2019 Holiday Travel By Numbers

Stepping across the threshold of our hutong incited a depth of emotions - disbelief that weeks had passed so quickly, awe of what we had seen and done, excitement for our own pillows and a bit of routine, and shock that Christmas was still very present in the hutong. Our packs were heavy, loaded with tangible reminders of the journey - tea, dirty clothes, sarongs that still smelled of salt and sea, stowaway stashes of sand, maps and ticket stubs. There are so many stories yet to write and so many pictures to look through and remember.

Fifty days.

In fifty days, we set foot in four countries and one territory.

From point to point, we traveled 21,758 km or 13,519.8 miles. Our step count was 746,067, for an average of 14,922 per day. We walked 567 km which equals to about 125 hours of walking.

We spent time in seven airports, seventeen times going through security.

Our modes of transportation included nine planes, three trains, seven minivans, one tuk tuk, three songthaews, twelve taxis, two personal cars, and four ferries. 

We stayed in eight hotels, two Airbnbs, and one apartment.

We saw one promise land.

We chased one Pikachu around the world in an effort to catch it for a five year old.

We visited two breweries.

We lounged on two beaches. 

I enjoyed two Thai massages and one Turkish bath. Zach had one Thai massage.

We swam in three different bodies of water.

Zach watched three seasons of Smallville.

We cheered at one professional basketball game in person, and cheered alongside Bahrain locals in the airport for a women's football match.

We returned home with three Starbucks mugs, two ornaments, one artistic Jordanian tile, five types of tea, five Jordanian soaps, one bag of marshmallows, and one patch.

I read 19 books.

Zach read 3400 pages.

We got to visit one Thai emergency care.

We had the honor to reunite and visit with five different sets of friends along the way.

We consumed uncountable amounts of pad thai, falafal, hummus, and Thai tea.

We sampled Jordanian sweets at four bakeries.

This was a holiday filled with extremes - hot to cold, health to sickness, snow to sun. We return to the adopted motherland a bit wearier than usual, but so grateful that we have the privilege to see the world - to be reminded there is so much beauty, culture, and kindness to be experienced. Our motto is always: Die poor, but have lots of stories. 

A Beach Bum Life

Koh Lanta welcomed us with her salt-infused breezes, swaying palm trees, and perpetual sunlight. After tossing our bags into the bungalow we would call home for ten days, we meandered our way to the beach and plopped down for our first afternoon beach siesta. Life was good.

Forty eight hours later, life took a wonky turn when I woke up with excruciating pain and severe vomiting - my body hated me. It was angry to be still dealing with whatever infection I had contracted in Jordan, therefore it tried to smote me. The run to an island urgent care (in a tuk tuk) involved a lot of IV fluids, lab tests, and pain meds. I left with a nice stash of drugs and instructions to rest and drink. If there is a place to recuperate from a yucky sickness, it is a tropical island.

I slept in the bungalow. In my bouts of lucidity, I gazed at gorgeous tropical plants surrounding our front porch. 

I slept on the beach. In my moments of awake, I watched the puffy, pristine white clouds pass overhead while listening to the lapping of waves. Sometimes I nestled myself within a sand bed so that my lower body was in the water and my upper body laid on the sun-toasted sand.

Zach ensconced himself within his hammock to read, listen to podcasts, and doze.

We read. A lot.

I swayed in Zach's hammock while he jaunted off for our afternoon Thai teas.

Life in Koh Lanta was wonderful; a circular existence of wake up, eat breakfast on the porch, go to the beach, swim/read/watch the world/sleep, watch the sunset, return to the bungalow to shower, go to eat dinner, go to bed, repeat. Even though it held a blip of inconvenience (our first major illness in any of our travels), we survived and walked away from the island quite rested and ready to face the grand travel finale - Taiwan.

Return to the Tropics

No matter where we may roam, I have come to the understanding that I have an Asian soul. The hustle bustle. The sounds. The smells. The laissez-faire attitude towards time. The warmth. The unpredictability. The gigantic flowers. Stepping off the plane into Bangkok, my soul sighed and squeezed itself with happiness.

Our transit in Bangkok was to be rather quick, as we were bound for tropical beaches, azure seas, and to fulfill our true calling in life as beach bums. However, before we planted ourselves on a beach, we did a one day/two night layover for three reasons - Bon, Basketball, and (Taco) Bell.

Bon got a better offer, but we would catch up over a fantastic lunch on our last day in Thailand many days later, so we still adore her.

