Misadventures Around the World

EUROPE WEEK 4: EAT DRINK DRIVE...UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN (Part 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 22:34:00 +0000

Continued from previous post

Not only have our first few nights in Italy been a whirlwind as we were moving from hotel to hotel and getting lost for hours on end, we were pretty museumed out after Greece, Barcelona and Rome, so we decided that for the rest of our time in Italy, our primary focus would be food and wine. And what better place to start than in Tuscany.

I am no Frances Mayes restoring a 17^th century Tuscan farmhouse, but we got to stay in a 17^th century Tuscan farmhouse, on an olive farm no less! We spent ten days eating, drinking, and relaxing in a tiny village called Loro Ciufenna located south of Florence and east of Siena. Although the owner was not onsite, we were well taken care of by Enzo the groundskeeper, the gentle Italian grandfather we never had (not The Godfather kind). He was there every morning at seven to pick olives with his crew, greeting us with his warm smile. Although Enzo does not speak a lick of English and our command of the Italian language is embarrassing to say the least, we were able to communicate with each other with simple words and hand gestures. We even picked olives with them to make olive oil. Every other morning was spent shopping for fresh foods at the local markets in various nearby towns, such as San Giovanni and Castelfranco which all seem to be medieval towns with a castle. We also ventured further out to other towns like Il Borro (quaint little wine village owned by the Ferragamo family), Siena (one of my favorites), Volterra (where the Twilight royal vampires are from), and San Gigimano (medieval tourist trap).

Florence was for us just another tourist trap with lots of historical sites and museums. We didn’t bother paying the entrance fee to see Michelangelo’s David at the Accademia. When we came across the famous Duomo (cathedral), possibly the 100^th I’ve seen, I muttered, “Jesus Christ, another god damned duomo.” With his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, Justin asked, “Why you have not spontaneously combusted when stepping foot in a cathedral is beyond me.” I responded, “Well if Catholic priests can have their way with altar boys, then I can surely say ‘Jesus Christ’ once in a while.”

What is most unforgettable about Tuscany is the cuisine, which is all about fresh local ingredients and surprisingly friendly to vegetarians. Our favorites are ribollitta (Tuscan bean soup drizzled with olive oil) and pici (thick spaghetti with spicy tomato sauce), and of course gelato and pana cotta for dessert.

Italians drink caffe (coffee) like water. Consuming at least one to three a day, we’ve never had so much coffee in our lives. Choosing from caffe (espresso), caffe macchiato (with hot milk), macchiato freddo (with cold milk), caffe Americano (with hot water), latte (milk stained with coffee), and cappuccino (my favorite - but only to be had in the morning), coffee options seem endless. The coffee here is so rich, even the ones at gas stations taste better than Starbucks. Customers usually stand at the counter, drink their coffee and leave. Some cafes have two separate prices, one for sitting down at a table and one for drinking at the counter which is usually 1 € cheaper. And the cioccolato caldo (hot chocolate) is to die for – so rich and creamy like melted liquid chocolate! As for water, even though tap water in Italy is safe to drink, everyone only drinks bottled water (with or without “gas”). Restaurants don’t even serve tap water. In fact, Italy boasts the highest consumption of bottled water. Then there’s the vino. When wine tasting in Chianti, we learned that Chianti wines are made with at least 80% Sangiovese grapes to be considered Chianti Classico which has an emblem of a black rooster on the bottle. In Italy, drinking wine is also meant to accompany a meal, rather than on its own. My favorite is vin santo – amber color dessert wine as a digestif at the end of a meal.

Smoking is quite a prevalent hobby here; everyone bloody smokes! While airports have smoking lounges, people still smoke in non-smoking areas at restaurants. We even tinkered with the idea of taking up smoking while in Italy, but thank goodness it was just temporary insanity. Arrivederci!

EUROPE WEEK 4: EAT DRINK DRIVE...UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 17:59:00 +0000

Buon giorno! I am definitely having a travel chick lit moment since our arrival in Italy and dragging Justin down with me. We left Barcelona and flew to Napoli (Naples), picked up our rental car and stayed for one night just to have pizza where it originated. We were told by our B&B host to try both the Pizzeria Da Michele for dinner (the original L'Antica Pizzeria Da Michele was made famous by Elizabeth Gilbert / Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love) and Pizzeria Di Matteo for lunch. You have to get your own pie and eat with a knife and fork, because it is too sizzling hot and oozing with sauce and cheese to eat with your hands. The marinara (tomato and garlic but no cheese) and margherita (tomato, cheese, basil) pizzas were not only just 3-4 € each, but it was also hands down the most delizioso pizza we have ever tasted in our lives. Other than the pizza, we also genuinely enjoyed Naples itself as a very real and old city, not touristy like Rome and Venice. Just watch out for your valuables and don’t leave anything visible in the car.

We made our way north from Naples to Pompeii, the fascinating ancient Roman city destroyed by Vesuvius volcano in 79 AD and frozen in time for visitors to see what life was like. Then we drove along the spectacularly beautiful and spectacularly nausea-inducing windy road on the Amalfi Coast, touted as the most scenic coastal drive in all of Europe. Although it was pretty dead this time of year, we spent the night anyway at the old but grand Hotel Lloyd’s Baia and woke up to the sounds of the sea. We left Amalfi Coast to our next stop, Roma (Rome) the capital where we feasted our eyes on Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel at the Vatican Museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, Piazza Navona, Fontana di Trevi, and blah blah blah. (Oh who the f*ck cares? I am not going to pretend I am some artsy fartsy type who can distinguish between a Botticelli and a Raphael or a Doric and an Ionic column – memories of Art History 201 give me a headache.) Everyone says you need a week in Rome to see everything, but we cruised through it in one day and realized we have had enough sightseeing. After two nights at the Sheraton Golf Resort where Justin used his points for a room and expired Platinum status to get upgraded to a suite, we continued driving.

And driving we did. These Italians zip around the windy roads in their little Ford Fiestas like they’re driving a Ferrari; either that or they are auditioning for a guest spot on Top Gear. We learned that stop signs actually mean “go,” because when we obey the law and brake at a stop sign, cars behind us drive around to pass us. We don’t understand what the rush is! How can the same Italians who live by la dolce vita be in such a rush when they drive? My guess is to get to their five hour dinner sooner.

But do you know what is even harder than driving in Italy? Navigating in Italy. I was never good with directions or maps and lack an internal compass that most people seem to be born with, but even Justin admits finding our way around is quite a Herculean feat. This is coming from someone who can look at where the sun is shining and tell in 0.3 seconds that we are headed northeast which means we are going the wrong way, while I am still thinking out loud, “so the sun rises from the east and it is now slightly above our heads…” Italian road signs do not say “north” or “south” but only city names like Roma and Firenze. This means you have to know the geography of where these cities are (in Italian) and determine which direction you need to go – easy to do when it is just Rome and Florence, but usually it is a list of seven different obscure towns that are so hard to find on the map. The tricky and nail-biting part is to find it in two seconds before the road splits, something I have failed time and time again, resulting in much arguing and paying too many unnecessary tolls, not to mention wasting very expensive gas (at 1.62 € a liter converts to over $9 / gallon). C’est la vie! (Wait, wrong country.)

To be continued…

EUROPE WEEK 3: JUSTIN EVAN BARCELONA

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 21:03:00 +0000

We made our way from Athens to Barcelona for a one-week stay with Justin's cousin Maushu from India, her husband Shaan and two cute kids Niva and Akash who had just gone to Seville and Madrid. Even though it rained on and off the entire week, we had a lovely time exploring the city with our family and enjoying its ubiquitous Gothic architecture. You better brush up on your espanol before arriving because most Barcelonians do not speak English, only Catalan and Spanish and pronounce "s" with a lisp; meanwhile, Justin's high school espanol is mucho sucko. Things generally start late, i.e., lunch no earlier than 2 pm with a siesta from 2 – 5, then businesses open back up again.

We checked off most of the obligatory tourist sites, such as La Sagrada Familia ("The Sacred Family" cathedral by the famous Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi and the most visited sight in Spain). Even though Gaudi started work in 1884, the cathedral is only 60% complete today. Taking a tour inside the church and museum is well worth the steep 12.50 € entrance fee. Another famous site Gaudi designed was Park Guell which had the house he lived in as well as two Hansel and Gretel gingerbread houses. We cruised through the Mercat De La Boqueria, market filled with a cornucopia of local produce, fresh fruits, cheeses, pastries, and confectioneries, and lunched at the seafood bar there while doing our best to avoid the hanging meats. The Gothic Quarter (center of the old city), Las Ramblas (kitschy market with street performers) and the Picasso Museum (biggest collection – free every first Sunday of the month) were also checked off on our itinerary. And not to mention the tapas, paella, sangria, and cava! (I also learned that tapas originated in the olden days when bar owners put a piece of bread over a glass of wine to prevent flies from flying in. Then they added olives or nuts - salty things - so customers would drink more. And now it has turned into a cuisine all its own!)

But the most memorable experience in Barcelona was witnessing a pickpocket incident on the subway in front of our very eyes. A bald man in his 30s and a blue hooded sweatshirt was shoving and yelling at a tourist couple for no reason. Then right before the doors closed, he jumped off the train and threw a wallet on the ground. The couple realized it was their wallet with all their money missing. Another passenger told them she saw a lady take his wallet while the bald man was distracting them. We knew pickpocketing is rather prevalent in Barcelona, surely a side effect of Spain having the highest rate of unemployment in the EU, but we never thought we would actually see it in action. We felt horrible for the couple, and it made us ever more cautious for the rest of our time in Europe and made the kids not want to take the metro again. When I asked Justin how we can become less of a target, he said, “I don’t know about you, but all I have to do is walk by myself, away from all of you.” That son of a bitch! But he is right – he can definitely pass for anything from a Spaniard to Italian, while the rest of us scream foreign tourists, complete with backpacks and cameras and “Rob me” practically tattooed on our foreheads. That night we watched a bunch of youtube videos of reformed pickpocket artists demonstrating how easy it is to steal your wallet, watch, and even your tie while talking to you!

