You can't help but think of the 1000's of people across history who lost their lives to build it, the people who were saved by it's existence, and the people who have stood in wonder, just like I did, at it's magnificence. In case you didn't know (I didn't), parts of this wall, in some form, have been around since 200 BC and some estimates put the current standing, fully man-made wall at over 8,000 km long. So. Utterly. Cool.


Next, our guide took us to a restaurant serving up the local cuisine. Uh-oh. Another review of my remaining provisions yielded eight almonds and one half of the granola bar. I'd be fine. Entering the restaurant, we were met with a surprisingly pleasant aroma and eight baby food jars sitting atop a cabinet near the hostess stand, each one with it's own large insect tenant. A cricket, to be exact. After nervously staring at the critters, we asked our guide as nonchalantly as we could muster, if they were to be part of our lunch. She looked at us as if we were crazy and explained to us that they keep them around to hear the cricket's sing, going so far as to carry the jar's with them in their coat pockets. How...strangely beautiful. I decided at this point to set my perceptions aside and just go with it, and it worked out in my favor. We left lunch with bellies full of noodles, pork, and only one odd dish of some starchy substance that we dipped fried strips of something in. Ignorance is bliss.


Next up was Tienanmen Square and the Forbidden City. The square is huge, much larger than I expected, and full of visitors who come to take their picture next to the huge portrait of Mao that is hanging near the entrance to the Forbidden City. The Emperor's old digs were equally large but heaps more fascinating. It was so cool to step into a piece of ancient history, and I eagerly listened to Lin describe all the structural detail, while Christian and Mark tried to keep their ears warm and counted the minutes 'til we were back in the car. My excitement, even in 20 degree weather, was slightly disturbing as I realized how much closer I've become to turning into my mother (love you, mom).

The next day, Christian and I took to the streets and headed to an area of town called Dashanzi Art District, or 798 for short. It's a thriving artistic community nestled inside 50-year old decommissioned military factory buildings built by the Germans. When the factory zone was abandoned in the early 80's, the University of Fine Art bought the buildings to use as workspace for their art students. Then, about ten years ago, a Texan strolled into town and bought one of the spots to open Timezone 8 Bookshop and Cafe (which is where we lunched). An employee of his, who was also a designer, started helping her artist friends secure their own studio's and it all blossomed from there. There are now literally 100's of studios and gallery spaces and every street is lined with incredibly large art installations. Another point for Beijing!



Another memorable Beijing experience took place on one of our last evenings, in an area of town nestled around Hoi Hai Lake. The lake itself was carved out in the 12th century, but the banks are now dotted with alfresco bars, cafes, and the odd curio shop. The bars are mostly filled with locals singing bad renditions of Bryan Adams songs, but the backalleys behind the shops and the ancient bridges and temples that are sprinkled throughout are worth exploring. We had several ice-less "whiskey colas" and ended up at a great restaurant called "Cafe Sambal", a delightful gem of a restaurant, which was in the middle of an old run down neighborhood. The delicious Maylasian food they served was a perfect night cap to our fantastic and fascinating trip.


China, your land and your people have captured my heart and piqued my interest. I can't wait to start planning for Hong Kong, then Shanghai, and beyond!

YOU'LL FIND ALL OUR PHOTOS FROM BEIJING HERE.

Just come from a land down under...

Four months into our adventure overseas and already another continent down, another pushpin in the world map! I prepared for our trip down under by spending $60 on travel guides and not cracking a single one of them. Typically, I like to have tour books dog-eared and our days road-mapped before we depart but I headed to Australia a mere 36 hours after I touched down in Singapore from my San Francisco trip, where I jammed four weeks worth of activities, eating, and wedding planning into 8 days.

I returned to the airport feeling as if I'd never left. The only thing I could focus on was how amazing my family and friends are for throwing me such a sweet bridal shower and whether or not I chose the right food and floral arrangements for the wedding. I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that I was headed to an entirely new-to-me continent. I know next to nothing about Australia aside from the fact that they talk funny and like to play boomerang so when we touched down in Melbourne, I fully expected to peer out the window and see a vast continent of flat land and a mob of roo's hopping around under a pack of eucalyptus trees. You know, for the koala bears.

