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9  impressions of Phuket

11/21/2019

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After 26 hours in three airplanes and one night in a Hong Kong hotel, we finally arrived in Thailand!
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Having only a week, we elected to spend our time in Phuket, mainly in Ban Karon (a more spacious and slightly less seedy version of Patong), with a few day trips to other parts of the big island.

These impressions are therefore limited to that context.

1. The Food is Awesome!

Anyone who knew I was going to Thailand advised me to “eat all the food”, and they were right! From street pad Thai to sticky rice and mango to banana pancakes and rolled ice cream and even authentic Russian cuisine... the food is fresh and just generally amazing!!!

On arrival our first night, we wandered out into the street not too far from our AirBnB to discover a lineup of street vendors selling various skewers for BBQ as well as a variety of pad Thai. We selected several of the former and two of the latter (a chicken and a vegetarian) to take back to our apartment.
Subsequent days in town and near the beach revealed additional tasty food selections, including fresh fruit smoothies in every flavour imaginable, waffles made to order, and sticky rice with fresh cut mango.

The best part was how affordable everything was: Most items cost less than 120 baht (the equivalent of about $5 CAD or less), and without taxes and tip added on (tipping is not really customary in many parts of Asia), our money went far!


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2. The Wiring is Lava

One thing I noticed almost immediately upon arrival and often after that was the number of wires hanging in the street. It was as though everyone had just added whatever they needed to the thick, electrical jumble.
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Surely there is some kind of safety guideline for electrical wiring there, but it just seemed to the casual observer like a fire or some other sort of electrical disaster waiting to happen!

3. Body Care Options Are Ubiquitous

Everyone who goes to Thailand talks about the cheap prices for awesome massages... unfortunately, many of these seem to be linked to “happy ending”.

But many places are legit, and offer a wide range of delightful body services at very reasonable prices. You can even get them right on the beach, which I did, three times, with the lady below. No attempts at a happy ending, thank goodness, but I was happy at the end!
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While in Phuket, I enjoyed two oil massages, some foot reflexology, and a Thai massage. On our final night in town, Alex joined me at a little spot tucked into a side street for a face massage and back and shoulder work. Unlike the fancy spas here in Toronto, most places there just have a row of hard mattresses with a curtain between each one (and no curtains at all at the beach). It’s not super private, but seems to be the norm.

The Thai massage in particular was fantastic, and if the prices were like that here at home, I’d get one every week or more, no question!


4. Laundry Service Rocks

Our Airbnb didn’t include a washing machine, and since we’d packed pretty light, by Day 3 we urgently needed to wash a load! Luckily for us, there was a place right around the corner (and indeed, they are pretty much everywhere), where you could drop off your clothes to be laundered, ironed and folded.

The charge per kilo was about the equivalent of what we spend on the machines in our laundry room at home, only we didn’t actually have to do the work, just drop it off any pick it up all clean and nicely folded!

Laundry service is definitely worthwhile (and necessary if traveling light and you sweat like a pig... as I do!) if you are visiting Phuket.


5. Thai Language and Google

The language in Thailand is super cool... and very different from English. The alphasyllabary of the Thai script contains 44 consonant symbols and 15 vowel symbols, and the language is mostly (though not exclusively) monosyllabic. There is also considerable use of gender endings when speaking, so for example the way I say “hello” and “thank you” would differ slightly from the way one of my sons would.

This vacation was my first trip to Asia, and unlike when traveling to other destinations, I hadn’t really done my homework beforehand in that I knew essentially no words in Thai. But I soon learned to say hello and thank you with the appropriate gendered language (as an aside, apparently most ladyboys - or “kathoeys” as they are known in Thai — use the female gender when speaking; I asked a local!)


Also, Google translate is alive and well! As well as a few Chinese, and the odd Brit or North American, the place seems to be crawling with Russians, and it is not uncommon to see “interesting” translations of Thai into Russian, English and Cantonese in many restaurant and on store signs, etc.


6. The Islands are Plentiful and Beautiful

Some of my friends who who visited Thailand before for longer periods of time advised visiting at least some of the smaller islands, of which there are many, surrounding Phuket and Thailand generally. They have been made famous from the filming of James Bond movies as well as “The Beach”, starring Leonardo DiCaprio (we did not see Leo while there).

Since we only had a week, we opted for a day excursion to Koh Phi Phi, a string of small islands about a two-and-a-half-hour boat ride way from the pier. This adventure served to be an incredible day of diving and snorkelling, and we marvelled at the nature both above and below the water (only got photos of the former, though)!


I imagine that a week spent on one of the smaller islands would provide a considerably more authentic flavour, in some cases, than the crowded tourist beaches of Phuket.

Perhaps one day....


7. Elephants

While Tats wanted to do some diving, my main interest in Thailand stemmed from a desire to visit the elephants, and learn more about these magnificent creatures.

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I’ll write a separate blog post on our magical day at the Phuket Elephant Sanctuary, but for now, suffice it to say that there are many opportunities to spend time with the elephants on they island of Phuket, and one should research very carefully to ensure one is not supporting the many abusive/fake “elephant experience” tourist traps that continue to exist under the guise of “sanctuary”.


8. Burmese presence (Myanmar)

I noticed in Ban Karon that some of the locals were wearing a sort of face cream in large circles - mostly women, but also some men were wearing this, and I wondered about it.

As I learned during our visit the elephant sanctuary, they are Burmese (as they refer to themselves, rather than saying from Myanmar) - apparently this people group constitutes Thailand’s largest migrant population. And the creamy paste on the face is actually called “thanakha”, and is both cosmetic and practical: Made from ground bark and a little water, it cools the skin and provides protection from sunburn as well as being an effective anti-fungal.


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An interesting aside: Several of the Mahouds at the elephant sanctuaries are Burmese, and have to learn Thai for their jobs - the retired elephants don’t understand Burmese!


9. Traffic is insanity

In order to get to the beach (or anywhere, really) from our AirBnB, we had to cross a main road. Traffic lights are few to none, and scooters and busses whiz by on the sidewalk-less streets. Congestion in Thailand, which has the unfortunate notoriety of having the world’s deadliest roads, is infamously bad, and Phuket is no exception!

On the days when we had arranged outings and excursions by car (van), we learned to anticipate long delays as a result of traffic. These delays were made more unpleasant by the often sharply winding and hilly roads, which caused me personally a fair bit of car-sickness.

With so many beautiful sites to see, traffic was really one of the most annoying features of our time in Thailand, and all things considered, I guess we shouldn’t complain about something so insignificant. But I do wonder how people who live here full-time manage!


In Conclusion

During our week in Phuket, we enjoyed many exciting adventures and also had a chance to swim in the ocean and relax at the beach.
The time we spent seemed just right, though I do wish we had had a chance to visit Phuket Town and maybe see a fishing village on the other side of the island. We did not get to Bangkok or any other part of Thailand, and I know our visit to Phuket gave us just a small glimpse of this country’s beauty, history and culture.
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Early Morning on the Jordan Road

11/10/2019

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Our night in Hong Kong was never intended to be the focus of our 10-day vacation... Headed for Thailand to do some snorkelling/diving and visit an elephant sanctuary, we were looking for a quick place on route to stop over for one or two nights, mainly to recover from the foreseeably long flights through multiple time zones before settling in at our intended destination for a week.