After spending a week in Barcelona, we were glad that a recent job prospect fell through as it would have required us to move there. Nice place to visit (perhaps just once more when I am 60 to see how far along the construction goes at La Sagrada Familia), but definitely not to live.

Adios amigos! We are off to Italy!

RV DAY 65: MOTORCYCLE DIARIES

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 08:00:00 +0000

When a normal person makes an impulse purchase, it is usually in the form of something small like a snow globe or a suede skirt. Well, since we’re anything but normal, our two impulse buys this year were not so small – one was our RV Margaritaville and the other, a beautiful 2006 BMW 650GS motorcycle to complement the RV. On my first few times riding it as a passenger, I was scared to death and held on to Justin for dear life until my fingers went white. Then I graduated to holding onto the side handle bars. Nowadays, I have one hand on the camera and the other hand free to scratch my butt, and sometimes even falling asleep.

During our three months on the road, when Margaritaville is comfortably resting at a campsite, we would take the motorcycle to explore every nook and cranny, especially the twisty windy roads. While encountering countless other riders, we noticed that they usually travel in packs and seem to fit a certain stereotype – older men (and some women) in their 50s and 60s, covered in skull tattoos and geared up in leather chaps and vest and a ripped up Harley Davidson t-shirt. Then there’s us…when we get off our bike and remove our helmets and motorcycle jackets, we look like a couple of pansy yuppie posers in our Helly Hansen baselayers and Merrell hiking shoes. I’m sure it doesn’t help that my helmet is pink as I aspire to be a Pink Power Ranger. But when we get on that bike and ride, we seem to belong to a new club that I never knew existed. Just about every other biker we pass by gives us a wave or a head nod as if to acknowledge our fellow biker status. And if it is another BMW bike, we receive an extra special recognition for belonging to an ultra exclusive club. Sometimes when I am standing next to the bike waiting for Justin to go to the bathroom, people would drive by and shout out things like “Awesome!” or “Cool bike!” Of course I didn’t know what all the fuss was about until I realized that these people thought I was the one driving the bike. Little do they know, I can barely ride a bicycle, let alone a motorcycle. Nonetheless, it is fun to pretend that I am a cool biker chick no matter how far off the mark I am. (This is usually when reality hits and self loathing sets in.)

Another great thing about motorcycles is that not only are they incredibly fun and thrilling to ride, but also highly fuel efficient! The only problem is we never know exactly how much gas it holds because the tank is so small. One time when we were on our way to the south entrance of Yellowstone, the empty gas light came on. Knowing that we could go for at least 70 miles before filling up, we kept driving until we reached our destination. We were riding uphill for miles when the engine completely shut off which meant we were totally out of gas. We didn’t know how much longer we had until the next gas station, so we coasted on sheer momentum and sheer luck. Thank god we were going downhill all the way, so we crouched down low on the bike to increase our aerodynamics. We even passed by three cars in a no-passing zone because we couldn’t afford to slow down and brake. After five long miles riding in silence with the engine off, we successfully reached the gas station at the south entrance. It was quite nerve wracking but we laughed ourselves to tears, marveling at our dumb luck.

But motorcycles aren’t just for riding. When we picked up Justin’s parents to travel down the Oregon Coast, they were worried about our safety. While they wanted nothing to do with the motorcycle, Justin’s mom found a safe way to use it – hanging her hand-washed undergarments on the handlebars to dry. Who would have thought!

This post is dedicated to our dear friend Jimmy who is terrorizing the mean streets of Sydney on his Vespa. Vroom vroom!

EUROPE WEEK 2: 8 WAYS TO TRAVEL IN GREECE ON A BUDGET

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Since we are in Europe for two months, we can’t afford to spend lavishly on lodging and food every day, so here’s how we have been able to travel on a shoestring budget in Greece!

TRAVEL DURING LOW SEASON. Visit Greece in late spring or early fall when the weather is mild and balmy, lodging is half the price, and you don’t have to deal with hordes of other tourists. Just don’t go past mid-October when the weather turns cold and windy, half the hotels and businesses are boarded up, and many inter-island ferries stop running or get canceled at the last minute.
RENT AN APARTMENT OR HOTEL WITH A KITCHENETTE. While eating the local cuisine is a big part of the cultural experience, when you have the option to cook, you can save a lot of money by not eating out at every meal. On Santorini, we rented a studio apartment at Hotel Antonia that comes with unlimited free wine and coffee. On Mykonos, we stayed at Marietta’s Apartments which has a roof deck for unobstructed sunset views. Both are only 35€ a night (half the regular rate), very clean and excellent places close to town with free wi-fi, great customer service, free pick-up/drop-off, and most importantly, allowed us to cook.
LET THE HOARDING BEGIN. If you can’t find an apartment to stay in or are only there for a couple nights and don’t feel like cooking, try to book a hotel that offers free breakfast. In Athens, we stayed at the Novotel for 59€ a night with free breakfast (offer through Trip Advisor); even though it is in a bad neighborhood with hookers and heroin addicts, it is a nice and modern hotel only 10 minutes away from the Omonia metro station. We wisely invested in a set of Tupperware for 3€ and the ROI has been more than ten-fold. While eating our free buffet breakfast, we stuffed our Tupperware with bread, cheese, eggs, tomatoes, cucumbers, pastries, and fruits to save for lunch. We were able to make two meals out of our breakfast for four days (I know – so Chinese!)
SKIP THE LONELY PLANET. Why lug around those heavy Rough Guides or Lonely Planet books when wi-fi is so accessible these days? While they do provide a lot of information and Lonely Planet does offer a smaller pocket guide and an iPhone app, everything you need to know about every country is available online for FREE. Trip Advisor has been a tremendous resource for finding hotels, restaurants, and things to do on every budget.
EXPLORE ON YOUR OWN. Don’t waste your money on bus tours, sunset cruises, and other sh*tty tourist traps. We hired an ATV for 20€ a day (plus 5€ for gas) and had a fantastic time exploring the entire Santorini island and getting lost. We also did a moderate three-hour hike from the town of Fira to Oia to enjoy the famous postcard sunset there and rode the bus back for only 2€.
CHECK OUT FREE OR CHEAP EXCURSIONS. Some museums and historical sites like the Acropolis in Athens offer free or discounted visitor days. Other sites like Ancient Thera on Santorini only costs 2€ a person. Doing a little research ahead of time to schedule your sightseeing accordingly can save you some mullah for happy hour!
DRINK MORE WINE. Believe it or not, it is actually cheaper to drink the house wine than coffee or juice or beer at most bars and cafes (e.g., 3€ for wine vs. 4.50€ for hot chocolate). Tap water on the islands is not safe to drink, so stock up on bottled water as it is very cheap to buy at grocery and convenient stores but three times the price at restaurants. Opa!!!
SAVE YOUR LAUNDRY. We made a colossal mistake of having our laundry done on Santorini as it turns out there are no self-serving laundromats. Unlike New York City Chinatown where laundry is cleaned, dried, and folded for 5 bucks a pound, it cost us a whopping 12€ per load. We painfully squandered 24€ for two very small loads of laundry. Good god! Well, at least our underwear were rolled and tucked into very neat squares, but who the hell needs that?!?

Whatever your budget is, definitely make Greece a part of your European itinerary. Santorini is absolutely stunning and perfectly romantic for honeymooners. Just about everything is painted in white with blue accents adorned with overgrown pink blossoms - Greeks must use a lot of white paint! We also had the best Greek food there. (You must try the baked eggplant, saganaki, fava beans, and grilled octopus at Mama's House, felafel pita sandwich at Lucky's Souvlaki, and baklava and hot chocolate at any cafe.) Mykonos is a wondrous labyrinth of alleyways to get lost in by day and ideal for party goers by night. And even though we were stuck in Athens for a few days due to the austerity strikes, it was an adventure we wouldn't trade for all the ouzo in Greece.

Next stop: Barcelona

RV DAY 59: FEAR AND LOATHING…AT BORDER CROSSING

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 10:27:00 +0000

After we canoed back to shore, Brian, Becca, Justin, and I picked up Margaritaville and drove five hours southwest to Vancouver and checked in at the Renaissance Harbourside Hotel where we met up with Justin’s sister Briana and brother-in-law John. We spent a four-day weekend checking off all the touristy must-dos like biking around Stanley Park, devouring delicious Asian food (it’s been too long!), taking the ferry to Granville Island, and seeing the hilarious Daniel Tosh comedy act at the Orpheum. Plus I got to visit my relatives who live there and introduced them to Justin. On Monday morning we parted ways with the others in Vancouver and continued our journey south. The following scene took place when we crossed the border from Canada to Washington via I-5 on Monday at 3:23 pm.

Scene I: Margaritaville is approaching the border. I quickly eat the apple I pilfered from the hotel breakfast lounge.

Justin: Everything is put away properly and I don’t intend to be inspected for anything. Sniff dogs are too low near the ground. Got it? Let’s just cross the border and be done with it.

