Pinay Travel Junkie

Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca, Morocco: A Persian's Birthday

2012-05-04T20:12:00.012+08:00

As I munched my jaw-locking, uber chewy breakfast baguette in our characterless Casablanca hotel room, I mindlessly watched a steady morning stream of passersby from the balcony. I was thinking real hard. The room service guy looked vaguely familiar. I knew I saw that face recently somewhere...

Before I could recall, the hubby's voice tugged me off my spaced-out state. "I'm ready to go.", he announced in his usual apathetic tone. For a birthday celebrant, he didn't seem eager for a shindig. And I couldn't blame him. Morocco's February climate can be a shocker for a tourist who just flew from a sunny country in the Southern Hemisphere, say, Brazil.

Hassan II Mosque, one of the world's largest mosques.
Hubby put on his hoodie (which he bought the night before after realizing that he lost the jacket we purchased from Mexico) with doubt written on his face. It wasn't enough to keep him warm. I on the other hand, stuffed the tot's essentials in a teeny backpack that our daughter got as present from the owners of a guesthouse we stayed at in Lima, Peru.

Within a few minutes, we descended to the lobby. The awesome receptionist who sawed our broken luggage lock (I don't know how the heck he had a small saw handy, but he saved our day!) handed us a photocopied city map. We mumbled both merci and shukran, unsure which language to use because Moroccans mostly speak French when addressing foreign travelers. The bellman opened the door for us, then it hit me... The bellman and the room service guy is the same person! He just changed uniforms. Man, talk about multitasking.

And its minaret, the tallest in the world.
Our prime destination didn't seem distant on the map, so hubby and I agreed on walking all the way there. We reached the Old Medina without getting lost, but struggled finding streets that lead to the mosque because most of them are unlabeled or named differently.

We asked fellow pedestrians for directions, and all of them advised us to get a taxi. It's either we wandered too far off, or simply because they think we're insane doing a long distance stroll with a toddler in tow - without a baby stroller. Whatever it was, we were finally convinced to flag down a cab.

The celebrant.
A grand taxi (an old Mercedes model turned into a taxi, shared by random passengers plying a common route - works like the Pinoy "FX") picked us up and drove us to Hassan II Mosque or Le Mosque as locals call it. The ride didn't take long, which proved us right. The mosque ain't far at all, we merely got steered off-course.

The nippy Atlantic Ocean breeze greeted us as we got out of the grand taxi. I crossed the street without a care. Entranced. Hassan II Mosque swept me off my feet.

Brilliant Moroccan art.
This grandiose mosque named after former Moroccan king Hassan II is definitely a looker, and one of the only two (at least for me) must-visit places in Casablanca. Thousands of local artisans were hired to work on the mosque, and what's even more impressive is that some part of it is atop the Atlantic Sea (it actually sits on reclaimed land). An idea inspired by a Qur'an verse which states that Allah's throne is built on water.

It is dazzling from afar, and more so up close. We didn't bother asking if we could get in, and just sat somewhere near the entrance where we watched worshippers shuffle to and fro. Luna on the other hand, busied herself mingling with local kids.

Stared at the mosque's ceilings and arches with ze mouth wide open.
The Muslim-born birthday boy, looked his happiest though he was uhm, freezing. It may have been a simple celebration, but we were in one of our fave regions on Earth.

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Photo Essay: Golden Temple Of Dambulla, Sri Lanka

2012-04-30T17:49:00.013+08:00

Bright skies ahead, despite the heavy downpour in the wee hours. I savored the crisp morning breeze as our tuktuk, driven by a local named Wimala, dashed towards the bus terminal. I was afloat with an insane surge of energy, perhaps because I just showered away the last seventy-two transit hours. Yep, my last bath was five cities and three time zones ago.

We were to catch yet another suicidal bus ride to the Golden Temple of Dambulla. A UNESCO World Heritage Site cave temple complex that dates back to the 1st century BC. The cave's ceiling paintings were waiting to blow us away.

See how half of that day (in April last year) went before we rushed to our third Sri Lanka heritage site, Sigiriya. And before we were ripped off in a roadside cafeteria.

UNESCO World Heritage Site Golden Temple of Dambulla.
The Golden Buddha Statue.
Panoramic view of the surrounding plains.
Easy hike up.
No shoes beyond this point.
Pilgrims shuffling to and fro.
Waiting for the temple to reopen. For some reason, visitors were asked to leave and come back after fifteen minutes.
Yes, this monolithic Buddha fits inside the cave.
Well preserved paintings on the cave's ceiling.
Buddhas carved out of massive rocks.

Not-So Refreshingly Sri Lanka (and it's all my fault) Series:

Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka: Ruins Of An Ancient Capital
Temple of The Tooth
The Kandy House
Not-So Refreshingly Sri Lanka
How To Apply For A Sri Lanka Tourist Visa In The Philippines

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280 RTW Days... And Why We're Home So Soon.

2012-04-26T12:38:00.012+08:00

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family." ~ Anthony Brandt

It ended sooner than expected. Then again, who's really counting the days? Not us (but that counter on my sidebar is). And I bet my stenchy goat leather wallet from Morocco that you guys aren't counting either. You most definitely lost track of our trail weeks ago anyway. Or, since day 200.

Yes, at some point we intended (and attempted) to do a yearlong round-the-world trip, but nothing was concretely planned. Not the destinations, not even the dates. "Any way the wind blows" as that Queen song says.

We had the time of our lives, no doubt. And perhaps you're asking, why the heck did we fly home on day 280?

Aboard a connecting TAP flight from Lisbon, Portugal to Casablanca, Morocco. Contemplating about a conversation with an Israeli.
Let me take you back three months ago when we were thousands of feet above ground, on board a TAP flight en route from Salvador da Bahia, Brazil to Lisbon, Portugal. Hubby and I were close to tears, secretly laughing at a fellow passenger who looked like Santa Claus (beard and all) on a holiday (clad in board shorts). An Israeli woman in her fifties who was on the aisle seat beside Shervin interrupted us, "Your daughter is beautiful!".

Her remark sparked a lengthy and engaging conversation about the highs and lows of traveling with children. She's a grandma, and an occasional drifter. One of her statements hit me real hard: "If I was Luna's grandmother, I will be angry at you for being away."

I imagined my mom right that very moment. Spending her days taking care of dogs and watching soap operas... Without her two daughters who left the country to chase their dreams. Without her only grand daughter she's yearning to embrace, and smooch, and parade in front of the neighbors. It dawned on me that I got too caught up racing against time and ticking destinations off my travel bucket list. My remaining life may be short to see and experience the whole world, but my parents have fewer years left.

At Lisbon Portela Airport in Portugal, whilst waiting for our flight to Morocco, I seriously considered going home for the first time. After nine months of vagabonding around the world I thought to myself, I am still a Filipino through and through.

Clockwise from top left: Three Sisters rock formation (Australia), Golden Gate Bridge (U.S.A.), Machu Picchu (Peru), Chichen Itza (Mexico).

Clockwise from top left: Christ The Redeemer (Brazil), Sahara Desert (Morocco), Puerto Galera (Philippines), and uhm... Toast Box (Singapore)
Although our trip didn't last a year, I reckon we've achieved our goal of circumnavigating the Earth after meeting these four conditions I fished off the book Grounded: A Down To Earth Journey Around The World by Seth Stevenson:

1. Start and finish at the same place.
2. Cross all longitudinal meridians going in the same direction.
3. Cross the equator.
4. Cover at least twenty-five thousand miles - the length of a great circle around the Earth.

Another condition is to "touch two antipodal points", which for the life of me I can't seem to fathom, so I'm... Err... Ignoring that.

This is such an epic fulfillment for us (I just couldn't say it enough), not only because we had dreamt about it for years, but obviously because we did it with our one year old daughter Luna. So what's next after this? Definitely not purchasing a house yet. Perhaps a second RTW with another tot. But that could happen in the very distant future too. Okay, let me think about it and I'll get back to you.

Now excuse me while I catch up with family and eat this pinakbet like there's no tomorrow. Meanwhile, you could Google "antipodal points".

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The Three Sisters, Blue Mountains, Australia: Pre-Birthday Hiking Shindig

2012-04-16T13:43:00.014+08:00

I've lost that adventure feeling on a multitude of occasions during our round-the-world trip. It mostly occurred when we're shacked somewhere for a significant period of time. Especially in the course of winter. Such is the case whilst we were couchsurfing (or make that bedsurfing) in my mum-in-law's Sydney home. The hubby's visa application for U.S., the next country on our list, took forever. And we chose to let our arses stay put for we were unwilling to burn our funds on pricey Oz road trips.

We became slothful and stagnant.

The Three Sisters rock formation.
So to reignite the adventure flame, we plotted a two-day jaunt in New South Wales' Blue Mountains, a region famous for breathtaking highland vistas and scenic bushwalk trails. A vast part of it, the Greater Blue Mountains area, is a World Heritage Site. Inscribed so for the "outstanding universal value" of its eucalypt vegetation. It had been the home of the Gundangara people for several millenia.

Organic cafes and thrift shops lined up along Katoomba Street, Katoomba.
The main town where tourists usually start off their respective walkabouts is Katoomba, just an hour and a half drive from Sydney via private vehicle (a couple of hours by train). Despite its proximity to our hood, we opted for an overnight getaway instead of a quickie day trip. It was one of our rare splurge events. Like, yah know, my birthday. After a not-so-big-plus-terrifying-three-oh the previous year (I was then counting down the days 'til the delivery of our daughter), the hubby granted my wish to see Blue Mountains on day 71 of our family vagabonding.

Echo Point lookout.
At about two in the afternoon, we arrived at our booked accommodation, Katoomba Mountain Lodge. A beat up, borrowed car we named Gumby brought us there without any hassle. After checking in, we merely dumped our luggage in the cozy double room assigned to us then headed out for late lunch. Because it was my call, we had Chinese.

