Random Thoughts on Travel to Hong Kong

• Time is a fluid concept. We had breakfast on the plane (it was Central Time on board I guess) and an hour later we were on the ground at 7:30 p.m. local time. I asked Clyde about dinner, naturally.
• The Arctic Ocean. It's the only way Chicago could conceivably be on the way to Hong Kong. San Francisco seems like it's on the way to Hong Kong but not Chicago. United Airlines had suggested we change our connection from San Francisco to avoid delays due to the terrible California wildfires. So instead of flying over the Pacific Ocean, we flew over the Arctic Ocean. And by going through Chicago, we actually got there an hour earlier. It makes my head spin.
• Hong Kong is a tiny little city by Chinese standards. A mere 7 million inhabitants, it is dwarfed by many other Chinese cities that are home to 25 to 40 million. 
• The Arctic for a second bullet point. Does anyone else think it's mind blowing to be  going on a flight that goes inside the Arctic Circle? I understand in my head that the Earth is round and this is the most direct route. But my mind still can't quite grasp it. 
• It is yesterday at home. 
• In the taxi from the airport train to the hotel, I freaked a little because the driver drove on the left side of the road. I'd temporarily forgotten that in this former British colony, people drive on the left. I thought for sure we were going to crash into oncoming traffic.
• Back to the Arctic, people aren't meant to travel so far north. It isn't natural. Nor is it natural to fly at 30,000 feet. The only natural way to go to China is to travel for several months on foot to the ocean, the Pacific Ocean, take a ship for several more months, and never return. It only took us 15 hours to get here from Chicago. And that's a long travel day by 21st century standards.
• 18th century pioneers went great distances and never returned, but they also never had to make a connection at O'Hare.

All You Have to Do is Buy a Ticket

A co-worker asked where Clyde and I were going on our next big trip. When I told him we were going to Hong Kong and Tokyo right before Thanksgiving, his eyes opened wide and he shook his head with disgust.

"You ... jet setter!" he said.

He didn't mean anything bad, I don't think. But it amazes me how most people think that world travel is beyond them. I used to be that way until I met Clyde.

My annual trips to San Diego were the extent of my travels. I bought the least expensive plane tickets - the ones with a stop in Houston (a thousand miles out of the way) in the middle of the night. I rented cars from the low cost places where they often ran out of the economy model I reserved. So they bumped me up to something huge like a Yukon which I had to fit into the tiny parking spot at the cheap hotel, where the shampoo comes in a paper envelope.

Then I started hanging out with Clyde and realized, and I said this to my co-worker, that it's easy to go to Hong Kong. All you have to do is buy a ticket and go.

The world is so small now. You can go anywhere. All it takes is money. Then again, my perspective may be that of a relatively financially well off old white man. My dental hygienist, Chris, who I also saw this week (my teeth are fine thank you) is young, I would guess in his 20s. He went on a "once in a lifetime" trip to Japan last spring. Chris is still paying off the credit cards he maxed out to go and he says he won't be going anywhere again for a while.

I remember travel in my 20s. I never saved up to go anywhere. All of it went on credit cards. I never stayed in hotels, always with friends or relatives. Or friends of friends or relatives. I slept on a dining room floor on my first visit to San Francisco. I got around on BART and the public bus, not in a rental car. I hung out with lots of other young people, including some sailors I met who were on leave. It's not what it sounds like, but I did become acquainted with someone under that dining room table.

Anyway, back to the present. Clyde and I put travel at the top of our priorities. We live in a modest home. We drive ordinary cars. We have no debt except a small mortgage, so we can afford two big trips a year and a couple of small ones.

We do get around. But jet setters? I guess I've been called worse.

And with Clyde, I no longer stay in cheap hotels. He has years of corporate travel under his belt with all the benefits. So we rarely stay anywhere but the Marriott. I love the Marriott with its all you can eat breakfast buffets and wonderful coffee. Even in the most humid cities (Hong Kong, Rio), our room is chilly with air conditioning.

That's how grownups travel.

My poor co-worker just bought a house in Arvada. As Clyde and I watch YouTube videos about Japan in order to make plans for our trip, he's probably scraping together his next house payment and college tuition for the kids.

