+44 Chile

16.

Cathy and I had been tossing around the idea of where to go for Christmas / New Years for a few weeks. We had considered going down to the tropical southern part of Japan, Okinawa, or maybe driving around Hokkaido, soaking in the wintery goodness. We ended up deciding on something very much in the middle (both on the map and the thermometer), Tokyo! Seeing how we live in Japan, it’s almost necessary to visit Tokyo.

Looking into our travel options, we found a hidden jewel of the Japanese rail company: the Seishun Juhachi Kippu, or youth 18 ticket. (in Japanese, é’春18) The Seishun Juhachi Kippu allows for 5 days of unlimited rail travel in Japan with a slight (maybe major) catch - only local trains. Each day runs from 00? to 23?, and costs Â¥2,300 - or just under $20 CAN. As an added bonus, we can both share the same ticket by stamping twice per day.

We spent a few days simultaneously laptop’ing. Cathy was booking hotels in all the best spots in Tokyo (not an easy task as they were nearly all fully booked, and most Japanese online booking systems don’t offer an immediate response on whether or not you’ve managed to book the room.) Kevin was furiously plugging-in individual train schedules into an online trip calculator to find out how on earth we would snake our way down Japan using only local trains. (After all, Hokkaido is a separate island up north.) After a few days of grunting and complaining, we succeded on both fronts and decided on a change of pace for Christmas eve, put our computers away and went outside.

We stayed home for Christmas and had a nice relaxing morning eating breakfast, drinking coffee, listening to christmas carols and opening presents. We had video chats with both our families thanks to iChat / Skype and then we ventured outside to start preparing for our trip to Tokyo. We were to leave the following morning on the first train out of Takikawa, the 6? local train to Sapporo.

The next morning, we enjoyed a sobering -15°C walk to the train station at 5? in the morning, got our first 2 ticket stamps and boarded the 6? local train to Sapporo through Iwamizawa, all before the sun came up.Our (ridiculous) schedule looked like this:

—— Dec 26th
06?- Takikawa -> Sappro
08?- Sapporo -> Tomakomai
10?- Tomakomai -> Higashi-muroran
13?- Higashimuroran -> Oshamambe
16?- Oshamambe -> Goryokaku
19?- Goryokaku -> Kikonai
21?- Kikonai -> Kanita
—— Dec 27th
05?- Kanita -> Aomori
06?- Aomori -> Hirosaki
07?- Hirosaki -> Odate
08?- Odate -> Akita
12?- Akita -> Sakata
14?- Sakata -> Shibata
18?- Shibata -> Niigata
23?- Niigata -> Omiya
—— Dec 28th
05?- Omiya -> Ueno (Tokyo!)

47 hours, 16 trains and 2 very sore bums.

In reality we had a few hiccups (actually, one big one) on our connection from Goryokaku to Kikonai and blew our schedule. We made it to Kikonai that night and decided to find a hotel. (Our original plan was to hack it in the train station in Kanita, but our missed connection made us strung out and cold.) We somehow communicated to the station manager that we needed a hotel that night. He took it upon himself to call around and he found us a cheap hotel above a small soba shop and convinced the owner to drive to the station in his pyjamas and come pick us up!

The next day, we finally made it off of Hokkaido and with a bit of trickery managed to get ourselves back on schedule. The following night we slept on a train called the Moonlight Echigo that runs overnight from 11? to 04? that provided us a crappy, uncomfortable sleep.

We pulled in to tokyo on Friday morning on the 5? to Ueno station and found ourselves crammed inside a stuffy train in the middle of the busiest rush hour we’d ever seen.We looked at each other and said: “Hey- We’re in Tokyo… cool.”, found a McDonalds, curled up in the corner booth and napped.

to be continued…

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With the economy being what it is, students who are pondering that college is out of their league might want to look into getting an online degree.The convenience of getting an online degree is especially beneficial to those who need to work and go to college at the same time.This distance education site offers a lot of options.With the growing cost of general living, a lot of college students are moving to online tutlage.The emphasis of these online colleges is on real situation instruction so that graduates are geared up to go when they take on the responsibilities required in their new stations.There are oppertunities offered online that never would have transpired to me.Just seeing what’s available is incredible.Pumping up one’s curriculum vitae is a remarkable way to get into a job that not only pays well but is also exciting.