Paved trail to the Three Sisters.
With only a few hours left of sunshine, we hurriedly left our unfinished meals at a place called Three Sisters B.B.Q. Restaurant, and drove to Echo Point lookout under the direction of our moody yet trusty GPS device. It wasn't as packed as we expected, and searching for a nearby parking space didn't take long. We spent no time idling. We strode towards the lookout platform and skirted it for an unobstructed view of Jamison Valley.

Arch at the top of the Giant Stairway.
The postcardesque scene of a massive blue haze enveloping the sandstone plateaus made my heart... Cheesiness ahead... Skip a beat. Yes folks, it's called Blue Mountains for a very obvious reason. Its blue tinge is an outcome of mie scattering - an explanation of which may bore you out of your wits but just to give you an idea, it's got something to do with ultraviolet radiation and the abundancy of eucalypt trees in the area.

Giant Stairway steep descent.
It's a dream of mine to do bushwalking along Federal Pass, a trail on the base of the cliffs in the valley. Unfortunately, it was not the right time to fulfill such dream for we were lugging our eleven-month old crawler. So we decided to just do an easy hike to the Three Sister rock formation. From the lookout, we walked to the Information Centre and followed a paved path that led us to the arch atop the Giant Stairway. A sign bears a warning: VERY STEEP - STRONG WALKERS ONLY.

The only accessible sister.
Mind you, it ain't a joke. The stairway is insanely steep and dizzying. We reached one of the Three Sisters unscathed and were greeted by fellow hiking parents with two kids in tow, one of whom is tucked in a baby carrier. The mum happily offered to take a snapshot of us. After which they descended further and never returned. I wondered if they pushed on to accomplish the Federal Pass trek. You see, we aren't the only crazy 'rents on Earth.

Sorry adventure junkies, climbing and abseiling are not allowed.
Legend has it that three sisters of the Katoomba tribe were turned into stone by an elder to protect them from being captured by the three men of a neighboring tribe whom they fell in love with. Marriage between them was forbidden. Slumped on the bench, I thought, such dreary story behind a stunning rock formation.

The iconic Three Sisters is just one of the main attractions of Blue Mountains. And our hike that day's just half of my awesome birthday shindig. The next day on my actual 31st, we rode the steepest incline railway in the world and visited a toy with a vast collection of Barbie dolls (faint!). Now didn't I say it was awesome?

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Huaca Pucllana, Lima, Peru: The Ruins And A Red Balloon

2012-04-06T22:44:00.003+08:00

A map in one hand, and a red balloon in the other. I led the way. Hubby lumbered by my side with our daughter in his arms. The stroll from Parque Kennedy where we had lunch (and snatched that free balloon) at some pollo a la brasa resto took twenty minutes. It could have been quicker if only the streets on this side of Lima's Miraflores District is clearly labeled.

We were cooped up for five days in our charming b&b room and I was itching to see what such affluent area has to offer beyond its swanky malls and awesome ceviche restaurants.

Huaca Pucllana in the heart of Miraflores, Peru.
We reached Huaca Pucllana's entrance at two in the afternoon. It was devoid of tourists. After paying 10 soles (almost $4) each for admission, we entered as one of the guides called out to us, "Buenas tardes! Spanish or English?". We initially ignored him for we usually prefer to wander at our own pace, but his persistent questioning made us finally mutter "English". He explained that us visitors are allowed to explore by ourselves, but won't be able to access several areas without a guide. Hence we agreed to join the guided tour. And well, he dropped the magic words "no extra fee".

Guided tour at no extra cost.
Tourists trickled in, and our party of nine was formed in quarter of an hour. Our guide directed us onto a wooden platform where he began his lecture. I gazed around the ruins. From where I stood, the archaeological site looked more capacious than I thought, and the pyramids seemed more imposing. Huaca Pucllana, Lima culture's old administrative headuarters and ceremonial center, was constructed around 500 AD with walls made from locally sourced adobe. Such material may not be the best option for an earthquake prone country, but Limeños devised a system on how to make it work.

Peering closely at the brilliantly engineered adobe walls.
The walls weren't built out of massive adobe slabs, instead, they consist of adobe bricks piled like dominoes and glued together by clay laid on top. The space between each brick cushions the earthquake's impact. As a result, each wall dances to the ground's trembling. An equally important factor that makes these structures sturdy is their pyramidal design. And by the way, it rarely rains in Lima, just to clear that picture of a melting wall you're envisioning in your head.

An area believed to be the ceremonial square.
From the platform, we moved on to the ceremonial square. Archaeologists believe that women were sacrificed here. And nope, not virgins, but mothers (based on the pelvic anatomy of excavated remains). Limeños during that time considered being sacrificed as an honor. I cringed at the thought and clutched our daughter tighter than usual. Was it for a bountiful harvest? Skipped that part. I scuttled away from the spot.

Atop the pyramid. Yep, we still had the balloon.
Our group then hiked up the pyramids, where we had a 360 view of the surrounding residential neighborhood. Man, how cool is it to see such ancient ruins every morning from your patio while sipping your cup of brew? Priceless, I reckon. Oh. Speaking of which, we saw a bunch of tourists doing so at the in-house restaurant. Next best thing, ei?

Depicting Wari culture's bundled mummies.
The guide pointed at the smaller walled sections of the site just beside the wooden platform which we didn't notice earlier. He said they could have been offices or even personal rooms of priests who governed the community. I wondered out loud, "How about the roofing?". "Local bamboo.", the guide promptly replied.

A pyramid's two faces, the restored and the ruined.
Besides the panoramic vista and models of Wari bundled mummies, atop the view point we saw the more deteriorated part of the pyramids, which looked more like an abandoned construction site than some significant ancient ruins. Here, we cautiously descended, then proceeded to the rear area of the complex where a few of Peru's endemic animals are caged. Alpaca, llama, and guinea pigs (all three are eaten in this country - excuse me while I shudder).

Balancing a baby and a balloon, inching my way down the pyramid.
On the way out, we passed by life-size statues that demonstrate how locals made adobe bricks. We briefly browsed the small museum as well. The souvenir shop for me ain't worth the look unless you feel like paying more for merchandise that are cheaply priced elsewhere. Dining in at the highly acclaimed Restaurant Huaca Pucllana would have been a great way to cap off our visit, but we weren't up for shelling out $10-15 each for a meal. We had a rad time nonetheless.

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Photo Essay: National Museum of Anthropology (Museo Nacional de Antropología), Mexico City

2012-04-02T04:18:00.015+08:00

If your adrenaline junkie soul reckons museum ambling is a bore, this one might spark your interest for it could literally keep you on your toes. Spread across an area of more than seven hectares, with multiple exhibition halls, National Museum of Anthropology could easily burn your whole day. But if you intend to do a quick lap, spare a couple of hours like we did.

The museum's collection is insanely vast. So vast that we couldn't believe there are more artifacts distributed to other museums in Mexico and overseas. We left the museum awestruck, and infatuated with Mesoamérica.

Aztec Piedra del Sol or Stone Of The Sun, one of the museum's highlights.
A modest main entrance.
Model of Cueva de las Ventanas (Cave of the Windows), old Mesoamérican cliff dwellings, showcased in the Culturas Del Norte exhibit hall.
Old footwear that reminded me of the Ivatans' (natives of Batanes, Philippines) local slippers.
A mural in Sala Maya that depicts the life of Mayans.
Monolitic Olmec head found in Tabasco.
Rings for a Mesoamerican ball game aka Sports For The Suicidal. Rule: Team captain of the losing team is beheaded.
La Conquista Europea De Mexico-Tenochtitlan.

How's that for a quickie virtual tour? If you're visiting the country, start your trip here for a crash course in Mexico's cultural history. Museum is open from 9:00 AM to 7:00 PM, Tuesday to Sunday. Admission fee is 51 Mexican pesos. To get there, simply take the metro. Nearest station is Auditorio.

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Couchsurfing For Families: As Awesome As It Gets

2012-03-29T09:23:00.010+08:00

This seriously made my eyes well up.

Couchsurfing.org's latest video (view previous videos here) focuses on a rarer breed of couchsurfers: The couchsurfing families. I drowned in the abyss of mushiness after listening to the sentiments of our spiritual comrades. Today, I shall let them do the talking for me.

Watch to find out how Couchsurfing paved the way for us to see the world in a whole different prism, together as families. Also, uhm, spot our daughter throwing a tantrum on cam.

Ever couchsurfed as a family? Share us your story!

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Cabo Frio, Brazil Holidays: That Thong-Tho-Thong

2012-03-18T03:42:00.011+08:00

I briefly caught a glimpse of Christ The Redeemer, action figure sized, atop Corcovado mountain as our cab (which we snagged from the airport) careened through Brazil's hectic streets. Hubby and I sat quietly, baffled, still wondering how we got business class seats instead of the usual economy on our Lima-Rio De Janeiro flight. We were hurtling towards Rodoviária Novo Rio, Rio De Janeiro's interstate and international bus terminal, to catch a bus bound for our first destination in the country. Cabo Frio.

Forte Beach can kick Ipanema's arse!
Despite the snail pace traffic here and there, we reached the station in twenty five minutes. Brazil welcomed us with a drizzle, to our dismay. It was summer for crying out loud. The cab driver swiftly unloaded his trunk while I sprinted to the entrance, shielding our daughter Luna from the rain. Hubby single-handedly dragged three backpacks and one roller bag along puddles of murky water and left behind an annoyed driver who was expecting for a tip. Sorry Mr. Driver, the $30 cab ride downgraded our lunch from a churrasco meal to a street sold hotdog in a bun.

A lifeguard post manned by tan, oiled, hunky Brazilians.
We purchased our tickets for $20 each (pricey amount for a three-hour journey) and quickly headed to the departure area. Our bus was about to leave in fifteen minutes. After a sleepless red-eye flight we were happy to finally board, even though Luna didn't look dozy enough for a nap. We wanted to break away from hectic Rio De Janeiro as soon as possible, and we reckon getting acquainted with Brazil in a quaint setup will avert a rocky start.

