Would you go on vacation by yourself, and if so where would you go? Submitted by Sean & Stefan. I’ve done it before & I’d do it again. The first time was when I was 24. My oldest brother, Brian, who lived in San Francisco at the time, had jus…
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Having spent the past few days reading through travel guides, getting inspiration for our trip and making some destination decisions, I have become even more interested in visiting this extraordinary natural beauty. Can’t wait to see it in real…
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It’s sort of chilling to be back in Champaign Urbana. I came back this weekend to return my apartment back to my landlord, close out my bank account and other such activities… to wrap up my Champaign life. It’s been 4 fantastic years here, and I can only say that it was extremely memorable. So much so, that it was scarey to be back in Champaign even though I have only been gone for two months. I mean, I have been gone from Champaign for only a little while, but this span of time, so much has happened. I suppose also, every time I have left, I have considered Champaign home when I returned. This time, I was just visiting. All my possessions were here every time I left and this is where I belonged. Now, it’s only the city I went to college at. When I was leaving my apartment again yesterday, I felt as though I was going to class. I don’t know, perhaps this is why alumni always have such an awed look on their face when they walk around campus. Perhaps looking at Kam’s reminded them of that one girl they banged freshman year of college. I don’t know, this whole weekend has an odd feeling.
Wednesday really showed us how crazy our schedules are. And not just ours. But also our friends!
We were to leave Huntsville on a morning flight and arrive in Salisbury, Maryland somewhere around 4:30 that evening. I honestly can’t even remember which airport we spent the greater part of the day in — oh, yeah: Charlotte, NC.
Lynne and Charlie played the favorite husband-wife game of who gets which car today…keeping in mind that we had luggage to get to the airport. The plan became that Lynne would drive the wagon, and Charlie switched the appropriate contents of each car into the other before he left for work.
Lynne soon realized that she didn’t have the keys to the wagon. Actually the keys were in Charlie’s raincoat. Now in the car Charlie had driven to work. A quick phone call and he returned and we hustled away. Amazingly, we had enough time to grab a quick bite to eat at Cracker Barrel (I’m going to miss those in another week!) and went through security with no problems at all.
We sat in Charlotte, had a nice lunch, and patiently waited for our flight. We left a bit early and arrived in Salisbury several minutes ahead of schedule. What a deal!
We walked from our plane to the luggage claim, and while I waited for the bags Jim walked over to the spot where people were checking in. Up walked Gary and Karen who were on their way to Miami for a couple of days. He handed off his car keys, came over to the luggage claim, we all hugged, claimed our bags, strolled out to the car (parked in the 5 minute zone) and Jim and I were on our way to THEIR house to switch some clothes in our suitcases before borrowing their car for the next week to drive all over the southeast. THEY were en route to Miami and would return in a couple of days before Gary would then head to Utah. Are we all crazy?
That night we had so much fun sitting up with our friends Nick and Martha, solving the problems of the world. They have a beautiful home on the river… what a great respite before driving, driving, driving.
We left the next morning…the farewells were easy because we knew we’d see them for at least one evening again in a week. As our time in the States ends, and as we actually think about good-byes AGAIN, we are so very thankful for the support (prayerfully and financially) that old friends and new friends offer us. Their love and encouragement is what God uses to keep us going!
Trying not to think about leaving, but so glad to be going home. Go figure.
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I finally finished uploading my pictures from the Glasgow ATLAS Overview week trip. Including the one extra day I took to look around (mostly ended up sleeping, taking a train to Edenborough, and then a train back for a very good dinner with Hal).
I learned a lot at that meeting. This shouldn’t surprise me any more, but as usual only about 1/2 of what I learned was at the sessions themselves and the other half was over dinner. I didn’t learn as much as I thought during the coffee breaks: but that is because I was almost always last in line and thus spent almost the whole coffee break in line (20 minutes, and 400 people, and 2 lines. ;-)).
The setting was quite stunning. Glasgow university is a beautiful place. The conference was very well run. My only difficulty was the networking — which was awful. So many ports were blocked I couldn’t use VPN to get a good connection back to University of Washington. At the dorm room they had blocked the ports that my online music service uses to play music. :(
One of the social programs was a short talk by a university professor whose hobby was… wait for it… scotch. And then a short tasting (graciously funded by the various manufacturers). I know some people have a huge passion for this stuff, but I just don’t get it. I can taste the differences, but… well… I didn’t purchase any to bring back with me — lets leave it at that.
This is it: RAGBRAI. Soon I shall be setting out for Rock Rapids, IA for some serious biking.
RAGBRAI will be a nice time. Not only will I burn out by biking a whopping 470+ miles in merely a week’s time, but I’ll have a solid seven days to spend with the parents. My sister Kim plans to come join us for a couple of nights. This week will be one to remember.
They say that once you’re out of the house, you have to make a point to spend time with your family, the ones you left behind. I’m not one to oppose this in the least, but at the same time, I find myself forgetting more and more to actually make the time. Why does that happen? What makes it more difficult?
Ha, why do I even ask that question. It’s obvious: Not only do we grow up, but we grow out. Our branches extend, stretch out and slowly escape, growing the distance between them and their roots. It’s natural, you see, to eventually make a break from the ground, and move up and out. Grow, grow! See us grow? Mothers and fathers, thank you. But now, you see what we need to do. You understand we need to part ways, if for the time being.
