50 Hours Seoul-less, OR The Devil Drives a Prado, 15-17 July 2012

I apologize for the underlying anger in this and the end of the last post. I was not happy to have my vacation disturbed and my schedule so hectically reconfigured. But, this is a possibility with my job, and I must get used to it and always be ready for it. Hopefully I won’t have such short notice in the future, but one never knows…

I got to Incheon Airport with not as much time to spare as I thought I would have. I had shopped around, trying to buy a few things I would need if I was screwed over in Krasnoyarsk, and by the time I was in the check-in line, I was one of the last people. Once again, I was cutting things close, but the friendly Koreans made sure I wouldn’t be late. I did get screwed over by the Aeroflot website, whose seat assignment diagram for my flight had the wrong type of aircraft. I picked 12F, which, on this diagram of a narrow-body, was a roomy exit-row. But then, when I boarded the flight, it was an Airbus wide-body, and 12F put me in the middle of the middle sections of seats. And this for a 9-hour flight, when I had my chance to pick! Oy vey!

The plane took awhile to board, and for a long time, right up until they almost closed the doors, it looked like I would have an empty seat next me. But no, it was just a straggler. There were no empty seats on this flight. It seemed that there were a lot of French people on this flight, and sure enough, a lot of them were connecting on the same Air France flight to Paris in Moscow. I stayed in my seat and managed to watch five movies during the flight, unable to sleep. I figured I’d sleep on the red-eye to Krasnoyarsk and then I would have plenty of time on the 20 hour train. I had booked a sleeper cabin.

After we landed in Moscow, I headed to passport control, and for the first time, I had to wait in a line at the non-Russian passport lanes. And they were all moving ridiculously slowly. Apparently this is what happens when you fly here from Asia. Flying from the other direction only gets a flight full of Russians. Each person was taking up to 5 minutes to go through. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case for me, with my multiple entry visa and my work permit proving I’ve been around here a bit. Sure enough, when I finally got to the counter, I went through in under a minute. I wish there was a separate line there for multiple-entry labor visa holders. But that’s probably too much to ask. There was a separate line for Business Class passengers, prompting me to wish I had asked for an upgrade to business class and tried to redeem Delta miles for it.

I retrieved my bag and went to check in for the next flight. I asked the lady at the counter if there were any openings in Business Class (I really want that upgrade), and she promptly told me no, like she knew for this particular flight that there weren’t any without even having to check. How rude! It turns out half of Business Class would be empty on this flight. Where’s my Gold Medallion status when I need it???!!

Just because my bad luck had still not run out, the flight was delayed for an hour. This would guarantee that I wouldn’t have time to get my stuff in Krasnoyarsk. I was livid. I tried to sleep on the flight, but it was difficult. I arrived back in Krasnoyarsk and made a beeline to a taxi driver. To the train station we went. I arrived there with plenty of time to at least get my boarding pass for the train and get all settled properly, and I knew that, had my flight actually been on time, I would have had time to get all my stuff…

When I opened my door to my cabin, there was a family with a little girl sleeping in there. Oh shit, I didn’t want to disturb them. I tried to be quiet and hopped up onto the top bunk that I had booked for myself. That’s when I finally got to sleep. And sleep I did.

The family with the little girl left soon after and was replaced by a father and son. Hours later, they left, and a man named Victor, who worked for the railway company, took their place. By this time it was the late evening. Victor really wanted to talk to someone, so he invited me to share some beers with him, I begrudgingly accepted, despite my still-bad mood. We worked through our language barrier and were able to learn a lot about each other. Then, I insisted to him that I should sleep, and he decided he should sleep too. I heard him talking on his phone later to his sister and he mentioned excitedly how he had met Kyle from America. At least I know when I’m in a bad mood I can still make a positive impression.

When we finally got to Ust-Kut, I was supposed to meet up with another employee at the station, and we would go to the field together. From the station, we went to the Ust-Kut Hotel, where he said we would stay for a few hours. I thought this meant we would get a room for a few hours and get some real rest, but no, we just waited outside the hotel for our ride. Despite it being mid-July and not being all that far north compared to what I’m used to, it was a bit nippy this morning. I had not packed any warm clothes for my trip to Asia, and thus had nothing warm with me. I figured I’d last until the end of August without the need of warm clothing… except for this morning. Eventually a lady arrived in a Toyota Prado and took us to the company’s base, which is in the city, a difference from Vankor, where the base is in the middle of the oilfield. A lot less convenient. At the base, they gave me new PPE, because my normal PPE from Vankor could not get to Krasnoyarsk in time for me to retrieve it. It was nice to have fresh new stuff, but I’m not sure what I’ll do at the end of this shift, when I can get my old PPE back in Krasnoyarsk.

We got back in the Prado to drive to the village of Markovye, from which we would take a helicopter to the field. It turned out to be a 3 hour drive from Ust-Kut on a wild and bumpy dirt road to get to Markovye. Why they wouldn’t just have the helicopters from Ust-Kut to the field and circumvent the driving process was bewildering to me. I’ve never had such an intense drive in my life. The lady didn’t slow down whenever hitting crazy potholes or dips in the road. My body hadn’t felt good for the past couple days and now she was jarring it around like crazy. The area was actually quite scenic, though. We were in the middle of a dense forest with low mountains on either side. Not unlike many drives I’ve taken in Idaho, except for a much wilder road (and Idaho has bigger mountains).  This drive proved the Devil does indeed drive a Prado. We reached Markovye, and it turned out we once again would have to wait multiple hours for other rig crew members to arrive at the “heliport” for us to go. It’s always a diverse and rag-tag-looking bunch that shows up to go to the rigs, and this one, because it was for such a remote location, was even more so.