Evan: Got it. I’m all about stealth. I could be a secret agent. In fact, I should change my career and become a secret agent.

J (bursting into laughter): No one would hire you. You’re as stealth as a four year old. What is the most unstealth job in the world? You can apply for that.

E: What are you talking about? That is precisely my cover. Because I am loud and laugh at everything, people would never suspect in a billion years that I am a double agent so they will tell me everything. And I know kung fu!

J: Karate chopping me in the back while I’m cooking does not qualify you as a kung fu master.

E: That’s what we secret agents do. We surprise attack you from behind when you’re not looking.

J: No one would hire you.

After queuing for almost half an hour at the border crossing, it is finally Margaritaville’s turn when the officer motioned for us to move to the station. We handed over our passports to the officer, a nondescript white guy with glasses who shall be named Officer # 1. Our hearts are pounding even though we haven’t committed any crime.

Officer #1: Good afternoon, guys.

J: Good afternoon.

O1: Where are you headed?

J: Seattle.

O1: How long were you in Canada?

J: About 2-3 weeks.

E (mumbling softly): Yea, 3 weeks.

O1: What were you there for? Business or recreation?

J: Recreation.

O1: Where did you visit in Canada?

J: Jasper, Banff, and Wells Gray.

E: And Vancouver.

O1 (pointing at me): Who is the passenger?

J: That’s my wife.

O1 (looking at the passport and back at us): What do you do for a living?

J: IT Consultant.

O1: Your wife?

J: Same.

O1: Do you have any food?

J: No food.

Two other officers walk over to the station – another nondescript white guy in glasses with an Asian lady in tow, and the three of them start a barely audible private conversation.

E (nervously looking at the pear inside my Longchamp bag): Oh I have a pear.

J (thinking to himself): Good god! What the f*ck?

E (responding telepathically): Sorry sorry sorry!!! I didn’t have time to eat it.

O1: Ok guys. I’m going to ask you to pull over for an agriculture inspection. Just take this orange slip and park the RV in that lot and leave the keys in the RV. Then walk over to the office over there.

J: Ok.

Scene II: We park Margaritaville in the inspection lot along with many other cars and RVs and head over to the border security office where there are three long lines. We wait in one of the lines for a few minutes before realizing there is an “Agriculture Inspection” counter. We walk over to the counter where we are greeted by Officer #2 – the same white guy from earlier but without the Asian lady. We hand over the orange slip.

O2: How’s it going? I need you to fill out this Immigration Declaration form.

We fill out the form, declaring that we are bringing fruit into the country.

O2: Excellent. Just wait here for a few minutes for us to inspect the RV and then we’ll call you when it is over.

J: Great. Thanks.

A few long minutes pass by and Officer #2 returns with my pear. My heart continues to pound rather quickly as if I’m having heart palpitations. Paranoia is setting in, but I play it cool because I am stealth. It was the longest five minutes of my life.

O2: Ok guys you are good to go! Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take the pear because it doesn’t have a sticker on it. But it was very good you declared the fruit. I even heard you say outside that you had a pear. Otherwise, it would have been a very hefty $300 fine.

E (shocked at the outrageous penalty): Jesus! Why is it so much?

O2: We can’t mix fruit from other countries, because it’s very bad for our agriculture. The fine used to be only $50 but we keep increasing it. I don’t know why though. Next time, just make sure you eat it before crossing the border.

E: Well, that’s good to know.

He imprints a giant stamp on the back of the orange slip and signs it.

O2: You guys are free to go. Just take this slip with you and give it to that officer on your way out.

J: Great. Thank you very much.

Scene III: We hop back into Margaritaville, hand the slip to the last officer and ride into the sunset towards Mt. Rainier. We are in the clear.

J: Umm hello? Stealth… When he said you are good to go, we get the f*ck out. You don’t ask questions.

E: Again, that is part of my cover up! When you try to leave as quickly as possible, it makes you look guilty. But I am engaging in a deep conversation with the border officer so it means I have nothing to hide.

J: No one would ever hire you.

E (singing to the “Secret agent man” tune): Secret…Asian man…Secret…Asian man…

After a couple hours drive, we arrived in Bothell where we stayed at the Residence Inn with our friend Allen who flew up from San Francisco on a business trip and dined at Malay Satay with my other friends Sharon and Elaine who just moved to Seattle from SF. We were able to successfully cross the border without incident. No mescaline was smuggled or ingested.

End Scene.

Next stop: Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens. Over and out.

RV DAY 52: ROW ROW ROW YOUR BOAT

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 08:44:00 +0000

Note: Sorry to go back and forth between our present day Europe trip and trying to finish our RV adventure, but I'm almost caught up!

While in Canada, we decided to ditch Margaritaville and spend five days in the high seas (well, more like calm lakes). After picking up our friend Brian and his new girlfriend Becca in Jasper, we quickly made our five-hour drive to Wells Gray, only stopping by a few must-see sites like Lake Louise. Upon arrival at Clearwater Lake, we picked up our canoes, packed up our camping gear and food, and started paddling fast to arrive at the first campsite by nightfall. Justin and I shared a canoe while Brian and Becca shared another. Becca and I were in the front of the canoes acting as the "muscle" paddling hard (half the time), while Justin and Brian were in the back as the "brain and muscle" steering the direction of the canoe as well as paddling. Sasquatch Brian at 6'7 is twice as tall as Becca and ten times heavier, so he was tipping the canoe heavily in the back. Luckily, no one capsized. (Side note: Even though Justin is 6'2, he manages to look short next to all his gargantuan friends, which makes me wonder, do tall guys only have tall friends even if they don't necessarily date tall girls?) Anyway, the water was as glassy as a mirror which really eased us into the motion of rowing. It took about an hour and a half to reach Barview, our designated campground. By the time we arrived, it was already dark so we quickly pitched our tent and fell asleep.

The next day we rowed another few hours to reach the end of Clearwater Lake. But in order to get across to Azure Lake, we had to carry all our belongings and the canoes because the river connecting the two lakes was upstream. The portage (pronounced like "corsage" as the pseudo-French Canadians liked to point out) was a difficult and extremely long 500 yards of windy bushy trail for us to transport back and forth. Any exposed skin we had was like nectar to the hundreds of mosquitoes swarming around us - we each must have been bitten 50 times. The boys had it worse lugging the heavy canoes on their shoulders. After what seemed like an infinity, we finally completed the arduous journey and rowed to our next campsite - Four and a Half Mile. The next day we rowed to the end of Azure Lake and settled at the Rainbow Falls Campground for two nights. Every campground we went to looked just like the set of Lost in Hawaii - pristine beachfront with stunning sunset views. We spent our time hiking, fishing, skipping stones, drinking, and chatting with the neighbors. Brian and I also provided constant entertainment as we couldn't stop bickering with each other while Becca and Justin laughed and only occasionally chimed in, usually telling Brian he's crazy and too defensive for his own good. By the fourth day, we set sail and rowed 20km in the rain to Archer Creek Campground. Luckily the thunderstorm didn't amount to much, other than the lightning strike sparking a forest fire right in front of our eyes.

Even though we were spoiled with great weather throughout our trip, on our fifth and final day, the wind picked up considerably and we had to row back to our starting point in very choppy waters, something we were not accustomed to. What a difference the wind made! We had to row ten times as hard to cover half the distance. I gave up countless times from fatigue which angered Justin. Unfortunately, you can't just pull over anywhere you like because the landscape is completely lined with jagged trees so we had to keep rowing until reaching our destination. After hours of back-breaking rowing, we made it safely to the dock where many Europeans were just beginning their journey. Just our luck, as soon as we got all our gear out of the canoes, it started pouring and the rain soaked all of our belongings before we had a chance to put them in the RV. Even though we got wet in the end, at least we weren't the Europeans going out there in the rain!

Over and out. Next stop: Vancouver

EUROPE WEEK 1: STUCK IN ATHENS

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 16:59:00 +0000

Reporting live from Greece...After relaxing in India for a month, we have embarked on our next adventure - "backpacking" through Europe for two months. I use the term loosely because our idea of roughing it is staying in a less expensive hotel, not rooming with four Aussies in a hostel. Our first stop is Greece. We arrived in Athens on Sunday, planning to spend only one night there and then visit one of the most romantic Greek islands, Santorini, by ferry boat. When we got to the port after dragging our luggage all over town, it was completely empty. We realized our timing couldn't be more impeccable as ferry employees have just announced a 48-hour strike from Monday 6am to Wednesday 6am. Disappointed, we went back to our hotel, the Novotel near the Omonia station, and stayed a couple more nights, hoping to catch the next ferry on Wednesday. Luckily we were able to visit the Acropolis, the Acropolis Museum, the National Archeological Museum, the Agora, and some other ancient sites on Monday and Tuesday. Then by Wednesday, a general strike was called for all employees in both the public and private sectors to not work for two days in a protest against the Greek government so we were stuck in Athens until Friday. They even shut down the Acropolis! In case you have been living under a rock, you would know that the Greek Parliament was set to vote on a set of austerity measures to cut wages and pensions while increasing taxes and laying off employees in order to secure a huge loan from the IMF. Some 70,000 protestors turned up all over Athens, crippling the capital. Garbage has been piling up for 20 days as they have not been picked up. We couldn't walk down the street without tripping over trash on every corner or tasting the pungent smell it in the air.