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When discerning about earning an online degree, it’s fun just to think about all of the avenues.For those who haven’t tried it, the class work can be just as complete and challenging as sitting in a conventional college classroom.Students can earn associate, bachelor’s and master’s degrees that will allow them to move ahead in their careers.It gives them more research time as well, since they are not spending time commuting to college.Saving time is yet another inducement since online programs are created so students can move through the programs rapidly in order to get their degrees and put them to work.I enjoy education just for the experience, but it’s also nice to pick up a degree or certification that can enhance your job opportunities along the way.A whole host of degrees in business, education, criminal justice, science, and it can be earned.It’s continually exhilarating to learn something new.

I’m sure all of you out there have at least heard of someone being ripped off by a cowboy tradesman. It’s happened to me twice before, when I was grossly overcharged for electrical services. One time I was charged £100, just to change a fuse when I know its a simple job. After all the electrics in my house went off at the beginning of July, I was extremely begrudging to get in any old electrician from the Yellow Pages. I was refereed to a relatively new company called BH Electrician Services. After  I called, they sent someone round the next day and within 10 minutes I had my electrics back on. It was another blown fuse again, but this time it was in the main fuse box. I was worried to hear what the price would be. Turned out it was £15 and I didn’t eve have to pay up front. I was told and invoice would be in the post. So if anyone out there has been ripped off by an electrician, check out these electricians.

Whatever you do, don’t bring knives to Singapore. Say you’re in Darjeeling and you buy your husband a Gorkha knife — a khukuri, the national knife of Nepal — because he’s always thought they’re cool, and the tool would prove useful for backyard jobs. So you give him the knife (he loves it) and he carries it through three countries in Asia over the span of six weeks, no problem.

Then let’s say, after nearly six months of travel, you’re about to fly home to the US, but you plan a little stop in Singapore along the way. Your husband decides to buy your neighbor a gift, a rudimentary machete he found for $3 at a Bangkok vegetable market. It’s the all-purpose Asian machete, good to bushwhack, hack, trim, slaughter or harvest most anything.Your neighbor works in construction. He’s a fix-it kind of guy, with a yard full of chickens, goats and trees. He’ll love this knife:

So your husband wraps the knives in newspaper and plastic and buries them inside his backpack, checked for the ride. He’s done this many times before. Both of you, in past excursions, have transported big knives across numerous international borders.

But then comes Singapore. You depart the plane, you gather your bags and a Customs officer asks if you have anything to declare.

Nope, not a thing.

Are you sure?

Yep.

OK, let’s scan the bags. Through the machine they go, and the guy perks his eyes. He grabs your husband’s backpack, asks if he can take a look and pries the knives from the inner pocket. Well, what do we have here?

Assault weapons. That’s what they are in the eyes of Singapore law. It’s illegal to import them. Why didn’t you declare them? Huh? Why not?

You didn’t declare them because you had no idea their presence in your bag constituted such a sin. But before you can get a grip on the scene, the officer is leading your husband away to an office, where he waits and waits and waits with all the bags, until another officer emerges to tell your husband the cops will be seeing him shortly. And then he waits some more. For a couple of hours, you and your husband both tell and re-tell your story to five different officers who want to know every little thing: where did you buy the knives? Why did you buy the knives? When did you buy the knives How much were the knives? Where did you travel in India? Rural areas, yeah? And what do you do for a living? And how many times have you been to Singapore? And when was your last trip here? And when are you going home? And what’s your home address? And your phone?

On and on it goes, until it ends. And in the end, you’re fine. The kind head honcho understands your ignorance of the law. He writes you an official letter permitting you to keep said items in your personal abode (in this case a hotel), where said items shall not, under any circumstances, be removed until your return to the airport with this letter in hand, which shall be presented to an airline employee immediately upon check-in. And NEVER again shall you enter Singapore with such contraband.

Whew. Your heart stops pounding. You were, after all, a little worried because your husband has a tendency to get agitated under less-than-satisfactory circumstances, and this under no circumstances was considered satisfactory. He had started to ask the officer questions — like how was he supposed to know knives were wrong? And how do people in Singapore cut their trees? No one owns a knife? What can a person bring into Singapore anyway? How about black shoes? Those black shoes on the officer’s feet - are they illegal too?

When the officer finally says you can go, you thank him profusely and quietly proceed through the exit doors. And as fast as you possibly can, you take a seat at one of Singapore’s best-loved rice roll and porridge shops and wolf down a few plates of chee cheong fun.

