liverighttravelfar

Life is a Journey, Savor it.


1 Comment

Ambon, Indonesia brought me to my knees

Currently I’m stuck in Ambon, Indonesia. I want it to be an idyllic, oozing sort of tropical provincial capital city but my optimism has mangled to carrion. Death by bugs, rain and bland bustle.

Despite the guidebook’s attempt at a favorable description, Kota-Ambon fails to live up to anything but reality: this is a bonafide bustle in a country that holds up universally-execrated Jakarta as a model metropolis. Ambon fits the mold of its big, mean, ugly older sister city: it’s polluted, littered with trash and produces odd smells that mix feces with NASA-grade adhesives. It is uninspiring to the extreme despite its picturesque seaside setting–and I’m a devout “always look on the bright side” kinda gal. What a shame. My impressions are not rectified by the citizens who seem to have either an unfortunate lisp, poor comprehension of anatomy or highly misinformed English teachers–or might they be cursed with all of the above? “Hallo Mister!” children and teenagers jubilantly proclaim to me as I stroll past in teal skirt and purple sunglasses.

Before arriving to Ambon I’d read the Lonely Planet guide and brushed up on travelers forums about my short-stay home. The research hardly required even one cup of kopi rorobang, the local answer to caffeine-injected rocket fuel… Prior to immersion I learned that Ambon is best known for three things (besides its aforementioned notoriety as the capital of one of Indonesia’s most scattered and largest regions): Continue reading

Advertisements


1 Comment

If–>Then: Planning & Decision-making

I aim to be optimistic and always provide a genuinely encouraging portrayal of travel and life on the road but right now it feels downright dull and aggravating. Aggravating because of the combination of a plethora of options and my indecision paralysis are slowly driving me nuts. I know I don’t really have anything to complain about and I know my life is damn good; I’m blessed beyond measure to be able to travel footloose and fancy free–but I shall whine a bit regardless… Without the urgency of a compressed timeline (e.g. vacation, sabbatical) or the restrictions of needing to adhere to a specific itinerary, I find myself feeling listless and uninspired for the first time in months. I’ve been going for the better part of a year and it appears I’ve hit my slump.

For the record: I adore Waffle House (scattered, covered, smothered).

For the record: I adore Waffle House (scattered, covered, smothered).


My drive to pack up the backpack and hit the road is on hiatus. The itchy feet that plagued me months ago are feeling heavy and reluctant to put on more miles. The novelty of unfettered travel has lost some of its luster and now I feel like I’m sitting alone on a sticky vinyl booth inside an all-night diner; it’s 1am. The broken fluorescent lights twinkle off the dented silver milk tin next to my bottomless cup-o-joe as an indifferent waitress stares down at me. Though there are no other customers, she is impatient and irritated with me. Continue reading


4 Comments

Getting over the funk

Inevitably you will get sick. Whether seasonal flu, polluted lungs from smoggy city streets, or the dreaded travelers diarrhea variety it’s only a matter of time until you’re hacking up a lung or sh*tting out your internal organs. These are not the pretty stories of independent travel but they are universally shared and amount to an element of a backpacker’s bonafides…

Unhappily, I’ve experienced these three illnesses plus a nifty handful of weird infections, discoloring funguses and inexplicable fatigue. We’re not in Kansas anymore and the viruses and bacterias are a whole new kind of evil. 20130815-192354.jpg

Continue reading


4 Comments

Crowdsourcing: Cure for the Travel Doldrums?

I’m 2 ft away from the ocean. The tide is coming in and with each wave breaking on the shores, the water laps closer and closer to my lounger. A woman with a tray of pineapple and mangos on her head just walked by. Two local Khmer boys are playing in the surf.

It’s all pretty idyllic. A photo is attached of the little girl who sat with me for about a half hour trying to sell her bracelets. She looks how I feel, okay I still have a small smile on my face (it’s not so bad). If they’re not selling bracelets the girls rub my legs observing that I haven’t shaved in a couple days and offer to “thread” the hair off. It’s like plucking each hair, only more efficiently done with a tightly wound string. Hard to describe or envision until you see it. Yes it hurts, but only a little.

I’ve been on the roads nearly 9 months and all of a sudden that realization has gripped me with some emotional response I can’t pinpoint. I don’t think I’m homesick (where is home these days anyway?), I don’t believe it’s boredom or loneliness… I’m kind of at a loss to describe it. Maybe it’s travel fatigue, fatigue from all the constant new information and decisions. Tired of the price haggling and tight budget keeping. Temples run together, island hopping has lost some of its appeal, long bus journeys see, more grueling than adventurous. What’s a girl to do?

20130814-172900.jpg

Continue reading


Leave a comment

Oddities and the modern traveler

We are a mysterious breed, we travelers. I think I spend about as much time trying to make sense of my fellow travelers as I do getting to know the countries and people I visit.

bus comic Continue reading


Leave a comment

20130719-184900.jpg

Made it to Bangkok […and it only took 16 hours]!

If you follow me on social media, then you know my train left 6.5 hours behind schedule. You also know that I was quite pleased by this delay because it provided me with a few extra stolen hours to close of this 7 month chapter of Chiang Mai and Northern Thailand living.

Rather than wait a few infernal hours at the train station feeling stranded in a city that I’ve started to refer lightly to as “home,” I decided to better use my time by going to SheDance at The Yoga Tree. Continue reading


4 Comments

Thailand: 7 month inventory

My father and uncle, on the rare nights when they open up their Martin & old Gibson guitar cases, rattle through a repertoire of folksy and country songs. Rarely does anyone know all the words (Billy is the best contender for that prize) but generally enough of us know enough of the words to butcher any of about 3 dozen tunes. On the road again being one of the classics… Familiar yet unknown and therefore perfectly evocative of the nostalgic tug of home and magnetic draw of whatever comes next.

That’s the predominant emotional cocktail I have now. Reflective nostalgia coupled with that vibrating, yearning body sensation that tugs towards what’s next… Continue reading