I knew little to nothing about Hong Kong, and was admittedly ill-prepared for this leg of the adventure. Other than exchanging some Canadian dollars for local currency and looking up a bus route from the airport to our Airbnb before we left Toronto, I’m ashamed to say I knew virtually nothing about this part of the world.

I have been (mostly) pleasantly and embarrassingly surprised throughout our little stopover.
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The city offers a fascinating contemporary urban architecture against a backdrop of millennia-old geography, infused with a curious combination of ancient and modern cultural quirks. The view from Victoria Peak at night is unbeatable, and the wide variety of food, entertainment and available tourist accommodations is laudable.

But what really interests me is the “real“ life in a city, not what the tourists come to see, but what happens “behind the scenes”, as an almost invisible yet ubiquitous part of the fabric of a place.

As it turns out, I had the opportunity to catch a small glimpse of this on our second morning here.

Still horrifically jetlagged after our arrival from North America the previous morning, I awoke multiple times throughout the night, and eager not to wake my sleeping travel companions, I quietly dressed myself and snuck out of the apartment around 5 AM.

The streets near our Airbnb at the intersection of Nathan and Jordan Roads downtown were quiet, but nowhere near deserted.
In the distance, the golden arches beckoned, as they do now in virtually every city of every country around the world.

Eager for some free Wi-Fi and curious how their breakfast items compare to those in Canada, I wandered inside.
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It’s quiet, but already filling up with early morning meal seekers. Several folks sit sipping their coffees and nibbling on globally recognizable fast food breakfast items at a large central table, their faces buried in their mobile devices.

But a second, shocking “sub-population” makes up the periphery of the restaurant: Every bench of every table booth is filled with what appears to be sleeping street people!
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A quick Internet search reveals that the 25 or so homeless folks I count at this McDonald’s are — sadly — not an anomaly. With increasing rent prices, the increase in homelessness has also soared, and a study published in March 2018 indicates that the number of homeless spending the night in 24 hour McDonald’s restaurants has doubled in the past three years!

I’m reminded of how fortunate I am to be a visitor here, and how lucky, irrespective of where “home“ is, to have found a path in life that has afforded me a steady income with regular access to food and a decent apartment, as well as the ability to travel. I’m also intrigued by the reaction of the food-purchasing locals. No one seems to bat an eyelash at their less fortunate neighbours, many of whom are still fast asleep on their benches when I leave an hour later, heads resting on backpacks presumably containing all their worldly possessions. (I consider that in Toronto, where both the climate and the mindsets towards such public integrations seem to be much colder, such sleepers would surely have been evicted from their temporary posts rather than left to find a few hours of relatively safe and peaceful escape from the elements.)

Hong Kong is similar to and yet significantly different from how I imagined it.

As I stumble out from my early morning of blogging at the familiar restaurant-come-homeless shelter and back into the street to wander “home” with the sun finally rising in the distance, my mind turns to our afternoon at Kowloon Park yesterday.

Filled with greenery, Asian “kitsch” and some impressive accessibility features for the visually impaired, this urban park tells the city’s story from a different angle.
And as I return to the older building where we’re staying for the night, I realize again how lucky I am, this time with timing: About 20 police officers are milling about with face masks and hard helmets, commuting with one another by radio. I can’t understand what they’re saying of course, but as more of them pull on their masks, I infer they’re preparing for yet another protest, and I’m grateful to have arrived safely back at my Airbnb before that erupted!

How glad I am that we had the opportunity to spend a day in this bustling metropolis. Like all travel, this experience is one that expands the mind and provides opportunity for reflection, both on life‘s big problems, and ones personal contributions to either the problem or possible solutions.
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The Great Thailand Adventure, Part 1: In Transit

11/10/2019

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I had forgotten how hard long haul travel can be (well, for those of us pions who can’t afford first class, anyway).


Full Disclaimer: This blog post is full of whining and complaining about what a former colleague of mine would call “FWP” or “first world problems”!! I so get that I am super lucky to have the ability to travel as I do, both in terms of having the luxury and privilege of being employed in a job that offers annual paid vacation time and also in terms of having the means to pay for accommodations and standby travel; even though it’s cheaper than how some people travel, I fully recognize that most people don’t get to travel like this at all. That said, within the context of said travel, I am going to get my complain on. So if y’all can’t handle it, you should stop reading now and go back to consuming whatever more worthy online crap you were consuming before the internetz rabbit hole led you here.


So my partner is a pilot with an airline in Canada. And even though it’s a small regional airline, it’s one that has some awesome reciprocal agreements with partner airlines, which means we (her partner and kids) can all travel much cheaper than market value, and she even more cheaply (and in some cases even free).


But it’s standby. That means not confirmed. As in, you could be waiting a gazillion years before a seat comes up on a flight you want/need to get where you’re trying to go. And the more people you’re traveling with, the less likely it is you will get your first choice. Especially when traveling with a partner airline, because there’s a whole ranking system, and if you’re the family of a person working for an airline other than the one you’re trying to travel on, you’re basically at the bottom of the list. A third (or fourth or fifth) class citizen, as it were.


Below an illustration of how this played out recently. We were lucky in that it’s a fairly seamless example, but hard travel nonetheless.


Three of us had decided to use our 10 days of vacation time (and in the case of our kid who was joining us, his 7 skipped days of school) to try and get to Thailand. Unless we wanted to pay upwards of $1000 a person for a guaranteed seat, we had to figure out which partner airlines (that have the agreement with my bae’s airline) fly from Toronto to somewhere in Thailand, or to a place that has other qualifying flights to Thailand.


We quickly established that we’d likely have to go through Hong Kong, staying a night or two in an AirBnB there before trying our luck with a flight to Phuket, where we had rented an apartment for a week and arranged for some diving and snorkelling.


There were a few options, the “easiest” of which was a non-stop Cathay Pacific flight from YYZ to HKG. It leaves in the afternoon on Friday, and arrives in Hong Kong sometime on Saturday evening.


The only problem is that it was oversold, and already had three people (who were not us) on the standby list. So we decided not to risk it.


Flying standby successfully depends largely on one’s ability to predict the likelihood of finding an empty seat on any given flight. Knowledge is power. But knowing the loads means requiring access to inside information not usually available to those outside of airline staff. Out of this necessity, and thanks to the power of modern technology, an online network of inter-airline collegiality exists in a way that most people outside of the aviation industry cannot possibly imagine. Even if you don’t directly know someone who works for the airline you want to fly with and can check the loads for you on their internal systems, chances are you know someone who used to fly with someone who flew with a friend of someone who works for that airline. And if not, there’s always the apps and the facebook groups, the ones where you plug in your desperate plea, and some bored keener with inside information will give you the best available intel at that time.


So my partner obsessively googled and texted.


The next best options where all out of Newark, which conveniently is a destination her airline frequents. Lots of available connecting flights to Hong Kong there.


