After traveling from Seoul to Tokyo to Hong Kong to parts of Southern China, back to Tokyo and then back to Seoul, I’ve finally stopped moving and have myself an apartment. It only took 2 1/2 months of country hopping and moving around to settle down in one place, which doesn’t seem like a long time, but feels lengthened and weighted by the number of large heavy bags I’ve had to drag around. Being a nomad is fun and full of adventure, but it sure feels refreshing to sleep in my own bed and have a place to call home to return to after a mercilessly cold and chilly day in Seoul. It’s been below zero everyday since I’ve been here (it’s only been 4 days).
My apartment search started while I was in Tokyo and I used a site called ‘Near Subway‘, which is run by an English speaking Korean real estate agent. I had one of my friends in Seoul speak to him and he checked out with the standard fees and procedures. The service he’s provided to me has been outstanding and I couldn’t have accomplished many of the moving-in tasks without him.
Here are some of items that felt as if they were beyond the call of duty:
Called Korea Telecom repairman for me 3x to fix my shotty internet.
Went to the furniture store with me and helped me pick out and negotiate a better price.
Went to the bank with me and helped me wire transfer deposit money.
Helped set up a cleaning of the apartment before I moved in (in Korea, the previous tenant doesn’t clean the place)
Helped me complain to the building manager to fix my broken door and light (they were both broken)
Took me to lunch and explained the entire apartment rental market.
It may sound like a minimal amount of extra work or trival tasks, but when no one speaks English, it’s HUGE. So if anyone is plannning to move to Seoul and needs a real estate agent for an apartment, definitely email Gilbert Kang.
Pics of my loft apartment layout, the building, and the view at night.
I’ve been staying at my friend Lisa’s parents’ house for the past 10 days and every morning they’ve had a traditional Japanese breakfast, which includes rice, salmon, fermented soybeans, sliced eggs, and pickled vegetables. It’s quite healthy and a great way to start off a day, an very acceptable and amicable alternative to the monotonous taste of oatmeal and eggs.
So when I arrived at the Westin Miyako in Kyoto, and I saw the “Japanese breakfast” on the menu, I couldn’t resist trying it, even if it was almost $40 after the service charge. To my amazement, it was very comprehensive and included lots of items that would take too much time, if I had to (or even the capability) prepare it myself. Unfortunately, I don’t know what each item I was consuming consisted of, but here are some pics of the morning feast.
It’s been about a month since my last post, due to my self-induced time constraint to tie up all the loose ends before I officially leave for South Korea in a week. I turned in the keys to my apartment, had to fix my leased car before returning it to the dealer, along with dealing with the dreaded IRS, health insurance, and rolling over my 401k from my previous employer.
I did manage to squeeze one night in San Diego at an event (Taste at the Cove) that offers the best food of San Diego from a variety of high end restaurants, along with a runway fashion/lingerie show and live/silent auctions. My good friend, Brent, is close with the team doctor of the San Diego Chargers, who has many local sports celebrities help support this great event that helps kids with surgeries and treatment that they otherwise could not afford. Last year, Brent and I, along with our two dates, went to the Playboy Mansion party based on our drunken stupor during the auction. This year, he ended up with a signed REM guitar.
“That fart smell steam, the hamster cage of wood chips.” A quote from the movie Fight Club, describing the scent of the house Jack/Tyler Durden were living in. It’s not too different from my reaction when I first stepped into the Globetrotter Hostel on Avenue du Mont Royal, on the East side of Montreal.
Surrounded by independent boutiques and lots of trendy restaurants, this neighborhood is filled with bicyclists going to and fro around buildings of older European architecture. But the building that the hostel occupies is the definition of an extremely, outdated roach motel. I was led upstairs, on a severely steep and seemingly unstable set of squeaky stairs, to the secondary level of available rooms and dormitory beds. The dirty room had splotches of old paint on all the walls, which were painted various random colors. The wall separating my room from the adjacent room is a thin piece of plywood, which moved when I accidentally nudged against it. Lighting is a lamp, without its shade, with a single bulb, sitting on top of a makeshift nightstand of the plastic box variety. Every step I took, the room responded with an eerie and mysteriously loud creek. A fan is provided as compensation for the lack of A/C, which I turned on the entire night, being that it’s 80-85 degrees all day and night. And finally, one single bathroom is shared by 12-15 guests, depending on how crowded the hostel is for that particular night. Far and away, it’s the most humble of all my accommodations throughout this entire trip. On the upside, it’s only for one more night and then I bid farewell to Canada.