After an hour on the helicopter, we reached Dulisma Field, and then we had to hop in the standard big-wheeled Kamaz bus to the individual rigs. Of course, once I got on the bus, there were no seats left, so I had to stand in the back, and this was not the kind of ride you want to stand on. I was thrown way off balance several times and luckily the walls and luggage where there to break my fall…

I reached my rig, and I got off alone, the other employee having gone to a different rig. I said smell ya later. Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there…. I wait, this isn’t Bel-Air. 50 hours of travel later, I am in Dulisma. Oy!

Again, sorry I’m so angry. 2 weeks after the fact, I’m doing much better. And now that I’ve finally finished my vacation documentation, the blog will probably be on hiatus for the next month. But if you feel so inclined, please do check back every now and then. You might be surprised…. 

Fillet of Seoul, 12-15 July, 2012

Ever wondered why North Korea is so hostile? Because it doesn’t have a Seoul.

When I landed at Incheon Airport on a Thursday afternoon for the third time in a week, I would actually be stepping out of the airport onto official Korean soil (and you know how official I like my soil!) Unfortunately for me, that soil was being pummeled by torrential rain. Luckily, the route from the terminal to the train was covered. It would be awhile before I reached the actual subway system. Incheon is a ways away from Seoul proper, out on the water. Whereas Tokyo had the most populous metro area in the world, Seoul has the most populous city proper. And the wildness of the subway system is a testament to that fact. Buying single journey tickets was annoying, because you have to choose which station you’re planning on going to and if you get off at a different station you get beeped at and denied at the turnstiles. At least that was my experience a couple times. And then there wasn’t a machine where I could pay the fare difference like other Asian subway systems all seemed to have. I think I just got unlucky with the layout of some particular stations, but anyway, I managed to escape by going through the handicapped gate after someone else did, and nobody stopped me. Winning.

I got off at Sinchon station. I had a map in my itinerary of my hotel’s location with respect to the station, but of course it didn’t match the map in the station, which wasn’t oriented north upwards. And, as I learned after exiting the station, the map provided to me by the hotel was inaccurate, missing some key streets and placing some points of interest on the wrong block. I eventually found it after asking for directions from someone in the area. It was nestled among several hotels and guesthouses. Welcome to Sinchon Alpha Guesthouse! You can’t find us, but we’re here!

Luckily the rain had mostly subsided at this point and I didn’t get absolutely drenched while lost. I checked in and got shown the “hidden key” to the guest house, which was in the most obvious hiding place. But then the bedrooms had separate locks, so I felt better. There was a separate kitchen, fully stocked for cooking if I wanted, and a couple separate bathrooms and showers. I quickly got online and started to upload pictures from my trip so far, because Seoul also has the fastest internet in the world, and I was definitely going to take advantage of it (although I really couldn’t tell the difference between it and Tokyo’s; of course it’s very dependent on the hotel’s connection and router quality, as well). I’m not sure if I really ended up doing anything that night, besides planning my sightseeing for the next couple days. I had 4 nights in the city; I figured I had plenty of time to be lazy some more. Plus, the bed was big and comfortable. I also got an email from work that said they were sending me to a different rig site this next shift, instead of Vankor and that I would probably go on the 19^th or 20^th. I was originally planning on returning to Vankor on the 18^th, so this gave me more time to chill out in Krasnoyarsk when I got back to Russia. Awesome!

My first stop the next morning (ok, almost afternoon), was a McDonalds. They had a burger that I had never seen before (some bacon-tomato thing) and I got excited and decided to try that. I’ve found that the greatest difference between different worldwide McDonalds food is actually in their fries. I’m assuming different places have different fry suppliers, but there also might be something going on in the preparation process too. I know American McDonalds fries are good, because they’re supplied by Idaho Potatoes. But where do these Korean fries come from? They just weren’t as good. Luckily, they were blasting a Korean pop song and it was really catchy. Collin in Japan was really fond of K-pop. I realized why. I liked it too.

Because the Korean War has come to be dubbed “The forgotten war” by many (though how could you, with a show like MASH?) I thought it only proper that I should visit the memorial and museum here, and make sure I was up-to-speed on the war-time history of this little country. The memorial was powerful and the museum also was very informative, although it seemed to be very repetitive about the timeline of the war. They also documented all the events of provocation by the North over the years since the stalemate that halted the war, emphasizing that they were indeed “illegal.”

Anway, pictures are better, and I’m getting lazier about writing.

Monument in Remembrance of the Korean War

Soldiers surrounding the memorial

Korean War Museum

Another cool monument inside the museum

Statue of Two Brothers: a soldier from the North embracing his brother from the south, and the crack symbolizing the great divide between the countries. Reminds me a bit of the American Civil War, where family members faced each other and classmates from Westpoint fought on opposing sides.

Beneath the Statue of Two Brothers

 Next I wanted to walk along the Cheonggyecheon Stream, because it was on a site of “10 Things to Do in Seoul.” I obviously picked the wrong section to walk along, because it was all overgrown and looked nothing like the picture I saw online, except for the fact that it was below street level.

Cheonggyecheon Stream

Then I wanted to see some more traditional Korean architecture and I tried to go to Gyeongbok Palace and Cheongwadae, but they were closed. Why close up on a Friday afternoon? Grrrr. But, here are some pictures of the outsides…

And I also walked by the Hyundai and Kia buildings. Yay, industry!