Alas, not a lot of space to get from Toronto *to* Newark.


So back to researching.


We finally decided to fly United to San Francisco, and try our luck with a connecting flight departing 45 minutes later to Hong Kong. If we were successful in getting on both flights, it would mean 22 hours of flying through multiple time zones over the subsequent 24 hours, but it looked like our best option, meaning that we were more likely to be doing 22 hours of flying than 40+ hours of sitting around an airport! The loads for the first leg were looking VERY good, and the second leg (assuming we could make it from one plane to the next in time) seemed to have just enough seats for us, based on the latest intel from an airline colleague.


With some free pens and chocolate, and a little sweet talking to the United CSRs in YYZ, we landed ourselves some adjacent seats on the first flight, and spent the next 6 hours strategizing (with support from an eager flight attendant) how we would manage our assorted carry-on luggage for the run from one terminal to the next, in order to attempt our luck with the connecting flight. It was an uncomfortable 6 hours, but the adrenaline from our first foray into international standby travel was flowing, and so the pain that lay ahead did not really sink in until much later.


The standby gods were smiling on us as we raced from one terminal to the next in San Francisco, arriving just in time to board the connecting flight to Hong Kong — we’d all three of us successfully obtained seats on this flight, too.


Middle seats.


And the flight that lay ahead was 16 hours. The longest I’d ever been on a plane in one stretch.


As I squeezed into my allotted 18 square inches, the burden of long haul travel sunk in. I had not slept more than about 20 minutes on the preceding flight, largely because my sweet but largish teenager kept leaning against me in his own pursuit of the elusive unconscious. And now I was squeezed in between two strangers, both of whom seemed to have little concept of physical boundaries, as I soon discovered. Encroaching elbows, arms and legs turned from mildly annoying in the first several hours to claustrophobia-inducing through the middle third of the flight.


After sobbing through “The Art of Riding in the Rain” (I digress, but you gotta see this movie! So sweet!! I’d read the book some years back, and they did a really nice job with the film version) and attempting for a few hours to sleep upright in my narrower-than-I-remember economy class seat, and failing to do so, despite my comfy memory foam pillow, eye patch and noise canceling headphones, I decided to go for a walk and find my partner.


I soon found her, luxuriously stretched out and fast asleep, in the middle of aisle 40, a few rows back on the other side of the plane.


Granted, hers was also a middle seat. But whereas I was sentenced to 16 hours between two man-spreaders in a standard, narrow row of squishy seats in in inadequate armrests, my skinny little girlfriend who can sleep in any position anyway had been assigned to an exit row, the one right next to the lavs, so that she had BAGS of room. Moreover, her seat was ensconced on either side with a solid half wall that firmly delineated her space from that of her neighbours’, hence protecting her from wandering lower limbs.


I considered waking her up and demanding a seat exchange for the remainder of the flight, but I figured it was better for one of us to get a decent night’s sleep than for neither of us to. (My motives were partly selfish: I knew that she would be better equipped to deal with my inevitable meltdown at some point later in the journey if she had slept a while at least.)


So instead I rummaged through her bag for a cheese sandwich I knew she had packed for me earlier, left her a hastily-scribbled note begging her to come find me when she woke up, and ventured to the back of the cabin, where one of the flight attendants indulged with me a cup of hot tea and surprised me with the fact that she was in her 53rd year of working as an FA with United!!! I was very impressed, and stayed a while to shoot the breeze with her and her colleagues, learning a little more about the secret lives of cabin crew on long haul flights such as these. She was gorgeous, by the way. Bright eyes, beautiful white hair and an engaging smile. I can only imagine the adventures she’s had over the years.


My tea and chat finished, I returned to my partner’s row to see if she might be awake now, so that I could have some reprieve from my cramped quarters for a while. Alas, she was slumped forward in her seat, legs splayed out in front of her, with her hood drawn low over hear eyes to block out the light. And still asleep. Blast it!


So I decided to make a quick pit stop on the way back to the man spreaders.


But there is no “quick” on an aircraft of this size. Despite having three lavs right there in the immediate vicinity, all three were occupied, and remained so for the next ten minutes or so. What the temporary inhabitants where doing in there for that long, I don’t even want to imagine, but suffice it to say that by the time one of the tiny stalls finally became available, my bathroom visit of boredom had become one of necessity, and I actually had to pee!!


Sleeping beauty was still, well, sleeping, so I returned to my row, climbed over the lightly snoring man spreader in seat C, and crawled back into my 18 inches. I was unpleasantly surprised to find that the last 8 hours had begun to produce a body and mouth odour from my neighbours that was less than desirable. Convinced I would never sleep again, I resigned myself to writing down my adventures thus far, my typing abilities more than marginally hindered by my tight quarters.


Only 8 hours to go.
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A Morning at Argyle Shore

8/25/2019

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It seems that after a full three months on the island, fate has seen fit to give me one additional “bonus” day here on PEI. (While it’s true that there are wonderful travel benefits that come from being the spouse of an airline pilot, those benefits come with a cost: Confirmed uncertainty!)

After trying twice on standby, I still couldn’t get on a flight back to Toronto. The next possibility being another 12 hours away, I decided to make the best of it, and explore one of my favourite beaches on the south shore, at Argyle provincial park.
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Since I was turned away (again!) at YYG around 6:30 AM, and the park does not open until 9 AM, I made a brief stop at Victoria by the Sea, and then went to the parking lot at nearby Bonshaw provincial park for a nap in the car.


When I awoke, it was 9:30, and after a brief chat with my family to update them about the situation and lament the fact that I would essentially have no time between my arrival in Toronto and my return back to work, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and headed over to Argyle Shores, where I arrived approximately two hours before low tide.
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I always forget what a splendid beach this is when the tide is out; my only other visit this summer was at nearly high tide, when only a narrow ribbon of rocky shore remains walkable.

But now, now endless red sandy beaches were my Oyster!


Very few people had arrived by the time I got there, but the beach was nevertheless busy: Assorted seagulls stomped around determinedly through narrow pools, picking at various tasty bits that the tide had washed in, transparent little shrimp or crayfish scampered around and large schools of tiny fish flitted every which way. Shellfish scuttled about looking for a safe spot to ride out the next few hours; I chanced upon a giant crab racing across one such shallow pool.
Argyle Shores provide an ideal opportunity to experience PEI’s signature red soil; at low tide, rocky shore meets a seemingly endless expense of red sandy beach, and once you’ve made your way down the rickety old wooden staircase, you can walk out quite far, wading between the emerging sandbars.
One of the most beautiful things to behold when flying over the island is its undulating shoreline with the most mesmerizing textures of subtly blending land and water. Here at Argyle shore, you can immerse yourself in it on the ground! While the gradients are incredibly difficult to truly capture effectively with a phone camera (even a good one!) it’s nevertheless a quintessential spot for a few Instagram-worthy shots.
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I first discovered this beach some years ago on my own, with our previous dog, a beagle with short stubby speckled legs who danced along happily behind me along the red shoreline, pausing frequently to sniff here and there. At that time I was amazed by the rich diversity of rock formations, various molluscs and barnacles and other sea creatures, and of course endless red sand.
The next year I wanted to show my boys; alas, I had not looked up the tides, and when we arrived, there was little evidence of the diversity I had described to them. We had to wait another year to (re)discover Argyle Shores.

