Posts Tagged ‘travel’

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How To Be A Traveling Freelance Writer

February 23rd, 2012

Many people have asked me whether it’s difficult to work and travel all the time like I do, and my answer is always the same: You just have to discipline yourself and work wherever you are! After having this conversation yet again yesterday, I decided to make it easier for everyone to visualize the process, by chronicling a typical morning for me.

— WAKE UP! … at 11 a.m. (after nodding off sometime around 6 in the morning, having dropped Tylenol PM in desperation around 4:30. Circadian biorhythms that do not coincide with the time zone where one is — which, today, is Buenos Aires — are among the drawbacks of constant movement).

— Teeth/ face/ hair/ contacts.

— Change from sleeping lululemon yoga pants into … waking lululemon yoga pants (bought at the source: Vancouver!).

— (Today I’m gonna be SO PRODUCTIVE!)

— Check Facebook. Giggle. Frown. “Like” things. Make pithy comments. Check Wonkette, check HuffPo. Cluck disapprovingly at story about National Enquirer running a cover photo of Whitney Houston in her coffin, while simultaneously clicking all the various links I need to click in order to view said photo. (She looked great.) Read my horoscope. (Today I’m gonna KILL IT!)

— Go downstairs, chat with friend in whose house I am currently crashing (a fabulous, internationally acclaimed artist), who is busy sewing bits of paper together. We discuss current events. We discuss our day ahead. (Both of us: Gonna PRODUCE! Great stuff! All day!)

— I head out. Go directly to cafe suggested by friend. Discover too late that it is less of a cafe, and more of a fabulous artisan chocalatier with a very limited menu. (Danger!) Realize I should leave immediately because really good chocolate is one of my Kryptonites; however, decide that I am obligated to stay because: a) I don’t want to disappoint my friend and b) they already saw me walk in and I can’t just leave because that would be rude and c) I will be so busy KILLING IT today with all my productivity that I won’t have the time nor the mental energy to peruse the vast glass counter filled with truffles and bonbons and all sorts of delectable hand-crafted chocolate treats and delights in hundreds of shapes and sizes and flavors and varieties.

— Look around for a work space. The place looks like a Victorian romance novel threw up all over it: shades of pink and cream, prim marble-topped tables and crystal waterfall light fixtures and lampshades smothered in silk roses, elaborate spinning tabletop carousels, and fussy quilted reproduction Louis XIV chairs and settees and ottomans — upholstered either in Pepto pink velvet or pink-and-white toile. Beribboned carousel ponies and flowered teacups are painted on the windows. Along the front window are four barber’s chairs with violent pink-and-white stripes lined up along a long counter, and it is here where I sit and pull out my iPad and prepare for my day ahead … which? Is gonna be fabulous. And productive.

— Examine limited menu. Order eggs Benedict and coffee.

— Check Facey again. Update my status.

— Time to KILL IT. Open “Notes” to see my to-do list. The “Note” on top is not my to-do list for today, however, but a list of books I’ve been interested in reading. Oooh! Remember I have no unread books on my iPad. This is bad, terrible in fact, for someone who travels a lot, even though I’m stationary at the moment, but HEY I will be traveling again in a few days, and I will require books!

— Spend four minutes on iBooks downloading two books (categories: Spirituality and Horror), then spent the next 26 minutes browsing the online bookstore.

— My breakfast arrives sometime in this time span. Either there has been a gross breakdown in translation (possible), or Argentines interpret eggs Benedict as a single fried egg on top of sweet French toast alongside four wet arugula leaves (also possible). Coffee is good though.

— Time to kill it! Open document from client. Realize I need a more advanced spreadsheet-editing app than the one I have on my Pad, if I want to complete my work as efficiently as possible. Which of course I do, as I am productivity machine.

