Author: Nathalie

Travelling. It is the dream of many. Discover new countries, new cultures, new food and meet new people…. But behind the nice pictures and the cool stories, are also occasional moments of stress caused by annoying little mess ups. These stories are worth telling too as they are simply part of life.

As it so happens, I had several of these moments while travelling from Osaka, Japan to Noosa Heads, Australia.

It started at Osaka airport where my flight got delayed with one hour. I was flying on Scoot, a company I did not know as my ticket said Tiger Airways Singapore. Apparently the former merged with the latter. More importantly, they are both low-cost carriers. Just how low-cost, I would discover in the hours that followed. No lounge to wait, on board seats that are barely reclinable, a ridiculous small lunch (literally 3 bites and it was gone), only 2 complimentary drinks on board and no breakfast. All this I discover 30 minutes before take-off. I will admit that the creole person in me switched to panic mode. With two flights ahead of a total of 13 hours, I knew I needed to act quickly. So in a hurry I bought a bottle of mineral water and a meat sandwich. That’s right, weighing my options of a) disrespecting my vegetarian diet (a concept that’s a bit of a novelty to the Japanese) or b) going hungry, I opted cow-ardly for disrespect.

Because of the delay, the already short lay-over in Singapore, became an even bigger challenge. A short 40 minutes to change aircrafts, so I had to get into the Run-Forrest-Run mode. Have you ever seen me run? No? Exactly.
Quite miraculously I made it though. Can’t say my suitcase did. So there I was at the Gold Coast (Coolangatta) airport: stinky, still hungry and without suitcase. Oh well, I thought, let’s just get going to my hotel and hit the shower. A friend of mine (he will recognise himself) told me it was only a short distance from the airport. One bus, two trains, another bus and total travelling time of 4.5 hours later I did finally arrive. Let’s just say Aussies have a different frame of reference.

Arriving in vibrating Noosa Heads pumped me up immediately. I can read the signs in the streets again, recognise the food on my plate, listen in on conversations (yes, I do that), and rekindle with my old friend: the sea. The uncomfort of not having your stuff, is just….. well, fluff.

 

p.s.: I got to witness the sunrise from the plane – it got to me again.

After two calm days of “just being” in Osaka and taking in the atmosphere, I visited Kyoto today. Another large city, but with a much older feel to it, probably because of the many historical temples and shrines. When I left my hotel this morning, I imagined myself being submerged in spiritual reflection while strolling from one holy place to another.

Well…. not quite.

Surprisingly enough, I was not the only person with the idea of visiting Kyoto. Busloads of tourists were unloaded on the parking lots around the shrines and temples, spreading themselves in multiple streams flowing through the narrow streets. Once you get caught in it, you cannot do anything else but float along. Carefully you scan for little openings for an escape, even as briefly as a minute, to take in the scenery. I write carefully because there is a constant danger of having your eyes poked out by a sunbrella or colliding with the evil of all evils: the selfie-stick.

Despite the interesting history of the different sites (two of which are on UNESCO’s World Cultural Heritage list) and the stories about their construction, most people seem to have come for two things only: selfies and luck (selfish luck?).

I remember standing opposite the temple Kinkaku-Ji (Temple of the Golden Pavilion) whose image is reflected beautifully in the Kyôko-chi (the Mirror Pond). Still, almost everybody had their backs turned to the spectacle and eyes were instead directed upwards as in worship to their own reflection held up high by the selfie-stick. Minutes pass until finally the perfect selfie has been obtained and the temple is left behind without a second look.

The hunger for the perfect selfie is only forgotten (briefly) when in front of the opportunity to buy luck. Truly an astonishing amount of money is spent on lucky charms.

I once read somewhere that superstition is a sign of ignorance. That surrounded by situations we do not fully understand, we lazily look for an easy way out. We gladly chuck responsibility for our decisions out of the window and rather put our fate in lucky charms. Sometimes no money is spent. Instead a ritual is carried out religiously, hoping for some ready-made luck to prevent a problem from occurring.