This time, having both tide and time on my side, I walked further than I ever had before, and came to a little estuary.
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I followed it all the way to the end and saw two beautiful great blue herons.

They wouldn’t let me get close enough to take a photo, but I stuck my toes in the rapidly moving water to assure myself that it was considerably colder than the gently lapping waters of the wide ocean behind it!
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After plopping myself down on a sandbar for a while to feel the warm sun on my back and listen to the sound of the water and the birds mixed with the excited cries of children in the background (with the approach of low tide, more people were slowly starting to make their way to this still semi-secluded spot), I began my slow meander back to the staircase up to the parking lot.
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If you’ve never been to Argyle shore and are planning a visit to the island, I highly recommend visiting this incredible spot. It’s not so much a swimming beach as a walking beach, but it’s a beautiful tribute to this red Island, and well worth the half hour drive out of town. The park itself includes picnic tables (including some covered ones in case of rain), washrooms and showers, and is the perfect spot to spend a morning or an afternoon, after you’ve walked the red sands, rocky shore and tide pools.

While I am still sad about the delay in being reunited with my family today, I am grateful for the unexpected opportunity for one more visit to this beautiful beach!
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Sleeping Around on PEI

8/23/2019

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Some people who knew I was spending the summer on Prince Edward Island were surprised to hear that I spent part of my three months here living in a tent!

Although it’s true I co-own a house, it is typically in use by my co-owner for part of the summer, and we also sometimes rent it out to help pay for the various expenses that come with owning a home and country property. This year in particular, we had several folks stay, as we had to replace the roof last winter (not a cheap endeavour!)
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So, I did get about three weeks in a comfy bed in my room in the house, while spouse and kids were visiting. But at other times, I slept in an assortment of other places!

Last year, I spent a week in a tiny tent behind my music cabin; this year I got a lucky and generous upgrade (thanks to my neighbour whose property I was managing) to a 7 m canvas bell tent! Here I slept for most of June (COLD at the beginning; required warm dog and five blankets!!) and the first half of July.
Sleeping in a bell tent was an interesting experience, and one that certainly brought me closer to nature. I went to sleep each night to the sound of crickets chirping, and awoke each morning to the sound of birds singing and — depending on the month — lobster boats heading out of the bay in the distance.

Sneakers enjoyed it, too, and eagerly ran to the tent’s entrance each night, waiting for me to unzip the door so that she could bound inside for our night of snuggling down under the covers!
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Sleeping so far from a flush toilet also meant creative waste management solutions (being in the over 40 club and a birth mother to twins, there is not a chance in hell that I can make it through an 8-hour night without at least one washroom visit, lol!!)

At first I got ambitious and — after much research in the tiny home and off-grid community — installed a compost bin and commissioned a local guy to build us an outdoor composting toilet, which I kept well stocked from a nearby source of sawdust. I even worked in an outdoor shower with a rain barrel and down spout set up behind the music cabin... but honestly, most nights in the tent I ended up using a chamber pot. #lazy. LOL!!

That said, I did enjoy daytime “business” at the back of the property, with the outhouse door open, gazing into the forest.
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After some weeks in my house, it was back to the tent for me... and eventually, I moved to the music cabin, as the time came to prepare for my departure from the island and return home to Toronto. Here I experimented with sleeping in a hammock, which has provided many deliciously luxurious afternoon naps, but did not work out so well for a full night’s sleep as it turned out.
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In addition to these nighttime adventures, I slept around in the day, too! This included the OG hammock over at my place, under the deck, as well as a new rope hammock at Rick’s, and a cushioned swing inside the dog run.
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Each sleeping partner had its benefits and drawbacks, but overall, I’d say that sleeping around on PEI this summer was a relatively safe and fun experience. Though I am looking forward to getting back to my own bed in Toronto, largely because it often includes a cute pilot (when she’s not away on a layover)!!!
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The Grumpy Professor’s Artist and Mathematician Nature Retreat

7/20/2019

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My neighbour’s property is a little piece of heaven. His nearly 3-acre field bordered by forest/tree line on two sides lies across the road from my 1.74 acres on PEI’s north shore, a short walk from the harbour that is home to shallow waters and a gorgeous view towards the massive, parabolic dune of Greenwhich National Park.

A big big role for me this summer, apart from directly taking care of meal prep and tidying for said neighbour, has been to develop and manage his property.

The Grumpy Professor, as he’s referred to around these parts, is fairly open to ideas, mainly because he doesn’t really care all that much about the property, and is primarily interested in allowing the dog space to romp!

This has allowed me some freedom in my aforementioned development and management.

As I’ve been learning more about historical and current differences in how Indigenous Canadians and Canadians of Settler/Colonial descent view the concept of land “ownership”/use, I’ve been thinking a lot about whose land it all is, really, anyway. As a result, I have been finding opportunities to share “my” property and the one “owned” by our neighbour with others in ways that blends business and philosophy.

We have opened up both our properties to folks who want to camp here, either in their vehicles, their own tent, or one or more tents or small, rustic cabins we have set up on site.
This influx of guests has also allowed my neighbour to get out of his shell a little, and meet some interesting people of varying ages, from a wide range of backgrounds.

As the GP is a huge introvert, and really can live up to his nickname of “Grumpy Professor”, I worded any ads quite carefully to disseminate both the rustic, simple nature of the lodgings (priced accordingly) and the sometimes problematic nature of one of the hosts.

Such calls bring to bear either fellow introverts or mathematicians (the GP is a retired math professor), or folks intrigued by and interested in what we have to offer. Consequently, over the past 6 weeks, we have enjoyed learning about civil war re-enactments from a lone traveler who stayed — bundled in multiple sleeping bags — in Rick’s stargazing cabin in early May, we have delighted in reading the poems on the road of two gals traveling across Canada in their camper van, we have learned to play poker with two young American campers who also hauled wood for us and watered some trees in exchange for the use of our parks pass and wood of their own campfire, and we have enjoyed several communal meals with one or several groups of visitors.

We’ve also had a number of visitors who have just kept to themselves, parked on “our” land for the night on their way to Souris or some other place.
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Observing a red fox meander across the front yard in the morning, or watching a great blue heron fly overhead to the nearby marsh in the afternoon serve as reminders that we share this land with a host of wildlife (beyond the horrid mosquitos... and even the dragonflies — who will eat their share of these small beasts — are starting to appear amidst the wildflowers).

Neither the rabbits in the back forest nor the robin whose nest (complete with three eggs!) is tucked in under the roof of the solar shelter near the front of Rick’s property pay any rent.

The struggle to reconcile what it means to “own” land vs to share it continues inside of me. On the one hand, who am I (or who is Rick) to decide who gets to use the property and when, and how much they should pay us for this privilege? On the other hand, having a well and outdoor shower installed costs money, as does the electricity to pay for the hot water bill. The composting toilet was not free to build and deliver to the back of the property, nor was the fire pit we had built, over which many of the people who stay cook some of their meals.
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And so we ask for a nominal fee from those who stay, and invite cash tips or work exchange from those who feel compelled or are able to contribute more.