Hyundai, Hyundai, Hyundai!

Kia building

It looked like rain, and I was disappointed with being disappointed, so I went back to the hotel, stopped and bought some instant soup and a beer, and had myself a little feast while trying to figure out where to go out on a Friday night. I decided I’d go to Itaewon, because that’s the expat friendly neighborhood, and I had no Korean friends here that I knew of who could go with me somewhere crazier. It was recommended that I should go to Ho Bar, which is a chain throughout the city. I decided I would pre-game at the one in my neighborhood. Then I would take the subway to Itaewon, where I would try out this one club whose name I don’t even remember (it was supposedly popular, but obviously didn’t make it into my memory) and if that was bad I would go to a place called Helios, which was supposed to be more of a west-style place. If all that was bad I would just wander around and find interesting things. It was also recommended that I find a certain Moroccan sandwich truck for the best drunken sandwich of my life. I planned on staying out until the subway reopened after 5 AM.

I went to Ho-Bar and it wasn’t anything special. There was almost nobody there, but I decided to stay and order a beer and a shot of tequila. There was a guy sitting presumably by himself a couple tables away that had ordered a bucket of beers and was steadily downing each one. I checked the time on my phone, and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t changed the clock on my computer and had gauged my leaving the hotel by that time, and I thought it was an hour earlier than it actually was. I was going to miss the last subway train if I didn’t leave now. I got to the station and I’m pretty sure I made the final trains at each line I transferred to. I reached Itaewon and figured that since it was well past midnight, I should go ahead and check out clubs. I went to the first one I mentioned above, and there were only about two people in it. This was nothing like any of the descriptions online. I turned around and went to Helios, which I had passed on the way here. Sure enough, it felt like just another standard American club. Nothing special. I ordered a long island and then stood off to the side to survey the scene. I saw another white guy (although they were more common here), and I unfortunately picked him to be the guy I’d make friends with. He soon struck me as the type of guy that girls would at first glance label a “creeper.” Not my top choice of potential wing man. First thing he said to me was something like, “You looking to get some good pussy tonight?” He actually reminded me a lot of the guys on the streets in Roppongi in Tokyo, except I knew he didn't have a bar full of with which to provide me. Anyway, he wouldn’t stop going on in the crassest way possible about getting some action from girls here. He was really wasted, and I even told him that he seemed pretty drunk and should calm down, but that made him angry and he did the, “Noooo, you’re drunker than me!” thing, when in reality, I wasn’t drunk yet. Anyway, he was annoying and wouldn’t shut up. He also kept trying to put his arm around me, like we were good buds. And then he walked over and attempted to hit on a girl who immediately blew him off. “They’re all bitches here!” he said. I ended up finishing my long island faster than originally planned and really didn’t want to deal with this guy. I ordered an AMF (adios mother fucker), which I hadn’t had in a long time, and it was the strongest drink I’ve ever gotten from a club. I steadily drank it, while the creeper (his name was Joe and he’s lived in Korea for 7 years) kept bothering me. I eventually ignored him, finished my AMF, and started dancing. I never saw him after that. Once I had danced for awhile, all the alcohol had hit me and I realized that I was actually really drunk. In fact, I had not felt this drunk since my first week living in Russia. It was too early for this to be happening, so I found a food truck with Egyptian food and ordered sandwich after sandwich until I was full. I sat for a bit at some chairs by the truck, but then I didn’t want to be that guy who passed out at the food truck, so I kept moving. I then came across a motel that I could sleep in for only 20 bucks. It was one of those “love hotels” that is conveniently located where the nightlife is for the sole purpose of having a nearby place to get it on. This was actually a godsend. I was not confident I would make  it to 5 AM. I paid for the room, which was actually pretty nice for only 20 dollars. More spacious than my rooms in Tokyo or Hong Kong, at least. I promptly passed out.

I awoke in the love hotel at about 10AM with the worst hangover ever. Damn you, AMF!!!!  I was in pain. Some sniffles that I had the previous day had also turned into a full-blown cold today. Sick and hung over. Great. I returned the room key and wandered back to the subway and made the painful journey back to my original hotel. I went to bed as soon as I got there.

I awoke several hours later, feeling less hung over but definitely sick. I didn’t think I would do any sight-seeing today. I checked my email and was informed I had to be in Ust-Kut on the morning of the 20^th. Which meant that I needed to be in Krasnoyarsk on the 19^th, because it was a 20-hour train ride between the cities. In the midst of trying to get my train tickets ordered, though, I was informed that they had just pushed up the mobilization to the 17^th. This meant I had to be in Krasnoyarsk on the morning of the 16^th. I was lying ill in a hotel room in Seoul, on the afternoon of the 14^th, and they were only telling me now that they needed me to be somewhere 36 hours from that point?? I tried to tell them this might not be possible, but the manager said to make it work, that they needed me. Why me? I do not know. They were sending me to a field where they are even less tolerant of English-speakers than Vankor…

