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Yoga for People Who Can't be Bothered to Do It

“I have an idea for a self help-book,” I said. “Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It.”

“But you can’t be bothered to write it, right?”

"Yoga for People..." is not a self-help book. It's a collection of travel essays that veer far off the traditional charted course for the genre. Really, they're more introspective ramblings about the meaning of life spliced in with strikingly accurate while always side-splittingly funny observations about the people he meets and situations he ends up in along the way. And in a weird karmic convergence, most of the essays are about places we've been recently or plan to visit on this trip: Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Cambodia, Koh Phangan in Thailand, Ubud in Bali... and of course the requisite commentary on Burning Man.

I particularly enjoyed the story "Miss Cambodia." Author Geoff Dyer nailed the feeling I had about the country when we visited in 2000. "An energetic torpor held sway," he writes. Plus he made me laugh out loud to the point where I had to stop reading the book by the pool because people were giving me funny looks. A must read for all bomads.

Many thanks to BBQ for the recommendation!

Singaperfect!

"Conveniently linked by a kilometre-long causeway to the southern tip of Malaysia, the tiny city-state of Singapore (just 580 square kilometres) makes a gentle gateway for many first-time travellers to Asia, providing Western standards of comfort and hygiene alongside traditional Chinese, Malay and Indian enclaves. Its downtown areas are dense with towering skyscrapers and gleaming shopping malls, yet the island retains an abundance of nature reserves and lush, tropical greenery"

Couldn't have said it better myself...

When you say Singapore, many Americans draw a mental picture of a Nazi-like police state with goosestepping cops rigidly enforcing lifestyle-constraining laws: criminalized gum-chewing, fines for spitting in public, caning for common crimes and a zero-tolerance drug policy that precribes the death penalty for smoking a joint.

But they'd be mistaken.

Singlish

Everyone in Singapore speaks English. It's a former British colony, after all. English is the first language taught in schools. Even the street signs are in English. However, after having spent two weeks here, it's become clear to us that the language actually spoken by most locals is not English. It is Singlish.

Here is an example of a vehement argument between our friend Jeanne, who was, de rigeur, wearing 6-inch heels, and our taxi driver, who refused to pull into the club's driveway to drop us off.

Jeanne: Pull in there.
Driver: Cannot.
Jeanne: Can.
Driver: Cannot.
Jeanne: Can!
Driver: Cannot!
Jeanne: Caaaaaaaan.

Jeanne won.

What I want for Christmas

I think I should preface this posting with the following: This is not a joke. This is for real.

For sale: An unlimited, lifetime, first-class pass on any and all American Airlines flights worldwide. Period. Forever. Oh, and it's $3 million dollars. I think the back of the card also says "This card entitles the holder to ask any American Airlines employee to kiss your ass on demand." But maybe I'm just dreaming that part.

This is the ultimate Bomad accessory. And I want it. Really bad. This is all I want this year. In fact, you can all pitch in a few bucks and make it a group gift. I promise I won't whine about not having enough to unwrap.

Click the picture to the left for more details. Or just click here.

My Pilgramage

Right now, I'm in Singapore at what must surely be the Mecca of technology--Tecca, if you will.
The photo I took with my Treo doesn't begin to capture the madness in which I'm standing. So imagine this:

A sweeping eight story open atrium mall packed to the gills with innumerable scrappy technology vendors selling everything from flat-panel G5 iMacs to illegal boxes used to clone mobile phones. And filling the void between the virtually indistinguishable shops (each one competitively blaring unsustainable volumes of high-NRG techno in a vain attempt to 'stand out') are even more insane shops selling spindles of recordable CDs and DVDs, stacked by the million (quite literally) in MiniVan sized piles.

I'll never feel this way again.

Asia Kicks Europe's Ass

And so begins another controversial posting from the team that brought you "Italy is a third-world country" and "What I did on my summer vacation."

Controversial because I'm sure there are ever so many of you who simply luhve Europe in that oh-so easy-to-love way. And why not? Most of our ancestors are from there (sorry Soleak...). Our language originates there. Our architecture, our food, our laws...the list goes on. So of course we have a natural appreciation for "the Old World" and all it has to offer.

However...

Familiarity just as often breeds contempt. And so, off the hells heels of Croatia and freshly arrived in Asia, we find ourselves as animated as the 5-for-a-dollar, inflatable, flashing, musical Hello Kitty toys that litter the stalls of every Chinatown street vendor in Singapore. Thus, without further ado, we present you with a brief yet brash list of just a few reasons why...

Asia Kicks Europe's Ass.

[BTW, as utterly white-skinned, blonde-haired, seasoned Francophiles who have never been to South America, Africa or Australia, we feel ourselves uniquely qualified to deliver this kind of arrogant bold sweeping generalization.]

If you can't beat 'em...

You remember our posting about the Croatian singers? How they are utterly inescapable and manage to maintain some sense of personal pride in the face of their awe-striking cheesiness? Well, as our little goodbye to Croatia posting, I figured I'd post this and publicly humiliate myself even more than I already did that night. That night. Oh, what was I drinking. The bartender was being "creative." Note to all you budding bartenders: more liquors does not necessarily a better drink make. I digress. Still, what could have possibly inspired me to...hell, let's just get this over with. Click here.

Well hello, Bali...

Yes, I know. Oldest gag in the book. Right up there with the ditty about Bangkok. Yet we just had to gloat a bit after reaching one of the most beautiful places either of us has ever seen. As MeiMei so aptly said, "Croatia can kiss my ass." Have to echo that 100% myself.

We decided to spoil ourselves a bit and check into a luxury hotel for our first time on this trip. So we're at a stunning 5-star resort on the ocean with a room that has a swim-out terrace directly into the pool (you're looking at it) and amazing views of little huts that are lit by candles at night, the ocean, palm tress - all for $100 a night.

Bad Day

Don't worry, that's not us. But some poor soul who decided to go out on a "boating adventure" got exactly that: an adventure. Apparently, while tooling around the island, the engine on said boat burst into flames. Fortunately, the people were close to shore and simply dove overboard and swam to safety.

The real adventure was watching the response as this tiny island coped with a burning, floating, gasoline-fueled bomb drifting closer and closer to the boat-filled harbor. Imagine Soviet-era pump fire-trucks and firemen stripping off their clothes and diving into the water to manually tow the burning hulk to 'safety.' Calm yourselves, girls. Suffice it to say that these weren't hot firemen.

Dressing up for a Phone call

Here's a first. Dale and I rolled out of bed this morning a little earlier than usual in order to make our pre-scheduled iChat with my mom, Derek and Erica, who are all together in Hawaii. I soon found myself putting on make-up and picking out something nice to wear. For a phone call. Welcome to the new reality.

A half hour later, there we were at the internet cafe having a video conference call from an island in Croatia to an island halfway around the world in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We could see my family laughing and waving. All that for the cost of about $1 US. And I just had one of those goosebump technology moments. Wow.