We were to hit up both Melbourne and Sydney this go round, starting with Melbourne, where Christian would be participating in a three day work conference. Motorola set us up in the Crowne Metropol, a hotel near Melbourne's Central Business District. Our room was lovely but the hotel itself was nestled in a mega-casino and shopping complex, complete with a food court and movie theater. It was one of those Vegas type monstrosities that span several city blocks, where you only have to feel the outside air if you want to. Weird. We landed on a Friday and took the weekend to check out town. We were pleased to find Melbourne a lot like SF. A great mix of old architecture and modern galleries, indie boutiques, and no shortage of hip new restaurant's and bars. I guess the pre-wedding slim down is just going to have to wait.




Whenever we head to some place new, our agenda usually centers around finding the best places to eat with some shopping and a smidge of sightseeing thrown in (mostly for the picture's). As we started to explore Melbourne, I knew that our waistlines were in trouble. It was refreshing to find many different ethnic options, a ton of cafe's focused around sustainability and fresh ingredients, and very few fast food chains (so basically, nothing like Singapore). Our first lunch was at a very small wine and tapas bar called Movida that we stumbled into from an alley made colorful with tons of graffiti. One thing we discovered about Australia is that there is a thriving art scene. There are art walks aplenty with a plethora of museums for every taste. This artist's culture is also manifested in the streets. Street art of every kind is encouraged and appreciated
and because it's so revered, it's sprinkled throughout the city, making everything look like it's got a little more flair.



Movida turned out to be a fantastic choice and a memorable meal, so memorable in fact, I tracked down the chef's cookbook a few days later and took it home with me as a souvenir, thus beginning my new tradition: picking up a cookbook from a local chef or one that showcases the local cuisine from every stop in our world trek. But back to Melbourne, and specifically, Movida. There's something about the Spanish way of eating - small plates meant to be mulled over lazily with friends and copious amounts of wine - that I just adore. We had an assortment of delicious nibbles, from fresh olive oil rolls to sea scallops with crispy pancetta, mushroom croquettes, an ahi salad, and fried potato bombas filled with chorizo. We washed it all down with plenty of tipple - two glasses of wine and a boozy dessert of lemon sorbet with cava macerated strawberries. Ahh, vacation.

There weren't a ton of landmarks we needed to check off the list, so we spent the rest of our time in Melbourne doing what the locals do - walking around, scouting places to eat our next meal, and shopping. Four months before the nuptials, and it turns out we've embarked on a quest for the world's most elusive man's suit. Although it's a city filled with an incredible array of shopping, Melbourne left us empty-handed. Something tells me this is going to be an ordeal. I feel for Christian (but I'm secretly relieved that my gown has been selected, paid for, and is currently being fitted). It's amazing how many of our days are filled with handling the details of the wedding, thinking about some aspect of it, chasing down items for it, and most recently, having recurring nightmares about flubbing some part of it. Here we are, literally continents away, and the majority of our conversations and at the top of our every to do list, is the wedding. Is this normal? Here I go again....

Next up was Sydney. If Melbourne is San Francisco's hipster cousin, Sydney is definitely SF's beefed up big brother. The city is SF on steroids. It's big, it's beautiful, and the food and art scene's are a melting pot of flavors and cultures. We immediately love it here, and I'm struck with wondering whether everyone compares where they come from with their new surroundings or whether it's only something we do because we so desperately miss our city, our family and friends, and our old way of life. As we enjoy the southeastern coast of Australia, the comparison's don't stop. Our ferry trip to Manly Harbor for dinner one evening takes us through small seaside towns off the coast of Sydney that could easily be somewhere in Maine. Our walk through a hip shop and gallery lined street called Chapel in South Yarra, Melbourne, may as well have been Mission Street in San Francisco. As I have the opportunity to travel more and more I realize that wherever I am in the world, "home" and the people that I'm so lucky to have inhabit my life are always close by in my heart. I see them in everything we do and everywhere we go. And that, loved ones, is what I learned in Australia. (Note: Somebody may need to remind me of this revelation when we start our travels in China.)

If you like great food, fantastic shopping, art, culture, and a seriously beautiful coastline, New South Wales and Victoria, Australia are outstanding places to visit. During our trip, the Queensland area experienced devastating floods and destruction due to a cyclone and Egypt was suffering from a frightening and violent (yet somehow still hopeful) uprising. We watched it all unfold on TV while we escaped the heatwave that hit Sydney and there's nothing like witnessing hardship to remind you just how lucky you are. I still can't believe I'm getting married in less than four months. It still hasn't even sunk in that I get to share my life with a person and a pup who fill my days and nights with laughter and happiness. The fact that we're getting to see the world together while we build and create all the details of what will be the beginning of our future, is just the icing on this incredibly huge cake that I feel so, so fortunate to have been given.


Check out more photo's from our trip down under here.