Some airports treat you better than others. In addition to scrupulous Customs officers, Singapore’s Changi offers free Internet, great bookstores, hot showers. Kuala Lumpur has fantastic food courts at nearly the street price. And Tokyo’s Narita, while not my favorite, sells these inexpensive little onigiri snacks — triangles of rice wrapped in nori, with a center filling of tuna, umeboshi or (in the snack above) pickled apricot. I’ve passed through Narita more times than I can count, and I always find my way to the onigiri stand. Far better than airline snacks (unless, of course, you’re flying Singapore… because all airlines are not alike, and Singapore rules in the food department).

Find your Narita nibbles at a little round snack shop in the middle of the concourse, third floor, Terminal 1, past Gate 38. Y 150 (US$1.50).

What a strange thing it is to land in one’s own country after so much absence. Travel — the movement itself — is critical to perspective. The mundane becomes extraordinary and curious and different in the fog that clouds a jet-lagged head.

It takes a few days or weeks or months (or eternity, even) after returning home to figure out my place in this place I call my homeland. I’m always a different person than the one who left months before. Experiences change us. Every journey gives us a new mind.

I take a walk. Black birds cackle in a bare tree. They scatter like black pepper tossed to the sky when I walk beneath. Kids play in the park. A mother pushes a stroller. The sky goes pink and hazy in a long dusk — that sort of not-quite-day, not-quite-night light that never comes around in the tropics. The sounds, the smells, the weather — it’s all familiar yet foreign because of time. Time away, which gives me new eyes. It all seems singularly, momentarily important. I’m still in this murk I hate and love, when the mind hasn’t caught up with the body that’s been transplanted halfway around the world. It seems the brain isn’t working very well, when really, it’s just working in a different dimension. Soon these moments will pass, and the everyday mundane will feel routine and ignorable again.

We’re staying at my mother- and father-in-law’s house. I lay awake at 5 listening to the house hum. The water softener? I don’t know. These houses here live and breathe like beings. Heaters, sprinklers, humidifiers (or de-humidifiers), alarms, washers, dryers and lights on timers — all these devices set to go on or off with little human intervention. The Asian houses I have visited of late have no mysteries, no puzzling mechanical noises. A light, a fan, a radio, perhaps a TV; dogs, cats, chickens, babies. “The simple life.” The wealthiest city dwellers own tiny Chinese washing machines (but never dryers). The farthest-flung villagers without electricity attach a lightbulb to a car battery, which powers the house. The poorest people use nothing but fire.

I love and hate, hate and love these transitions. I hate the over-abundance, the navel-gazing, the self-absorption of a country that doesn’t understand how it is perceived in the rest of the world (though I love clean clothes, clean sheets, PBS, NPR, wine and cheese, and hot showers that work without pipes coming loose and threatening to electrify a bathroom doused in water).

Coffee confuses me (where’s the kettle and the nice lady with a cloth bag?):

But I love lemons that droop from a fecund tree in the backyard, and grapefruit that do the same. I love the juice of those lemons with leftover rice, paprika, parsley, olive oil, sundried tomatoes, a shaving of stinky cheese. And I love a borrowed kitchen in which to make a simple lunch — mundane but meaningful — before I take a necessary nap.

I am traveling to Phuket, Thailand, this month and was wondering if you have any recommended restaurants/cafes. Thank you for your assistance, and happy eating! –Emma, Sydney

Emma, I admit it’s been a while since I’ve seen Phuket. I spent a month there while working on a Fodor’s update just before the tsunami hit in late 2004, then returned to cover the aftermath. Things have changed a lot since then. The answers to your question depend on where you plan to stay and how far you hope to venture in your island travels. Phuket is smothered in hotels and restaurants, spanning numerous beaches - your options run wide, and when you land, you are sure to read and hear about the most popular places (though not necessarily the best places). Here’s what I can tell you about some of the smaller, less publicized gems:

In Phuket town, Nai Yao is a great little on-the-sidewalk seafood restaurant that opens only at night on Phuket Road. Excellent crab and fish.

During the day, try Wilai at 14 Talang Road, in Phuket town. She offers fresh Thai “fast food” made each morning,and her place simply sparkles, it’s so clean. Wonderful cook, great conversationalist. Plus, the Old Phuket neighborhood boasts some of the island’s finest remaining architecture. Check out the China Inn & Restaurant, just a few doors away, for the ambience.