Seriously played beach football. Steer away!
The bus dropped us off Cabo Frio's main bus station. Uncrowded, just the way we like it. We didn't have to jostle our way through a mosh pit of touts, in fact, we had a hard time finding a cab driver who'd take us to our hostel. And when we did, we were asked to pay a cheap rate. A fifteen-minute ride brought us to our accommodation, Central Hostel. We were greeted by a receptionist who didn't speak a single English word, hence we sorted out our accommodation through elaborate pantomiming which the receptionist gamely reciprocated. I actually memorized a bunch of handy Portuguese phrases, but unlike Spanish, I couldn't make out the words when spoken by Brazilians (it must be that drunken slur accent).

About to surf the afternoon waves.
Our stomachs growled as we whiffed what's left of that morn's free buffet brekkie for guests. Our famished selves couldn't wait any longer. We merely dropped our luggage in the room and headed out, passing by the receptionist who hand-gestured the location of the beach and nearby restaurants. Our search for cheap street food led us to Cabo Frio's Forte Beach, locally called Praia Do Forte.

Order $17 worth of food and drinks, and you can hire one of these umbrellas.
I'm usually not drawn to crowded beaches but Brazil's coast is an exception. Here, beach life in itself is a different kind of culture. And people watching is an activity that's favored over any other water sport. Besides, Forte Beach's sand is powdery and blinding white. I couldn't resist the temptation of wriggling my toes in. That Sunday noon, all for-hire umbrellas were taken. And tons of weekenders who anticipated this lugged their own umbrellas and chairs (worth the hassle since they laze on the beach for hours and hours and hours).

Submitting to the sea. This stubborn tot never looked back. Not even once.
More people were on the shore than in the water, beer in hand (no SLR in the other), just watching the day go by. Occasionally calling out to peddlers selling seafood snacks. Even with the fierce sun heaps of locals slather their bods with oil instead of sunscreen, cause it looks uhm, hot. Men proudly wore trunks, and their muscles flexed with every little thing they did. And yes, women in various shapes and sizes modeled Brazil's renowned thong bikini. I could see why the country's perfect for singles holidays.

Pardon the title if you actually expected thong photos here.
We felt overdressed in our shorts and singlets. But we didn't feel the need to rush back at the hostel to change in our swimmers, because we were to stay there for four days. The Atlantic Ocean can wait. First order of business was beer. And so was the second and third. We totally forgot about lunch.

How to get to Cabo Frio from Rio De Janeiro:

Buses bound for Cabo Frio depart at Rodoviária Novo Rio. Tickets may be purchased at the station, schedule of trips available on this site (you could also buy tickets here). If you're coming from the airport, a cab ride is about $30. There are no direct buses from the airport to Novo Rio.

Trip from Rio De Janeiro to Cabo Frio takes 2-3 hours. Ask the driver to drop you off at Cabo Frio's bus terminal. There's a cab queue just outside. From the terminal it's a 15-20 minute ride to the municipality's center. If meter's not used, $5-7 is a reasonable price to pay.

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The Evolution Of A Pinay Travel Junkie

2012-03-13T05:19:00.017+08:00

How long have you been around? Long enough to sniff that what's mostly penned here is about this awesome thing called world, and rarely about the deep sentiments of that Pinay travel junkie who inches her way around it? Perhaps you don't give a damn, and well, I don't either. But you see, 265 days into our round-the-world trip, I'm feeling rather nostalgic. Bordering emo. Recently, for four days we traipsed around quaint Moroccan desert towns - With no status updates. No Tweets. Just the barren expanse and our thoughts.

I felt pure mirth. And contentment.

"If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?" ~ Milton Berle (Sahara Desert, Morocco)
"You're living THE life!", some people remarked on our social networking accounts. At least, an ideal life for a vagabond. Probably we really are, but I assure you we've earned it the hard way. Every phase of my earlier backpacking years led me to where I am now. All the travel mishaps and heartbreaks molded me into a tougher backpacker chick who's ready to take on the world.

Join me on my jaunt down memory lane and you'll see how.

Clueless

When I was in college, a nasty split made me sign up for the outdoor organization. It's something I was long deprived of, because the ex disapproved. Yes, back then I followed commands. But soon after I was unleashed from my longest exclusive-dating relationship ever, I followed my heart.

Doing the "connection cave" in Sagada about a decade ago. A joe hot on my trail. Must be those denim shorts.
With borrowed hiking sandals and a borrowed backpack (plus P1,500 in my pocket) I invited myself to their Sagada trip. They welcomed me with open arms, and introduced to me the muddy yet awesome world of trekking. I got acquainted with my adventurous side. Also, I garnered a new set of unpretentious pals... And a foreign admirer.

Dazed And Confused

It was sort of my rock n' roll era. I was in my early 20s, and the beach to me was synonymous to swimming in copious amounts of alcohol, not swimming in the sea. I used to visit party central Puerto Galera on every vacation leave, and sometimes even on an ordinary weekend.

A gazillion Mindoro Slings after, almost passing out on the sand. With strangers who became my friends, most of whom are now globe trotters too.
Evenings were spent bootyshakin' with trannies or skanking with dreadheads by the reggae bar. Or swaying to djembe beats in front of the bonfire. Whatever it was, sure as hell I'd end up heavily inebriated. I had ugly nightcaps that consisted of toilet hugs and/or bar fights. Don't get me wrong, I still consider those the good ol' untroubled days but I hated the feeling of emptiness I had every time I was home bound. I longed for... Cheesiness ahead... A more meaningful life.

Soul Searched

Like a junkie who submitted to rehab, I was admitted to a new outdoor group whose members were weekday yuppies and weekend nomads. All of whom, except one, I met for the first time on their Maricaban Island camping trip. I had a royal welcome, meaning, I was provided a tent just for myself.

Once more, I surrounded myself with people who sought refuge in the mountains and on remote beaches. Maricaban Island, Batangas.
I fell in love with nature more than ever. I reclaimed inner peace, which I kept in my grasp during trips thereafter. My unsatisfiable hunger for new experiences forced me out of my comfort zone, and I eventually morphed into the suicidal solo backpacker.

Room For Two

The solo backpacking period was short-lived for I found a possessive backpacking buddy. And this buddy became my fiance after he said yes to the theatrical marriage proposal I did on stage a now defunct famous reggae joint in the Philippines. That guy was the admirer who followed me around Sagada five years back (yep, that's why I'm covering that pretty face).

My fave hangout, park across Rijksmuseum.
I followed him to the Netherlands where he resides to meet his folks and see his world. It was my first time to travel overseas, and I experienced culture shock in a good way. The trip sparked my interest in visiting other foreign lands and immersing in different cultures. It also shattered my engagement into pieces.

Modern Day Hobo

I came. I saw. I conquered. I got broke.

Approaching my thirties, I was still working odd jobs, just long enough to fund the next trip within my home country. But when I craved for journeys to distant countries that require long-haul flights, I tried my luck being an overseas Filipino worker. It was the only way to finance my vice.

Abu Dhabi Heritage Village, making the most out of my one day per week off.
I worked as a receptionist for a hotel in U.A.E. and lived in a house with fellow Pinay workers. While I saved up my salary for the round-the-world trip I was planning that time, they sent most of theirs to families back home. I sent cash to my 'rents too, but not as much as they did. It was a humbling experience.

It was also in the desert that I met my sole mate. I gave romance on the road another try. We simultaneously quit our jobs to do backpacking together in Southeast Asia. Consequently I shelved my solo RTW plan.

That Excess Emotional Baggage

Within just nine months of dating, my sole mate proposed. We got hitched a little over three months of engagement, and I got knocked up just weeks into our married life. It was a darn frenetic year. And along the way, I realized my spirit was no longer free. Though it ain't chained either. More like, grounded.

Luna, our little globe crawler. It's her turn now. New South Wales, Australia.
Because I couldn't (and will never ever) give up backpacking, we traveled with our newborn in tow. But as you could imagine, our needs have evolved. There may be certain restrictions when traveling with a baby, but there are valuable lessons us parents learn as well during this process.

Freedom, turn here -> Travel (Walk this way and you'll never be the same again.)
Like selflessness. Let me tell you, the joy we see in our daughter's eyes is simply... As that credit card ad goes... Priceless. I am now a full-blown backpacking mum. And though I lost a part of my carefree self, I don't really mind. Because in retrospect, I lived and am still living an awesome life. Travel made me an accomplished person (at least to my standards) I never thought I'd become, and it taught me finally what a meaningful life is.

This is Pinay Travel Junkie's entry to the Pinoy Travel Bloggers' March 2012 Blog Carnival themed "Leap of Faith: When Travelling Changed My Life".

To be hosted by Reiza of Wander If You Must.

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Marriott Santa Clara Means Business

2012-03-06T03:26:00.012+08:00

Our hired car finally parked to rest after hours of driving from Los Angeles to Santa Clara (with an unexpected sightseeing detour that involved spying on lazing seals on the beach). I hopped off the car to stretch my weary bones. Luna had been whinging most of the ride, and I was totally drained from hushing her all throughout. She absolutely despised being strapped in the baby car seat.

Marriott Santa Clara's spacious lounge.
It was mid-spring last year when the hubby and I, with our seven month-old daughter in tow, flew to U.S. for a business trip and an interview that paved the way for fulfilling our dream of doing a round-the-world trip. Since it was an official business trip our plane tickets, car rental and accommodation were paid for. Hence we chose a nonstop flight from the Philippines, a Ford with a sunroof, and a room in Marriott Santa Clara Hotel.

Hotel's main entrance, as viewed from our room's balcony.
Abusive it may seem, how we basked in sponsored luxury, but you see... Ford Focus is not the poshest model in the market even if it has that awesome sunroof. And you may be surprised to know that Marriott Santa Clara offers rooms for a little over a hundred bucks per night. Definitely not synonymous to high rollin' in North America.