As soon as we left our hotel to meander to the Plaka (major tourist trap), there were hundreds of demonstrators holding up signs and walking from the Parliament to Syntagma. The energy was tense but there was no violence from our standpoint. What you have been seeing on the news was the worst bit that only happened in a few isolated places. Most of the businesses were closed except for various small shops who couldn't afford to. But quite a few cafes and restaurants remained open and were packed with protestors grabbing a bite and having coffee. We watched so many protestors walk by as we were having lunch and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. I wanted to join the protest and meet the locals, but Justin, the ever prudent husband, kept me walking in the opposite direction and out of harm's way. It was not until we got back to our hotel and turned on the news that the protest became violent, with flaming balls thrown at the police and tear gas unleashed at the crowd. After resting for a bit and flipping the TV channels for anything in English (who the hell watches "Legend of the Seeker"?), we ventured out for some dinner. As we were walking around in the aftermath of the protest, only a few cops were patrolling the streets but the tear gas was still thick in the air stinging our eyes. We quickly walked back to our hotel passing by all the hookers and heroine addicts shooting up right in front of us (not the greatest neighborhood but the Novotel is really nice for the cheap rate and offers free American buffet breakfast through Trip Advisor).

By Thursday, we couldn't take it anymore as it was already four more days than we wanted to spend in Athens. We went to a travel agency to see if we could book our ferry tickets for Friday. Unfortunately, the ferry union called for a third 48-hour strike! We are for the masses but come on! If only the ferry employees would just stay open for one goddamn day for us to leave town! So we decided to book a last minute flight to Santorini rather than wait until Sunday for the small chance that ferries will run. Even though it costs 100 euros more per person, it was so worth it. We were able to leave Athens Friday morning (thank god the airport was open) and have happily arrived in Santorini. It really is so beautiful, just like the postcards! Unfortunately for the Greek citizens, the Parliament just approved the unpopular austerity measures despite the violent protest.

RV DAY 48: CANADA, OH CANADA!

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 05:40:00 +0000

Campers, we have arrived in Canada where everyone ends their sentence with “eh!” After two weeks in Jasper and Banff, here are some observations about our welcoming neighbor to the north.

The people and language: Canadians are genuinely friendly, so I immediately don’t trust them. They can speak Canadian French and Canadian English perfectly and switch between the two effortlessly, which can only mean they have been trained as bilingual spies their whole lives. All signs, menus, packages, and literature are written in both languages, which helps me review my high school French, although all I can make out are Bienvenue and Vous etes ici. While they sound more American than British when speaking English, they spell words like the Queen’s Tongue (e.g., colour, favourite, aluminium). Canadians also seem to be stuck in the 90s, or maybe 2005 at the latest. “Today’s Hits” on the radio consist of the likes of Billy Joel and Richard Marx. The newest songs I heard were James Blunt’s You’re Beautiful, Britney Spears’s Baby Hit Me One More Time, or maybe Lady Gaga’s Pokerface.

The parks and environment: The campgrounds here are absolutely breathtaking with very clean amenities. All the porta potties are built with cedar wood so there is no foul odor. Rangers are called “park wardens” which sounds a little scary, not that I have anything to hide. Bears in Canada are as ubiquitous as grey Prii (officially decreed by Toyota as the plural form of Prius) in San Francisco. There are hourly bear sighting reports on the radio, and people jog and bike with a mandatory bear spray or risk a hefty fine. The highway is completely fenced in to keep wildlife out of the roads.

The goods and services: When I had to fill a prescription, it only cost $15 which would have been $50 back home without insurance. When we had a flat tire, we stopped by the Saskatchewan Crossing gas station and the mechanic changed it for us FOR FREE. He worked tirelessly for an hour – keep in mind that it’s not some dinky tire on a Honda Civic. The tire alone weighs 500 pounds (or maybe 50) and the RV weighs a million pounds (ok more like 13,000). That could have easily cost $100 back home! We rewarded him with a six-pack of cold beers instead. While some goods and services are a lot more affordable (or even free), others will cost you an arm and a leg. Case in point: alcohol. Forget 3 buck chucks - a “cheap” bottle of wine will set you back $20. A case of Budweiser or a bottle of Vodka? $45! That is highway robbery indeed. Furthermore, now that the exchange rate is C$1 to US$1, it has become rather disadvantageous for Americans who are used to 75 cents for every US$.

Nevertheless, go get yourself a passport and visit Canada, eh!

DISCLAIMER

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 04:24:00 +0000

Dear readers,
Summer has ended and so has our RV road trip. We are actually now in India with Justin's family. When do we ever work, you ask? Who cares? But I promise to finish blogging about our road trip in the next few weeks. Thanks for your patience and your continued patronage, all three of you.
Love,
Margaritaville

This sticker we got at Burning Man just says it all...

RV DAY 44: LIFE OF PETTY CRIME

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 19:25:00 +0000

Plaintiff: Canada vs. Defendants: Justin and Evan with Accomplice: Margaritaville

The following charges have been cited against the Defendants by the Canadian states of Alberta and British Columbia. The Defendants pleaded no contest, while the Accomplice has yet to enter a plea.

• 1 count of smuggling: When passing the Canadian border, Defendants were instructed by the border patrol to discard all pitted fruits brought in from the US. Defendants threw away 2 rotten plums but proceeded through the border with a box of California dates – all 50 pitted fruits.
• 5 counts of illegal overnight parking: Defendants spent 3 nights in Banff and 2 nights in Jasper parking overnight on the streets instead of paying for a campground site. They claimed all nearby sites were full and had no choice but to spend the night in their RV on the street.
• 1 count of poaching: Defendants caught a boat ride while returning from a hike but did not pay for the ride which costs $5.50 per person. Their only response was, "Who hikes with their wallet?"
• 3 counts of theft: 1) In the town of Jasper, Defendants stole Internet at Lou Lou’s Pizzeria because there was no log-in required rather than paying $2 for 20 minutes. They were frequently seen sitting on the bench next to Lou Lou’s tapping away on their iPhone and using Skype to call home. 2) Then at the Columbia Icefield Visitor Center cafeteria, Defendants pilfered packets of ketchup without buying food there. 3) At Honeymoon Lake Campground, Defendants stole two boxes of chopped wood to use at another campsite. Even though the wood was free, they are intended for those camping at Honeymoon Lake.

The court finds the Defendants Justin and Evan GUILTY of all charges. The Defendants have been sentenced to a lifetime ban from Canada plus 30 years at a maximum security prison and a $1 million fee. The Accomplice Margaritaville will be locked up in a car compound for 10 years with no parole.

Defendants have fled with the Accomplice and were last seen in the town of Banff picking up two additional accomplices, Brian and Becca, who arrived from the US this afternoon. They are expected to continue their life of petty crime until they are caught again.

RV DAY 38: WILDLIFE REPORT AT GLACIER

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 18:05:00 +0000

Campers, wildlife have been spotted at the Glacier National Park and here is my full detailed report. This is highly classified so read at your own risk.

Location: Glacier National Park in Montana, US and Alberta and British Columbia, Canada

Description: This park is also known as Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park World Heritage Site. Waterton and Glacier are two parks along the US-Canadian border linked by the respective governments as the world’s first international peace park in 1932. I smell suspicious government conspiracy activity here, but I have not figured out exactly what they are conspiring against.

Subject Spotted:

1. 1 black bear of dark brown color off the side of highway 89 before the Many Glacier Entrance

2. 2 blonde grizzly bears from across the Many Glaciers Lake – the first blonde bears we spotted thus far
3. 1 moose, 1 elk and 1 unidentifiable very fast orange red deer-like subject on the Swifcurrent Nature trail (I suspect it is a deer)

4. 3 bighorn sheep and 2 mountain goats on Going-to-the-Sun Road at sunset

5. 1 grey wolf running somewhere in the mountains but exact location is a bit hazy, maybe not even at this park
6. 1 bald eagle flying in the sky, also forget which sky
7. Bison aka buffalo – not found as they do not live at Glacier – you need to go to Yellowstone where you will find yourself tripping over them

Subject Survival Guide:

1. Do not approach subject or feed them – all wildlife can be dangerous. An elk or moose can charge you at 40 mph if they feel threatened, especially during elk rutting season in September. You need to be at least 100 yards away from bears and wolves and 25 yards away from all other wildlife.

2. Do not run or make sudden movements. This may cause them to attack and you cannot outrun them. Bears can run at 35 mph.
3. Store all food, containers, cooking equipment in your vehicle. Bears can apparently even smell water bottles.
4. Talk loudly, sing, or clap on a hiking mission, especially when approaching a blind corner. This will help scare the subject away or you might end up surprising him which is never a good thing.
5. Always carry bear spray on a mission. Bear spray is not like bug spray – it is NOT a repellant. I repeat, bear spray is NOT a repellant. Do not spray on yourself or on your gear / tent or you will be sent to the emergency room (this has happened to other touring officers before). Bear spray is meant for the subject if he is about to attack you. Be mindful of the wind direction – it is supposed to spray 20-30 feet but if the wind is blowing towards you, then you need to move closer (about 15 feet) to the subject.
6. If you find yourself under bear attack and you do not have bear spray, DON’T drop your pack and run or climb a tree. Subject can outrun and outclimb you. Lie down on the ground with your face down and leave your backpack on to protect you. Put your hands on the back of your neck as this is usually the first place the subject will attack. Then live to tell about it.

7. This warning is straight from General Justin: Always take someone slower than you on a mission. If you are trailed by a subject such as a mountain lion as he has in the past, take off and leave the slow fat kid behind. I suspect this is why parents camp with little kids.