A lot of the proceeds (and then some!) are used to pay for the many trees Rick has been planting on his property. He is determined to contribute what he can to the betterment of the environment.
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The two groups currently staying on Rick’s property have really jelled, and we are enjoying the opportunity to break bread together as we hear about their day’s adventures on this island that we call home for the summer. As an added bonus, my mother’s friend is here for a visit, and one of my boys has finally arrived!
It’s so lovely to have everyone together.

I relish my privacy and am very grateful for the privilege of home and land ownership. But I believe that the concept of “ownership” is problematic from an ethical perspective, and there are elements of this summer’s communal living experience that I wish I could enjoy year-round.
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Empathy for New York

4/14/2019

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Being partner to a pilot who frequently flies to Newark as part of her job means I get to tag along on the odd layover, taking advantage of a cheap flight, free hotel and a chance to discover a few more corners of this famous city as I add another 5-6 hours to my New York tourism experience. While I must confess that so far I’ve been more disappointed than impressed (just seems overly loud, busy and materialistic to me personally), I do see the value of familiarizing myself with such an iconic place.

This was my third visit to the Big Apple. It was a warm spring weekend in April; this time we brought one of the kids along for the adventures.
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Each brief sojourn has provided another piece of the puzzle for this somewhat reluctant traveler. This time, we got to visit the site of the former twin towers of the World Trade Center.

I remember exactly where I was when 9/11 happened (a Grade 1/2/3 Spec Ed classroom, as it were), and the complexity of emotions that plagued me both on that day and in the weeks that followed.

Having attended Come From Away (the musical), and read about both the Canadian side of the events (i.e. in places like Gander, NL, that rallied to support so many unexpected and emotionally overwhelmed short term visitors) as well as a book written by a journalist who covered some of the Afghan history and general world political and historical context as well as sharing minutes details of the terrorists’ organization and preparation to intentionally end their lives and so many others, I was eager (if such a word is appropriate here) to visit an American site and see some of the artifacts from this horrific day.

As I had been warned, it was a tremendously emotional experience, even for someone who did not have any personal connection. (I know no one who worked or lived there, and truth be told, I’m generally not a fan of the type of work that such a place represents.) The Americans have done an excellent job of finding a way to impress upon visitors the magnitude, while respectfully honoring the victims and survivors, of 9/11.

It did not feel right somehow to take photos on site, and it is difficult to really capture the whole experience with words, other than to say that it was quite visceral for me.

Surprised by my tears, my partner noted that under any other circumstances, I would not be likely to have a lot of time, emotionally or otherwise, for the sorts of people who typically would have worked at the WTC. (Other than maybe the cleaners.) True as that might be, I could still appreciate that everyone who worked and died there that day would have been someone’s parent, child, aunt or sibling, someone’s friend or neighbour. This context allows me to feel an incredibly strong human connection with them and with those who would have been looking for them, waiting anxiously and increasingly hopelessly as the horrible hours turned into endless days and eventually — for too many — dark weeks and months. And then there is the thought of all those who lived or worked or happened to be walking their dogs in the surrounding area on that fateful morning when one of the most incredible achievements of humanity - a flying machine - was used as a most deadly weapon.

From the accounts of first hand witnesses, the physical/geographical/climactic effects of two massive planes barreling into two giant towers lasted for weeks. The psychological and other impacts would of course have lasted much longer, and the way the site is set up now is a tribute to both that and to the desire for recovery, collective strength and determined progress.

Instead of photos at ground zero, I snapped a few pictures later, at Battery Park and out towards the Statue of Liberty.

Can Americans remember what that iconic symbol once stood for? And can we Canadians find ways to be good neighbors, encouraging and supporting our partners to the south to find new hope, and let this hope and vulnerability— rather than fear and hatred—drive their vision for a more humble and collaborative future?

As we near the end of the second decade after the horrific events of September 11, 2001, and pause to consider the ways in which travel to America (and indeed across the world) has changed since then, one can only hope so.
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A Week in Cozumel

2/5/2019

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It’s been several years since my partner and I have vacationed without the kids. Desperate for a break from the ice and snow and endless cold of a Toronto winter, we decided to escape someplace warm for a week: Mexico.

We’d heard that both the diving and snorkeling were outstanding off the coast of Cozumel, and — too burnt out to do much pre-planning — we elected to book a stay at an all-inclusive resort.

We were not disappointed in our choice of location!
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Having arrived at the resort quite late on the Sat night, we must have seemed a little disoriented when we stumbled out of our villa to breakfast the next morning; despite our pre-vacation research discovery about the perils of the vulture-like timeshare folks on site, we nevertheless lost a good two hours of our Sunday morning to them!

We got a discount coupon at the on-site Spa for our troubles, having elected to forgo a free, all-expenses paid vacation, 25 years worth of priceless memories and a host of other time - limited bonuses.

Sunday afternoon found me getting a much - needed pedicure and practising my admittedly limited Spanish at the resort spa while Tats retreated to the private jacuzzi and sauna. Then we went to grab a bite to eat from the plentiful (and happily still open) lunch buffet before taking a walk in the beach, where we got stuck in the downpour of a massive storm!

Tulum and Cenotes

Despite staying on Cozumel, which is an island, we did want to explore at least some of the better known ruins on the mainland. So on Monday morning we took a taxi to the ferry docks, where the two main ferry companies vyed for our business to carry us across the water to Playa del Carmen. (They offered essentially the same service at more or less identical prices, but the seats on the blue and yellow Ultramar looked marginally more comfortable, so we went with them.)
The one thing we had prearranged prior to leaving Toronto was a customized Airbnb "experience" with a licensed local tour guide. Alejandra picked us up from the infamous Senor Frog's at the Playa side of the ferry terminal, and thus began one of our most adventure - filled days of the whole vacation!

We visited four different cenotes and swam in two of them, including one dark cavern that she illuminated for us with a headlamp so that we could see that we were surrounded by stalactites! We ate fresh mangoes and tried mamey (sapote) for the first time; it's a fruit that belongs to the avocado family.
After showing us first hand the geography and diverse beauty of cenotes, our guide took us to a local taco joint in Tulum. The food was delicious and the wifi was free, so we posted a photo from our adventures and checked in on email, which we'd pretty much neglected since our vacation began.
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The final part of our Airbnb adventure involved visiting the Mayan ruins of Tulum. Our guide had special access to tickets for one hour after the park officially closes, which meant we could explore unencumbered by the usual masses of tourists. It also meant we were able to catch a beautiful sunset view from the famous lookout point.
I had visited Tulum during a high school trip to Mexico many years ago and it felt strange to be standing in this same spot, a few lifetimes later, a grown adult with kids and a job back home, gazing out into the Yucatan peninsula with my beloved.
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All good things must come to an end eventually, and soon it was time to head back to the Playa del Carmen ferry terminal for the 40 minute crossing back to the island of Cozumel.

Beach Day and Books

Since we'd not yet really explored the grounds of the resort where we were staying, we spent most of Tuesday doing just that.