Unfortunately, the pickings are rather slim for getting to Krasnoyarsk from Seoul within 36 hours (no, really????), and I had two options. One was to leave the hotel that instant, and fly a combination of China Southern and some other things from Seoul to Harbin to Vladivostok to Khabarovsk to Krasnoyarsk, and I would make it there by the evening of the 15^th. I would have done this, but the China Southern site wouldn’t let me book on their site unless I was a member, and when I tried to become a member, they asked for my cell phone number for verification, and then they said it was invalid (US phone number, maybe?) so that idea was shot. The only other options were getting to Moscow and to Krasnoyarsk from there, and flights from Moscow to Krasnoyarsk on Aeroflot (I wasn’t about to book anything else because they’d go from different airports than Sheremetyevo) are not very often. This would get me to Krasnoyarsk at 6:10am, and my train would depart at 8:20am. I would only have a 2 hour window in Krasnoyarsk to get my stuff, which was in company housing and required a key that I would have to get from the office, and then repack my clothes for the rig, then get the key back to the office. There was also the half hour drive from the airport to town. Oh geez. Not to mention I didn’t have any other employee friends in Krasnoyarsk at the moment who could do any of the above errands for me to make life a little easier. I decided that, in the event I wouldn’t have time to get my stuff, I needed to do my laundry now to have clean clothes for this remote rig. I had passed a 24 hour laundromat not far from here when I was lost, and I went looking for it. So here I was, on a Saturday night in Seoul, getting to do laundry, and suffering from a cold, which would not make the journey ahead of me any easier. The only upside was that I would get more Delta miles for the Aeroflot leg through Moscow, and I’d get to say they I actually have flown across Russia, all 9 hours’ worth.

I finished my laundry, bought some spicy instant soup to help my sinuses, ate, and went to bed.

Why live life on the edge when you can jump off it? 11 July, 2012

I wasn’t clever enough to come up with the title by myself. Credit goes to AJ Hackett.

I awoke at 6 to get to the Hong Kong ferry terminal for an early ferry to Macau. I had failed in ticket-buying to realize that it would have been more convenient for me to buy a ticket from the Kowloon terminal, but I’m not the best at doing convenient things for myself. So, I took the subway across the harbor to the Hong Kong Terminal. Even though Hong Kong and Macau are both owned by China now, they are both special districts in the eyes of international travel. Thus, I went through passport control at the ferry terminal. I failed to foresee how bad the lines would be there, and I had not thought to get there early enough for such a tortuous wait. Why so many people wanted to get to Macau so early in the morning, I wasn’t sure, but I anxiously kept checking the time as I cut it closer and closer to my ferry leaving. I ended up making it with about two minutes to spare. I had bought tickets for Super Class, because I heard economy class on the boats here is not too pleasant. The boat rocked wildly at the dock, and a wobbled back and forth as I made it over to my seat. There were only three of us in Super Class, and as it turns out we got complimentary meals. I had a noodle stir fry thing, but there was a very nice choice of possible meals on a menu in the seat-pocket that, if you order at least 24 hours before your departure, you can get one of the items. They all sounded much more gourmet than what I was eating. But I was okay with what I got. Still breakfast!

Leaving Hong Kong on the ferry

It took an hour to reach Macau, and the place seemed deserted. Of course, it’s the Las Vegas of Asia, so no one in their right mind would be awake at this time anyway, or at least they wouldn’t be outside. Also, like Vegas, when you take away the night-time glamour and wild party folks, it just feels all fake and dirty. But you do have to give credit to the designers of some of these hotels and casinos. Some of these buildings are just breathtaking.

Casino Lisbon

My goal for the day was the Macau Tower. I decided to walk to it, knowing the general direction of the Tower from the ferry terminal and hoping I can get there quickly without a map.

Macau Tower

For a time I seemed to be walking in the same general direction as another white guy. Like, everywhere I decided to turn, he’d chosen to turn there too. I wondered if he also had the same destination in mind. But I decided I don’t like walking behind him because I’m self-conscious of looking like a stalker or a would-be mugger. So, I sped up past the guy and never saw him again.

Now what’s so special about this tower, you ask? Well, it just so happens to have the world’s highest commercial bungee jumping platform. And, well, I’ve been waiting a long time for the chance to bungee jump. Might as well do the highest one for my first time, right?

I have decided now that on every trip I take I will try to do something I’ve never done before. It’s happened on my last couple. In Iceland, I did my first dry-suit scuba dive and happened to do so right in between two tectonic plates. On my last trip to the US, I shot my first gun (at a shooting range, of course), when I was in the Bay Area. Now here I would be bungee jumping. Next I should probably try skydiving, because that’s been a long time coming and it’s something I should have done by now! This here would also be my first major adrenaline rush in exactly a year, which is how long ago I climbed and skied the Sickle Couloir of Horstman Peak in the Sawtooth Range of Idaho. Obviously, I was due for a rush.

I eventually made it up into the tower. There’s an entrance fee just to go up in the tower, not counting what I was about to throw down for the jump. I was an hour early for my jumping appointment. Online, they had recommended I reserve a slot, but this also happened to be a Wednesday, and my early bird-ness guaranteed me the first jump of the day. Sweet.

I purchased the full package that included pictures and a video of my jump and was informed that if I jump again, each of the next two jumps are 75% off and the fourth one is free. I started to consider that, but I also had a ferry back to Hong Kong to catch in a few hours. I guess it would all depend on how I felt after the first jump and how busy it would get.

They gave me a t-shirt that was required for jumping, as it was also our ticket back up the tower to collect our stuff. I was happy to be provided a locker at the top. I also made sure to go to the bathroom. There's an internet meme I have seen a few times, with a picture of a bungee jumper having defecated all over himself. I wasn't about to be that guy. 

View from Macau Tower

There were three activities possible up there besides the bungee jump. You could do the Sky Jump, which was a controlled harness drop that lets you down via a pulley system and has no actual free-fall component. There was a harnessed walk along the outside edge of the deck, where you could lean out over the nothingness if you so dared. There was also an opportunity to climb the mast above us, to the top of the antenna. I actually would have really loved to do the mast climb, because that’s such an unusual tourist activity, and I've always wanted to climb some sort of antenna (and preferably jump off it). But, well, I was already splurging significantly for the bungee jump.