Where to Hunker Down for the Night:

1. Johnson’s Campground at St Mary on the east side of Glacier: $27/night for an RV site or $40/night for full electrical and water hookup.
2. Swiftcurrent Lake Lodge which [allegedly] inspired the haunted hotel in The Shining “Redrum…redrum…” Rooms are expensive but very simple like a convent or dorm room.

Where to Fuel Up Before Your Next Mission:

1. Johnson’s Café: A rustic little café; the Daily Special is a great deal at $15.95 – especially for you meatetarians. We got the trout “family style” which comes with fresh baked bread, soup, coleslaw, and a baked potato the size of your head. You cannot split a plate so you end up eating enough to hibernate for the winter – this is especially good for long and dangerous missions.

2. Park Café: A hippie café with 20 pies to choose from – all the fruit pies plus Peanut Butter, Boston Cream, Chocolate Mousse, etc. and it is the best pie you’ll ever taste! We shared the Razzleberry (raspberry, blackberry, and huckleberry) and the Strawberry Rhubarb a la mode. Go early as many of the pie choices are sold out by the afternoon, and there is a line even at 9:30 at night. Have a slice before your next mission as it may be the last pie you ever eat.

Missions Accomplished:
1. Drive along the Going-to-the-Sun Road, a 50-mile scenic windy road that stretches from the east side of the park at St. Mary to the west entrance with tons of glacier vista points. This is where we spotted subjects bighorn sheep and mountain goats roaming on the highway.
2. Hike the Pitamakan Pass trail at Two Medicine Lake, have a picnic lunch and walk on glaciers. Then take the scenic cruise back ($5.50 / person).

Missions Not Attempted:
1. Fishing at the Medicine Grizzly Lake, Lake Evangeline, Oldman Dry Lake, and Hidden Lake. We actually didn’t fish there but we were told that’s where good fishing is.
2. Horseback riding, whitewater rafting, backcountry camping, mountain biking.

Wildlife report complete. Next stop: Jasper and Banff. Over and out.

RV DAY 34: GHOST TOWNS AND COLLEGE TOWNS

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 17:52:00 +0000

Welcome to Montana, campers! If you have never been to a ghost town, it is quite an eerie experience, like walking on a set of an old western movie. The ones we found in Montana are as good and haunting as any: Virginia City, Nevada City, and Bannack. These are all old mining towns that once flourished in the goldmine days but have been abandoned since the gold dried out. Virginia City has both old stores no longer in business but you can still peer inside and find dust-covered merchandise exactly as they sat a century ago ($2 ladies boots!) interspersed with new operations with the original storefront still intact. We stopped by the ice cream parlor and I could not believe they turned my favorite combination - chocolate orange into an ice cream flavor! (Of course Justin got vanilla because he always gets vanilla.) Nevada City has a museum and many old log cabins, but we didn’t bother paying for the tour to walk through the gated ghost town. You can even stay at the lodge there that is still in business. Bannack is the largest and most haunting ghost town of all, where you can meander through the old church, tavern, schoolhouse, and cabins. Close your eyes and see the drunken miners dancing with decked out ladies (or prostitutes) in the bustling tavern and cowboys riding through town with tumbleweed rolling around the dusty ground.

After a day visiting ghost towns, we spent the night at the Rombo campgrounds in the Bitterroot National Forest where we went fly fishing. Dressed more like a jungle camouflage soldier than a fisherman, I helped catch a couple of cutthroat trout (the operative word being “helped”). But it turned out my waders we got from Craigslist had tiny holes in the “waterproof” neoprene feet so the river water immediately seeped through my boots. Believe me, it is not a very good feeling hiking around in soaking wet boots. The next day, we made our way to Missoula, a very cute college town with tons of breweries and pricey boutiques. We stayed at the Goldsmith’s Inn B&B which was just a few blocks away from historic downtown proper and served excellent breakfast of huckleberry French toast and eggs and fruit and yogurt. We were also able to get a replacement RV door lock which I broke – that $100 is coming out of my nonexistent paycheck.

We concluded our week in Whitefish where we visited Justin’s college buddy, Matt, whom he hasn’t seen in 10 years and is a dead ringer for Nicholas Cage, his lovely wife Gretchen and their adorable 3-year-old son Reed. They built their own house on 10 acres that can only be reached via miles on a dirt road, with a commodious carport housing every mountain-man toy imaginable – raft, skis, mountain bikes, snowmobile, tractor. We spent a fun couple nights as Justin and Matt reminisced about their wild college days where their house parties were sponsored by High Times, while Reed regaled us with his stories like beating up a black bear that frequents their backyard by karate chopping the thousand-pound beast in the stomach and kicking him up in the air, and strangling a black mamba with his bare hands in Africa when he was 18 years old. Oh the imagination of precocious 3-year-olds (or perhaps a past-life memory?) We also picked fresh huckleberries off the bushes in their backyard, which up to this point I didn’t know were a real fruit. (Side note about hucks: Since we arrived in Wyoming and Montana, we have seen huckleberry by-products everywhere like jam, honey, mustard, chocolate, ice cream, pie, taffy, lotion, bath gel, lip balm – pretty much anything that comes with a flavor. But I have never seen the actual fruit before until now. Huckleberries look like blueberries but less mushy and taste far better, a little tangy but sweet at the same time. They are my new favorite berry!)

All in all, Montana was definitely a surprisingly fun, diverse place to visit and an outdoor enthusiast’s playground! In Arnold’s words, we’ll be back!

Next stop: Glacier National Park. Over and out.

RV DAY 30: BISON AND COYOTES AND BEARS, OH MY!

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 06:43:00 +0000

Happy summer campers! Before we arrived at Yellowstone, the only thing I really knew about the national park was that it was home to the Old Faithful geyser. Since Justin had visited as a kid with his family and thought it to be too touristy, we originally planned to stay for only a couple nights to be with our friends. But we ended up staying for an entire week after realizing it is so much more than just a tourist trap. Yellowstone is America’s first national park (est. 1872 by Pres. Ulysses S. Grant) and sits on over two million acres of natural wonders spanning Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming. More than half of the world’s geysers are here (over 300!), while colorful wild flowers like purple lupines and pink wild roses adorn the fields. Wildlife watching is also a must – but I prefer to see the bigger (and more dangerous) mammals only from afar.

The six of us entered the park through the West Entrance and went south to see Old Faithful erupt. The Old Faithful Inn has a clock letting you know their prediction of the next eruption, which is about 90 – 120 minutes apart (give or take 10 minutes). Thousands of tourists gather around to watch it erupt, and when the eruption starts, the geyser spits up for a while before going up about 100 feet in the air, strong sulfur (rotten egg) smell fills the atmosphere, and then everyone cheers. But not all geysers are that predictable – Steamboat Geyser is the world’s tallest but has not erupted since 2005. [Here’s how geysers work: the water for geysers comes from rain and snow that seeps into the ground. Then magma (hot molten rock) heats up the surrounding rocks which then boil the water that has seeped underground. When the water gets hot enough, it begins to rise back up towards the surface. Geysers need strong “pipes” or silica that form a plumbing system to withstand a violent eruption. Other thermal features in Yellowstone are hot springs (pools filled with hot water but do not erupt), mudpots (pools filled with hot bubbling mud), and steam vents that just let off steam with not much water.]

After dining at the Old Faithful Inn, we continued east to the Fishing Bridge RV park. (This was one of the few campgrounds at Yellowstone that you can reserve ahead of time, but it is the most expensive, crowded, and least attractive so don’t camp there.) The next morning, we hiked through the Pelican Valley which I highly recommend for wildlife viewing, but don’t hike alone – the trail was closed after three miles due to high bear activity (as in fresh carcasses). It is a beautiful open valley that stretches for miles and definitely requires binoculars, but Justin the eagle eye quickly spotted two gray wolves chasing a herd of bison. All I saw were little black and brown dots. Throughout the week, we caught a glimpse of other wildlife around the park: squirrels and chipmunks (woop-dee-doo), marmot, mule deer, osprey (the only type of eagle that dives into the water to eat fish), moose, bald eagle, coyote, and raven (which Justin could not resist taking a picture of with his middle finger to demonstrate a “F*ck you, Baltimore Ravens!” from a Steelers fan). We have yet to run into a grizzly (thank god), bighorn sheep, and mountain lion. [Here’s a little side note about wolves that we learned: wolves were taken out of the park for 70 years to protect the elk and deer and bison from the predator but were reintroduced back into the ecosystem in 1995. While the wolves thrive, bears also benefit – when a wolf pack makes a kill, bears would smell the carcass, make their way over and scare the wolves off to get a free meal! Must be nice to be at the top of the food chain. As for grizzlies, in the early 1900s, they used to have a lot of interaction with humans when humans used to leave food out in the trash bins for the bears to feed on and thousands of tourists would gather around these bins to have a bear viewing. But rangers realized how dangerous this was for both bears and humans (after a fatal attack in the 40s), so it took decades of reform to change the habits of bears and attitudes of humans. Now the saying is “A fed bear is a dead bear.” Everyone must take special precautions when hiking and camping in bear country – don’t leave any traces of food out. Bears quickly learn and associate humans with food and may become aggressive and violent. Countless bears have been taken out of Yellowstone and sent to zoos all over the world for that very reason.]

After our friends departed Yellowstone to move on to their next destination, it was back to the two of us so we moved our base camp to Norris, a more central part of the park and also a much nicer campground for half the price. We explored just about every part of Yellowstone by motorcycle which was a fantastic way to get around. By day, we packed enough food and water for hiking, boating, and exploring various hot springs. By dusk, I attended ranger talks on various subjects like grizzly bears and bison, while Justin attempted to fish. Luckily, the recent oil spill in the Yellowstone River in Montana has not affected the park.