It was fun all those years ago, but I prefer traveling in my 50s with Clyde to crashing under furniture even with, um, temporary travel acquaintences.


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You Will Find Me on the Space-Time Continuum

I am writing curriculum which will be used by employees in India. It's a challenging project which, among other things, requires a degree of cultural sensitivity. The person I'm working with on this project is based in New Jersey. That is also a different culture.

Meanwhile, I have a weekly conference call with people in Melbourne (Australia), Montreal, and Boston. This call is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. Australian time (AU Eastern), which is 4:00 p.m. U.S. Eastern Time, and for me in the Rocky Mountain region, 2:00 p.m. Oh yes, in Australia, it's the next day. So my meeting is Thursday but the same meeting in Melbourne is on Friday. Just to keep it interesting, last week, while not fully paying attention to this world-wide conference call, I was texting Clyde who was in Tel Aviv, Israel.

It's hard to be centered when you have to spend your day zipping (virtually) around the world and back again. Keeping track of the time zones alone is dizzying.

Even when I don't leave metro Denver, I'm conscious of times and places which exist in exhausting 24 hour simultaneousness.

I doubt if even Albert Einstein could map my existence on the space-time continuum without really getting confused. Did he ever have a conference call with someone who is already living in tomorrow morning?

No wonder people feel lost these days.

I have coworkers in Tempe, Arizona. Twice a year, I have to change my clocks forward or backward for daylight savings time, while in Arizona, the time stays the same. For this reason, scheduling a phone meeting with someone in Arizona is extra tricky.

I can barely sleep at night knowing that my curriculum might be used on the other side of the world at that very minute.

If it can't be done on the phone, I can physically be almost anywhere on Earth in less than 24 hours.  As a matter of fact, Clyde and I will be visiting Rio de Janeiro, Brazil this month. It's quite a contrast from people who 300 years ago could easily go their whole lives without leaving a 10 mile radius of where they were born. You could send a letter to, say, India, but it would take months to get there.

Just to confuse things more, usually when I travel to another continent, like Europe or Asia, I have to adjust to opposing time zones. Day at home is usually night where I'm going and vice-versa. But going to Brazil doesn't present much more of a time change than travelling to the U.S. east coast. It's still confusing, however, because the seasons are opposite. While we're cooling down here, their summer is heating up. I may not have jet lag in Rio, but I won't know what month it is.

I know. This fits into the category of "first world problems." Everyone should have to suffer my trials.

It's really quite amazing when you think about it. Technology opens our world in many ways. What a remarkable time we live in. But I can't help but think that maybe 300 years ago, people slept a little better.

Postblog From Asia: A BillsWeek List

I’m feeling pretty well traveled and rather well versed about what’s going on in Asia. This after spending a few days in Hong Kong, a half hour looking at Taiwan from 30,000 feet, and three hours sitting in the United Airlines passenger lounge of Narita International Airport nibbling chicken nuggets and drinking diet coke (so technically I can say I’ve been to Tokyo). Regarding the political situation or economics, I’m happy to give my lengthy opinion to anyone who asks even out of the most restrained or merely courteous interest.  

In this very special edition of BillsWeek, I offer some observations from a recent trip I took with Clyde, my globe-trekking boyfriend:

• Hong Kong has great Italian food. We also ate Spanish and Thai food. I’m happy to report that we turned our noses up at every McDonalds we passed, though we did succumb to a couple of Starbucks along the way.
• If you are lounging by the hotel pool and haven’t taken your shoes off before putting them up on the chair, an attendant will appear from nowhere and very politely insist that you put a towel under your feet.
• You see a lot of white men with younger Asian women but never Asian women with younger white men. The women, however, always seem to be paying.
• There are Starbucks and 7-Elevens everywhere – unless you really want one. Then they are nowhere to be found. Just like home.
• I was worried about Americans being boorish slobs in Hong Kong. I’m happy to report that Australians are worse. I’m sure they never take their shoes off by the pool.
• Hong Kong is serious about this bird flu stuff. If you cough or sneeze at the airport, you may be approached by a health official to have your temperature checked. I don’t know what happens to you if you have a fever but I wonder if you are whisked away never to be heard from again. irport, you may be approached by a health official to have your temperature checked. They are ser
• Netflix is not available in Asia.
• Vapid skinny women are the same everywhere.
• The Today Show on Australian TV is a little less stupid than the American version. But the male host seems to be on every program at all times of day. Or is it just that all the male hosts look the same? And by the way, is it a little odd to be getting Australian TV in Hong Kong? I usually turned the channel to CNN.
• Hong Kong has more malls than anyplace I’ve ever seen, and they are all underground on the way to the subway. Clyde calls them mall traps.
• As at home, mid-November finds exclusive high priced stores and little street markets alike gearing up for Christmas with tacky red and white do-dads and depictions of snow.
• Victoria Harbour smells just like the waterfronts in New York, San Diego, San Francisco, Baltimore, and anyplace else with access to the ocean.
• I know I’m not very sophisticated, but I like my meat butchered, wrapped in plastic, and not in any way, shape, or form resembling the living thing it once was.
• And by the way, the Boeing 787 non-stop flight home was awesome! It was great to touch down in Denver approximately four hours before we left Tokyo.