Kopi de Phuket on Phuket Road (again, in town) - best bet for kick-starting your day with sufficient caffeine.

RuamJai (on Ranong Road near the market in town) is a good spot to try classic Thai vegetarian dishes made to look like the real thing. Fried chicken, fish, curries, hotdogs - all purely veg.

On Nai Yang Beach, try the Bank Restaurant for good seafood and tables in the sand. Wife runs the restaurant, husband fishes for your dinner. It’s just south of Pearl Village, right on the water.

About five km from the Bang Thao Beach resorts, heading east, look for a a small sign on the left side of the road noting “Seafood.” If you pass the mosque, you’ve gone too far. It’s a little Muslim streetside shanty offering great local curries, noodles and (obviously) seafood dishes. Ask for anything you want, and the nice woman just might make it - along with an aromatic bowl of cardamom soup.

When you land in Phuket, pick up a dining guide for maps and up-to-date phone numbers. A few of the more famous restaurant names you are sure to encounter: Baan Rim Pa, Joe’s Downstairs and Da Maurizio, a trio of upscale cliffside/waterside restaurants on the north end of Patong; Mom Tri’s Boathouse (and cooking school) in Kata; Panwa House, an antique plantation house restaurant on a secluded beach - good ambience. In addition, Kan Eang is a longtime popular seafood restaurant with two branches in Cholong. Kan Eang I recently went through a complete overhaul; I’ve heard mediocre reviews of the food since (although it ranked highly years ago). Kan Eang II still gets high marks from Thais and foreigners.

Enjoy the trip! And let me know if you discover anything new worth noting.

Well, this is one way to get at the marrow of the matter: diners in Singapore’s China Town use straws to suck out the goodness of their bones. Bone marrow is everyday fare in many parts of Asia. In some anthropological circles, scientists have debated whether early humans were scavengers who extracted the marrow from dead animals, and whether bone marrow played an important role in human development. Regardless, it’s not unusual these days to find Asians smacking their lips on a good soup bone.

Straws and gloves provided by a bright, bustling cafe at 197 Eu Tong Sen Street. The large red sign out front bears all Chinese characters except for the tiny company name printed in English: Yong Qiang Pte Ltd.

If you’re not into bones, I highly recommend the sliced lotus salad in ginger and vinegar. I love the light, crunchy consistency of lotus. It’s such a clean bite, like slicing your teeth through a water chestnut. But sweeter and better.

You won’t find Bangkok’s best Japanese fare at a restaurant. You’ll find it at the dining table of our dear friends Masaru and Youme. I realize this is a bit unfair - luring you with foods in a private home, to which you have no access (unless, of course, you already know Masuru and Youme, in which case I’m sure they will invite you over). But more than food, this is a post on friendship. And to that, I think we all relate. We all understand the joy in visiting great friends after a long, unintended time apart.

For all the years we lived in Thailand, you would think we would see Masaru and Youme more often. But you know life; you know how the little stuff gets in the way. We work, we travel, we deal with the niggling things, and suddenly months have passed, even years. Somehow coordinating a night or two together becomes a staggering ordeal.

This time it worked. We managed two dinners with this dynamic duo (I’ve led you before to their stunning work as an acclaimed photographer and designer/director team), eating once outside in a restaurant and once inside their home. It was the inside dinner that sticks in my mind because every ounce of that meal was about the four of us and the bonds we keep, though life takes us far apart. Food has that ability. A meal, made at home, shared with people we love, becomes far more than the sum of its ingredients. It is unity in a most profound form.

So we talked that night about their recent stay in Japan and their project on the Hisabetsu Buraku, a marginalized population on the edge of Japanese society (see their project blog).

We lingered over a pot of tonyu nabe, a simple creamy but clean soy-milk hotpot with fresh vegetables and minced chicken balls.

We savored our plates of konnyaku, flecked with seaweed and dipped in mustard miso or a special soy sauce made from the deep-sea water of Muroto. I can’t help but describe konnyaku as a healthy cake of jiggly, slimy goodness (as unappetizing as that sounds, this is tasty!).

And then Masaru brought out a plate of horse-meat jerky, a bit of “Japanese soul food,” traditionally eaten among the Buraku population.

The meat remains inexpensive at local Buraku shops, but it is gaining popularity in other parts of Japan, where the price is rising. The evening drew to an end with glasses of “soul drink” shoju.

Food, drink and frienship - a triad of necessity for any healthy soul.