One of ze best beds I've ever laid my arse on.
After a swift check in, we dumped our luggage onto the trolley and dragged it ourselves to the lift. It had been a long day, even a dingy highway hotel room could have sufficed to satisfy our basic needs. But good karma (or so I consider it) provided us something that's way more than our usual accommodation.

Listen up fellow 'rents, they got baby cots for the tots! Which by the way, Luna didn't really use. Pfft.
Opening the door was a hallelujah moment. Because of the hotel's proximity to Silicon Valley's big companies, the room screams business. Its minimalist design showcases a few modern pieces like framed monochrome photographs and sleek furniture. The mood's set by lighting that resembles some of meyda tiffany lamps lighting.

Bare wall embellished with framed snapshots.
The bedside alarm clock-slash-radio-slash-snoozer was waiting to be tinkered, and the coffee machine was ready to brew. An office desk sat in the corner. The immaculately clean bathroom, supplied with branded toiletries and accentuated by dramatic bathroom lighting fixtures, lured us... But a shower had to wait for we were to meet long lost relatives that eve before hitting the sack.

Reunited with relatives at the hotel's Characters Sports Bar & Grill.
We initially planned to stay just for a night cause we'll be heading to Sacramento to meet more relatives from the hubby's side. This itinerary however, changed once we entered our room. A decision reinforced by the marvelous buffet brekkie we had the next day. Yes, the brekkie made us extend another night. It was after all, going to be covered by the company as well. Couldn't let that extra night go to waste!

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Madurai, India: Thirumalai Nayak Palace

2012-02-23T07:51:00.017+08:00

"Kling kling dance! Kling kling dance!", an elderly Indian woman raised her hand brimming with silver jewelry into our sightline, referring to the anklets with bell charms that she was selling - a common (if not compulsory) ladies' accessory in India. I muffled my chuckle with a sarong and motioned for her to come closer.

I surveyed her merchandise while she buckled several varieties of kling kling dance around my ankles. Our travel buddies for that day, Couchsurfers Thea and Camilla from Denmark, refused to be embellished with silverware and merely watched my leg turn into a mobile mannequin right before their eyes.

Thirumalai Nayak Palace's courtyard, where regular performances are staged.
Though extremely cheap at 20 INR, I only bought a piece to stick to our budget for the day. It took a while to brush off the persistent peddler for she was pushing another anklet on a hard sell (I realized days after during our Tiruchirapalli Rock Fort visit that it is imperative to have on both ankles, which I'll explain on another post). She seemed upset, but pasted a red bindi on my forehead as a freebie before scurrying away.

Hubby and I followed the two Danes who led the way to Thirumalai Nayak Palace's ticket booth to pay for admission: Foreign adults 50 INR, still camera 30 INR. There was no queue, but we waited for about half an hour for the lone attendant who came from an unannounced, extended lunch break.

Freebie bindi, sitting on my sixth chakra.
The palace's gate opens out to its capacious courtyard that's utilized for light & sound shows and other performances. This was actually the only section our group was able to see due to time constraints. And well, because a foreign traveler's maundering within the palace grounds (or in any tourist site in India for that matter) is no walk in the park.

Unless you're a celebrity whose walk in the park usually involves being photographed by paparazzis. Ours surely don't.

Because more and more people squeezed in the frame, we ended up with an awkward group shot like this. And a gazillion others.
The mere presence of the Barbie-esque Dane sprung forth a commotion among the local men. Just as we entered the gates, we were photographed here and there. From a distance, and in our faces. We felt like stars who just walked onto the red carpet. I suppressed the urge to do a beauty queen wave, for no one will get the joke. And they'll probably wave back.

We managed to duck out for a few minutes behind the cloisters, where we finally had the chance to amble peacefully by ourselves. So peaceful that I heard the teeny-weeny chimes of my kling kling dance.

My stares of admiration resulted to a stiff neck.
Thirumalai Nayak Palace, constructed in 1636 AD, served as King Thirumalai Nayak's home. Obviously this ain't something you could call a humble abode. Fact is, the king intended it to be one of - if not the most grandiose palace in South India. I must say... Job well done, your highness. Same goes to you, anonymous Italian architect.

I shielded my eyes from the blinding sun's rays as I looked up the marvelously carved and painted ceilings. The intermingling of Islamic and Dravidian architecture produced such stellar progeny.

Locals whiling away the lazy afternoon at their fave, fantabulous hang out.
Just as we emerged from the cloisters, a fresh batch of curious local tourists surrounded us for snapshots. Unanimously, we were no longer game for it. We all scampered towards the exit and left them bobbling their heads in bewilderment and confusion.

Amidst the noise, my kling kling dance's bell charms echoed across the courtyard. That impressive lil thang.

Thank You, India Series:

Madurai, India: Meenakshi Amman Temple
Aboard India's Modes of Transport
Arrival Turned Fans Day
Thank You, India
How To Apply For An India Tourist Visa In The Philippines

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El Zaguan B&B, Lima, Peru

2012-02-16T06:46:00.009+08:00

We scanned the white boards hovering above a mosh pit of cab drivers and hotel representatives just outside the arrivals of Aeropuerto Internacional Jorge Chávez. Ours was held by a man named Javier. A hundred percent Peruvian, Jacki Chan lookalike, Mr. Congeniality. He ushered us to his taxi after paying for the parking ticket. As he dumped our bags in the trunk, he smiled and said "Welcome to Peru! Sit. Lock your doors!".

The "lock your doors" part wasn't really necessary for it wasn't like a drive through the slums. It was in fact a cruise along the more affluent districts of Lima. No beggars knocked on our windows, nor were there peddlers who harassed us to buy their wares. It was a nice gesture from Javier nonetheless.

Outdoor roofed patio adjacent to our room in El Zaguan B&B.
Until that day, we had never been picked up by a service arranged through a B&B we booked (heck, we had never booked accommodations until this round-the-world trip with our baby). That was one of the main reasons why we chose B&B Tradiciones, they offer free airport pick up for reservations of private rooms with a period of three days or more. It's a wee bit pricier than the other hostels and B&Bs in Miraflores but at least it's located in a safe neighborhood and the owners speak English.

So you could imagine how we enjoyed Javier's company, and how thrilled we were to hear his honest recommendations (even though he himself hasn't been to the destinations he suggested). His description of Peru's famed ceviche made us salivate.

Waking up to this view jump starts a good morning.
Half an hour later we arrived at B&B Tradiciones, only to be told by the owner that the room they reserved for us is too small for a family of three and that they're taking us to another B&B two blocks away. You see, I rarely indicate that we share a room with a toddler whenever I do the booking for I know I'll be bombarded with follow up questions: Do you need two separate beds? Do you need a baby cot/crib? There will be an extra charge, is that okay with you? Yadda yadda yadda.

We wanted to ask the owner if we could see the room and assess the space ourselves yet we submitted to his assumption. We wordlessly boarded Javier's cab once more with the owner and headed to El Zaguan B&B. Like B&B Tradiciones, it didn't have a signage outside the building. A smiley guy receptionist greeted us by the entrance. I heaved a sigh of relief as we entered the living room. Every corner of it is charming!

Pocket garden in front of our room.
The receptionist led us to the lone room on the first floor. We took it straight away even if we had not seen the other room on the upper floor because of the outdoor patio adjacent to it. And because it's the only guest room on the floor, we thought we wouldn't have to worry about Luna disturbing other snoozers in the wee hours with her wails for milk.

We bid goodbye to B&B Tradiciones' owner and settled in. The room has twin beds and a telly but uhm, no fan. Sure it was an unusually chilly summer, but hey, it's still summer. Perhaps they got fans available upon request but we didn't bother to ask. It was never sizzling hot indoors anyways. At least, during our stay.

Living room.
Our initial three-day stay was unexpectedly extended to six because of hubby's and daughter's visa application for Brazil. We opted not to transfer for we simply loved our nook! It's spacious, adjacent to an outdoor patio (which is actually a common area but no one ever hung out there) that we had to ourselves, and has a pocket garden by the doorway. Room was cleaned every day, and a decent breakfast was served from 6 to 11 AM which is awesome for late risers like us. More importantly they got Wi-Fi, a necessity for us digital nomads.

What we weren't too happy about: Nonexistent fan, door buzzer system (a hassle if you come in late from a night out), and the blood pressure-raising $40 rate per night for a double room. It ain't cheap, but it's the standard rate amongst accommodations within the area. Despite these rants of ours, we'd still recommend it to fellow travelers. Especially the kind who's on a holiday... Or the jaded, long-term backpacker who's on a once in a blue moon splurge.

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Valentine's Day Guest Post: Travelling With Pinay Travel Junkie And Our Baby

2012-02-14T14:25:00.023+08:00

A surprise guest post by Pinay Travel Junkie's backpacking buddy-slash-life partner. A post he wrote while I was slumbering and while he was doing an all-nighter watch on our sick daughter. Something he was able to do for my Blogger's constantly logged on... I obviously just added this part after he published the article.

Isla Cantuta floating Island, Lake Titicaca (at 3,800 meters above sea level), Peru. One of the few family photos (with all three of us) we got for this round-the-world trip.
Firstly to my wife Gay, I'd like to say Happy Valentines Day! We're in the middle of our big round-the-world trip with our 16 months old baby, which kinda started in Australia for 5 months (where I grew up) then went to USA for 1 month (San Francisco), Mexico for 1 month (Mexico City, Puebla, Oaxaca, Merida, Palenque & Cancun), Peru for 1 month (Lima, Paracas, Nasca, Arequipa, Puno, Cusco), and now Brazil (currently in Cabo Frio). It's definitely been a hectic journey, travelling long-term as both a couple and with a baby! It goes without saying that it's been difficult in many occasions and amazing in many more occasions!