There was a basketball team on our very first flight of the holiday from HKG to DMK. Intrigued to see a multi-nationality team wearing the same logo, I started a conversation with one of the guys somewhere 35,000 feet in the air. His name was Mike and he introduced me to the world of the ASEAN basketball league and his team, the Mono Vampires. That evening, I looked at the schedule and realized that we would return to Thailand the day before a game. Therefore, we decided to layover in Bangkok an extra night in order to enjoy a new experience.

To reach the stadium was a trek - a lot of BTS and a twenty minute taxi ride. We were rather perplexed why a team would be so far outside the city center, but realized upon our arrival that it was a building built specifically for the team. Such an endeavor would be practically impossible closer to downtown. Nonetheless, the stands were full and the atmosphere quite energetic.

The team had been on a losing streak, but we were pleased that the streak was broken this day by beating the Zhuhai Wolf Warriors, a Chinese team. After the final buzzer, we made a point to find Mike and thank him for a great game and the information. We actually ended up meeting and chatting with his wife and in-laws.

Returning downtown, we sought out the hottest new restaurant in town - Taco Bell. There was a line, but we felt it was worth it for the experience of eating at a Taco Bell outside the USA (though while waiting, Zach and I could not remember the last time we ever ate at one in the USA.) While we waited, one father kept taking pictures of his wife and son in front of the restaurant. When I asked if they wanted one to together, his son answered no thanks and that his dad was being a bit overzealous. As I chuckled he explained that he had gone to the USA years ago for a summer work exchange and had worked at a Taco Bell. Ever since then, his dad wanted to see and understand this place. This was their moment.

Was it everything we hoped and dreamed? Did it instigate a barrage of nostalgic moments? Considering neither of us could recall the last time we had stepped foot into a Taco Bell, this was more of a because-we-can with a dash of curiosity to see how Thais would change the taste. The menu is simplified and the food a touch spicy. It was good.

With our Bangkok tasks completed, we turned our thoughts to the days of sun and sea to come - Koh Lanta was the next destination.   

Bahrain, Sponsored by Joe Frazier

Jordan rocked our bodies – the filthy air and spastic climate shifts wreaked havoc. We flew away very congested and talking like lifetime smokers (which I consider a mild success considering we live in a very dirty country! I guess different dirt meant different germs.) While we had some great moments and checked a handful of things off the travel bucket list, we were ready to be on the move towards warmer climates and beloved beaches. However, between here and there, we had an overnight stop in Bahrain.

I must note that I am one who loves the idea of trying new airlines. With a lot of air miles spanning a large swath of airline carriers, the opportunity to try a new one is always a source of delight for me. Every peninsula airline we have flown has been stellar…until Gulf Air. Alas, every region has its ugly duckling and we found it on this journey. The best summation I can give the airline is they work very hard to not work. Our entire journey with them was a disaster and their promised overnight layover plan was a debacle. After a lot of fighting and sentences which included phrases such as “please just do your job”, we were allowed to leave the airport for a few hours in a hotel. Granted, this was not free – we were actually paying them for this service and they still did not want to do it. The biggest surprise of this situation was that the airline did not accept credit cards, only cash (and they wonder why they are having financial difficulties.) Early in our travels, we learned that if something is going to go wrong, it will and it will usually involve money. Thus, we tend to carry between five and seven currencies with us on every trip. We have an emergency stash for moments such as this one.

During last summer, I stumbled across a random envelope in my backpack with my name on it, written in my dad’s handwriting. It was weeks after our jaunt to the parental abodes, so I was shocked to find it stashed low in a pocket. Upon opening, I discovered a note and some cash. My dad.

It became our emergency travel fund.

Fast forward five months, Zach and I are standing at the Gulf Airlines customer service desk, well past midnight, bewildered that a major airline only accepts cash. Zach looks at me and says, “We will use our emergency money.” He walked away to find the exchange kiosk.

Fifteen minutes later, the Bahrain customs officer chuckled at our enthusiasm for a new country stamp and welcomed us formerly as he handed over our passports.  I grabbed mine and declared, “Bahrain, sponsored by Joe Frazier.”

Eight hours in a country is not a lot, but thanks to the hotel being the furthermost point from the airport and still considered in the city limits of Manama, we saw most of the city – by night and by day. There is a lot of sand, tall buildings, and wide roads. In the early morning, the masses converge to the open areas by the sea to play football. There is some interesting street art. The few people we came into contact with were quite friendly – even spending some time in the airport lobby cheering for the women’s football team alongside locals (who absolutely loved that we loved football.)

Rested, showered, and our passports bearing a country stamp, we boarded our plane bound for Bangkok and so grateful that we would never have to take another Gulf Air flight again.