The thing is though: everybody believes in luck. Highly educated and/or succesful people are known as well to carry a lucky charm on them or do a certain ritual for continuous luck. I admit ending up doing some of the suggested rituals. You never know, right?

But I did not take a selfie while doing it.

 

 

 

 

 

I have arrived at my second destination of my trip around the world: Osaka in Japan. The country has intrigued me ever since I saw these super weird Japanese game shows on tv. I figured a country with tv shows like that, must be worth a visit.

So far, I have not been disappointed in terms of weirdness. Stepping into my hotel room, I find in front of me a range of neatly lined up slippers and a sign that tells me shoes are forbidden in the room. This was also the case in Yangon so, pre-trained, I automatically take off my shoes and put on a pair of slippers. I walk over to the desk and I find a leaflet with hotel information. The first page covers general information: emergency exit, guest room information and …. hang on, what do I read? Darn, there are two types of slippers. Room slippers and bathing/spa slippers. Looking closer I realised I picked the wrong ones.

After correcting my error I continue reading the leaflet. Pages two and three (!) are covering Bathing Room Rules and Etiquette. That’s an awful lot of rules to remember. I also read that the Bathing Room is opened from 06:00 – 09:00 hrs and from 15:00 – 25:00 hrs. Probably a typo. Or is it? Turns out it is perfectly normal in Japan. It means open till 1 am.

The Japanese really seem to have a thing for cleanliness. The hotel room is absolutely spotless (wearing the right pair of slippers helps). Also, the toilet comes equipped with a sophisticated looking panel where you can set the temperature of the toilet seat and of the water. You might think “why would my number 1 or 2 care about the water temperature whilst being flushed?” but it is not about the flushing water. No, no, no. It is the water that will spray your private parts after the work is done. Spray/soft/bidet, you can even set the water pressure, nozzle position or, in case of a particularly smelly disposal, activate the power deodorizer. Contrary to how that sounds, the air will not suddenly be filled with cherry bottom, sorry – blossom, scent. Instead, the air you just let out, will simply be sucked up and passed through a filter. Yeah, it blew me away too.

Speaking of cherry blossom, to end on a less weird note, it is spring in Osaka and I was hoping to see Japan’s famous national flower in Osaka Castle Park during my visit there this morning. Apparently I arrived one week too late; there were only a few blossoms left. Still gorgeous though.

 

This morning’s sunrise left me wondering all day. What was it that touched me so much? The magic of witnessing a new day being born? Why magic though? There’s one every day after all!

When I walked up that viewpoint it was pretty much still dark. I realised I had just missed the moon set minutes earlier as I could see the very last rim of bright light disappearing behind a hill. The sun would rise on the opposite side, giving the sky a very peculiar light. I sat myself down on the fence and waited. Slowly more and more people gathered up there. Local people with their merchandise to sell, mixed with tourists looking for the perfect spot for the perfect picture. It’s a bit of a frenzy with everyone setting up when suddenly everybody just fell silent almost at the same time.

In the sky filled with layers of the coulours orange, yellow and bluegrey, slowly the contour of the sun had appeared. Only the upper half and oh so vague. But it was enough for everyone to hold his breath for a few seconds. And in these few seconds I felt the anticipation build up in myself paired with a deep sense of wonder. Almost as if I was not sure whether the sun would truly come up or just say “nah, I’m taking the day off”. Nature seemed to be holding its breath as well and for a fraction of a second it felt like time had come to a stand still. And then the sun’s colour intensified into a deep orange colour and slowly she started her rise. Suddenly, almost at the same time again, everybody returned to their task at hand. The frenzy restarted. The spell was broken.

I immediately felt a bit sad for I would have liked to hold on to that moment a bit longer. That moment of anticipation, filled with wonder. That’s where the magic lies!