They were all very friendly and enthusiastic with me because I was the first jumper of the day. There wasn’t even anyone else in line after me. There was a head guy whom I’d guess was either an Aussie or a New Zealander, as well as some Macauans working the platform. When they took me out to the platform and started strapping me up, I asked if I could do some sort of trick, like a flip, when I jumped. The cool Macauan guy said it was policy that your first jump be just a lean forward. Then the second jump you lean backward. On the third jump, you can try a trick. Obviously, I was going to have to take those discounts and do more jumps.

All giddy and ready!

They strapped my ankles together and fastened the main cord to them along with a safety line to my body harness. They then had me hobble over like a penguin to the edge of the platform. They shoved the safety lines and chords over the edge, and they give me a bit of a weighted tug, making it more difficult to stand up straight as I took in the gorgeous view and mentally prepared myself to fall head first toward the ground. They had me wave to the various cameras stationed both on the platform and on a building below, and then counted down from five. I spread my arms, leaned forward, and dropped off the 760+ foot platform. The feeling of falling was so….relaxing. Perhaps this was what flying felt like, but today I would just be falling with style. There was no major jolt in the stretch at the bottom, as I expected. The whole ride was so very smooth. Part of the reason for that is because this jump has a couple guide wires on the side that force you to only bounce vertically, avoiding a random bounce that could possibly cause you to collide with the tower itself. I kind of freaked myself  out at the top of the first bounce, where I was supposed to pull a cord that would free my ankles and allow me to hang upright from the safety line on the front of my harness, but I had trouble grabbing it down by my ankles. I obviously had to do this again, to make for an even smoother experience, now that I knew what to expect.

They unstrapped me down on the ground, and I dashed back to the elevator up the tower. I would ride this elevator up five times, but down only once. There were now a bunch of Japanese tourists going up in the tower. They were led by a tour guide, who asked me if I just jumped. Then she told the group of people in Japanese, and they all responded with ooh’s and aah’s and one even shook my hand. When we reached the top, there were even more Japanese people, many of them young adults, and I was worried that there would be a big line to jump again and I wouldn’t have enough time to get my four jumps in the morning. I paid for the highly discounted second jump, dashed back to the harnessing area, and although there were two Japanese guys ahead of me, the Aussie/New Zealander picked me to jump before them. So, I was the first and second jumper of the day. This time I was going backwards. I got the same type of ankle straps and did the same waddle to the platform edge, this time backwards. They offered two ways to go: Either just fall back on my own, or let them hold me at 45 degrees before letting me go. They said the second way was more fun, so I decided to go that route. The Aussie/New Zealander slowly lowered me backward, which was unnerving, because I had the cables pulling at my feet again, but he claimed he had me, so I finally relaxed and let him be my only support. Just for fun, he did a little jolting maneuver to get me all fired up, and I called his bluff and said to do whatever he wanted. Bring it on! And they counted down, and I flew.

Bring it on!

I love you THIS much!

Touchdown!

Now that I was basically a jumping veteran, I had the timing right on pulling the chord at my ankles. I could really just experience the feeling of falling backward. Just wonderful. Like in Aladdin after he drops Jasmine back at her balcony post-magic carpet ride. He shouts, “Yes!” and falls backward on the carpet that drifts down with him to the ground. (Of course, at this point he is ambushed by palace guards on Jafar’s orders.)

Here’s a link to a portion of the video http://www.facebook.com/v/729308258764

I again dashed back to the elevator after they unharnessed me. I reached the top and there were even more Japanese tourists. I think the Japanese are to Macau what senior citizens are to Vegas. There was even a camera crew that was filming for some sort of Japanese TV show, but they guy they were filming was just doing the harnessed walk around the edge. I couldn’t tell, but I think it was a blind guy, so they were showing him conquering the heights with truly not knowing where the ground might be beneath him.Or maybe not. Just speculation.

Luckily, very few of these many Japanese people up here were here to jump. Most just wanted to watch other people, and they derived as much pleasure from that activity. I was glad to have some fans at least. They were impressed by my willingness to do multiple jumps. I just really wanted to do a flip off a several hundred foot platform. I got in the waiting area for the next jump and was placed in line behind an Aussie brother and sister. The brother was a daredevil and was talking of getting his skydiving license, because he already had a pilot’s license and wanted to be able to fly up in his dad’s plane (with his dad) and jump whenever he so pleased. They obviously have a bit more money than I do. For now, I will bungee.

Once again, the Aussie/New Zealander picked me ahead of the other two, although they had definitely gotten in line before me. They would now set me up for a “harness jump,” where my ankles would not be bound together and I would be free to run off the edge. The Macauan guy told me to go ahead and try my tricks; just be sure to get some height off the platform when I do so. The Aussie/New Zealander said to just run off and keep running. Obviously I listened to the Macauan guy. They counted me down and I burst off the platform, going for the front flip. It was hard to make it look good because I was instructed to hold on for dear life to the strap on my harness (it was supremely important for the bounce at the bottom). But I managed to get the full turnover before plummeting now feet first.

Looks like I ended up getting filmed by a Japanese guy.

Get set....

Running....

Calves of steel!!

And here’s the link to part of the video.http://www.facebook.com/v/728973329964

With my package I could only keep the pictures and videos of two of my jumps, so I picked the second and third.