The Occidental Cozumel comprises a collection of 3-story villas, each with a dozen or so suites. The paths that cover the property and lead up to each building are surrounded by mangroves, and as such, it is not unusual to find oneself face to face with a small coati or a large iguana; both roam freely around the property, the first in search of leftover human food and the latter in search of the perfect spot for a sunbath (the adults only pool seems to be a favourite).
Tuesday was also for diving into some of the books we had brought along. In spite of her protests when I picked it out for her at the airport, Tats couldn't seem to put down a nonfiction book about a guy running a cross-desert marathon and some stray dog. I, meanwhile, tucked into a book I'd been meaning to start forever: The Very Marrow of Our Bones, by a Canadian (local - Mimico!!) author.

With full time jobs, teenage twins and too many projects demanding our attention at home, rare indeed is our uninterrupted reading time. So we really enjoyed parking ourselves at the beach for a few hours and getting lost in British Columbia and the Gobi Desert respectively.
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The other thing that happened on Tuesday was that Tats went parasailing for the first time on. She said it was a beautiful and peaceful experience to be soaring high above the blue water with a view of the island unobstructed by the usual aircraft fuselage that's always there even in the cockpit.
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Working Wednesday... And Scuba!

I'm fortunate to have a job that sometimes allows me to leverage technology to telecommute, and since Wednesdays are usually a "work from home" day for me, and since I had a number of meetings to attend and emails to write that couldn’t wait, and since I am always on the lookout for ways to stretch my meagre allotment of vacation days, I decided that this Wednesday would be like every other. Well, except that the temperature was a wee bit warmer than that where I usually work!!

For $12USD, an allegedly reliable Internet connection could be had in ones hotel room. So, while Tats headed off for a day of Scuba diving on Wednesday, I settled in for a full 8 hours of meetings and work-related tasks online.

I spent a good part of the morning working from our tiny balcony overlooking the mangrove. A little bird joined me. Perched on the balcony railing, she seemed to say, "don't worry, I'll keep you company until your workday is done!" It helped considerably.
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Fortunately the sun was still out when my workday was done, and I enjoyed a short swim and a half hour of reading at the beach before supper!

The ability to work off site sometimes is a flexibility I cherish, but truth be told, I’m not sure I’d do that again in this sort of context. Live and learn.

Bar Hopping in Cozumel

I’m not much of a drinker, and in general, the bar scene doesn't really appeal to me. But I'd read about a "must-visit", ocean-side, off-the-grid bar about a half hour (by car) from our hotel, so on Thursday we rented a jeep and decided to do some exploring on the other side of the island.
It had been some time since I had driven a stick shift, and Tats had only had a few lessons from me several years ago in an old Honda Civic, so driving this beat-up old jeep down the main road of a foreign land provided quite the humbling (and entertaining!) experience. Happily, we survived the day without much incident.
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We stopped at a beautiful beach along the way, and went for a swim before heading over to Coconuts, our intended destination. Coconuts bar and grill sits atop a bit of a cliff, which provided a lovely vantage point out over the ocean.


After lunch, we ambled along the various paths and exploring around the bar. We even found a geocache!
While sipping on our fresh squeezed lemonade and munching on some homemade guacamole and nachos, we had chatted with the other couple at our table, who were part of a bar hopping tour from a cruise ship docked in Cozumel for the day. This was their second time on the island, and they highly recommend that we continue our “pub crawl” further down the street to make a stop at Punta Morena, from wence they and their group had just come.

Intrigued by the promise of seaside hammocks, we decided we had to go check it out for ourselves!

Punta Morena turned out everything they promised and more! We ended up spending several hours lounging by the ocean there, and were pleased to find this spacious beach club and bar was not too overrun by tourists. The place offered fish pedicures (We did not partake), relaxed seating directly in the pool, a plentiful menu and as promised, a wide array of seaside hammocks. We enjoyed a quiet early evening reading our books, enjoying more drinks, and (for me) a dip in the ocean.

One More Seaside Bar

As we were not sure whether the lights on our old jalopy worked, we thought we had better head back to our hotel for sunset, so we eventually pride ourselves out of the hammocks and made our way back to the jeep and managed to reverse out of the parking lot and onto the main road without stalling.

As of happened, the lights did work, and so we heeded the call of one last oceanfront tiki bar, This one aptly named “The Liquor Box”!
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The establishment welcomed us with a giant pile of coconuts, and the promise of freshly squeezed, juice-based cocktails. And more hammocks, these ones directly on the rocks overlooking the ocean!
A few sips of my piña colada reminded me of why I generally avoid alcohol. Tats was left with two generously mixed drinks, and once we peeled ourselves out of the hammocks there, it was clear that I would be the one driving “home“.
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Happily, driving stick shift is a little bit like riding a bike; once you’re back in the saddle, muscle memory takes over and everything sort of clicks into place. I quite enjoyed my truck back to the hotel, which was complemented by escapades of my drunken girlfriend, who insisted on riding standing up in the back of the Jeep, singing Russian marches at the top of her lungs, occasionally punctuating these with a fist pump in the air accompanied by a loud “TEQUILA!”

A Snorkeler’s Heaven

Friday it was back to the spa for both of us; a nice Jacuzzi was followed up for me with a massage while Tats studied (as a newer first officer with her current airline, she keeps a strict study regime to stay on top of everything she needs and wants to learn about flying and aircraft systems).

Following that, we embarked on a snorkel tour that picked us up from the pier at our resort and took us to three amazing nearby snorkeling destinations: El Cielo (to see starfish!), Columbia (where we saw sea turtles), and Palancar, where Tats had gone to dive earlier in the week. After that experience, I could see why so many people choose Cozumel as their dive/snorkel destination!
Benefits of a Late Departure

Without the kids’ schedules to consider, we were able to fly back any time. For us, this resulted in a late Sat night departure, which meant we had basically the whole glorious day to enjoy a few last rays of sunshine and one more dip in the ocean.

After procuring a pair of beach chairs, we decided to walk along the beach to the resort next door and do some snorkeling along the shoreline. We saw a starfish, two stingrays, an eel and many small fish. I think the stingray, with its camouflage backside and fluttery edges, was my favourite.
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The local fauna was also out in full force; we sighted a small family of mini-coatis, and four iguanas were sunbathing simultaneously at their usual haunt on the rocks by the pool. It was as though they were putting on their best show for our final day at the hotel!
We enjoyed a final dinner at the buffet and lamented the fact that in a few short hours we would be back in a world where the temperatures had been for the past week as many degrees Celsius below zero as we had enjoyed above zero here on the Yucatan Peninsula, and where we’d have to fend for ourselves when it came to food.

Then it was time to pick up our luggage from the little room where it was waiting for us.

I had to pry Tats away from the hotel lobby and push her into the shuttle along with a few fellow Torontonians who were also heading back to the cold and snow with us that night. She was NOT ready to return home yet (and truth be told, neither was I!)
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Soon enough we were boarding the Air Transat flight from Cozumel back to Toronto and in the blink of an eye, the journey was over and we were stumbling bleary eyed through the door of our apartment, the allure of a week’s worth of laundry enough to lull us to sleep at 4 a.m.