Looking out the bus, crowded view
With the bright, infectious smile anew
Searching deep her eyes french blue
Social activity, beret, yellow hue
People, not person, don’t have a clue
Masses tune in, insensitive crew
Quarter-life motive make the move
Old country, Mediterranean blue
Leaning, bobbing sun induced snooze
Chaos, bags tossing around in queue
Connect the dots backwards so few
Flaming puzzle piece bid adieu
Pattern interrupt, Julie Blue
Sometimes, certain events coincide with each other as if they were meant to be. That’s the feeling I get when thinking about the Coldplay concert last night. I was walking from the waterfront of Montreal towards my hostel when I passed the Bell Centre, where I saw a crowd of people gathered. I was headed over to ask what was happening, but then I heard a heavy set man bellow, “Tickets, I’ve got Coldplay tickets!” At that moment, I also realized that I was listening to Viva la Vida on my ipod. Odd. Click for pics/video
When in Toronto, one of the best places to hangout late at night for a cool drink and some music and dancing is The Social, which my glacier buddy recommended. I’m standing there at 11:30pm and there’s about 20 people in there. “Nice recco, Kelly”, I sarcastically thought. I ordered my standard vodka soda and then within 30 minutes, the place was packed by hundreds of college and recently graduated crowd. The bartender was so nice that she would save my drink with a napkin over the drink. After going out for a quick smoke, I’d come back to the bar, look at her and go, “grey goose shots”? She’d pour them without hesitation and both of us would drink. We must’ve done that 3x and I probably had 4 or 5 vodka sodas, while acting pretty cocky that they had no effect on me. “These vodkas in Canada are weak”, I slurred.
Anyone who’s drunk large amounts of vodka knows, that it’s quite stealthy, what I call an incubated liquor, hiding and slowly working it’s way while gathering and building up energy, similar to an ebola virus infection or being attacked by dozens of masked ninjas. Boom – it hits me. I start slurring and as I’m getting ready to leave, I realize how crazy loud it is in there and I want to tell her how sweet she’s been. So, being in my drunken state, I start writing her letter on a napkin. I still can’t quite remember what I wrote, but I hope it was some great love letter that expressed my deepest feelings for vodka. Please keep in mind these fuzzy camera phone pictures don’t do Rebecca the justice she deserves, as she’s a beautiful gal.
What a huge blunder on my part! I booked the wrong dates to my hostel in Toronto, leaving me with nowhere to stay, as I frantically dialed several hostels for a summer weekend reservation, which is virtually impossible if done at the last minute. With no other choice, I went on Priceline and bid for a hotel, which I got for $92 after taxes/fees.
After being delayed on my flight from a lightning/thunderstorm, I landed in Toronto, only to have my baggage delayed also. I watched every other person grab their bag as I just stood there, but it finally made its way down the belt and I headed straight for the airport shuttle bus.
When I arrived at the Hilton, the lucky winner of my $75 bid, I swore I walked into the monster of all Indian weddings, although the 15 or more very large men dressed in black suits and all with ear pieces made me think otherwise. Now I was really wondering WTF was goin on (keep in mind it was past midnight).
I checked in, then asked an Indian couple, as they were just standing around, “What’s going on here? What are you guy’s waiting for?” Turns out there were three huge Bollywood stars staying at the hotel. They’re doing a tour that would cost $1mm for each live show. I, being the lone non-Indian, stood there and waited for the big stars to come. The Indian man next to me had to repeat himself three times the names of the big stars. After five minutes, my patience had come to an end, and I went up to sleep.
The following day, I googled who the stars were and turns out, one of the stars, Aishwarya Rai, is considered the most beautiful woman in the world. Had I known that, I might have waited at the very least, an additional two minutes. Here’s a quick video of the “mobbing crowd.”
Everywhere you go in Lake Louise and Banff, there’s lots of talk and signage about bears roaming in the woods. This is, after all, Bear Country. All the garbage cans are industrial strength metal with handles that only humans could open, so that they’re “bear-proof”. Where are all these bears hiding? I don’t see any, although I would never want to encounter a bear, since you can’t outrun or out-climb one.
Yesterday, while on the gondola up Lake Louise Mountain Resort, I saw them, just rumbling around the field, playing with each other. In this high altitude (5,700 sq ft), small patches of ice just appear out of nowhere, in the middle of all the greenery. Quite odd.
The Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise is one of the most photographed pieces of scenery in the Canadian Rockies. Everyone and their mom has the same photo, probably due to the surrounding mountains and the lake’s distinct greenish hue. Rooms range from about $300 and go north into the thousands per night, depending on the view and size of the room. I, on the other hand, am staying at the hostel near the Samson Mall, which is about 4km (2.5mi) away from the Lake and the infamous hotel. There are very few taxis in town, so the only method is on foot. The forecast called for rain, but I didn’t have much going on, so I started the trek up the hilly road. On my way there, I saw a total of 3 people: one on a bicycle doing a vicious climb, and two, on their way down the hill, attempting to hitchhike. I knew the short 40 minute journey was near an end when the sight of the hotel and lake gave me the extra boost of adrenaline to hurry to my destination.