Too many of us wake up with an alarm clock, transforming us in robot like beings that get up and diligently start working through the program of the day. We expect things to go in a certain way, and if they don’t, we either accept it shrugging it off with a “it’s like that” or we get upset, maybe even angry. But seldom do we stop in our tracks and wonder.

If you recognise yourself in that last bit, may I suggest you try and catch a sunrise? It is not hard; there’s one every day.

 

By the way, tomorrow I’m off to the Land of the Rising Sun, in case you are wondering.

Yesterday I left Yangon to fly to Bagan (former Pagan), an ancient city in central Myanmar. Although the place is known for its thousands of temples and pagodas, the first thing I noticed was the sweet fragrance of flowers. I smelled it the moment I stepped down the little aircraft. The smell was so strong that I automatically started scanning the nearby bushes for Airwick perfume dispensers. But it was not men-made, nature really was in a festive mood!

Today felt like a visit back in time. Old Bagan is known for its Archaelogical Area, where you can visit an impressive amount of Buddhist monuments. The area is prone to earthquakes (now they tell me?!?) and quite a number of monuments have been destroyed over time. Luckily, about 2,200 have survived the test of time of the over 10,000 built at the height of the Pagan Kingdom (between 11th and 13th century).

What stunned me the most, is the dedication and perseverance of the people who built these works of art all these centuries ago. Kings that were dedicated to spreading Buddhism used mural paintings inside the temples to pass on knowledge in a time where illiteracy rate was very high. The pagodas were as usual impressive, some took several generations to build! (It made me think of Ken Follet’s “Pillars of the Earth”).

But the same dedication can still be found in New Bagan, in the different workshops where all kinds of crafts are showcased.  These lovely bamboo lacquer bowls you see in the shops take months and months of work. With techniques passed on from generation to generation.

I cannot help but think with regret of our fast-paced society, where patience has become such a rarity. And where monetary gain is put before the satisfaction of delivering quality and lasting work.

Damn, I sound old.

Today the feeling of being Lost in Translation primed. I felt just like Bill Murray and I am not even in Japan yet!

This morning I asked the hotel  receptionist to arrange a taxi to bring me to a change office and then on to the Shwedagon Pagoda. Got in the taxi and within 10 minutes the driver pulled up in front of the Pagoda …… with me still not having one kyat (local currency). I started to explain that I needed to change money first, only to stop mid-sentence at the view of his blank expression. “No spea Inglish”. A phrase I would hear many times today.

After several unfruitful attempts I managed to find someone who did speak a bit of English. A friendly lady who sells tickets to access the Pagoda. She seemed to tell me I could change money ‘upstairs’ waving her hand to the right. Upstairs turned out to be a 104 steps long staircase up to the pagoda. By the time I got up there, found the change office and trotted all 104 steps back down, the taxi driver had already given up on me and left. Arrggll. I waited a few minutes to catch my breath and prepare for the climb back up when the same lady walked over to me, shaking her head mumbling “no, no, no”, and turned me slightly more to the right. Aaaaah, an elevator.

The visit made me forget all about the linguistic barrier though. No language is needed when visiting such a holy place. All you can do is admire peacefully, respectfully and quietly. I was expecting huge crowds and long waiting lines but there was nothing of that. There were not even that many tourists which made me somewhat of an attraction too, all dressed up in an improvised long skirt that the ticket lady had lent me.

It took me up to noon to finish my tour around the grounds (6 Ha, barefoot, thank you very much) and the heat had become almost unbearable (close to 40 °C). Time to head out and go enjoy a nice lunch. I did end up having one, but it took an awful lot of mime. On the bright side, by the time I needed a pharmacy for a urinary infection, I had developed a true talent for creative hand gestures. Only a few minutes and I walked out happily with a box of antibiotics.

As if taking a taxi is not already unsettling enough, I noticed a curious thing today: most drivers sit on the right…… and drive on the right! It appears that back in 1970 the government decided that the country should no longer drive on the left but on the right. As a result, in today’s traffic you will find both left and right seated drivers – enough to drive you crazy.