— Search online through several iPad forums to research the best app for what I need. (I have to be diligent about this! I can’t just pick any one! My productivity is on the line here!) Learn that what I want is Quickoffice and that it is $10. A bargain! Click link in forum which takes me to Quickoffice web site. The site says the app is now $15. Still reasonable! Click download link and am taken to App Store where it is now $20. WTF. Click Buy. With this new technology I can WORK AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT.

— While app is downloading, check Facey. Note who “liked” my status. Note who has posted since I updated my status but did not “like” it.

— Quickoffice app has downloaded. Still checking Facey. Read a couple of news articles. Read the comments below the articles. Roll eyes at moron commenters while mentally composing the indignant responses I would post if my comments weren’t visible to my friends on Facey.

— Sneak a glance behind me, at chocolate counter. Look back down at Pad. Look at counter. Look at Pad. Look at counter. Pad. Counter.

— I need distractions! Go to YouTube. Watch old ESPN commercial with Drew Brees. Giggle. Love New Orleans. Watch the NYC Soul Train Flash Mob tribute to Don Cornelius. Smile! Love New York.

— Decide I want a flash mob doing the Electric Slide and a Soul Train line at MY funeral. Ponder whether I should write my wishes down and have them notarized and delivered to next of kin, otherwise I might have a basic garden-variety funeral with lots of crying and solemnity, which would be unacceptable. Ponder death, meaning of life, importance of ritual. Look over at chocolate counter again.

— I need distractions! Go back to Facey. Someone has posted the new Gorillaz track featuring James Murphy and Andre3000. Go to SoundCloud. Do I want the SoundCloud iPad app? Well, yeah! Download.

— Look at chocolate counter again. Notice that, as per Argentine custom, no server has acknowledged or approached me in the past hour to remove my dishes or find out if I want more coffee, which I do. Become annoyed. Drum fingers. Look at chocolate counter. Ooh, are those …? No. No!

— I need distractions. Check on progress of SoundCloud download. Done! Listen to new Gorillaz song. So good. Post it on Facey.

— Decide the waitress has forgotten me entirely and that I must therefore approach the counter. Instead of ordering another coffee as planned, find myself ordering box of assorted truffles. Danger! In panic, blurt out that I would like to pay my check and leave. Fork over an inordinate amount of pesos for a bad breakfast, good coffee, and what I am assuming are great chocolates. Snatch little gilt box from saleswoman after admitting they are not a gift — yes lady, you heard me correctly, they’re for ME — and scurry from cafe/chocolatier.

— Decide everything went to hell today due to my initial bad decision to work in the wrong type of cafe, and that I must now go out in this beautiful day, with the sun shining and birds chirping frantically, to find the correct type of cafe for my work output and well-being, one with healthy salads and bubbly water and no distractions. It is only 2:30 p.m.! Plenty of time to be productive today.

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Posted in Argentina, Buenos Aires, Pontifications, Travels

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Ode to an Ex-Stranger

April 1st, 2011

When traveling alone, it makes sense to keep up one’s guard — to avoid interacting as freely with strangers as one might do when one is with companions, or in familiar surroundings. This is especially true for a woman traveling solo. Best to evade situations that can bring unwelcome attention or uninvited company.

But meeting people is such a significant element of travel. A person who becomes too guarded can miss out on valuable connections with others — connections that not only enrich the place where you are visiting, but can change your perception, add to your knowledge, leave a lasting impact on your character.

Getting to know the locals, of course, fosters a better understanding of where you are visiting. Equally valuable are fellow travelers who find themselves in the same place and time as you. Through universal human experiences — love, loss, death, humility, gratitude, hopefulness — we find common ground with others, even those who may have had very different backgrounds and life stories than ours. This can nurture the beginning of a good friendship, maybe a great one.

Some places seem to attract people worth knowing. I think Zipolite is one of them. Its locals are warm and open, its beach is magical, and interesting people seem to converge here as a result. When combined, these are great catalysts for making it safe to drop one’s guard; for making it okay, or better, to let oneself become disarmed by a stranger with a disarming smile.