For my fourth jump, I was doing another harness jump. I figured I would try a back flip this time around (wouldn’t it have been great if they had a spring board so I could attempt more complex aerial tricks?), but the Aussie/New Zealander instructed me differently. I wondered if he was angry at me for doing a flip instead of just running on the last jump like he told me to. What he did was have me stand on the edge, with the center strap (see above pictures) hanging down under and through my legs. All I was supposed to do was step backwards and drop. This is known as the Ultimate Jump, or Ultimo. So, I did what he told me, and it ended up being an entirely upright-facing freefall, which was fun, but I would’ve preferred to just go head-first again if given the opportunity. I still loved the drop, of course, but as you can see, I’d already become too greedy for adrenaline and wanted more kicks. This could be dangerous…

I returned to the elevator to collect my things at the top and get my videos and pictures. I was disappointed to only get two sets with the package, but that’s better than one! I had enough visual memories of this experience. I bid farewell to my new friends at the tower, who had seen me through the four jumps. I also ran into a group of elderly Japanese who had just been watching my last jump, and they all met me with a big oooooooh (think of the Pizza Planet alien toys in Toy Story when Buzz Lightyear first appears in the claw game). I’m the celebrity of the morning.

I dashed back down to the street and hailed a cab. I didn’t trust myself to be able to make it back to the ferry in time by foot, especially if passport control was as bad as at Hong Kong. I reached the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare, and there was no line at passport control. Goody gee. I was exhausted from very little sleep last night and just wanted to pass out. I did so on the boat and consequently was not given my free meal. Assholes.

I arrived back in Hong Kong, and got a green tea flavored Frappe from the McCafé. It was okay. Then I tried to order roasted duck from a place that I’d say is the Asian equivalent of a Boston Market. The duck was mostly bone. But hey, it was really cheap, so I got what I paid for. My initial afternoon plan had been to go on a hike to see the largest seated Buddha statue in the world, but I worried I would get too late of a start in the day, and I was just so tired. I definitely had come down from my earlier jumping high.

I decided to do a very non-sight-seeing activity and go see a movie. I really wanted to see the Avengers, but it didn’t look to be playing anywhere nearby anymore, so I decided on The Amazing Spiderman. I went to the movie theater in the ICC, and enjoyed an Oreo Hot Fudge Sundae from the Häagen-Dazs shope while I waited for the movie to start. Best part (besides the movie and sundae)? No previews. And I was very happy to have a movie in English, not dubbed over in the typical Russian manner.

This was just a quiet night for me. I stopped at a 7-11 on the way back to the hotel and bought a beer. Then I sipped it casually as I perused the internets and eventually went to sleep.

Seoul (for real, and not just the airport) tomorrow! 

Hong Kong Phooey! 9-11 July, 2012

Title refers to the Hanna-Barbera cartoon, btw.

Ok, I think my blogs have been far too detailed as of late, although I believe that it’s in the details that my good thoughts and ideas take shape (although I’m sorry you all have to sort through a bunch of crap to get to them). I’m also catching up on my writing while back at work, and even though I have been lucky to get a lot of downtime, I have an upcoming promotion review to prepare for and can no longer put the necessary time in to write entries as lengthy as the last three. I’ll try to put less writing and more pictures, although it ends up taking me forever to upload pictures with this bad internet. Remember, I’m doing this for you, though ;-), so please enjoy!!!

Something I’ve noticed from the planes while flying over the waters in Asia: there are a lot of freighters.

I can look out from the plane at the sea below and I’m always guaranteed to see at least one massive ship. The sheer amount of products that go through East Asian ports is just mind-boggling…

Two freighters and some islands

 My excitement built quickly as the view turned to emerald green hill-covered islands, with the only flat spaces filled by high rises. We flew a perfect east-to-west traversal of the whole Hong Kong territory. I had to sneak some pictures with my camera, because by this point they had said to turn off all electronics.

Only a snippet of the great view

This was probably one of my favorite final descents of all time. And I've looked out the window during a lot of airplane descents.

The plane landed in the beautiful Hong Kong International Airport, right on the water. The terminal baggage claim area, despite being the largest I had ever seen, was also the busiest I had ever seen. The line for passport control also took a very long time. Although they never take very long to check my individual info and send me through. I guess there’s something to be said for carrying a US passport. We still can get around pretty easily despite how negative some people believe our international reputation to be. I still have 7 years until my current passport expires, though, and I think the “sensitive electronics” inside will start to lose functionality before too long. The edges have already started getting bendy from situations like carrying it in my pocket while out on the town at night and such. The humidity in these Asian countries also didn’t help.

I hop aboard the Airport Express train and then switch to the metro. I have to get to Tsim Sha Tsui station in Kowloon, which is in the Hong Kong special district and is for all intents and purposes part of Hong Kong, but it’s across the water from Hong Kong proper. This actually makes for the best views of the best harbor skyline. My “guest house” is in the Chung King Mansions, a notorious building with a population of almost 5000 people, known as one of the cheapest residential complexes in Hong Kong. Thus it is home to a lot of ethnic minorities, several very cheap guest houses and hostels, and the lowest floors our stacked with small shops of people selling all sorts of clothing, accessories, and used electronics.