So anyway, if you have any questions for me, be sure to ask. I’m more than happy to share my expertise. And by the way, sumo wrestling was on TV in the Tokyo airport, so there was more than just chicken nuggets to be had there.

Globe-Trotting Boyfriend Inspires World Travel

I could follow my boyfriend to the ends of the earth.

And that's not just passionate hyperbole.

Clyde is actually going to China, Thailand, Viet Nam, and Qatar in the next few months for his job.

When he called me last week from Beijing, it blew my mind to think we were as far away from each other as it is possible to be while still on this planet. As a genetic Nebraskan, naturally, I wanted to know what the weather was like over in China and what he had been eating. In case you're wondering, the weather was cold, and as for food, I was sorry I asked. Clyde's vivid descriptions of the crunchy insects and wriggling sea creatures for sale on Beijing streets left me a little queasy.

Nausea not withstanding, as Clyde's significant other with available PTO, I am in the enviable position of tagging along occasionally. So next month, I'll be accompanying him to another part of China, Hong Kong.

It's been 10 years since I stepped outside of the United States. Usually, my universe exists between central Denver and suburban Highlands Ranch where I work. I go to California once or twice a year and occasionally venture into the foreign lands of Wyoming and Nebraska.

Clyde says Hong Kong is a good first place to visit in Asia. The city-state welcomes people from the west and signs are often in English so you can get around with less chance of getting lost.

I am excited about my first trip to Asia, but I'm a little nervous too. Clyde assures me there will be plenty to eat that doesn't wiggle on the way down. But what clothes should I wear? I'll probably want to avoid the usual American outfit of short-shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops. What will it cost to use my iPhone? What about jet-lag? What if the Chinese don't like me?

This is an incredible opportunity to see a distant place with someone who's already familiar with it. In return, I have offered to sweep Clyde away for a weekend in Nebraska. Can you believe he's never been there?

Falling Palms: Autumn in Southern California

There were more people than seats in the tiny little boarding area. I was torn between sitting on the floor or walking around with my heavy carry-on bag. It would surely be more comfortable to sit, but I'd be on a plane for two hours and I thought I should keep off my butt as much as possible.

When the usual boarding rituals finally commenced, I waited anxiously to be allowed on the plane. But first the disabled could board. Then families with small children. Then special club members and people assigned to the seats with extra leg room. I wasn’t in any of these groups. Then the back five rows could board. Then the back 10, and so on.

As people shuffled forward, the gate agent got on the PA system and announced that the flight was overbooked. They needed a volunteer to be bumped to a later flight. In exchange, the volunteer would receive a voucher for a free flight in the future.

 I was so tired, all I wanted to do was get home. Traveling is such a hassle and the less time spent at the airport, the better.

The agent made another announcement: still looking for a volunteer to get bumped. Won't someone please come forward?

I couldn't believe no one wanted that free flight. I suppose everyone was just as tired as I was. On the third request for a volunteer, I heaved myself and my carry-on off the floor and made my way through the gathered passengers. I told the agent that, yes, I would volunteer to get bumped.

