Thirty things to do before you're 30 (No. 5, 7, 9 and 11)

Still going through the list from this article (and still somewhat offended that the article suggests that these should be done before you've turned thirty. It also goes on to state that your "Your under-30s are one of the few periods in life when you're likely to have spare time to see the world." I could seriously scream. Okay, moving on...


No. 5 Hit a Nudist Beach in Greece/ Florida/Croatia - I most definitely want to hit up Greece, and I've been to Florida but the top thing on my list is NOT to go to see a whole buncha people naked. I'd rather see Santarini full of clothed people, thanks. The article suggests that the twenty year olds are in their prime, and that they should just strip and bare it all. I agree- it's one thing I really really miss about my twenties.

No.7 Find Love: Jamaica and Germany- The article boasts that the Hedonism resorts in Jamaica promise fun and pleasure. Really? After we're thirty, are we supposed to stop wanting that? Please. And just so you know, one day Ill make it to the Love Parade-- who wouldn't want to indulge in some techno and receive free condoms. Sign me up but only until I hit 35- then I think I will actually be too old.

No. 9 Celebrate the end of your singledom in South Africa- ( I'd really like to punch this writer in the face-- are we saying that once we hit 30 we should have already tied the knot?) I'll be celebrating my singledom with a the longest happy hour right in the comfort of my home. And ... when it finally comes to end- I won't be making my way to South Africa. Guaranteed.


No.11 Get on a sandboard Arentina/New Zealand  Well this wasn't exactly in the same place, but I say Australia is just as good (if not better). I can actually say that I did this on my 31st birthday (technically I was still thirty at the time I flew down the sand hill).  Yes! That's me on the left!! What an awesome thrill- and if you can make it to either place. Do it- even if you are over 30!!

Thirty things to do before you're 30 (No. 1 and 6)

Scanning the web last week, I came across an MSN article titled,  "Thirty things to do before you're 30". Obviously the curiosity became the best of me, and now that I've officially been 31 for a little over a month, I wanted to see just what this was about... and really to see how many of these things I have done!

The article highlights the lack of ties in your twenties- and lays out a list of things to do before you're thirty (i.e. old). The article's author, Cathy Winston an MSN Travel contributor catches the readers' attention boldly:

" Looking for travel inspiration? These high octane breaks make the most of youthful beauty and energy – while they last ... before you're 30, you tend to have the energy and disposable income - no kids - to see as much of the world as you can."http://travel.uk.msn.com/inspiration/sun-and-sea/photos.aspx?cp-documentid=151939979

WHAT?!? I might as well have killed myself by now. I thought we had gotten over that whole thirty equals old bit. I don't have children, or ties ( I didn't realize there was  still a stigma to do this before thirty) and have been living my life just as free and energetically as the twenty year olds. Okay, griping aside- the article showcases some amazing travel destinations. I've done  a few and plan to add a few more to my life list. I won't go through the slew of them, but I will make some snide comments in some blog posts.

No.1- Amsterdam Dance Event:  I've hit some pretty good parties in my life and I don't think the glow sticks are ready to be put away just yet.  I've seen some of the best dj's around and danced to the hardest house and trance. I don't care if you're 20-30 or even 50, you can always dance the night away. But I just may have to check this out in the next decade.

 

No.6 - The World Body Painting Festival :Austria  Okay- who knows if I'll ever make it to Austria- but I can say that I've seen an International  Body Painting Festival right here in Daegu, Korea before I was thirty! 

I wonder if you've seen one body painting festival... have you seen them all? I think that goes without saying... but maybe I'll see Austria for some of its other fabulous features.

Yellow Dust

The start of March brought in gloomy, dim weather. Not a typical March that I am used to, where you can start to hear the robins rise and budding blooms begin to pop everywhere you look. Instead, here in Daegu, March brought in skies clattered in clouds, drizzle and yes, even yellow dust.

I can count on two hands the number of rainy, grey days here in Daegu since arriving in August. The month March produced more bleak weather than in six months combined. The Frommer's guide doesn't mention much of this phenomenon- but if you're going to Teach English in Korea be aware- from February to June it's yellow dust season.

The sound of yellow dust slipping off your tongue has somewhat of a nice ring to it- but it's anything but glamorous.

After having been warned by some of my Korean colleagues about the yellow dust the previous week, I decided to do some research. Basically, this "dust" comes down from China. The dust is made up of heavy metals and particles that blow in from the Gobi Desert in China. I read that the dust carries nitrogen and sulfur dioxide and can cause respiratory and eye infections.