Walking past the front of this area every day, I would be asked if I wanted to buy a watch, every single time. I probably got asked this so much because of the lack of a watch on my wrists. But my answer would always be a stern no. I did not enjoy these moments, because I like to walk around jovially throughout the world, but then when I do so in a place with very vocal salesmen, they probably consider me an easy target due to my friendly look. So, I had to train myself to look like a no-bull-shit asshole each time I walked through these areas, never making eye contact, never smiling, looking like I’m on a mission. This seemed to work out for me when I remembered to do it. Sometimes I was also offered silk shirts. Those guys were more vocal. “Why wouldn’t you want to have a nice silk shirt?” They’d ask. Truth is, I think it would be nice to have a silk shirt. But as I’ve said earlier, my needs to stay lightly packed had cut off my materialistic tendencies for the most part. And that’s hard to handle in a place like Hong Kong where shopping is king. There were several “5^th Avenue” types of streets in the city that boasted all the highest of the high end shopping possibilities, which was quite the contrast to the fact that items at convenience stores were the cheapest I’d seen anywhere yet. The extremes just keep getting more extreme. That’s more interesting, anyway. This stop was going to be full of “extremes” for me. You’ll see.

Another thing I was often offered were massages. There were lots of women out in front of their buildings offering lengthy massages for very good prices. Some also offered hashish along with the massage experience for enhancement and spiritual enlightenment, I’m sure…  I don’t know why I never took any of the ladies up on the massage offers. They definitely were affordable. I also wondered how many of these ladies were just offering massages or whether they additionally offered, well, “massages.” The happy ending kind. Entirely possible. Prostitution is legal in Hong Kong, but the outright solicitation of it is not. But apparently “one-woman brothels,” as they call them, abound, if you know where to look. Some are disguised as massages and spas. Others just don’t even bother with disguises. My first night, I also had a guy walk up to me, and after I was ready to say no to a watch or shirt, his voice dropped down really softly and he told me about some great girls at this one location and how they gave the “full service” along with some sort of drug in addition for an extra good time. This all sounded a bit much, and I politely declined. One always wonders, though…

What they should do (and I think it’s a million-dollar idea that I shouldn’t post on the internet, lest someone steal it and make millions), is offer a package deal of massage plus watch. I think that would go over really well. The men and ladies could team up and provide a double whammy for deal-hunting passersby.

Anyway, I had a lot of trouble getting to my guest house, because there were several different hotels owned by the same people, and they would use the names interchangeably. Like, I booked a room at Hong Kong Back Packers, but I received a confirmation email from the Tai Wan Hotel (name irony!). And then when I wanted to get up to the floor where my hotel was, there were not enough elevators to handle the numbers of people wanting to go up and down. I would shortly thereafter take to the stairs (once I found those hidden bastards). I even had an employee from the Tai Wan Hotel try to tell me there were no open rooms left in his hotel, even though I kept saying I had a reservation and received email confirmation and all that, but I finally reached the correct reception desk and was shown to my room. The place was tiny, about the size of my Tokyo hotel room, except instead of the miraculous space-saving effects of the futon; they tried to fit a twin bed in there. There was also a tiny private bathroom, but the shower was right over the toilet and there was barely any room to squeeze between the toilet and sink. It was air conditioned, which made me happy, as this was one of the southernmost, humid places I had ever been (I’m always stuck in the Northern Hemisphere…). The only problem was, it had a power-saving system where I had to put the keycard in a slot for the power to go on, so I couldn’t have AC or charge any of my electronics while away from the room. The electrical outlets had built-in adaptor plugs, so the universal adaptor I bought in Taipei was of no use to me here. Over-preparedness fail.

In my first evening, I decided to hit the waterfront for the view and the Avenue of Stars. The Avenue of Stars is the Chinese version of the Hollywood walk of fame. I walked the majority of the Avenue’s length, but I only managed to recognize Jackie Chan, Chow Yun Fat, Jet Li, and of course a statue of Bruce Lee.

Avenue of the Stars!

Bruce Lee!

I also stared continuously at the gorgeous Hong Kong skyline (I was still in Kowloon).

I think the Bank of China Tower (zig-zaggy on the left) used to have a more commanding presence, but the IFC tower has totally put it to shame.

I got confused about the IFC tower versus the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. The IFC is the one in this view, and it looks taller from a lot of places than the Ritz-Carlton, until you get to the top of the Ritz-Carlton and realize you’re even higher. I think the illusion occurs because the IFC tapers a bit at the top, whereas the Ritz-Carlton has a flat top. Pictures of that one later.

I walked aimlessly more through Kowloon and got myself lost for a bit before eventually figuring out where I was, after walking down a super expensive shopping street. The humidity was so bad that every time I walked past a store and the automatic doors slid open, I would be engulfed by a glorious and inviting blast of air-conditioning. This was the ultimate method for getting customers off the street and into your store; if not for the fact that every store was well conditioned and any single one of them could’ve pulled you in with its temperatures. I reached an Italian restaurant, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten pizza since early May. I also wanted a prolonged escape from this humidity. I usually try to avoid sit-down restaurants when I’m just travelling by myself, unless I’m in an airport where plenty of other people are doing it. It makes me feel funny for taking up a whole table for myself, especially if they only have four-person tables available. I ended up at a four-person table, next to a table of a loud Australian family. I ordered a really good mango cocktail, a lobster bisque, and the best seafood pizza I’d ever tasted, made with Norwegian salmon.

Seafood Pizza!!!

This was one of the best meals I had all trip. I realized at this point that I really hadn’t eaten much, nor sampled too much local cuisine, just because I was always on the move, or some of the smells just didn’t do it for me.

I went back to the air conditioned shelter of my pint-sized hotel room and slept with a satisfied stomach.