 

p.s. the unpaid taxi driver did get his money at the end of the day

 

I reached my first destination! Yangon in Myanmar.

My knowledge of the country is quite limited and primarily based on the bits and pieces I would hear through the international press. While preparing my journey I had decided to not read up on the country and just leave it that way. Instead, I decided to let the country reveal itself to me and try to get to see it through the eyes of its people. Surely it will be less factual, but all the more interesting when you let emotions colour the lines of its (hi)story.

The first person I met was of course the driver (it is always the driver!) who picked me up at the airport to drop me off at my hotel. The driver’s name is Soe. I asked him whether that was his first name or family name and he replied with a big smile that although he has three names “we don’t do first names and family names – just call me Soe”.

Soe has been doing this job, driving tourists around through the entire country, for about 10 years now. He started telling about the impressive and fast (positive) change his country has gone through ever since “it opened up”. The dozens of cranes I can see from the car window confirms the many construction activities. We quickly get caught in a traffic jam, but contrary to what I thought, it is not a sign of the progress Soe was talking about. Apparently, the roads, and with it the traffic jams, used to be way worse.

My first impression is that the country seems to embrace order and efficiency. It started at the airport. It took me merely 20 minutes from stepping down the plane to stepping out the airport terminal. Without doubt the people’s discipline of immediately forming neat waiting lines contributed to that speed. Traffic lights not only show the colors green and red but along with it the number of seconds it will stay that colour.

Once arrived at the hotel it did again not take me long to step into my room. I was immediately swept off my feet by the view from the window: a huge golden pagoda shining at the horizon. In the brochure on the desk I read it is the Shwedagon Pagoda and by the looks of it worth a visit. Something I might try tomorrow then!

Not that this country seems short of things to visit or discover. A happy coincidence is that I arrived in Myanmar just as the country prepares itself for Thingyan, a New Year’s celebration. It is known by Westerners as the Water Festival because people will splash or pour water at one another as part of  a cleansing ritual to welcome the New Year. It starts Wednesday 13 April and lasts 5 days.

Luckily I brought an umbrella.

Excited, nervous, happy, knot-in-the-stomach, impatient, overjoyed, sad…. today my emotions jump from one extreme to another. Today is the big day. Tonight, I’ll board the first plane of many, many planes to follow that will fly me around the world. I will leave behind all that I know in exchange for the unknown.

“To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before” – well, that Star Trek line is clearly exaggerated but I sure feel like boarding my own private Enterprise! Although it makes me feel truly alive and full of energy, it also scares the sh*t out of me.

It is exactly the reason why I insisted on making this a solo adventure though: to face my fears and just get going anyway. To experience what I already know deep down: whatever happens, I will be able to deal with it, as long as I let go of expectations, but above all, let go of the need to be in control (as if you ever could, really!).

And so, I will leave behind my sweetheart, my house, my dogs, my job and simply take that first step. It comforts me though that my late dad will be watching over me. For years I have seen him go through the same emotions, every time he was getting ready to travel to the unknown, leaving behind his family. And then listen to his stories of what he had experienced and discovered in these far away countries once back home.

Today’s date is not chosen randomly. I chose it to honour my dad as it is his birthday today. Thank you, dad, for passing on to me the curiosity bug. I promise I will make good use of it!

A bit of a paradox, but this whole ‘solo adventure’ aspect to this epic trip, turned out to be a huge reminder that I am not an island. I am surrounded by people (close and afar) that have been counting down the days with me, are excited with me, and who will accompany me on my trip – albeit virtually.

Therefore, let me not end with a good bye. Just a ‘catch you later’ will do.

 

p.s.: to the aspirant burglars out there reading this, there will be house/dog-sitters so don’t bother.

When you have, like me, won the birthplace lottery you cannot ignore the fact that your luck was pure chance. You did absolutely nothing to be that lucky.