With the wealth of information I learned, as you can tell, I am well on my way to becoming a Junior Ranger!

Next stop: Missoula, Montana. Over and out.

Here's what NOT to do - stepping on the hydrothermal areas like these idiot tourists - it could break easily and kill you with scalding water.

RV DAY 24: ENTERING BEAR COUNTRY AT GRAND TETONS

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 16:49:00 +0000

Holy grizzly campers! We have now entered bear country at the Grand Tetons National Park in Wyoming where we spent two nights at the Colter Bay campground. Luckily, our campsite (# 273) has a trail that leads back to Jackson Lake just 50 yards behind the forest. If we stayed at any other site, we would not have found such a gem. The glassy water against a backdrop of snowcapped mountains was where we created our own happy hour, dipping our feet in the icy cold water while having wine and cheese. Campfire by sunset was also a must, grilling hot dogs and vegetarian sausages, corn on the cob, yams and asparagus, followed by s’mores for dessert.

The next day we drove down the Teton Park Road and hiked around Jenny Lake on the Cascade Canyon turnout and stopped at Inspiration Point for a scenic picnic lunch. We opted to take the shuttle boat back instead of hiking back on the same trail - $7 per person for the boat ride was well worth it on a scorching hot day! Happy hour was at the Jackson Lake Lodge where we gorged on nachos and guacamole and huckleberry mojitos while sighting two grizzly cubs from far far away in the meadows.

On the third day, we went up the road to hike around Two Ocean Lake. We left the binoculars in the RV and forgot to take the bear spray with us – two essential items when seeking wildlife. Halfway through the trail, we found fresh bear scat and a big dirt patch under the tree. We realized we were stepping into a bear’s den and quickly retreated. We were nervous the entire hike back to our car - six idiots without bear spray yelling “Hey Bear!” in bear habitat. But we made it back safely without incident, except we came across a duck’s head ripped off from the body on the side of the trail. And with that grim thought, we departed Grand Tetons to head north.

Next stop: Yellowstone (where there was a recent fatal grizzly bear attack). Over and out.

RV DAY 21: RODEO AND SHAKIRA AT JACKSON

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 15:58:00 +0000

Howdy campers! After we dropped Colin off at Reno airport, we continued our journey northeast to stop by the Craters of the Moon in Idaho. It is a small national park where the land is made of black sand with craters from volcanic activity. You really feel like you are walking on the moon but only a couple hours there is enough. Then we were off to Jackson, WY where we met up with our next set of visitors – my girlfriend Vy from SF, Justin’s childhood friend Bean living in HK, and his two friends from London, Alex and Jon who are all here for a wedding in Idaho. Jackson is a quaint little town, not to be confused with Jackson Hole, the nearby ski area. While the boys went white water rafting early in the morning, Vy and I brunched and shopped around the main town square. Jon the Brit was a bit nervous because river levels are at a record high due to unusual amount of snowfall this year and there was news that someone died from rafting just the day before. Nonetheless, everyone survived and we spent the evening at the rodeo.

If you’ve never been to a rodeo, it is quite a comic relief, though probably not on purpose. The emcee sounded like a real cowboy, dropping “hee haw” in every other sentence while playing Bon Jovi and other 80s hits. When he kept saying “the bucking post,” the boys thought he said “the f*cking post” and couldn’t stop laughing with tears rolling down their cheeks. Cowboy after cowboy did various stunts on a horse like lasso a cow or some obstacle course that we didn’t really understand. They were joined by adorable junior 5-year-old cowboys and cowgirls who tried riding on a sheep but only one succeeded while everyone else fell under the sheep before they could get on. The halftime show included midget duffers singing in a chicken suit and a contest with kids chasing cattle to grab a flag for a prize which was complete mayhem and ended in tears. Then came cowgirls riding their horse across performing various stunts. Unfortunately, only the first cowgirl was blonde and pretty; the rest were more mannish with thunder thighs, but nonetheless impressive. The show finale was the ever exciting bull riding which ended with the bull trampling on a midget (we soon realized it was a dummy midget so no actual humans were harmed). What is with the rodeo and midgets?

After the rodeo, we made our way to the famous Million Dollar Cowboy Bar. The bouncer discreetly informed us that Shakira was at the bar, but she was hard to find amongst so many cowboy-hat-wearing patrons. After Justin got a table at the back of the bar, the rest of us joined him and realized that Shakira and her boyfriend were sitting at the table right next to us. Vy and Bean proceeded to sit right next to them – Vy wanted to tell Shakira she is also a fellow Bruin (UCLA alum). She was wearing a turquoise plait shirt with jeans, and he was donning a cowboy hat and a white t-shirt with jeans. To be honest, they were a bit nondescript other than the fact that they were shamelessly making out like it was high school prom – his hand up her shirt and all over her ass. And speaking of ass, where is that ass she’s so famous for? Shakira was a TINY little girl and there was barely an ass on her! If I wasn’t told that it was Shakira, I wouldn’t have given her a second look. Then the Brits told us her boyfriend is a famous football (soccer) player for Barcelona and were surprised at his equally diminutive stature. Of course they would be the only two people in the entire bar who could identify the guy since no Americans follow soccer. Jon the Brit shameless took pictures of them with his iPhone until finally they got up and left the bar. We also left our table to play a few rounds of pool. Then on our way home, we came across a dance party at KoShu Wine Bar (which Vy and I heard about from Zeb the local guy who gave us a ride when we hitchhiked earlier). We danced until three in the morning and made an obligatory drunken pit stop at the convenient store where we wolfed down a box of powdered donuts. Ahh, fond memories of Jackson indeed.

Next stop: Grand Tetons. Over and out.

RV DAY 17: SPARKLE PONIES AND SPANKY’S WINE BAR

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 15:27:00 +0000

Happy Independence Day campers! Did your 4th of July involve a couple of sparkle ponies, a sword fighting tranny, a drunken genie, naked flame throwers, hippie stew, an exploding frog bat, and fireworks so close you can feel the debris? That pretty much sums up how we spent our week celebrating Independence Day.

For the past few years, hundreds of burners* gather at Black Rock City, NV for an unofficial Burningman occasion called the 4th of Juplaya. It is supposedly what Burningman used to be before it became a huge organized event with undercover cops. We picked up Colin, our first guest and Justin’s oldest friend since three years old, at the Reno airport and spent the day preparing for the week. Their parents are also close friends who must be wondering what the boys are doing “camping in the dessert.”

Colin and Justin tried their luck in fishing at Pyramid Lake, an Indian reservation, but they couldn’t even catch a cold, so we made our way to the Frog Pond where Spanky’s Wine Bar camped this year. The Frog Pond is located a few miles outside the dessert, or “playa” as it is called, so it is not nearly as hot and dusty. We were the only camp there while everyone else camped on the playa. The Frog Pond has a natural hot springs that attracted many burners from morning to night, quickly turning the hot springs into “hippie stew.” There was no way in hell we were getting in without our immunization shots. Across the street from the Frog Pond was a shooting range where I fired a shotgun. The kickback hurt like hell but I was glad I did not dislocate a shoulder. One camp created a giant frog bat that was filled with gasoline so a bunch of gun lovers can shoot at it and make it explode. We were all there to watch the burn, then we left when part of the area caught on fire.

Spanky’s Wine Bar not only served free wine and beer, we also featured a bondage wall where you get tied up to be spanked. Next to the bondage wall was the orgasmatron - a riding contraption with a massive vibrating Hitachi (guess what it is if you don’t already know) which provoked a protest when a male patron was told the orgasmatron was only for women. He and his friends came back an hour later with picket signs made out of cardboard. You can also play a game of dirty dice at the bar where you roll dice to perform certain dares. Justin’s punishment from rolling a nine was rubbing an ice cube all over his penis in front of the whole bar (you may call him “Ice Dick,”) then he had to pole dance like a stripper for rolling a seven.

Spanky’s is comprised of an eclectic group of about 20 fun and crazy characters that I couldn’t even make up if I tried. There was Admiral Pain Joy, our camp leader / DJ who loves walking around in a pink thong and doling out funny one-liners on the microphone. There was also Suzi, our favorite tranny who loves swinging her Japanese sword while drunk. When Buck from Boston was trying out the sword, I warned him to be careful not to chop off his penis – he couldn’t believe I said that in front of a transvestite. My friend Jacki and I were called Sparkle Ponies because “we don’t do any work other than stand around and look pretty.” While it is meant to be a backhanded compliment, we owned up to it and decided that we will create our own camp at Burningman called My Little Sparkle Ponies. We will decorate our camp with sparkling objects and My Little Ponies and invite everyone to join us so they can do all the work like set up our camp and cook for us while we get dolled up and dazzle them with our wit. Sounds pretty true to life anyway – that is why people like me marry people like Justin. Another example: when Jacki got a flat tire, Mark quickly came to the rescue and changed it for her while we blew bubbles. Finally, there was Tex the Lurker. He was a clean-cut 20 year old who appeared out of nowhere and did not belong to our camp. But he was often seen behind the bar drinking wine and inside people’s trailers pilfering food. The balls on that kid!