Cut to several months later. It occurs to me that I still have the voucher and it will expire after one year if I don't use it. I feel like I have to use it on something special -- not the places I usually fly, which would be San Diego and - well, just San Diego. Frontier's international destinations don't interest me. No other destinations excite me. I suppose I could get worked up about going to Florida to visit Disney World and the retro-futuristic Epcot Center. Key West might be fun, but everyone in the advertising is so thin and hairless, I wouldn't fit in. New Orleans is fun, although I don't have many sober memories of it. Forget New York - I'm still not over having to live there in the 80s.

I've been lucky to be able to travel through the years. I've watched a wall of fog envelope San Francisco. I've stood on a sandbar in the Gulf of Mexico with a school of little fish encircling my ankles. I've leaned over the edge of a pier, Pacific storm waves soaking my legs high above the normal waterline as dolphins and pelicans just yards away feasted on the stuff stirred up by the surf. I've been totally confused by driving on the left side while coming to a roundabout in the UK. I smelled the breath of a humpback whale off the coast of Cape Cod. Last year I went to a retreat in West Virginia - Appalachia in the autumn.

I've been around. I once even took a cruise off the coast of Nebraska - a steamboat on the Missouri River. We went from Brownville down to the nuclear power plant and turned around.

Is there any place that I would like to see but haven't? Not really. My favorite vacations are the ones where I do a lot of beach walking and sitting and relaxing. Guess I'll go to San Diego again - this will be twice in one year.

Southern California in the autumn. Doesn't conjure images of falling leaves and crisp chilly mornings. But to be fair, those big palms do fall off the trees. You could get killed if you happened to be under one as it lands. I will take my chances.  Meanwhile, the voucher was generous and I am, this time, able to upgrade to the special seating with extra leg room. Looks like I’ll be among the first to board this time.

Organizer Has Trouble Not Planning Summer Vacation

Among my strengths are organization and planning. From managing large project teams at work to hosting a huge holiday meal for 25 people in my little condo, I meet many challenges by writing it down first, anticipating every possible scenario, and following a plan.

Most summers when I have time off, I stay at home. I figure since many people come to Colorado for their vacations, why would I want to leave? I plan to go to the mountains, enjoy local cultural attractions, and catch up on home projects. Usually, however, I end up sleeping the days away, or watching movie after movie after movie without doing any of those other things. A day or two before going back to work, I realize I haven’t done one thing I thought I would do. Rest is all well and good, and I save money by staying at home, but I think this year I should do something more adventurous – something that really is a vacation from my routine.

Regular readers know that my big vacation every year is a winter trip to San Diego. For over a decade, I’ve escaped the cold, barren landscape of Colorado February for California’s spring-like weather and sunny beaches.

This year, Colorado was so cold and brown, and California was so green and warm, I almost didn’t come home.

The question is, what should I do this summer?

I’ve always had a fantasy about just getting in the car and driving. No destination. Just see where the road takes me.

But naturally, I’ve never actually done this. What if I get someplace and can’t find a hotel room? Reservations must be made ahead of time, just to be safe. What if I get to the middle of nowhere and run out of gas? When you’ve traveled in Wyoming as much as I have, you know that’s not such an unlikely possibility.

When I was a kid, my family got into the RV and headed for the Grand Canyon. It was a long, hot drive. My mom required us to drink one pop an hour (the only time she ever did that) so we wouldn’t dehydrate. My dad was sure we’d be able to find a campground near the national park without any problem.

He was wrong. To stay anywhere near the Grand Canyon in the middle of the summer, you have to make reservations months ahead. After driving for days on end, we parked at an overlook, peered into the canyon for a few minutes, and turned around to go home.

You really can’t appreciate the grandeur of such a place in less than a half hour.

The lesson: plan ahead.

When I was young, I loved to travel spontaneously. I once wandered around England in a rented car with no idea about where I was going. But somewhere along the line, I lost my desire to explore. The last time I was adventurous out on the road was probably in 2003 when my friend Brian talked me into leaving the interstate to visit Ole’s Big Game Lounge in Paxton, Nebraska.

So this year, on June 12, I’m going to get into the car and start driving. I will not go to California. Nor will I go to Wyoming. There are a few other places I probably won’t go, like Texas, but other than that, who knows where I might end up?

The test until then is to avoid planning. Stay tuned to BillsWeek for updates on this challenging situation.