Back in 2009 we already backpacked South-East Asia on a shoestring as a couple, which pushed us to our limits (mainly due to bed bugs from Borneo!), but we endured it together and came out with great experiences, and it was during that trip that I realized that if we can handle an intense 6-week backpacking trip together then we can handle almost anything! So that was when I decided I truly wanted to marry Gay and spend the rest of my life with her, and several months later I did propose to her and for some reason she said yes!

Unfortunately, we were really exhausted from that trip, and 3 years later we still haven't had much chance to relax since then! First we had a very rushed wedding within 3 months because the peak wedding season was about to start, and between the wedding and our honeymoon we used up pretty much all our money. Then within weeks after getting hitched we found out she was pregnant, and we went through 9 months of her pregnancy amidst family stresses while I also got an RSI injury from overworking, all of which resulted in us becoming really exhausted, and barely getting a few hours sleep each night.

Then our baby Luna was born, and we literally survived on roughly 1-hour sleep each night for several months, that REALLY pushed us to our limits! Plus we went through months of constant stress to arrange Gay's visa to Australia, and because of visa delays we ended up getting to Australia at the start of winter, which was about 20 degrees colder than what we were used to! Add to that some more family stresses, and the 2 years of continuous events had really gotten to us. It was the obvious time for us to finally settle down and buy a house and live the same routine every week. But instead of settling down, we seemed to think we still had some crazy left in us so we decided to take our baby on a 9 month round-the-world trip before settling down! Some would say we're crazy. others would say we're extremely crazy, but at least we think it's cool!

Travelling with a baby really is hard work, and the lack of good sleep makes it that much tougher, and obviously there are a lot of things we don't do on our trip since we have our baby with us. But it's also been great to travel the world just the 3 of us, and with our baby by our side, every day brings new adventures, whether we go outside the hostel or not! There's gotta be more people jealous of Luna than any other baby I know of! She learnt to blush at a boy while getting off a flight, she learnt to say her first word using a language that neither of us are fluent in, she learnt to walk when at 3800 meters above sea level altitude where it's hard even for us to walk! So our baby Luna has been having a great time on this trip, but we are the ones dealing with the daily stresses of travelling the world with a baby.

Things as simple as catching an overnight bus or flight can easily become a nightmare of 2 days without sleep, which then becomes dangerous if you are both too sleepy to take care of the baby! Or running low on drinking water in the middle of the night, which suddenly becomes a big deal because if our daughter doesn't drink enough during the night then she will be screaming till morning! So travelling with a baby is guaranteed to put lots of pressure on any relationship, especially in tough moments such as when your baby is sick and you don't even know how to say "doctor" let alone find a reliable one, or something in the trip does not work to your original plan (which obviously happens a lot!) so you invariably start blaming each other for anything that is stressing you at the time.

And one of the hardest aspects is not being able to have a family member or trustworthy babysitter to take care of your baby every once in a while, so you literally need to be taking care of your baby 24-hours a day, every day during your trip. So it doesn't leave any time whatsoever for just the two of us to spend time together, which is particularly annoying in our case since we had a baby so soon after our wedding!

It certainly requires a hell of a lot of patience and a really strong relationship to handle travelling new countries & new cultures with a baby, but in the end we're obviously going to have a lot of great memories of the 3 of us together! And which baby doesn't want to spend 24-hours a day with both their parents? Anyway, I wish I had more time to spend alone with my wife and without all these stresses but I guess we're just gonna have to wait until we finally settle down before that happens!

Cheers,
Sherv.

This is Pinay Travel Junkie's entry to the Pinoy Travel Bloggers' February 2012 Blog Carnival themed "Why You Should Date a Traveler" (or in this case, why you should marry a traveler).

Hosted by the awesome Lauren of Epic Potato.

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Mexico In A Wrap

2012-02-09T01:28:00.008+08:00

Breaking News: Mexico overthrew India off our top foreign destination spot. India now places second. What catalyzed such order is the fact that we spent a whole month exploring six states in Mexico, while we only allocated eight days for one state in India. I'd like to think that India will reclaim its throne once we see more of it, however I got a fearless forecast that it could already be improbable.

The iconic Chichén Itzá, Yucatán.
What's not to love? Impressive colonial buildings, perfectly restored ruins, megadiverse jungles, orgasmic dishes (a choco-chili sauce will tickle anyone's taste buds!), and the lovely people. Mexico's family oriented culture is a setup all too familiar to me, it reminded me of home. More so, not a single time were we ripped off. And unexpectedly, I felt more safe strolling on most of its streets in the wee hours than on Taft Avenue during early eve. It made me wonder where media picked up Mexico's scary reputation.

Metropolitan Cathedral of the Assumption of Mary, Ciudad De Mexico.
Mexico for the Pinoy backpacker:

Unfortunately, for Filipinos, it's quite a challenge to reach this part of the globe. The cheapest round-trip ticket you could score, if booked about three months in advance, is tagged at $1,900 (that's probably half the annual income of a call center representative - not so bad ei?). Less if it's on a rare seat sale. Add to that the pesky visa application which you could read more about here. Fortunately for us, we flew to Mexico as a work perk. And I didn't apply for a visa because U.S. visa holders can get in the country without prior application and could stay up to 180 days.

Hierve El Agua's Petrified Waterfalls, Oaxaca.
Crunching numbers. How cheap is cheap?

"Cheap" as we all know, is relative. As a Filipino backpacker, Mexico for me is definitely not dirt cheap, but affordable. Budget dorms in major cities start at 140 MXN (P465) per person, and double rooms at 350 MXN (P1,160). Water bought from a street store is 7 MXN for 1.5 L (P23), taco from a kiosk is also 7 MXN each. When dining in, taco prices could start at 10 MXN (P33), depends on what stuff are on them. Platillos Especiales cost 70 MXN (P230), already good for two people. Soda 12 MXN (P40) for a bottle in restaurants, and cerveza is 20 MXN (P66). Admission fees to museums and archaeological sites range from 50 to 200 MXN.

Palacio De Justicia, Puebla.
Getting around:

Getting to and from the airport is easy and inexpensive for there is a Metro station servicing it. A Metro ride is only 3 MXN (P10), includes transfer of lines. If you got loads of luggage, you could snag a taxi from one of the counters just outside the arrivals area. This ride's pricey (we paid 170 MXN or P563 for a 20-minute trip), but safe. We didn't get the chance to try the micro buses, for we hailed street taxis instead (sadly we weren't able to hop on a Volkswagen Beetle cab). Luckily, most of the taxis we took used meters. And even if they didn't, the rates offered to us were reasonable, say 50 MXN (P166) for 5 kilometers during rush hour. Long distance buses ate a huge chunk off our budget though, mainly because we entrusted ADO with our lives (some of its tickets cost the same as a Manila-Kota Kinabalu flight).

We expected tacos and quesadillas, but not chocolate-tinged Mole Poblano.
Mexican munchies:

Mexican food and I got off to a rocky start. The first meal we had upon arrival was some bland seafood paella. But was it really bland or was it because until that moment, I hadn't eaten authentic paella? The restaurant seemed popular to locals (who ordered the same dish too), so surely they're not serving unappetizing food? The tacos tasted different as well, but in a good way. It's got fewer ingredients than what we're used to: Freshly made tortilla, meat just dashed with salt, string cheese (if it's a fancy kiosk), cilantro, chopped onions, and the optional salsa or guacamole. And oh, squeezed lime. There's a separate post that will mainly tackle Mexican food, should come your way soon. Warning: Might rave heaps about mole poblano. Marriage between chocolate and meat is ingenious!

Teotihuacán, atop Pirámide de la Luna.
Talk the talk:

Pañal, leche en polvo, toallita para bebe (diaper, milk powder, baby wipes) are amongst the Spanish words I looked up prior our trip (yep I'm obviously a backpacker mum). It may surprise you that even in Mexico's major cities, English ain't commonly used but Mexicans are generally patient with uhm, foreigners' sign language. I found it easy to communicate our way around because thankfully Tagalog still has tons of Spanish words. Come armed with a handful of phrases, the Mexicans totally appreciate it.

There you have it folks, Mexico in a mini wrap. I hope this serving has whetted your appetite and encouraged you to plan your visit, because really... I believe you, my fellow Pinoy, can.

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Metropolitan Cathedral of the Assumption of Mary, Ciudad De Mexico

2012-02-04T23:26:00.013+08:00

As I emerged from Ciudad de México's Zócalo Metro Station, my eyes were instantly drawn to the monolithic Metropolitan Cathedral or Catedral Metropolitana across Plaza de la Constitución. I panted as I climbed the last steps of the staircase, and occasionally bumped into fellow commuters who rushed past. Luna, whom I was lugging, didn't seem to mind the chaos. Hubby on the other hand, looked dazed as he puffed his way up the crowded stairs while dragging the stroller.

Finally after three days of locking ourselves in the guesthouse since we landed on Mexican soil, we ditched our respective jobs for a few hours to see the city. Or at least, a miniscule portion of it. Our taxiless trip from the guesthouse to the zócalo (main plaza) required us a twenty-minute walk, and a metro train ride that passed through four stations. Not exactly the most convenient way to go, but only cost us 3 MXN (Mexican peso) each.

I surveyed the familiar vista. The scene exuded a Quiapo Church vibe, sans the hawked mysterious herbal medicines. We weaved our way through bystanders and peddlers selling the randomest merchandise, until we made it to the entrance of the cathedral. I was amazed by the scale of them all: The pillars, altars, paintings and sculptures. What I uttered next was perhaps the most apt phrase for this kind of situation, "Oh my God!".

It wasn't as crowded as I imagined, and a fourth of the visitors were foreign tourists snapping shots with their ginormous cameras. The Metropolitan Cathedral is the largest in the Americas and was built for more than two hundred years in sections. This baroque structure houses impressive functional art similar (if not more grandiose) to other magnificent churches'. However, it also withholds a rather dark past.