On our last night, we drove to the playa to watch fireworks. The fireworks were just as spectacular as they would be in any big city, but this was even better because we were only 50 yards away so the fireworks were directly above us. Mark decided to take Tex the Lurker with us so he couldn’t go through our belongings while we were gone. When we visited another camp, Tex wasted no time in serving himself a drink. We quickly returned to our camp, abandoning him there so now he was someone else’s problem. We realized that he left his backpack at our camp, so we did what anyone would do – go through it! We found his passport which one of us drew a Spanky’s Wine Bar stamp on the page next to the Holland stamp – won’t say who it was because everyone’s fingerprints are all over that thing. There was a flame baton and other random knickknacks that he must have stolen. We also found a note he wrote with “bike, money, job” and a list of people he owed money to. The next morning while we were shutting down the wine bar and cleaning up, the always resourceful Tex the Lurker showed up at the pond with his new friends. After mooping** up the pond, we met up for our last lunch at Bruno’s in Gerlach, said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Until next year, Spanky’s…

Next stop: Jackson, WY. Over and out.

*Burners: (n) People who participate in Burningman
**Moop: (n) Matter Out of Place – to moop up means to clean up all the moop

RV DAY 9: HOODOOS AT BRYCE CANYON

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 19:18:00 +0000

Howdy campers! After a bit of a mishap – we almost lost our spare tire and the motorcycle driving on washboard roads that rattled for miles, we safely made our way to Bryce Canyon in southern Utah. This fantastic national park is made up of hoodoos – pillars of rock of different shapes left by erosion. We started our hike at Sunset Point and walked through “Wall Street” on the Navajo Loop Trail which looked like something out of an Indian Jones movie, then continued onto the Peekaboo Loop Trail to Bryce Point where we took the shuttle back to Sunset Point.

As we hiked under the blazing sun, everywhere we turned, there were miles upon miles of phallic hoodoos standing erect. According to the Paiutes people who lived there for thousands of years, hoodoos are the “Legend People” whom Coyote had turned to stone. There was even a section of hoodoos that looked like a village of subjects listening to the king and queen. If you let your imagination run wild, these hoodoos can become anything you want! The hike took about four hours, which you can also do by horseback. When we returned to Sunset Point, we cooked and ate dinner while watching the sunset cast a nice pink glow to the hoodoos.
And sure enough, Justin got hit on by yet another middle-aged man. He has been approached every single day by older men commenting on the RV or motorcycle or even the Steelers sticker on our window. This time it was an Aussie who spotted Justin from afar wearing a Kangaroos jersey (Aussie Football team). The man remarked in his thick Aussie accent, "G'day mate! I think you're an American right? I noticed you've got a Roos jumper on and had to come over. I'm an Essendon fan myself." They chatted for a bit before the Aussie left for his tour bus. I told Justin we should have offered him a Tim Tam (best Aussie chocolate cookie!)

Next stop: 4th of Juplaya. Over and out.

RV DAY 8: SUNRISE AT THE GRAND CANYON

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 18:41:00 +0000

Top of the morning campers! After our wonderful time at Zion, we continued our journey to the Grand Canyon. We decided against visiting both the North Rim and the South Rim, because even though the two rims stand only 10 miles apart, it takes 215 miles to get there by road around the canyon. Since they haven’t built a skywalk and we are not birds who can swiftly fly from one rim to the other, we chose the less touristy North Rim. Plus it was my birthday, so I did not have to lift a finger for an entire day. My slave did all the work (yes I called him “slave” all day too), which meant the usual 70/30 split of responsibility was now 99/1. I did help out on a couple occasions when I felt like it – like getting a napkin.

We celebrated my birthday relaxing at the Grand Canyon Lodge, as my bicycle injuries prevented any difficult hikes. The lodge had a great viewing room with three huge windows and rows of leather sofas. Unfortunately, the design was slightly flawed (no offense to the architects). When you sit down on the sofa, you sink so low that you only see the sky, not the grand canyon as it is blocked by the window frames. Either the windows should have been floor to ceiling or the room should have been built with stadium seating to allow for better viewing.

After watching sunset with wine on the porch and dining at the lodge where the food was slightly overcooked, we attended a star gazing party hosted by the volunteers of the Phoenix Saguaro Astronomy Club. We were very lucky to catch the last night of this week-long star gazing event. When we peered through one of the telescopes, Saturn at 250 billion miles away looked like a sticker from the Air and Space Museum. Since both the earth and Saturn were rotating at the same time, it appeared as though Saturn was moving away from one end of the telescope to the other.

When we retired for the evening, we set our alarms for 4:30 am to catch the sunrise at 5:11. The sky was pitch black when the alarm went off. Still half asleep, we stumbled our way to the vista point, but the sky still didn’t look anywhere close to sunrise and we were the only two fools out there. When I turned off airplane mode on the iPhone to check email, the time suddenly changed from 4:50 am to 3:50 am. DOH! The phone was on airplane mode when we switched time zones! We could have slept for an extra hour. We both laughed at Justin's idiotic mistake and sat there shivering for another hour before everyone else started appearing with their cameras as the sun slowly rose. But watching the beautiful pink sunrise on the Grand Canyon was well worth it!

Next stop: Bryce Canyon. Over and out.

RV GRAND TOUR

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 18:18:00 +0000

Hey Campers! Here's the grand tour of Margaritaville.

Formal dining room and grand ball room - couch turns into a bed for 1 adult and dining chairs turn into a bed for 1 child or midget.

Spacious cab above the driver's seat can sleep 2 adults - just don't bump your head!

Kitchen with full pantry

Shower for those under 6'2

Full bathroom

Master bedroom in the back

RV DAY 5: MAJESTIC ZION

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 05:42:00 +0000

Greetings campers! It only took 5-10 million years and one Virgin River to carve out what is now known as Zion in the Colorado Plateau, a 130,000-square-mile mass of rock over 10,000 feet above sea level. This is by far the most breathtakingly beautiful and well maintained park I have ever stepped foot in (Yosemite doesn’t even hold a candle.)

Upon our arrival, we parked and bedded down the RV so we could go for a nice hike while there was still day light. Since it was already dusk, we settled for the easy Emerald Pools Trail instead of the 8-mile Angels Landing Trail. This trail leads you to three different emerald pools – lower, middle, and upper, but we found the pools to be more “swamp” green than “emerald” green. We returned just in time for sunset and dined in town at the Willie’s Saloon, gorging on possibly the best nachos we have ever had.

We camped for two nights at the Watchman Campground. There are only two campgrounds in the park: South Campground is first-come-first-serve while the Watchman allows for online reservations. I would highly recommend booking at least 3-4 weeks in advance if you plan on visiting in the summer. We reserved the very last camp site a month ago.

There are free shuttles that run every 15 minutes from 7am to 11pm, but trying to take pictures in a crowded moving bus with no AC through a small window crack is not conducive to fine photography. (Not that we know anything about fine photography – we have the shittiest camera money can buy; even Justin’s new iPhone takes better pictures.)

The best way to explore the park is definitely by bicycle, especially when the temperature reaches 100° F (who wants to hike in that?) Biking through the park is the perfect medium between hiking (too long) and taking the shuttle (too fast), allowing you to gaze in awe the grandeur of it all. The majestic rocks and mountains the color of red clay generously sprinkled with bright lime green trees against a backdrop of bluebird sky. It is as if pages from a storybook have come alive (even without any fungal intake.) All cyclists share the same paved road as the shuttle buses and cars, but the traffic was next to nil. We cruised from one end of the park starting at the Visitor Center to the other end at the Temple of Sinawava, stopping in the middle at the Zion Lodge to refuel and fill up our Camelbaks with natural spring water and then the Zion Natural History Museum to watch a 22-minute orientation movie (which I fell asleep).

Start your bike ride early in the day (as in no later than 11am) before it gets too hot. The first half of the 18-mile round-trip bike ride is a gradual uphill so you do have to work a little bit, but that just means your way back is an easy downhill with the cool breeze on your back. The only disaster that happened was towards the end when we were almost home. I was coming in hot and turned too fast onto a slippery bridge. I lost balance and fell on my right side, skidding 100 feet on my arm and leg (ok maybe not 100 feet but it sure felt like it). I was pretty badly bruised, so for the next few days, I had to take it easy and not go on any strenuous hikes.

Why is it that every time I start a new adventure with Justin, I always get injured? Case in point: I had to jump off a moving train once in India because we missed our Goa stop. I got up with bloody knees and hands only to find Justin staying on the train so he could get off at the next stop and taxi back to meet us. That sonuvabitch! I stopped licking my wounds as soon as we arrived in town at the Bumbleberry Inn and had a heaping serving of warm bumbleberry pie a la mode. Justin may be a sonuvabitch, but he sure knows the way to my heart!

Next stop: Grand Canyon (North Rim). Over and out.

RV DAY 3: HOW'S MY DRIVING? 1-800-F*CK-YOU

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 05:08:00 +0000

Hold on to your hats and nuts, campers! It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

Even though we bought Margaritaville six months ago and have already taken a few small road trips to Yosemite, Big Sur, and Tahoe, Justin has always been the only DD (designated driver). I have pushed off driving the 28-foot rig for as long as I can, but I can only pump Justin with so much caffeine and I am running out of excuses and feigned illnesses. (“I’m pregnant” or “I have anal leakage / syphilis / arthritis / gout / ” is just not cutting it.) Justin has become quite the trucker. He can handle Margaritaville better than I can maneuver a go cart, yet he is still making me drive this monster of a truck. Does he forget whom he married? ASIAN WOMEN CAN’T DRIVE! Just ask a black kid growing up in inner city Chicago raised by his single mother while his dad is in and out of jail. Being poor, black and male growing up in the hood, odds are doubly stacked against him to not lead a life of crime (just finished reading Freakonomics). Similarly, being Asian and female growing up in the burbs, odds are doubly stacked against me to drive such a massive vehicle and not hit trees and road signs that pop out of nowhere or run over animals or smaller cars that get in my way. What if I get pulled over and cited for DWA*?