Another fact you cannot ignore, is that there are millions of people out there who did not win that lottery. Luck was not around when their birthplace got decided. And they too did absolutely nothing to deserve that.

Ever since I came to truly realise that sobering fact, I knew I would not be able to live happily without at least trying to correct some of that imbalance. So, I started doing voluntary work, give my time, make donations, etc.

From time to time people praise me with my ‘selfless’ good deeds. Truth is, they are not that selfless. According to evil-genius Joey from Friends there even is no such thing as selfless good deeds.

I could write here that sharing some of your luck is a wonderful way of showing your gratitude towards the universe. Sounds great, doesn’t it? You can almost hear the violins playing in the background. But if I’d really want to convince you, I’d simply point out that doing good does you good. Whilst improving another human being’s chances of having a decent life, you will also greatly improve your own happiness knowing that you made a difference in that someone’s life.

The cool thing is, as I wrote here, you do not have to be as rich as Bill or Melinda Gates to be able to do so. You are way richer than you think. Whatever it is you give, your time, your money, your knowledge, the bottom line is: share it! Just like mommy and daddy taught you when you got a new toy.

Speaking of toys, I remember as a kid my upcoming birthdays were always preceded by the thrilling anticipation of the gifts I would receive. Of course, I would make damn sure my family and friends received crystal clear hints of what would make me happy. I was thinking, why change now?

As you know, I will not be around this year for my 50^th birthday, being busy travelling around the world and such. However, this does not mean you cannot still give me the best birthday gift ever.

There are four organisations that do a fantastic job making this world a better place and I have been supporting them long enough to know they effectively make a difference. It would be wonderful if you would donate to one, if not all four, of these organisations. Click here to learn more about the organisations and register your gift.

Remember, there are a lot of unlucky people out there. You can make a difference by sharing some of your luck and in the process, get lucky yourself all over again!

 

Two months left to go before take-off to …. where again? Hm, let me check my i*tin”er*a*ry. I will tell you this: piecing together my itinerary proofed to be as difficult as pronouncing the word itself!

As fun as “around the world in 50 days” sounds, it is nothing short of a logistic nightmare. Try putting a flight schedule together that:

– fits the idea of 5 continents/10 countries (so basically 2 countries per continent);
– has preferably only one stop maximum from one destination to the next;
– keeps (where possible) the total travelling time between destinations under 24 hours;
– assures you’ll sit in reliable planes as opposed to flying coffins;
– does not completely empty out your savings account.

I must have changed my itinerary at least a dozen of times. The order of the continents? Do I go in eastern or western direction? Which countries? Which places/cities? So, so hard to choose! And then when you start connecting destinations you quickly understand that whilst the world seems ultra-connected, flight wise …. not so much. Did you know for example that flying across the African continent is like driving on a seemingly straight road only to be surprised by unexpected deviations? No kidding, to go from e.g. Congo to Morocco your quickest options is to actually leave the continent and travel via Paris….

It really is a time-consuming activity, not in the least because it is simply impossible to not give into daydreaming of what lies ahead. But, it is also a lot of fun working on that delightful puzzle and it is therefore with much joy that I present to you my chosen itinerary.

*drumroll*

Starting from home in Mauritius on 10th of April 2018, I will visit (in order):

Asia – Myanmar and Japan
Australia/Oceania – Fiji Islands and Australia
North America – USA and Canada
South America – Peru and Brazil
Africa – Zimbabwe and Morocco

to end back home in Mauritius on 31 May.

 

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Update 14 February 2018:

Well, it is done! Tickets booked and issued with the fantastic assistance of the peeps at Indie BootsnAll.

The final itinerary looks as follows:

From 1. Mauritius –> 2. Myanmar –> 3. Japan –> 4. Australia –> 5. New Zealand –> 6. USA –> 7. Canada –> 8. Peru –> 9. Brazil –> 10. Zimbabwe –> 11. Botswana –> back to Mauritius.

Excited!!!!!