This past Saturday, as the skies went from blue to grey in a matter of minutes- it seemed as though Armageddon had finally arrived. The sky was a blanketed in dim grayness and dust. The picture you see here is at about 4 O'clock in the afternoon.

This weekend marked the heaviest and worst yellow dust that Korea had ever experienced. Alerts were sent via text message (translated of course to us foreigners by our fellow Korean friends) as well as in the bars. They warned to cover up and if possible- stay inside. I heard that the dust storm was so bad, that it actually made it's way both to the American news and soil.

It's pretty weird to walk downtown and watch everyone covering up with their hands, scarves and masks, all the while pondering what is going on. The disadvantage of being unable to speak the language is of course- you miss out on the emergency alerts. There could have been some sort of biochemical outbreak- but the foreigners would have continued on partying with no clue at all!

Having been exposed to the dust for well over a few hours while walking around town, it was too late to wear a mask or cover up- anyways the look would have really hindered our outfits as we strutted into the expat bars. Although my throat has been a little sore- I don't think the dust did too much damage.

The weather experts claim that we will have another dust storm within the next few weeks and alert that it can be just as bad. I may have to re-think the mask as a fashion accessory. We'll see.

Take a Bow!

In the West, when saying hello we often greet people with a quick wave of the hand, or even a simple hand shake when meeting people for the first time. Here in East Asia it's all about the bow.


Before arriving in Korea, I of course brushed up on some traditional Korean ways using my trusty Lonely Planet guide. Pages of traditional customs outlining the ins- and outs of the Korean lifestyle. The one thing that panicked me was of course the whole concept of the bow. Who knew one concept could muster up so much fear. Who do you bow to? How far to you go? Is it a head nod, or from the waist?

Within the first few days I learned that bowing is a form of greeting as well as a form of respect- and to reflect differences in social standing. So I bow to those who are older, and head nod to those that are of equal social position. Those that are younger than me, give a full bow, hinging from the waist. Basically, the bowing occurs when there is a social relationship. So, if I were just walking around town you wouldn't catch all younger people bowing down, but those that know me would be required to.

What I can tell you is this- it's a concept I'd love to bring back home with me. I admit that my ego may be taking over here, as there is this pseudo superstar feeling that comes along when you're walking down the halls and teenagers fully bow down to you. I can't help but feel like nobility when walking through the halls of my school.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if upon my return home, my younger siblings bowed down to me- and all of my younger friends? What if I were dating a younger man- he'd have to bow every time we met up. There may be some advantages to be thirty one after all. Of course this is such a pleasant thought- but I have a feeling this would only happen in my wildest western dreams.

Norebang! Norebang!

Norebang ( nor-eh-bang): a Korean Karaoke Bar. If there is one thing in the world that I am truly bad at... it's singing. I can barely carry a tune and let's not even talk about how I virtually make up the words to the most popular songs...

Norebang is the thing to do around here. The Koreans love it. Here’s the thing: they can do it without even the teeniest drop of alcohol. Where I’m from unless we’ve had significant amounts of alcohol to loosen us up- belting out the tunes just isn’t happening. But the Koreans marvel in it and can do it for hours. The crowd claps away, tapping their feet to the beats. The tambourines come out and well, there’s a party happening before you know it.


A few weeks ago, my school went for dinner to close the school year. Apparently, here in Korea they swap dessert for singing. As one after another took center stage, I was shocked, they were good. Really good, in fact. Not that I truly had any idea if they were even in tune or what they were saying...

I of course, was dragged up on stage and was told to pick a song. Let me remind you that 99% of the songs are Korean and therefore the selections are mostly from the late sixties to the early nineties. I was mortified. There was nothing worse than standing up in front of 40 or so of my Korean colleagues singing an outdated English song that no one had ever even heard of. I completely destroyed the song.  They smiled and clapped along of course, but I think they were just being kind.

I'm told we're gathering up again next week to hit the Karaoke bar.  I've already planned to have a nasty sore throat preventing me from participating in any sort of singing.

Home "Sweet" Home

It's funny- when you're on holiday- there usually comes a point when you crave a little of "home". You have a moment when you dream of sleeping in your own bed,  eating home cooked meals and getting back into your routine.  Even funnier-  not once did this happen while I was in Australia.

Arriving back at Seoul Airport was like placing a child in a large playroom without any toys. I was back home. Back in Korea. No palm trees. No blue sky. No Australian men. No English.