I was once again in a room with no windows, and I once again failed to get up early. My intent had been to avoid the crowds and intense midday heat when I rode the Peak Tram, a historical funicular (or “funny car,” as I lovingly like to call them) that goes to the top of Victoria Peak for the best panorama of the city. Instead, I got both a crowd and too much bright sun.

The Peak Tram base was near the Bank of China Tower.

And when I turned around, there was the IFC Tower.

I arrived at the Peak base and waited in line with a very diverse collection of mostly white tourists. We finally made it onto the funicular, which went surprisingly steeply up the mountain. There were a few intermediate stations before the peak, which some locals actually use. A proper all-inclusive metro pass can be used on this ride.

I arrived at the Peak station, which turned out to have a multistory food and shopping center through which we had to ride escalators to reach the observation deck on top (clever money grabbers). I was then served with the most gorgeous view, but I didn’t stay long because the sun was so bright (and I still lacked sunglasses) that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Even squinting was painful.

I ate lunch at a Burger King, for a change, chowing down on a Double Whopper; then rode the funicular back down to the bottom, where an even bigger crowd was waiting to ride up the mountain. I rode the subway a short distance to get the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Center, in front of which was the famed Golden Bauhinia Square.

Golden Bauhinia

Then I needed a respite from the heat and went back to my hotel (“Hey Buddy, you want to buy a watch?”). Another thing about the Chung King Mansions: apparently some enormous percentage of all the second-hand cell phones that end up in Africa will at some point find their way through the stores at the Chung King Mansions. Impressive

After a shower and some relaxation and confirmation that I had ferry tickets to Macau in the morning, I leave at dusk to see the Symphony of Lights; the world’s largest light show. Every night, dozens of buildings around the harbor participate in a musical light show by either shooting off laser lights or blinking and flickering other lights in time to electronic music.  It didn’t turn out to be that impressive, except for the scale of synchronization throughout the skyline. The Bank of China Tower featured prominently, with the “zig-zag” lights literally dancing the most creatively of any of the building lights. I got some great twilight pictures of the harbor.

And proof that I was there…

IFC's still not as big as my head.... 

And, my first attempt at a panorama shot. I never loaded the CD that came with my camera and just found a free stitch-assist program online. Not very high quality, unfortunately.

After the show ended and I speed-walked away from the crowd, I headed to the Ritz-Carlton, which is part of the tallest-in-the-city ICC (International Commerce Center, as opposed to the International Financial Center across the harbor). I was going to get some drinks at Ozone, the highest bar in the world. Sitting at the 118^th story, this also marks the highest individual floor I had ever been on. I decided that walking there would be easiest, but I ended up having to navigate a lot of construction and pedestrian detours around the ICC. I finally figured out how to get up into the tower, after walking through another high-end shopping center.

On the last elevator leg to the top, I rode with a couple Brits, named Sarah and Clinton. They were not a couple, just good friends, and they offered for me to join them. I accepted. We were seated facing directly out over the city, at a table built into a floor-to-ceiling window. And now I had the best view of Hong Kong.

This doesn't do it justice

The Brits and I traded off buying each other rounds. We first bought pretty cocktails. I ordered the signature “Aria 118,” which ended up being some sort of sweet "–tini" type of drink. Afterward, we just ordered beers. We shared each other’s stories and then spoke about life, politics, liberalness, and the world. They were both originally from Bristol, which I hadn’t been to, but I had seen the original TV series “Skins,” which took place in Bristol. So of course I was an expert on the area…. The two of them had worked together at a restaurant or bar and became best friends. Then Clinton moved away for two years to live in New Zealand and travel a lot, finding work where he could. Sarah now worked in Hong Kong, and Clinton was getting low on his money and gradually making his way back up to England, via a succession of ten flights that cost the same as the most direct route from New Zealand to England. I admire people who have the balls to pack up everything and take all their savings and live an adventure abroad. I’m too scared to not have the steady income. I often wonder what might happen if I sold off all my stocks, took the cash, packed my bags, and saw the world. Maybe I’ll wait ten years to do that, when I hopefully have a lot more savings to work with (though the stock market has not been working in my favor, and I’ve watched a lot of hard earned money just disappear because of silly Wall Street action. I'm torn between wanted to just save the money and locking it up in investments for the growth potential). I’m fine with making my salary, despite the conditions I have to live with at work, and I like being able to afford flights on the major airlines. I have come to despise budget airlines, if only for the fact that I don’t earn great mileage benefits from them the same way I supposedly can from the other airline consortiums of SkyTeam, Star Alliance, and OneWorld. I also am the type of person who likes pricey activities like skiing, and if I had the free time, I would take up base jumping and maybe also get a skydiver’s license. Hell, I just love knowing I can afford to splurge if I want to and it’s not going to cripple me for the foreseeable future. I have no idea where I’ll be a year from now or even six months from now, because of the inherent mobility in my job, so I shouldn’t speculate on all the future possibilities. I just need to keep a list of places I want to go and activities I want to do, and when I have vacations, I will do them.

  

118 buddies, Clint and Sarah

After a great conversation, Sarah and Clinton decide to leave, because Sarah has to work in the morning. We bid farewell and I stay for one more beer, admiring the skyline as many of the lights turn off for the night. I also sneak a picture after taking what Clinton referred to as “the most aesthetically pleasing piss” of his life. The bathroom also had a floor-to-ceiling window for our viewing pleasure mid- or post-piss.

Also doesn't do the view justice

It wasn’t even midnight yet, but I actually had to wake up early in the morning. I had a special splurge planned over in Macau for which I needed to catch a ferry….