The cathedral sits on the ancient Aztec city of Tenochtitlán, which Spain conquered and colonized. During ancient times, the Spanish would construct their churches atop the natives' temples or sacred ground to represent their power over the land (it was also common practice to use the destroyed temple's stones in building the new church). Death awaited the natives who resisted. Quite a harrowing tale, don't you think?

But the cathedral's glitz may not remind you of that. It will instead, mesmerize. And that's what it did to us as we walked down its aisles and round the corners. We spent a significant time sitting on the pews too, just to take all that awesomeness in.

After an hour of rare solemnity, we exited the cathedral's main portal and were greeted once again by disquietude. Our feet led us to the next stop, Palacio Nacional.

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Brazil Tourist Visa Application In Lima, Peru

2012-02-02T02:30:00.008+08:00

As of writing, Filipinos can visit Brazil for 90 days without applying for a visa beforehand. So I expect to sashay through Galeão–Antonio Carlos Jobim International Airport's immigration counter without hassle about a couple of weeks from now. Awesome ain't it? The hubby and our daughter though, as Australians, applied for the tourist visa. If you happen to be in Peru and are looking into applying for a Brazil tourist visa (and frustrated cause you can't seem to find decent information online), then you've arrived at the right cyber space.

Requirements for tourist visa application:

1. Passport, which should be valid for a minimum of six months from the date of intended arrival in Brazil. Should have one page that's free of stamps.

2. Filled out/printed application form which could be downloaded here.

3. One recently taken passport size photograph (with plain white background). Should be attached on the visa application form.

4. A copy of round trip/onward ticket or copy of your itinerary (we submitted onward tickets and a copy of our hotel booking confirmation).

5. Copy of applicant's credit card. Bring original card in case consular officer asks for it.

6. Depending on your case, officer may ask for additional documents. We presented our daughter's birth certificate as well to prove that she's traveling with her parents.

7. Payment receipt from the bank. Tourist visa fee is $35 which must be paid at HSBC Bank Peru along Av. Jose Pardo (same street as the embassy's, just a few blocks away).

Application day, Embaixada Do Brasil:

1. Submission of documents can only be done in the morning, from 8:15 AM to 12:00 noon. The embassy is located in Miraflores (an affluent district swarmed by backpackers), Av. Jose Pardo 850, just walking distance from Parque Kennedy.

2. Hand in the application form, documents, and payment receipt at the counter. The embassy wasn't hectic when we applied on a Monday. You will then be given a claim stub. The visa processing usually takes four to five business days. Release of visa and documents is done in the afternoon, 3:30 to 4:30.

So there you go! Now prepare your skimpy suit for days of frolicking on the beaches of Copacabana or Ipanema, or doing the samba at the Carnaval!

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Look Who Wrote On Our Lonely Planet South America On A Shoestring!

2012-01-25T07:02:00.032+08:00

It has been a couple of weeks since TACA Airlines swooped us from Mexico City, Mexico and safely delivered us to Lima, Peru. Two weeks?! We can't believe it either. Cancun still feels like yesterday, and the aftertaste of taco al pastor still lingers on our tasted buds.

We are currently shacking in the cheapest hostal we found so far this round-the-world trip in Arequipa City, a 16 to 18-hour southbound bus ride from Lima (and more than 2,000 meters above sea level). As I lay on our dingy, seemingly unwashed sheets, I flip through the pages of our Lonely Planet South America On A Shoestring in search of economico accommodations in Puno where we're heading tomorrow.

Until this day, I am overwhelmed by the fact that we are actually using it as reference. You see, the hubby gave it as a wedding present to me. I remember feeling elated when I tore off its gift wrapper and found out what it was. But, I never assumed that we will actually explore South America someday. I just thought that it is, nonetheless, an awesome addition to my pile of dust-collecting paperbacks.

"A beat-up old car, a few dollars in the pocket, and a sense of adventure." Snapshot from Lonely Planet.
I guess you could say that I am quite obsessed with Lonely Planet's story (I became so after reading the autobiography). In case you don't know yet, the founders of this company is a married couple. Tony and Maureen Wheeler did an overland Europe-Asia-Australia trip (among the countries they crossed were Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan) for their honeymoon in 1972 to get rid of the travel bug before "settling down".

During the 1970s, as you could imagine, information was scant. After that epic trip, a light bulb moment led to the production of their very first guide, Across Asia On The Cheap (which by the way they typed and stapled themselves at that time). Its success brought forth the establishment of Lonely Planet Publishing (its name came from misheard Space Captain lyrics which should have been "lovely planet", but Tony thought it was "lonely planet"), and a second guidebook, Southeast Asia On A Shoestring. Currently, it's the largest travel guide book publisher in the world! I reckon we all know that.

"Shervin & Gay, Best wishes on your marriage and life journey together, I hope it's as colorful as Maureen's and mine had been!" - Tony Wheeler 2009.
Now let's go back to that guide book of mine. Hubby initially didn't plan to purchase that particular copy. Months prior our wedding, he contacted Lonely Planet's headquarters in Melbourne, Australia and asked for a message from either Tony or Maureen. Surprisingly they replied, and hubby was instructed to order one of the books so Tony could write a short note on it for me. South America On A Shoestring was sort of a random choice.

It was so fortunate that the staff was able to get hold of jet-setting Tony for a quick scribble. It may be a mere autograph for him, but for me, it's a lifelong inspiration.

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Thai Money Saving Tips

2012-01-23T05:40:00.007+08:00

Thailand is an incredibly cheap country to vacation in. Accommodation, food and transport costs are low, so it’s an ideal place for backpackers and travelers on a budget. From personal experience and from friends, family and fellow travelers I’ve picked up a bunch of tips that I thought I’d share to help you out whether you’re looking for cheap flights to Thailand or ways to save once you get there. And if anyone has anymore moneysaving Thailand tips to share, I’d love to hear them!

Flights

For most travelers the most expensive part of their trip is the flight, especially when you’re flying long haul. If you’re looking to book your flights and accommodation separately, aim to book your flights around 6 months before you plan to fly. This is when new tickets are released and fares are at their lowest – prices only increase at the last minute.

Another tip is to search using online flight specialists. Their fares can often be lower as they are online businesses with lower overheads so can pass these savings on to consumers. Check out companies that specialize in long haul trips like DialAFlight who are currently offering cheap flights to Thailand from London for £455 return this coming June.

From the airport

The chances are you’ll be landing at Suvarnabhumi Airport. There are a few ways to get into Bangkok from here, but the cheapest and most convenient is by taxi – just don’t join the taxi queue at arrivals! You’ll be charged a taxi surcharge and have to queue forever. A little trick is to hop up to departures on the top floor and grab a taxi that’s just dropped someone off – taa daa! No extra surcharge and no queuing in the heat.

Food

If you really want to save money in Thailand, just eat like the locals do. Local markets sell cheap local produce, and make the most of street food – you’ll find delicious, authentic Thai food from as little as 20 baht per meal.

Water

I save myself money on water by buying a large bottle and then refilling it at one of the many water machines dotted around the cities. You can refill for 6 baht – much cheaper than buying another bottle of water.

Accommodation

If you’re staying in Thailand for an extended period, by far the cheapest accommodation option is to rent an apartment rather than booking a hotel. You can get a small apartment on the outskirts of Bangkok for as little as £40 per month! As a general guide, accommodation up north is much cheaper than accommodation in Bangkok or on the islands.

Getting around

Taxis might be convenient, but if you want to save cash and live like a local you better get to know your bus routes. The Bangkok Mass Transit Authority site has everything you need to know to plan your journeys. They’re incredibly cheap and run all over – you can travel for as little as 8 baht per journey – just don’t expect air con.

Taxis are useful but can be expensive on the islands especially. If you do catch taxis, make sure the driver uses the meter rather than trying to negotiate a price – you’ll always get a better deal going by the meter, and it’s illegal for drivers to carry passengers without using one.

Language

My last tip? Learn as much Thai as possible. Speaking Thai means you’re far more likely to get the Thai price, not the western tourist price…

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Couchsurfing Walk-Through And Walkabout (or How We Landed On The Couchsurfing Video!)

2012-01-16T09:03:00.016+08:00

I stumbled upon Couchsurfing's "We're Casting!" announcement four months ago on its website while I was responding to a surfer's couch request. We were then temporarily residing (and waiting for the hubby's U.S. visa application to be approved) in an artist-owned cabin by Suffolk Park's Tallow Beach in New South Wales, Australia. I don't normally lurk around my home page, but for some reason, I did that day.

Casting Call

Because Couchsurfing's first video was (and still is) successful in promoting this awesome new way of traveling (hey, it ain't just about the accommodation), the cool folks from Couchsurfing's Headquarters thought of coming up with more videos. Two videos that will show the nitty gritty of hosting and surfing, and another that will tackle about safety.

Hence, the casting call. And a casting call like no other. With scenes to be shot in Thailand, Australia, Turkey (and I believe Kenya too), the cast will depict the diversity of the Couchsurfing population.

When I saw Australia on the short list, I was like, "Oh gosh this is miiine!"... 'Til I got to the part that says "We'll get in touch if we think you're a good fit for the project.". And then I went "Ugh!". I tried my luck anyway and filled out the questionnaire.

One question goes, "Why should you be in a CouchSurfing video? (Tell us what makes you awesome! This is an opportunity to shine so don't be shy about why you would be great in one of these videos)". Unsure of how to sell myself, I merely answered "I've couchsurfed single, married, pregnant and now I'm couchsurfing with my toddler."

An email arrived the next day from coordinator Heather saying they're interested! A Skype interview (by Heather herself and the director Justin) followed weeks after and the rest I guess is err, history.

Like Reality TV Stars

On shooting day, the crew arrived at my in-law's house 8:30 AM on the dot. Though they started setting up early, the actual interview began around midday and lasted for about an hour because of technical issues. In case you missed it, I just mentioned that I had an hour-long interview! Yep, that's how exhausting production can be.