I realize I sound a little depressed, but aren't we meant to feel this way after any amazing holiday? I beleive that I had I travelled to Indonesia or Thailand- that Korea wouldn't have been so badly received. But I was back to the land of sign language, head nods and body-checking ( don't fool yourself  the Korean elderly women pack a pretty mean elbow to make their way through just about anything).

It took a few days to re-adjust to Korean customs once again- but I'm back into the swing of things. With nearly six months left in Korea- I'm all about planning the next activity, and of course, the next holiday.

The Gold Coast Part II

As the sun settled down on our second night in Surfer's, we sat outside on the patio sipping some fine Australian  Chardonnay. Easing into our seats, we were approached by two hostel staff making the nightly rounds. 

They were selling tickets for the twice weekly Backpackers Pub Crawl event.  For 30 dollars we were to get free entry to four clubs, one free drink in each club, transportation, free punch from 8-9, cowboy hat, glowstick and souvenir photo (yippee).

With only  a few minutes to discuss, we gave each other a quick glance and forked over the cash. What the hell- we only live once ( and re-live crazy pub-crawls twice).

Dolled up and ready to go, we made our way to the front gate to board the bus. By far, the eldest of the group of 60 or so backpackers- I braced myself for one hell of evening. The only way to survive the teens in heat was to either join 'em  or drink enough that I would never remember a single detail of the night.

As we were scurried and stamped into the first bar, we bee-lined it for the bar. Double Vodka please. Pronto. The bar, filled with backpackers partying it up  was flanked with bouncers who stood on small stools surveying the crowds. We chose a spot a little off  from the main crowd, where we watched in awe as the girls and boys grinded and grooved on the dance floor.

Our spying was interrupted by two ferrels who insisted that I sit on a bar stool. I kindly waved them off- with a forced smile telling them I was fine standing.  The man made a second and third attempt to parade the stool in front of me to sit down. I again waved them off. After having a a few more gulps of  my first drink- the guy tried to put the stool out again.

I'd had enough of this childish game. I gingerly moved towards the stool to put it back where the boys were standing, as I stepped forward, my heel caught the edge of the stool and I toppled sideways and face planted right into the bouncer's crotch. Clutching my drink, I raised my eyes upward staring into his face.  Mortified, I peeled myself off  and apologized profusely. I could tell he was trying to contain his own laughter- but I was more concerned with him thinking I was one of those drunk twits who slurs, "I'm not drunk- this is only first drink!!" But seriously, I wasn't drunk and it was really my first drink.

The rest of the evening proved to be a bit of a blur, moving from one club to the next- and we managed to lose the pack twice. I'm not sure how you can actually lose a 60 or so backpackers wearing cowboy hats- but somehow.... we did.  We partied it up to the wee hours of the morning- having met some memorable people. We trudged on for the next few days. We discovered Sea World, took a day trip to Moreton Island and caught some waves during a surfing lesson.

My Grandmother always taught me never to judge a book by it's cover- and in fact she was right. Surfer's Paradise proved to be the best leg of the trip. The very best indeed.

The Gold Coast Part I

First Stop-The Bottle Shop: Having heard fabulous things about the Gold Coast- we made a 4-day stop over in Surfer's Paradise. Arriving shortly after eight we met up with some thirty something men heading to a bachelor party who kindly offered us a lift to our destination.  The taxi driver asked us for our first stop.  Both men responded through sly smiles, "first stop- the bottle shop".  As we sipped on some local brew in the back of the taxi bus purchased through a drive through liquor store, the guys were surprised to find out we were headed to surfer's. With furrowed brows- they advised us to beware- informing us we were headed to Ferrell haven. You may ask what a Ferrell is, just as we did. As the taxi zoomed in and out of traffic the guys pointed out ferrell passerbys on the street.  By definition, a ferrell is a person who is nasty, gross or disgusting. As the taxi loomed on- my travel mate and I exchanged quizzical glances -- fantastic,  we were headed to the ferrell capital of the world.

Second Stop- Surf N' Sun Beach Side Backpackers: Don't be fooled by the name- both the website and name boast an oasis of sorts. Walking in through the front gate we were bombarded with a whack of eighteen to young twenty somethings partying it up in cowboy hats and glow sticks. As we checked in (to the most unfriendly staff) we were stared down like we had arrived from a different planet. I felt like a grandmother in  this place. A few 20 year old ferrells passed us by , giving us the one up and over as we dropped our 20kg packs. I couldn't help but think I had made it to hostel hell.