It’s easy to get caught up in the scenery while traveling, and far more difficult to take that leap and make a good friend. But, oh, it’s absolutely worth it.

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Posted in Pontifications, Zipolite

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So Many Strange Places I’d Like To Be

November 2nd, 2010

It’s my first foray back into travel blogging after an extended absence due to some personal shiz, and I hope you’ll indulge me in a bit of navel gazing, Internets, before we return to our regular routine of pictures and commentary about random places.

Lately I’ve been contemplating the nature of my nomadic lifestyle and the psychology of the rootless existence I’ve been living these past few years. When my Dad died last month, I needed to be around family and stay for a while in the area where I grew up — a touchstone of sorts after losing a major anchor in my life. For as long as I can remember, I’d wanted to see the world, and for most of my adulthood this desire took a backseat to other priorities. When circumstances liberated me from those priorities (not to mention most of my material possessions) I had the opportunity to travel, and I took it. That was four and a half years ago, and since then I have not had the desire nor the inclination to settle back down somewhere. I’ve been adhering to the philosophy that I should follow my gut instincts no matter how bizarre they might seem to myself or others, and my gut has been telling me to keep moving.

Today I flew from Vancouver to San Francisco. As the plane passed over spectacular mountain peaks and valleys, a song popped into my head that sometimes does when I travel. It’s a song I first heard many, many (many many many) years ago, sung by Ernie on Sesame Street, and I loved it then and still do. But for some reason, today, just thinking about it made me teary. Okay, more than teary. Here’s the video with the lyrics:

I’d Like To Visit The Moon

Well I’d like to visit the moon,
on a rocketship high in the air.
Yes, I’d like to visit the moon,
but I don’t think I’d like to live there.
Though I’d like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon,
I don’t want to live on the moon.

I’d like to travel under the sea,
I could meet all the fish everywhere
Yes, I’d travel under the sea,
But I don’t think I’d like to live there.
I might stay for a day there if I had my wish
But there’s not much to do when your friends are all fish,
and an oyster and clam aren’t real family.
I don’t want to live in the sea.

I’d like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar,
go back in time and meet a dinosaur
There’s so many strange places I’d like to be,
but none of them permanently.

So if I should visit the moon,
I would dance on a moonbeam and then
I will make a wish on a star
and I’ll wish I was home once again.

Though I’d like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go,
I’ll be coming home soon
Cause I don’t want to live on the moon.
No, I don’t want to live on the moon.

I have no idea how I should interpret this seemingly out-of-nowhere, weird emotional reaction to this song, but I know I should pay attention.
All will be revealed.

“There’s so many strange places I’d like to be, but none of them permanently …”

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Posted in Pontifications

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A Traveler’s Farewell

September 16th, 2010

I haven’t posted anything here for more than a month, due to a really jarring loss in my family and in my life: that of my father, Jules Loh.

For those of you who don’t know him, this Associated Press obituary will tell you quite a bit about Dad and his remarkable life. It’s a lovely article that focuses on my dad’s influence in his field of journalism. I am privileged to have had his lifelong influence as a father.

Growing up, I thought Dad had the coolest job in the world, traveling nonstop and writing colorful prose about what he found. It didn’t occur to me to dislike his frequent absences from home, because he always came back with interesting stories, artifacts and influences from the places he’d seen and the people he’d met. And even though he’d hint about long, decidedly non-glamorous hours spent in airports, on planes, driving rental cars and staying in hotels  — that down side of constant travel didn’t seem all that bad to me, and I guess it never has.

Dad said you could often figure out everything you needed to know about a person or place simply by noticing the details. His favorite example of this was a sign he saw once in a North Dakota hotel lobby: DON’T GUT YOUR DEER IN THE BATHTUB.

My resulting over-attention to detail has probably made me too observant for my own good at times, but when faced with strangers in a strange land, it has never failed me.

That’s just one of the countless things he’s taught me, and it has helped me so much in my life. I’m going to miss him always.