Cameron, the camera guy, asking for a curtain to filter the intense sunlight.
The camera followed us around the house as if we were reality TV stars (I expected extreme close up shots, that why I uhm, cut my own bangs to cover ze zits!). It's one of the creepiest things I've experienced in like, my whole life (I was on a variety show ages ago, but yah know, the scripted kind).

Australian Walkabout Wildlife Park. They let us stroke a koala!
After the interview, we all rushed to the Australian Walkabout Wildlife Park to meet other Couchsurfers who patiently waited for us. We were almost three hours late. The events shown on the videos weren't staged. They're all real experiences. It ain't seen on any of the two videos, but the Couchsurfers we did a day trip with, we actually just met for the first time.

With Pinky, the audio tech. It's a wrap!
Several others were also interviewed while we made the most out of our free admission to the park where visitors could walk alongside emus and watch free range kangaroos (yes, their meat is for legal consumption) hop. I saw a Tasmanian devil and a dingo for the first time, and touched a koala for the first time as well! About 5-ish we had to unfortunately "pack up" for the park was about to close.

And then, we waited for a couple of months to view the outcome.

The Final Product

There's just so much heart poured into this project that's why the videos radiate with positive vibes. We only have good things to say about this hospitality network and we hope we're able to convince you to join. Play the three videos so you'll have an idea of what I've been chattering about!

What we love about hosting.
Why we think Couchsurfing's safe.
Give it a go! Here's a quickie walk-through from us.
Visit their website www.couchsurfing.org if you wanna know more and well, sign up!
"Open your mind. Open your home. Open the world." - Couchsurfing

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The Great Call Of China

2012-01-14T22:37:00.008+08:00

Our calling came two years ago. Visuals of a snaking wall on a mountain, a "bird's nest" made of steel, a humongous portrait of a man seemingly watching over a city square, and snow - lots of snow, floated in our dreamy heads.

We took heed. Even if we're total Cheimaphobics. We arrived as honeymooners during winter, determined to conquer the cold. And then some. And we left with more than enough vivid, fond memories that could beckon us again someday. Memories that shall last a lifetime (Unbeknownst to us then, we also left with a microscopic souvenir. Like, the embryo kind.).

The itinerary I vaguely planned for our China holidays that took us from Hong Kong to Beijing to Xian and to Guangzhou in a span of eight days, was without a doubt crammed. Especially we had to travel more or less twenty hours from one city to the next via sleeper trains. If for some reason you're coincidentally doing the same insane route (I highly recommend you don't, unless you got more time in your hands.), here are some sites you could also ambitiously squeeze in such time frame - narrowed down to eight cause it's a err, lucky Chinese number.

1. The Great Wall in Badaling (Yanqing County, Beijing). The most visited of all walls, hence, the most crowded. The easiest to get to though if you're not in a tour group.

2. Tiananmen Square, Beijing. On this photo, is the iconic Tiananmen Gate which separates the square and the Forbidden City. It is the third largest city square in the world.

3. Beijing National Stadium, popularly known as the "Bird's Nest" (Olympic Green, Beijing). Can be reached via MTR. There's an admission fee to get in, but taking snapshots from outside is definitely free.

4. Visit the Beijing National Aquatics Center or the "Water Cube" while you're in the Olympic Green and do the mandatory jump shot. Okay, the mandatory part is fiction.

5. Forbidden City, Beijing. Not really a city, but a royal complex. The largest one in the world. Named so because commoners were forbidden to enter its premises during the time when emperors used the complex as their abode.

6. Great Mosque, Xian. Xian is the eastern terminus of the Silk Road. Hence the evident Islam influence in the region. This mosque was built using Chinese architectural style instead of Middle Eastern. An interesting mix of different cultures.

7. Terracotta Army, Xian. Mesmerizing funerary art. Thousands of terracotta warriors and horses eerily stand guard. An archaeological site I dreamed of visiting since I saw it featured in uhm, National Geographic.

8. Museum of the Mausoleum of the Nanyue King, Guangzhou. The silk and jade burial suit of King Zhao Mo (the owner of the tomb) is one of the museum's highlights, along with the actual tomb's chambers where visitors can walk through.

Has the great call of China reached you too?

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200 RTW Days: Altered Plans And Jotted Notes

2012-01-08T09:29:00.000+08:00

“Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” ~ Miriam Beard
Two hundred days. That's past the halfway mark of our round-the-world vagabonding. Our country counter flashes the number three. Four and a half months in Australia, a month in U.S.A., and almost a month in Mexico where we are currently in. This exhibits the slowest of our slow travels, yet with such period, we barely scratched the surface of each country (I mean, c'mon, these three countries are ginormous!).

Chronicles shall come your way soon. Pinky swear.

And we're still smiling.
Mapping It Out

Our initial, ideal plan was to visit at least one or two countries on each continent except Antarctica (Cause yah know, we ain't got the dough for that. Yet. Ahem, optimism please.). And we agreed to select the specific countries as the trip progressed.

It was during our first week in Mexico that we decided to stash Europe on the shelf. For one, I began tailoring our world trail with that pesky thing called visa in mind. Visa free countries became our priority. So instead of spending our first week in Mexico touring the Romanian Embassy, I scheduled a handful of sightseeing day trips around the ciudad instead. Another reason why we're skipping this continent is, well, it will simply blow our budget. I guess our holidays to gran canaria would have to wait.

So where do we go from here? In a couple of days we're flying out of Mexico and into South America, then hopefully we set foot in Africa around February or March which shall be my sixth continent. The hubby's too, and our daughter Luna's fifth. We'll be back in Asia in May, but won't be around the Southeast Asia region until late July.

Notes On Nomadism

The world is our classroom. Our firsthand experiences are our teachers. Sometimes the strangers we meet, sometimes that local guide randomly assigned to us by a tour operator. And unlike in schools and universities, we won't have a graduation. No one will hand us a diploma at the end of this global schooling because it's a course that won't ever end. Heck, there's no grading system whatsoever to begin with! Cause it ain't like you land on the honor roll for topping the "been there done that" thing.

Okay, I was trying to come up with our trip stats for our 200 RTW Days reportage when these thoughts rolled in my head. I ditched the tallying because it dawned on me that, yah know, they're merely numbers. At this stage, all that matters to us are the awesome experiences and the lessons that we've learned during our 200 days of nomadism.

And we shall keep learning. Because it is, as darn cliche as it may sound, is a continuous process. Our family vagabonding made my husband and I know each other through and through. Equally important, we've discovered and are still discovering more about our own selves than ever before. Our trip also lets us literally watch our daughter grow right before our eyes, because there's no relative or nanny around to take her every now and then. So yeah, we know her from top to toe as well. Anyhoo, these stuff are like, all about us... Wait 'til I start talking about what we've learned regarding other cultures! But of course, that's saved for another post. Several posts, actually.

Every waking day, our long term goals in life become clearer. If you're part of our err, cult following, you're probably aware of how we despise setting long term goals because we live in the now. I reckon it's about time to plan. But hey, don't expect a purchased house when this whole shindig is over. It ain't anything like that. Not even close.

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Jade Guesthouse, Mexico City

2012-01-06T00:11:00.009+08:00

Its streets boast of impressive century-old mansions. Some beautifully restored, some in a state of partial ruins. Almost every five yards there's a sari-sari store (what we call a small family owned convenience store in the Philippines) and a taqueria. In a few areas, even a pub. And occasionally a smooching couple in a corner.

Colonia Santa María la Ribera, a colonia (Mexican neighborhood) that was initially set up for rich families in the late 19th century, is where the humble Jade Guesthouse sits. One of the cheapest accommodations this side of town, but perhaps the most charming of all (and I say perhaps because we've never checked in other guesthouses within the area).

Jade Guesthouse's courtyard, just in front of our room. Luna, peekaboo!
This guesthouse owned by a French family offers only a couple of rooms. One on the ground level, and another on the second, in a building separate from the family's house. A set up that provides guests utmost privacy. A set up that can easily make anyone feel like a resident, not just a traveler. That is, if your home doesn't have a telly as well.

Our charming habitación with a very inviting cama.
Our room's basic, yet tastefully embellished with beautiful local tiles and drapes bunched up with shell-adorned ropes. There's a comfy double bed, a table and a chair, and a couple of shelves in the corner for our luggage. The bathroom may be eating up a fourth of the floor area, but because its facade does not have a wall (only drapes conceal the guests as they do the deed), the room does not feel too itsy-bitsy.

A bathroom that uhm, lacks a wall. I love the tiled vanity cabinet, and the vintage bañera.
The M$350 rate (M$330 on weekdays) does not include brekkie, however a full kitchen on the rooftop can be used by the guests. On the six days of our stay, I was on the stove every single day to cook my potful of rice and prepare for our traveling toddler's meal. We loved whiling our late mornings on that rooftop (as opposed to the courtyard) for it was the only part of the property where we were able to soak up the winter sun.

The kitchen on the rooftop.
We immensely enjoyed their dependable internet connection (which we always need for our online jobs), and we're pleased with the free purified water that I used a lot of for concocting bottles and bottles of milk formula. Our room was tidied daily, and the linens were changed after the first three nights. Fresh towels were provided everyday too, plus shampoo and liquid bath soap in cutesy glass bottles.

Crepes, omelette, fried beans and freshly baked bread for brekkie. A gift (which can also be ordered for M$50 on weekends) from the owners for our almost week-long stay.
Above all these, we're thankful for the endearing owners who hosted us like their long-lost relatives. Who sent us all the basic information we needed, and more, upon booking online. Who let us leave one of our bags in their home while we explore the other states. The wife, during our session of hanging laundered clothes on the rooftop, told me that she and her husband (their two kids too) lived in the Philippines for years. She worked for one of the biggest call centers in the country. Her hubby, who was actually born in the Philippines (I chuckled when she randomly mentioned that his first word's pusa, cat in Tagalog) managed a famous upscale salon in Makati City.