Thank God for small miracles, because before arriving we had booked a private flat for only a few bucks more- and let me assure you- it was well worth it. Private bath, bedrooms, and our own living room and kitchen- it was the way to go. I could only picture myself in a room with 6 other 20 year old's rooming together in bunk beds. I would have rather shot myself.

Third Stop- A quick trip around town and a bite to eat: I will sum up Surfer's Paradise with a quick sister city comparison- Daytona Beach Florida with a Vegas flair. Scouring the strip to find a place to grab a bite we were introduced to surfer's. Meter Maid's clad in skimpy barely there gold bikini's complete with hooker heels roamed the streets. Boys in board shorts stumbling with fistfulls of bagged beer and hard alcohol. Girls in skimpy dresses that were designed to be shirts- one even forgot her pants as she sported a body-suit with 4 inch heels.  I saw more skin than I cared to. I couldn't help but feel that I'd been here before-- twelve years ago on a College trip to Daytona!

In going with the flow, I secured my negative comments to the vault-- as I knew that I was once as care-free and wild as the lot of them. As we settled down to a good glass of wine and nice meal- we couldn't help but have a few good laughs at where we were.

TBC...

Six days in Sydney

Sydney: a city of friendly and overly good-looking people (and by that I specifically mean men).

This short but concise impression may be due to the fact that I had just spent six months in Korea- but nevertheless, a fantastic place to see the sights.  Besides the unusually high cost of food and drinks, Sydney boasted a fabulous hostel- Wake Up! Sydney Central. The hostel came complete with a kitchen, bar and helpful staff. I highly recommend this hot-spot hostel if you're making you're way into Sydney.

We particularly enjoyed the sidebar  until the wee hours on our second night in the city, where a one man show played awesome sing-along style tunes for the crowd.  The devastating part was completely losing the following day of vacation due to severe levels of dehydration, fatigue and full fledged hung-overness.  Why is that we never see the consequences until it is far too late?

We strolled Darling Harbor, and had wine at the Opera house bar. We checked out China Town and Hopped on and Off  a Bus Tour.  We gawked at the abundance of gorgeous men- and even took a little time out to flirt a tad. We took a day trip to BlackTown where we stood beside Koalas and fed Kangaroos (please note if traveling to both New South Wales and Queensland- be sure to do the Koala thing in Queensland - you can't hold the Koalas in NSW).

We saw the ever famous Bondi Beach and sunbathed at Coogee Beach. Most Australians will tell you that there is something with Ozone that is overly open above Australia and that we should where 30 factor sunscreen at all times (still not convinced if this is 100% true) We did just that, and after a mere two hours slicked with our 30 factor sunscreen realized that we had literally burnt to crisp ( I'm talking sun blister style). These Australians weren't kidding around.... It was only later that we figured out we had purchased an expired bottle of cream.

We sauntered through the gardens, and ferried our way to Manly to meet up with some friends.   Sydney took us by surprise and despite our sunstroke and blisters we trekked on to the Gold Coast where the adventures really began.

Turning 3-1

It's hard to believe that a year has past since I started this blog- it amazes me just how quickly time does fly- but also how much can change in the span of a year. I celebrated my 31st in high style- living it up in the land down under.  I could not have asked for a more amazing way to celebrate yet another year.

Despite struggling a tad with yet another number turn ( for some reason it was harder to write the numbers 3 and 1 than it was writing 3 and zero -- it's like it made it official or something) I was out and about adventuring and soaking in as much as  I could  in Australia.

I went sand boarding, snorkeling and even tried surfing. I hugged Koalas and lounged with Kangaroos.  I saw things I'd never dreamed of--  this was one Birthday I will never forget. I'm crossing my fingers that within the next 30 I find myself making the trek back over there.  Next post- a re-cap of the places we saw and the things we did- with of course a few stories in between.

Landing in Australia

Apparently I had been in Korea too long- so long in fact that I forgot how to communicate properly. At the airport, on the plane, at the coffee stand, the hostel and even the restaurants- answering in Korean and nodding my head in agreement when being offered just about anything.

I bowed to every  one  after having been given directions or change. I was in Austrlia- but my brain had adapated to responding in Korean ways.

These Korean customary responses quickly went away as the week progressed and we realized we could actually ask for just about anything minus the charades.

Australia was beyond words. The beaches, the eateries, the bars. The scenery, people and tours- but the best of all was the surplus of gorgeous men (they were everywhere). Having been in Korea for 6 months going down under was a jolt to our synapses- the sight of attractive men was at times almost to much to bear.

But not too much.... Ill kiss and tell you later!