(P.S. I plan to post updates about the trip when and where I can, as we’ll have the evenings/nights after the daytime ride. Also, I’m going to be housing my camera along my bike during the entire ride each day and take photos as we go, so I hope to get a flickr account going and post the highlights. Please look out for them!)
-Noah
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Update: >San Francisco Street Artists (0507-001) on Photoduniya.com
Jeffrey, or Jeff in short, plays the tuba. Unconventional in dress and style, Jeff’s been playing the instrument for quite some time. The day time keeps him busy with his full time job, and the evenings practicing at home or playing on the streets for a few dollars.
Jeff with his tuba @ photoduniya.com
Shot on Nikon D200 @ 800 ASA, 400 mm hand held & speedlight Nikon SB 600. The images have also been uploaded on photoduniya.com Projects.
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It’s past 1 am now and am in the de Guzman’s dining room, ’silently typing’, Maria says. How nice. In a few hours, 4:30 am, she, her son Ching, Ching and I will haul off to the airport and depart for Vietnam. How nice.
Anyway, my flight from Manila was nice. (I like to say nice over and over again because it’s nice.) I did feel sentimental though and tears were just sneaking up and rolling down my face from the cab going to the Centennial airport to the many queues of immigration. At the boarding area, I started reading Paulo Coehlo’s The Witch of Portobello that Maya lent that morning, and emotions kept swimming to shore. (It’s the second day of my period so my emotional hyper-sensitivity is not surprising. At this time of the month, weeping is as predictable as the next Singapore train.)
Anyway, the three-hour flight was comfortable and I enjoyed PAL’s lunch. I would read, doze off and read again. Sometime in between, I filled up the required Information Form handed out by the flight attendant. Reading the leaflet that came with it, I noticed a line that said there are no duty/excise concessions on tobacco products. Below it was a short enumeration of duty free goods (basically one bottle of hard liquor, wine and another one I can’t recall). I wasn’t sure what this meant until I landed in Singapore soil.
While waiting to pass through immigration, I messaged La Maria: I have a ream of cigarettes. Do I need to declare it? She replies: Throw it away. Keep one that’s open. Not allowed here. You’ll be fined.
After a minute, she calls and hands the phone to Randall who advised me the same, warning that the fine is in big dollars (200!).  My, just as I suspected.
Immediately after immigration let me through, I grabbed my checked-in luggage, changed my pesos, proceeded to the toilet and with a heavy heart began dumping my Marl Reds into the trashcan. I made sure to keep the opened pack in my handbag. But then,  I couldn’t resist resisting the law. I opened another pack and tucked it in my knapsack. Now I have two. Not one as per friends’ instruction.ÂÂ
I trudged to the Duy Free Liquor shop and got Maria’s Absolut Apeachy. Then I searched for the exit and found the door of nothing to declare. It was empty except for two airport officials. Expecting that my bags will be checked, I headed towards then. But before I can get to them, I caught sight of flailing arms right across the glass exit door. Ah! There was my welcome party of three - Claire, Yoj and Randall excitedly motioning me to go out.
Of course, the first thing I remarked about was my dumped cigs. “Di bale, may surprise sa yo si Randall at si Alfred”, they kept consoling me. How nice.
And to think it did not even occur to me to bring cigs had not Belinda reminding me at the groceries the night before that they will be expensive in Sing.
Haha. How nice that I have this story to tell.
Stay tuned. 
P.S. I finished this entry here at the Changi Airport while Ching, Maria and I are waiting to board for Ho Chi MinhÂÂ
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The past two days were absolutely beautiful. I really cannot complain.
In an hour, we’ll be off. . . whisked away to JFK for home, shower, bed, sleep, work, repeat. Today is bittersweet. It was chilly this morning–the loveliest day I’ve ever seen in New York. The first two trips were in February/March during those “surprisingly cold for this time of year” weeks. And then it was hot. But these past two days left me speechless. New York, you’re such a tease. As if I am not set on you already.
Instead of waiting for New Year’s Eve, I made a July resolution. From now on, I am going to write a food blog about every new place I eat. As an exercise, I will start with all the places I ate in New York, including our repeat favorites. I did eat at a lot of new places this trip, so it will take me a while to do my homework, but I’ll keep you in the loop. I’m thinking a separate food blog, but I have to figure that one out.
I am teetering on a really big decision regarding my photography. I sold my D200 because it was too much power and too bulky. I am not into nature or sports photography, and I don’t need to shoot one hundred frames per second, etc. I like small, intimate cameras that are unassuming and leave the subject relaxed. So I have to choose: quality or ease of use. I can’t afford the Leica that I really want which combines the two. Film: Voigtlander rangefinder or digital: pseudo-boring SLR Canon/Nikon. I can’t decide, and I’ve been thinking long and hard for two months. Film leaves me loving my camera, but the cost and archival time swallows me whole, especially when I usually only scan the prints to post them online. I just don’t know. Should I go back to film for a few years until I can afford the M8 replacement, or is it time to quit the addiction and admit we live in a digital era?
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I do not know why I have such a dislike for taxies. As for as long as I can remember, I have avoided them. But when I travelled a lot for work, I did not have much choice in the matter. So I have used taxies in Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. However, I find that you get different types of cab drivers in the different cities. There are some that I like and some that I do not. I would say that the proportion of cab drivers in the “I like” category are approximately: Adelaide (75%), Melbourne (80%), Sydney (20%), Brisbane (50%). ÂÂ
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