The absence of a signage adds a homey vibe to the guesthouse.
They loved the Philippines, but couldn't reside there as unemployed aliens when they quit their jobs. And that's why folks, the family ended up in Mexico, where foreigner-related policies aren't complicated. They sorta gave us this wild idea of living here someday too. But uhm, that's too wild of an idea.

The only thing the guesthouse lacks which I reckon is worth mentioning, is a room heater for the guests to use in winter. And I tell you, it could get dang cold inside the rooms, for these rooms were designed to be a refuge from sizzling Mexican summers. But hey, this won't keep us from coming back. In fact, we'll be checking in Jade Guesthouse once again just before we fly out of the country in four days!

How to get there from the airport:

1. By Metro: Terminal Aérea Metro Station on Line 5 serves Mexico City's International Airport. You need to change lines twice to get to Line 2. Alight at San Cosme Station, and from there it's a 20 minute walk to the guesthouse. 30 or more if you're carrying a heavy backpack. Fare's M$3.

2. By cab: Just outside the airport's arrival exit, there's a row of booths of legit taxi operators. M$170 for the 30-minute ride to the guesthouse. Cab driver tip, optional.

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A Trip to a Vanishing World

2012-01-04T07:03:00.005+08:00

A guest post by Nahoma Beniga Maentz. Pinay Travel Junkie's very first. This article tells the story of how the Katutubong Filipino Project was born. A must read, and a must spread. Images captured by her husband Jacob Maentz.

Divilacan, Isabela. This part of the Philippines, so beautifully raw in its remoteness, is where I had my first (and hopefully not last) sincere encounter of this country’s first inhabitants. I have had several brushes with indigenous people before in my parent’s birthplace of Surigao, but I was naive and quite indifferent back then. Partly because of my age. I was young and couldn’t have cared less with what was happening around me. Also because no one really properly explained the indigenous peoples existence to me. In short, my idea was that they did not belong, that they lived in the mountains and wore nothing but g-strings. For someone who didn’t know any better, that picture in my mind of almost naked men and women conjure an image of a crazy group of people. The way they were treated by the “civilized” group did not help either.

I carried that thought with me for a long time until this journey to Isabela took shape. My husband Jacob, a former Peace Corps volunteer assigned in Palawan and now a full-time photographer has always shown interest in covering indigenous people. When he proposed the idea of traveling to one of the most remote parts of the country in the hopes of working with a native tribe I had my hesitations. I had thought such groups did not exist anymore. Not necessarily physically non-existent but that they have lost their so to speak “indigenousness.” The Mamanwas in Surigao have been heavily influenced by the large mining companies surrounding them. They have learned to ask for money. They have learned to love money. Even when you approach them and politely ask if you could take their portraits, they will ask for money. Everything now has a price tag for them.

Good thing he was relentless in telling me how much he needed me there (to perform various tasks – as interpreter, organizer, luggage carrier, etc.). Boy, am I glad I went else I would have missed so much relearning who I truly am. A Filipino. The Filipino. And I saw an abundance of that in these Dumagats and Agtas that we met and later befriended. Everything is still fresh in my memory up to this day – the loveliness of the people, the simplicity of life, nature and man supporting each other, depending on each other. Money has little or no value at all. It took me back to a world hundreds of years ago and at the same time, took me back inwards. I only have to think of them and I get my jolt of inspiration when I need it.

I have always been a proud citizen of this country despite the negative images oftentimes portrayed by fellow citizens. That one particular trip however, made me even prouder. Because I have found my roots. As authentic as it can ever get. And it is a beautiful culture, a beautiful world.Unfortunately, a constant threat is hovering over these people and their land, and time may come when everything about them and their way of life will change. Big businesses, always on the look-out for more resources can barge in at any time. Likewise, if the Dumagats or Agtas wanted a ‘better life’ outside of their place, they would have long been gone. But they are there simply because they want to remain there. That is their land. That is their way of life. This very idea of ‘modernizing’ them breaks my heart. If and when that happens, what I’ve seen and come to love will surely vanish. No doubt, I will also lose a huge chunk of myself.

With such thoughts on our minds upon returning home, Jacob and I came up with an idea to bring about awareness to these cultures. We know that not everyone is familiar of them and their existence. It is a very modern world we live in, but we believe that this project can greatly benefit us, our children and our children’s children. That through photographs, we may always have something to look back with regards to our heritages. With pride.
May it never be lost.

You can read more about the Katutubong Filipino Project that we have initiated at www.katutuboproject.org. We also need help in spreading the word about our Kickstarter campaign which is helping to raise funds for the Katutubong Filipino Project. Please take some time to watch our video and help us spread the word: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/869942434/katutubong-filipino-project-vanishing-indigenous-c

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Próspero Año Nuevo

2012-01-01T00:52:00.008+08:00

I assumed that the faint knock on our slightly ajar door was from the housekeeping lady. It was a man's voice I heard however, and he only spoke Spanish to Shervin. I was able to make out a few words which included "señor" and "comida". The mere mention of comida, the Spanish word for lunch and also food, made me jump off the bed.

The invitation was timely. We were just about to head out for a meal.

The owner did not speak a single English word. While Shervin could only say gracias.
The owner of Hotel Regional in Palenque led us to a long table temporarily set up at the hall just across our room. He asked Shervin and me to sit while he served us a meal of chicken and (to my delight) rice. He and his wife laid food portions for the other people as well, who I mostly recognized as the hostel staff. Such kind gesture to serve the workers who serve them.

Top: Dessert #2, a whole peach swimming in what seems to be unsweetened condensed milk. Left: Chicken dish that resembles the Filipino afritada Right: Dessert #1, a moist flan-ish cake.
Like in my home country Philippines, a prayer was a prelude to our home-cooked feast. The comida was fantastic, though could have been more wonderful had there been actual conversations as opposed to an exchange of lone words such as:

Shervin: Familia (pertaining to the group)?
Owner: Trabajo.

We excused ourselves with our sincerest muchas gracias when the chatter dropped its merriness and picked up a business tone.

Win these! Left: Shot glass from Puebla, Puebla. Beside it is our New Year eve drink, a cappuccino-flavored mezcal. Right: Leather bookmark from Palenque, Chipas. Pardon me, but I just gotta show one of the fake nails I bought here. First time I ever wore those stick-ons and I feel like a cougar in a Mexican telenovela.
Six hours later, we had dinner at Lonely Planet recommended Mara's (which didn't disappoint) and went back straight to our hostel after. We decided to spend the last night of the year low-key. It's an hour into 2012 right now and I could still hear the noise of the owner's family celebrating the New Year from the hall. Though I'm slightly tempted to take a peek at their shindig, I chose to stay in bed and do some blonking (blogging while drinking). Beside my slumbering Luna. And my husband who's watching a Naruto episode.

An epic ender for 2011, I must say.

And oh, 2012 kicks off awesomely with a giveaway! I got a shot glass and a leather bookmark (yah know, lightweight stuff I could easily carry around a few more countries before flying back home) up for grabs. Joining is uber easy! Simply post your fave Pinay Travel Junkie 2011 blog post's title and URL on your wall. Don't forget to tag Pinay Travel Junkie so I'd be notified of your entry.

Nope, it doesn't have to be verbatim.
Luna will pick the winner via rolled up bits of paper with the contestants' names. We're old school like that. Note: Prizes will be sent when we've arrived in the Philippines (yes, contest open to Philippine residents only) after our trip, roughly half a year from now. If for some reason your prize gets lost/stolen/destroyed, I'll search for another cool souvenir from some other country as replacement. Winners will be announced on January 15.

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Photo Essay: The Venetian and City of Dreams, Macau

2011-12-27T08:25:00.005+08:00

It's "the most wonderful time of the year" and we're miles away from home. Christmas in Oaxaca City, Mexico sort of resembles that of the Philippines'. Unfortunately, instead of getting rid of this nasty thing called homesickness, the merry atmosphere on the eve of the 24th aggravated it further more. Watching families stroll together around the zocalo made me miss my family so much... The feeling now actually hurts.

What I miss most, their smiles.
I find browsing through our Macau trip photos therapeutic, that's why despite the holiday fever, I had the drive to resume my Meet My Backpacking Folks Series. Remember the day when we transferred from century-Old SanVa Hospederia to the more swanky Pousada De Coloane Beach Hotel? Well, we resisted the urge to swim in a deep sea of blankets and everyone quickly took turns in the shower (cause SanVa Hospederia's bathrooms made us cringe, none of us bothered to do so when we arrived in Macau the night before).

At about 4:00 in the afternoon, after much barking at everybody like some military officer reminding his soldiers of their schedule, we finally headed out.

The whole gang waiting for the bus.
A long walk from the bus stop to The Venetian's main entrance. Mum all sweaty, can be seen here removing her cardigan. Modelesque. Turned this pavement into a catwalk.
The folks marveled at every eye-catching design, and there were uhm, tons!
Gambling ain't for you? How about shopping? Neither of the two attracted us, but a quick walk by the Grand Canal was pretty entertaining.
According to Wikipedia, "The Venetian also boasts the largest number of Filipino gondoleers in the world". K! Sorry, did I miss the punchline?
Cotai Strip's skyline.
About to cross the street toward the City of Dreams.
Inside the City of Dreams' 360° Bubble Theatre.
The Dragon's Treasure (what we came here for) is a 10-minute visual treat. Mom just kept saying "Wow!".
Capped off the night with a dinner at the City of Dreams' food court. I sooo dig this funky ceiling!
Thankfully our first whole day in Macau went by without much bickering between ~~me and my mom~~ family members. This was what the family needed at that time, a breather. A break from stress brought about by conventional routine. Oh how I wish they are with us right now, routineless too.

Macau Series: Meet My Backpacking Folks

Meet My Backpacking Folks
Century-Old SanVa Hospederia
Largo Do Senado: And The Family Chaos Continues
Review: Pousada De Coloane Beach Hotel

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