The Cozumel sunsets had already become a distant memory, with only a bottle of tequila and a pound of Mexican coffee which we had brought back as gifts for friends, as proof that we’d been spent a week in that warm, sunny climate!
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15 Minutes of (Queer) Fame

12/11/2018

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One of the things my partner and I remarked on during our recent cruise was how awash in heteronormativity everything felt. The alleged 10-20% of the population that identifies as LGBTQ+ was not well represented on the boat! This made for a somewhat strange personal vacation on our end, despite the many fun activities available during our 7 days afloat.
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While we've worked hard in our personal life to surround ourselves with influences that positively portray the fluidity of our people, the mainstream world around us apparently continues to wallow in a quagmire of clearly defined roles, rules and gender stereotypes.

The literature, activities and announcements on board harp on these stereotypes, and while no one was outright homophobic, it was generally assumed that everyone aboard was "normal", ie straight and aligned with the gender binary.

In the middle of our cruise, there was a game show, based on an actual TV game show, called "Love and Marriage", held in the theatre. It was here that Tats and I elected to challenge the somewhat stifling straight culture that surrounded us.
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On a whim, Tats and I auditioned (if an impromptu queer interpretation of the required ultra-hetero Tarzan scene could be called an audition).... And the next thing we knew, we had won the audience over and found ourselves on stage as one of the three couples selected for the show!

Wedged in between two newlyweds and a husband and wife who had been together for over forty years, Tats and I representated "mid range" (over five years and under 20). We were also the only lesbian couple, and -- I suspect -- probably the only LGBTQ couple they've ever had on the ship's show. As a result largely of this latter fact, we found we gained considerable fame and notoriety; for the remainder of the cruise we kept getting "recognized" wherever we went. This consisted largely of people coming up to us with a big, friendly smile and telling us how much they had enjoyed our performance, and the occasional person yelling, “sing in Russian!“ across a room at Tats, because of a response I had given to one of the questions asked during the game show.

While it was a little disconcerting to be thrust into the public eye like that, it was in some ways a not altogether unfamiliar feeling. As a parent of monozygotic twins, I've become accustomed some level of notoriety (this was especially true when Alex and Simon were small and more easily recognizable as a “pair”).

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Also, people who talked to me and Tats were overwhelmingly positive, restoring my faith in humanity to a certain degree -- we'd been a tad anxious that the heteronormative schema of our floating country would outweigh our obvious cuteness as a couple and our clear "stage presence" (haha), but it would appear that the world of cruisers has had enough exposure to #loveislove wherever they live on land to be reasonably accepting of our brand... At least for an evening's entertainment!
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And so, we enjoyed our proverbial 15 minutes of fame.
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Caribbean Adventure - Part 1

12/4/2018

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I’ve only ever been on one cruise in my 45 years, and it was more than half a lifetime ago. So, I was looking forward to a week-long break from the cold rainy weather we’ve been having in Toronto and from the monotony of work. Here is the first part my travel blog for this adventure with Tats, Rick and the boys...

Day 1 - Arrival in Puerto Rico

We arrived in Puerto Rico on the afternoon of December 1, after a 4-hour flight from Toronto. Our travel agent had suggested booking the flight a day early, in case of delays, and extending our weeklong vacation by one day by spending an overnight in San Juan. Although it’s not my usual style to do that sort of thing (I’d be more inclined to pack it in tight, and step directly off the plane and into a cab to the cruise ship terminal, LOL!), I’m really glad we took her advice.

What a delightfully surprising place Puerto Rico is: Warm, breezy weather, beaches within walking distance of where we were staying, and awesome vegetarian options on pretty much every restaurant menu we stopped to read! With its Spanish colonial architecture, Old San Juan reminded us a little of Havana... Minus the 1950s cars, of course. But a very similar vibe. So bizarre that this place is technically part of the US.
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View from our balcony in San Juan
The Airbnb where the five of us spent the night was in the Old Town, and we were lucky enough to be graced with a waiter at dinner here who was studying political science. He educated us a bit about PR.

The little island has a long history of colonization, first by the Spanish, then by the Americans. Schooling continues to happen in Spanish, but everyone here seems to speak fluent English, too.

Technically, PR is not a US state. The citizens here do not vote for the president or senators. But they do have some representation in government that is supposed to advocate on their behalf. This is generally met with limited success (as evidenced by the US government's horrifically negligent response after the recent hurricane here).

The result is an urban and rural landscape that is in many ways stereotypical of so many Latin American countries, but at the same time dotted with the undeniable influence of the US - Walmart, KFC, McDonalds and the like are as easily found here as in any American city. From our brief observations, though, the Latin culture is alive and well - sitting on the balcony of our Airbnb this first evening of our travels, the cadence of Spanish conversations waft up from the small groups of people gathered here and there in the street below, and the lyrics of the pop music emanating from the bars and restaurants are almost exclusively in Spanish.
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With the kids and Rick tucked safely into their beds, Tats and I decided to explore a little bit, and walked around town to the portlands, where we enjoyed some live music and tried with limited success to practise our Salsa moves in a local square!

Sunday, Dec 2 - Day 1 of Cruise
After a tasty breakfast at a cafe down the street from our Airbnb, we walked to a nearby beach for one last swim in the ocean before heading back to our rooms to pack up our bags and make our way via Uber to the Pan American cruise terminal (as Tats and I had discovered The night before, our Royal Caribbean cruise ship was setting sail from there rather than the closer terminal within walking distance). We learned from our Uber driver that after the storm, Puerto Rico found itself with an unemployment rate of over 14%. As a result, the Government became more open to "disruptive technologies" such as Uber, in hopes of finding solutions to the high unemployment rate.

Now it was time to board the ship. The terminal was an example of organized chaos: People crowded into various clusters to drop their luggage off at designated areas, then moved on to the security line and then on to yet another line to get checked in.
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Everyone was very friendly, which we soon found would be a theme for this cruise. Staff everywhere smiled and welcomed us aboard, and experienced cruisers offered us helpful tips.
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The boat itself was ENORMOUS! We were excited and a little overwhelmed by everything on offer!! Once we had settled into our tiny srateroom and done a little umpacking, the boys ran off to explore the ship while Vera and Tats went to Hogi's room (one level down and at the other end of the ship!) to check in on him. While the teenagers disappeared into the bowels of the gigantic marine playground the the adults enjoyed a buffet lunch overlooking the small airport next to the dock, and sorted out the week's dining plan.
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After ironing out a few other logistical details and attending our respective musters for the obligatory safety demonstration, we reconvened for dinner in the main dining room. A tasty array of options were offered, and everyone found something to suit their taste.
Afterwards, the boys once again dashed off on their own, this time to attend some teen club activities, and the adults found their way to the pool deck to watch the ship set sail.
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Another boat at the San Juan pier
Afterwards, Tats and I went dancing, took a stroll through the shopping area, played a game show, attended a performance and even saw a shooting star from the helipad before heading back to the room before midnight, where we found the boysies, teeth brushed, in their bed awaiting their mommies! (The deal was that everyone had to be in bed with teeth brushed by midnight.)