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A Little Bit of London/ African Arrival

June 18th, 2010

I had a great two days in London prior to jetting out early this morning; wish I could have stayed a bit longer since I didn’t get to do all the touristy sightseeing stuff I craved. I do have a few days when I get back and won’t have to run around getting things I need for Africa, which is how I spent the majority of the past two days in London.

I got to see Macbeth at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre fresh off my flight, and felt genuinely thrilled to be there after having studied/ read about the Globe all these years. It wasn’t ideal having my big overstuffed backpack and daypack with me in the narrow 17th-century bench seating as I did, but the gorgeous sunny day and amazing performances, and the smoking hotness of the actor who played Macbeth, and the lovely Pimm’s lemonade to which my lovely English friend Dani introduced me, countered the awkwardness of lugging five weeks’ worth of backpacking around the historic and crowded theatre. Afterwards we did a bit of walking around the Millennium Bridge area; I spotted the Gherkin Building which I’ve only seen in pictures and think is incredibly cool; and experienced my first English pub (Swiss Cottage Pub, across from my friend Serena’s flat where I stayed), ate my first real English pub food (bangers and mash), and caught up with some awesome friends over Samuel Smith beers.

The next day found me strangely still un-jet-lagged and ready to hit sunny London again. It involved lots of shopping around Oxford Street where Dani and I stumbled on an amazing sale at Selfridge’s and I bought clothes and shoes very much for after Africa. Picked up other odds and ends we needed … mosquito nets, water purification tablets and things of that nature … before heading out to meet up with Nick, a cool Londoner that Dani and I had met in Thailand a couple of years ago. More beers, more Pimm’s, more English pub food and some World Cup action, France vs. Mexico (olé!). Got back to Serena’s, did a final packing and a little sleep before heading out early in the morning for the airport.

Now we’re on Kenya Airways about to land in Nairobi and transfer flights to Entebbe, Uganda. More later, gotta turn off electronic devices.

In the Jomo Kenyatta Airport, Nairobi
This is a typical hot and humid developing-nation airport with one long corridor along which all the gates are lined up; in between them are duty-free shops with all the foreign chocolates and perfumes and liquor and cigarettes; tiny bookstores selling Lonely Planet guides and Internet access for $4 per 25-minute session; small canteens selling sandwiches, meat pies, chips, beer, soda and bottled water; souvenir shops filled with kente cloth garments, native jewelry, and wood carvings of African animals and tribal busts.

The people milling around, bunched along the corridor outside their gates in plastic chairs or (more commonly) on the floor, are a true mix of cultures, with more Westerners than I had predicted there would be. Most of them seem to be with volunteer or church groups, and all ages and a lot of nationalities appear to be represented. There are tons of adorable babies and children of all races, and lots of travelers meeting and chatting over beers and communal electrical outlets. It’s a very congenial place. English has been spoken quite fluently in the airport, but I’m predicting that will change once we hit Uganda.

I have to say the Kenyan people as a whole are a damn good-looking bunch — really dramatic bone structure, gorgeous smooth dark skin, dazzling smiles which they flash often. In the planes and airport they’ve blasted upbeat African music and the Kenya Airways crew are all wearing soccer-ball shirts in celebration of the World Cup being played right now in South Africa (though Kenya doesn’t have a team). The pilots give World Cup game updates during the flights. All in all I am very much liking this vibe.

Dani, Serena and I are now on a quick hop to Entebbe, Uganda where we will find accommodations after we land at midnight … our trip-planning skills have been, to put it mildly, wanting. (Two of our three flights today involved the airline staff paging us from the gate to warn us to get our asses on the plane or be left behind.) My travel snafus so far include being unable to find a camera cord for my iPad in both California and London, so I’m not sure how many pictures, if any, I’ll be able to post from the road. And I just re-injured a nasty back muscle pull that I developed last week … it had almost fully healed when I strained it again while giving the bathroom door a firm push on the middle flight from Paris to Nairobi. I heard a soft clunk before I felt a sharp, stabbing pain and now I’m back to square one with it. Not the type of injury one wants to have when one is lugging a heavy backpack and daypack around a foreign continent … but I’ve got no choice but to soldier on, riding on Tylenol and yoga stretches. Between my back injury and Serena’s chronic headache problem we’re gonna be like two cranky old ladies hobbling along and bitching about our aches and pains. I really hope we find a place tonight with a decent mattress because my “sleep anywhere” superpower is sure to be severely tested.