Alas, as the clay-mation caricature of Kim Jong Il lamented in Team America, “It is inevijable!” The time has come for me to get behind the wheel. As we were driving through the Nevada approaching Area 51, Justin pulled over and made me switch to the driver’s seat. We reviewed some basics of RV driving and practiced making turns in the pull off using water bottles as cones. Then I drove off to the open road. Luckily, Route 375 aka Extraterrestrial Highway was about the straightest road in America. A couple of cows did cross the road in front of me, but I am happy to report that I did not make contact and the cows were unharmed. Driving an RV really wasn’t as horrifying as I thought it would be. I just had to be super alert and not be on auto-pilot or half asleep like I usually am when I drive. Even though Justin kept confirming that I was doing so well, he could not stop freaking out once in a while when there is a sharp turn or a pothole. There were a few times when I wanted to take the walkie-talkie and yell, “Dispatcher: Code XBD. Need backup to extricate a backseat driver.”

It was a hard day on the job; I clocked in three and a half hours and called it a day. We made it safely past Area 51 aka Dreamland, secret military testing site in Nevada not acknowledged by the government. Apart from a low flying black aircraft that disappeared into thin air and signs that say “Low Flying Aircraft” and side roads every 10 miles that looked like only authorized vehicles were allowed entry, nothing else unusual happened. We passed by the famous Black Mailbox, took a few pictures, and Justin resumed his driving responsibility making our way to Zion National Park. We plan to return to Area 51 on our way back to spend a night star gazing on the rooftop and hopefully get abducted by a UFO. Wouldn’t that be a great blog?

Next stop: Zion. Over and out.

*DWA: Driving While Asian

RV DAY 1: ALL ABOARD!

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 01:29:00 +0000

G’day campers! Get ready and get onboard our newly acquired RV, Margaritaville, for a summer road trip filled with misadventures with yours truly. Justin will be your master ‘n commander and I will be the first mate / sidekick as we navigate the western part of America (Grand Canyon, Jackson Hole, Yellowstone) up to Canada (Jasper, Banff, Vancouver) and back down (Seattle, Mt. Olympic, Oregon), culminating our trip at Burningman (look this up if you don’t know what it is).

Our first stop: Sacramento – Spanky’s Wine Bar Work Party

After weeks of planning, prepping, and packing, we handed over the house keys to the new tenant who will be subletting our place and drove the RV off to Sacramento. Spanky’s Wine Bar is the camp we belonged to at Burningman last year. There is an unofficial BM event next week called 4th of Juplaya, so our camp leader Admiral Painjoy organized a work party to build the bar and refurbish signs and structures from last year. We spent the day under the burning sun chopping / building / sanding / painting wood blocks for the bar. I also mended a rip on the bondage wall with my sewing kit (yes, there is a bondage wall – this is an S&M themed wine bar). My mother would be so proud if she knew that my sewing skills were being put to good use. Then we meticulously painted perfect script letters on each of the wood blocks so they spell “Spanky’s Wine Bar,” while Justin fixed the lights on the “Sorry We’re Open” sign. Even though we were sweaty and dirty, we accomplished quite a bit while having fun with fellow burners.

Well, what a great way to start off our summer as the Burningman theme will rear its ugly head throughout the trip. Like my frolleague* Nou says, leave it to white people to spend inordinate amounts of money to do manual labor (another example is paying to go cherry picking). We also have spent inordinate amounts of money to be homeless this summer. We spent last night in the parking lot of McDonald's in the town of Tonopah. What can you expect from a couple of hippies in yuppies clothing? Say goodbye to good hygiene, clean bathrooms, and style. Say hello to baby wipe showers, IBM**, fugly unflattering activewear from REI and Keens - lesbians’ shoe of choice.

Next stop: Zion via Area 51. Over and out.

*Frolleague: (n) a friend colleague; a colleague who frolics with you
**IBM: (n) acronym for irregular bowel movement – dirty public bathrooms scare my poop away while clean bathrooms give me performance anxiety

Australia: Toilet Matters

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 09:08:00 +0000

If toilet humour isn't for you, then I suggest you skip this entry dedicated entirely to the porcelain god. I'll start with this tidbit of background information: Australian toilets have a dual-flush system developed by Caroma as an effective measure to conserve water in a drought-ridden country. Use the "half flush" button (usually indicated by a half moon) when you go #1. Use the "full flush" button (full moon) when you go #2. This can save up to 67% of water usage by using an average of 3.8 litres of water per flush as opposed to the traditional 11 litres of water.

Now that you know how toilets in Australia work, I'll move on to why this topic became of interest. There seems to be a little problem with shitting at work as of late. Well, not me...One day at work I noticed a laminated poster in every bathroom stall, positioned strategically so that it is right at eye level when you are sitting down on the toilet. When I realised the poster gave directions on how to properly use a toilet, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. The pictures (see left) explicitly demonstrated the correct way of usage is to sit on the toilet seat - not squat on top of the toilet or next to the toilet. There have been complaints that people are squatting - leaving footprints on the toilet seat and/or "matter" on the floor. Fingers quickly pointed to new immigrants from South Asia, and I quickly reminded everyone I'm an American (or Canadian rather). A few of these posters have since been taken down - I'm assuming they were stolen as souvenirs. Hmm...not a bad idea. Maybe I should pilfer one myself so I can post it on our home bathroom wall for shits and giggles (pun intended).

Then last Friday I was told that someone allegedly defecated on someone else's desk. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, you ask? No, unfortunately not. Who? How? Why? How? In a corporate environment? Not to mention I work at The Bank, one of the big four "pillars" in Australia. Security initiated an investigation but who knows when or how that will be resolved. Can you imagine being that poor guy coming into work to find a pile of fecal matter on your desk - talk about having a crappy morning! What we can't figure out as spectators is whether or not the perpetrator did the deed directly on the desk or carried it from the bathroom.

And while we're on the topic, if you enjoy toilet humour as much as I do, you have to check out a very Australian movie called Kenny which I've heard is coming to America (or just download it). Kenny is a plumber and the entire movie centres around, well, toilets. Some parts are disgustingly graphic (as in spewing brown stuff) but it is laugh-out-loud hilarious; and I highly recommend watching it while not eating. You should also put subtitles on as the very thick Aussie accent may get lost in translation to the untrained American ear.

Aussie Word of the Day:
Dunny is Australian slang for toilet.
Example: Where's the dunny? I gotta go or there will be a yellow river running down my legs.

Australia: Life Lesson

noreply@blogger.com (Margaritaville) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 10:53:00 +0000

This past weekend I learnt a very important life lesson at the ripe old age of 30. Yamen and Jo came down from Sydney before tying the knot for a combined bucks/hens night (bachelor/bachelorette party). With Jimmy's help, I planned Friday night for the 10 of us starting with dinner in Chinatown followed by bowling then a pub before possibly ending up in a fine establishment with scantily-clad pole-dancing women known fondly as strippers.

What I planned and what I actually did were two different matters. To summarise what transgressed without going into all the gory details, there was a drinks event at work at 4 and I was having a great time getting my pre-party buzz. Next thing you know, it was 6 o'clock and my coworker said to me in disbelief, "Ev! You drank the entire bottle of champagne by yourself!" I looked at the empty bottle in one hand and an empty glass in the other and thought, "Holy shit!" I couldn't run to the bathroom fast enough where I threw up my party food and sat on the floor for god knows how long. When I finally mustered the strength to leave the confines of the bathroom, everyone had left the office party to continue with their Friday night plans. I successfully made it down the elevator without soiling it with my puke, but as soon as I got out of the building, I threw up on the street. I was walking and throwing up while trying to hail a cab and then throwing up some more while walking all the way to the train station where I threw up again. When I got home, I knew it was over. Fun Evan turned into a party pooping disgrace. Justin tried with all his might to get me out of bed but I just couldn't do it and made him go to our friends without me.

For the next 5 hours, I lied in bed for what seemed like an eternity in hell. I couldn't sleep at all, instead feeling the pain and rawness of my stomach and throwing up everything I drank and ate and then some a thousand times. Benny and Justin finally came home at 3 in the morning from the fun night that I planned. When Justin asked in bed in his drunken stupor how he can help, I begged softly, "Please don't talk, don't move, and don't touch me." He promptly agreed but actions spoke louder than words. Not only was he shaking the bed, rolling around, farting up a storm, and scratching his bum, but he proceeded to tell me, very loudly mind you, how much fun everyone had without me and how I am like a 17-year-old who can't hold her liquor and that no one dislikes me, while singing "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me!" He finally allowed me some peace and quiet by falling asleep and snoring away....That's the loving support I fully expected from my partner.

I miraculously fell asleep after a night of a violent reaction to alcohol poisoning and got up the next morning feeling less than ordinary but understanding Amy Winehouse a little better. Justin got me a bottle of vitamin water, appropriately named "Rehab." My friends forgave me, but not without giving me a lot of grief the rest of the weekend and a couple new nicknames - Spewy le Vom and Vom Vom. My coworkers on the following Monday morning were less kind, naming me Two Pot Screamer (Aussie expression for someone who gets drunk after two drinks) and Cadbury (means a glass and a half, referring to the Cadbury chocolate bar in the UK and Australia advertised as "a glass and a half of full cream milk in every pound"). The lesson here? Life is cruel when you do not know when to stop drinking. And know when to stop or you miss out on fun things with your friends because you're too busy throwing up.