Dec 3 - Cruising to Curacao (Day at Sea)

After a somewhat restless night, Alex and I got up early-ish (8 am) and headed off to the library. While Alex wrote in his journal, I tried to capture the first few days in notes and photos on my phone, determined to post a blog at the earliest opportunity for free wifi!

While we waited for the others to wake up so that we could ask go to breakfast, I reflected on the advantages and disadvantages of life (as an amployee) on a cruise ship. Already we’d met folks from Ukraine, China, St. Vincent, the Philippines and the UK. This appealed to me. What an interesting work environment and a place for the incubation of diverse perspectives! But I know there are other considerations… for example I know from a family friend who spent a few seasons as a performer on a boat, as well as from my schema as an airline pilot's wife, that there are different “classes” of employment. Not everyone enjoys the same salary, living quarters or other benefits. Nevertheless, for the young, unattached worker, cruise ship life must offer a tremendous opportunity to do a bit of traveling, and meet people from all over the world, and even learn a few snippets of different languages over time. Nevertheless it must be an odd sort of life, too, with people constantly coming and going, as contracts and and new ones begin for different crew members. I remember from our friend, that constantly saying goodbye can be one of the greatest challenges of cruise ship life, and I heard that again from a personal trainer I met later on the cruise.

Our day at sea was relaxed but not boring. While having breakfast at the main buffet, we ran into Simon and Rick. Once we'd finished eating, I took everyone outside and showed them the helipad. We then deposited Rick on a lounge chair on the same deck, and the boys went off to enjoy some teen club activities while I return to our room to discern whether or not to Tats were still alive. She was, and had just woken up from a long slumber.

The rest of the day included some individual activities independent of one another, and a common lunch followed by shuffleboard on the promenade deck – – just like the 1950s!
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Ricky relives his youth
Then the boys and Tats went off to watch the “sexiest man” competition up on the pool deck, while I attempted a nap. A trivia challenge we had been hoping to take part in that afternoon got canceled, but everyone managed to find other activities to suit them, including a movie (for the boys) and a drawn-out Italian dinner with a delightful sunset view (for the adults). A few of us also enjoyed the evening marquee show, one of the ship’s spectacular live entertainment options.
Given our early arrival the next morning in Curacao, we decided on a relatively early bedtime, with lights out by about 10:30 PM.

Tuesday, Dec 4 - Curacao

Another restless night for me, though thankfully everyone else seemed to fare OK. By about 6:30 AM, I couldn’t bear the too soft/uncomfortable mattress any longer, and decided to abandon my tossing and turning iin favor of getting out of bed to enjoy a peaceful morning on the promenade deck.

By 7 AM, the helipad already had a few spectators gathered; it seems I was not the only one with the idea to use this vantage point to observe our arrival in Curaçao. Collectively, we observed a rainbow, and land ahead, and in the ocean around us, the first ships we had seen in a long time. We were no longer alone in this big body of water!
I found a deck chair on a more abandoned side of the promenade deck and enjoyed a moment of peace and quiet while capturing the previous afternoon’s events in writing.

Soon, I felt a distinct change in the movement of our big ship. The gentle rocking of the open water had ceased, and leaning out over the rail, I could see another enormous cruise ship ahead of us. We had landed in Curaçao!

After snapping a few more photos of our arrival and the set-up by the crew down below, I went back to the room to wake up the kids and head over to breakfast in the main dining room.
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Curaçao is a former Dutch colony, and the influence is clearly seen in both architecture and the languages spoken on the island.
Tats had arranged for herself and the boys to do their open water dives as part of their scuba certification here, and so we walked through the city and on to “the Dive Bus“, about 3.5 km from the ports.

While the walk was not particularly long, the heat and humidity made it quite arduous, and we stopped about halfway for a lemonade, and decided at that point that those of us who are not up for the walk would continue on in a taxi. #BestFifteenDollarsEverSpent

Soon we arrived at the dive bus, and Alex, Simon and Tatsy got sorted out for their dive, while Rick and I rented some snorkel gear to use at the little beach across the street.
I was amazed at the variety of fish in such a small reef! Gorgeous colors, and fish in all shapes and sizes.

Afterwards, we walked down the road a little and settled in for a few hours a nicer beach, in a rented cabana, where we enjoyed pizza and the ocean breeze. Unfortunately, like so many places, this establishment insisted on blasting and noisy pop music, so our beach sojourn was not as relaxing as it could have been. However, it was nice to lie down and have a little rest on such a hot day!

I had lugged my novel along intending to start it now, but decided to take a little nap instead.

Afterwards, we walked back to the Dive Bus to meet Tats and the boys, who were just returning from their dive!
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This brings us to the end of the first part of this travel blog; we shall see if and when another free Wi-Fi opportunity permits a second installment!
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Simon and Alex with ridiculously large boat in background
P.S. So blogging takes longer than spotty wifi permits--so this was finally posted while waiting on the ground at UYZ for our gate!
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    About Vera...

    Vera and her sons, Christmas 2010
    After writing for several teacher and multiple birth publications, including ETFO's Voice Magazine, Multiple Moments, and the Bulletwin, Vera turned her written attention to prolific blogging for some years, including BiB,  "Learn to Fly with Vera!"  and SMARTbansho .  Homeschooling 4 was her travel blog in Argentina.  She now spends more time on her Instagram (@schalgzeug_usw)  than her blog (pictures are worth a thousand words?!) Contact Vera by clicking the photo above.
    DISCLAIMER
    The views expressed on this blog are the views of the author, and do not necessarily represent the perspectives of her family members or the position of her employer on the the issues she blogs about.  These posts are intended to share resources, document family life, and encourage critical thought on a variety of subjects.  They are not intended to cause harm to any individual or member of any group. By reading this blog and viewing this site, you agree to not hold Vera liable for any harm done by views expressed in this blog.
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Vera C. Teschow, OCT, M.Ed., MOT
Toronto, ON & St Peter's Harbour, PE
www.verateschow.ca 2014
Photos used under Creative Commons from Sean MacEntee, Studio Paars, Bengt Nyman, zeevveez, GoodNCrazy, CJS*64, Accretion Disc, CharlesLam, Courtney Dirks, CJS*64 "Man with a camera", Accretion Disc, Bobolink, Ian Muttoo, BioDivLibrary, Alaskan Dude, IsabelleAcatauassu, runran, Transformer18, jglsongs, Create For Animal Rights, david_shankbone, Paul J Coles, foilman, Newport Geographic, Photo Everywhere, kevin dooley, Claudio , Alex Guibord, Tscherno, f_mafra, Terry Madeley, musee de l'horlogerie, BobMacInnes, wwarby, jonathangarcia, amboo who?, chimothy27, Elin B, cliff1066™, Grzegorz Łobiński, Rennett Stowe, Farhill, Phil Manker, Guitarfool5931, airguy1988, dierk schaefer, Rob Stemple, katerha, StockMonkeys.com, Ramotionblog, andrewk3715, charlywkarl, AJC1, rachel_titiriga