On to Uganda …

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So Long, U.S.A.

June 15th, 2010

… for now, anyway. I leave tomorrow for a quick hop to London and then Uganda. I’ve been living the mantra “be here now” which is why I’m this unprepared for my trip … too much basking in California sun and not enough indoor preparation. But. It’ll get done, it always does.

I’m not even thinking too far ahead to Uganda … I have a couple of days in London to look forward to. I’ve been wanting to go to London since I was three years old and my dad read me the stories of A.A. Milne … the original Winnie-the-Pooh, not Disney-the-Pooh but the real deal with clever rhymes and stories. “They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace/ Christopher Robin went down with Alice … ”

That’s tomorrow. Now I’ve gotta pack. I’m about 3/4 of the way there, and took a break to test this WordPress app for my new iPad. I’m going to be leaving the laptop at home and will be Pad-dependent for five weeks (ew, that sounds like a horrible hygiene issue), let’s see how this works.

London, I can’t wait till we meet.

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The Lost Argentine Diaries Part 5: Glacier Photo Edition

June 8th, 2010

A few photos of the glaciers at El Calafate, Argentina. Taken in May 2007. Waayback.

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Posted in Argentina, Photo Galleries

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BOOKED.

May 21st, 2010

I am notorious for being unprepared for major international trips and this one may blow my previous  records out of the water.

I leave in less than a month and have to … first, sort out what vaccinations I will need. I’m going to make an appointment for early next week at the San Francisco Department of Public Health Travel Clinic. From the prices listed online, the shots are much cheaper than in a private travel clinic, and I’ve heard good things about them through word of mouth.

I also have to get a Kenya visa — have to send my passport to the Kenyan consulate in L.A. for that, and I’d do it immediately IF I weren’t waiting on my passport to get back to me from Pennsylvania, where I mailed it last week to get extra visa pages attached because I FILLED THEM ALL UP since 2006. Woop woop! for that, but Boooo! for having to wait on the fed’ral gummint to return my freaking passport. How long is that gonna take?

We’ll see how this all shakes out; it won’t be the first time I’ve cut necessary trip preparations ridiculously close to the deadline and it’s a safe bet it won’t be the last.

BOOKED, though. Yeah. YEAH.

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Today’s Dilemma

May 14th, 2010

There or here?

Far or near?

Stay or go?

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The Lost Argentine Diaries, Part 2

May 7th, 2010

Transporting back into Argentina circa almost-exactly-three-years-ago …

, 2007

I have gravitated toward this international hippie neighborhood in Buenos Aires called San Telmo. It’s a network of old narrow cobblestone streets and ornately scrolled buildings with little terraces everywhere, decadent but still ghetto enough to legitimately call it bohemian.

Today was a national holiday, Argentina’s version of Labor Day, so all businesses were closed and folks were out partying pretty hard. There was a big drumming street party out in the square in San Telmo, with about 20 serious drummers who knew how to play and a huge cluster of people dancing around… they slowly wound their way through the streets and stopped in front of a truly fabulous v. old Gothic cathedral. Starry night, full moon, faded decadence, lots of musicians, artists, tango dancers. It’s what I imagine New Orleans’ French Quarter was like, back in the day, when interesting people could still afford to live there.

Next I go to Patagonia and see some more really, really intensely cool shit. How lucky I am, how lucky I am, how luckeeeeee I ammmmm.


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Posted in Argentina, Buenos Aires, The Vaults, Travels

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