GOING COACH


 

BYO Jasmine or Green Tea Teabags



Bring Asian horror flicks
 too crazy to watch at home

Need shut-eye?
Wear bigger size fleece jacket
to pull hood over face and eyes
over long sleeves to cover hands

3,300 MILES IN AMERICA ON A CHINESE BUS

 









Do the math!  So, 3300 miles in 7 days = 471.43 miles per day, divided by an average speed of 55 mph, that comes to 8.57 hours driving time each day.  Eight-hour sleep, one hour each of lunch and dinner, and four 20-minute restroom breaks add up to 19.9 hours.   It wouldn’t be bad to have 4.1 hours of destination sightseeing time.    

David the tour guide knew better, that half of the 4.1 hours will be used up waiting for strayed passengers at every stop.  He began when the bus was cutting through the desert on I-15.  He assured us that all of the sights indicated on the glossy colorful flyer will be delivered, but we should not harbor any delusions of fun or adventure for the nominal price we paid.  For a real vacation, he said, we should hire private escorts.  A few days later, in a moment of repose, he disclosed that this year alone he had lead this tour six times.    

Both he and the driver were sturdy men in physique and in demeanor.  Both looked like Chinese drill sergeants or athletic coaches.  In his role, David spoke distinctly with deliberate suppressed tone, so that his every word would not need to be repeated.  In this partnership, Kevin the driver, was seen and not heard, until Mr. Leung, the 80 year old solo traveler, failed to board the bus on time at a Yellowstone stop.  Kevin charged at Mr. Leung like a bulldog.  Before I could feel bad for the old guy, he hollered back about Kevin’s lack of service attitude.    

As David prepared us that a trip is not necessarily a vacation, we listened in a hush.  From Nevada into Utah, we adapted to filing out every two hours to use the restroom at fill-up stations.  Before long, everyone realized that even with a strong bladder, urination was priority and focal over all other activities on this trip.   

A good strategy of beating others to the stalls when executed with good luck meant added minutes to snapping photographs or gift shop time.  How the tall young woman with pretty long hair always managed to reach the install before most of us was a mystery at first.  Her tactic was to slip sideway through the bus aisle before folks even got up from our seats—as simple as that.  The motivation was practical rather than malicious, but an unspoken knowingness was later developed among female passengers to block this young woman from sprinting ahead.  She also had a pattern of holding up a stall as she pleased, with no regard for the one-minute or less etiquette silently in effect due to the long line.    

After the initial rhythm of McDonald’s and Chinese buffets, we abandoned all hope of fine dining.  We ate to abate hunger.  Although the bus drove by no shortage of other choices, we were in the grip of the tour guide, whom we owed a mandatory tip.  One evening, we were told to stock up on Cup-of-Noodles, because there will be no cheap eats ahead.  I had only hoped the Red Lion Hotel in Denver offered hot water, when a small miracle appeared!  There was a shiny and glorious bar in the lobby.  There were people eating and drinking!  My sister in law and I enjoyed cocktails and quesadillas in desperate joy.    

The bus kept going with a mission, which was to hit all the places on the brochure.  Outside Motel Super 8, Julie took a smoke.  Around the corner, under a well-lit Arby’s sign, two local young men loitered into the night.  It was Mid-Autumn; the roundest moon hung brightly above the desert town of Cheyenne, Wyoming.   

Mount Rushmore was good, but did not measure up to IMAX or Disneyland’s Circle Vision.  Ironically, the presidents’ faces looked more youthful, having been buffed by the weather through time.    

Jellystone Park was just huge with lots of pine trees.  I was happy to see plenty of bisons, elks, and Yogi Bears.  The surprise of the trip was the Grand Teton Mountains.  These mountains were majestic to the truest meaning of the word.  Their edgy crispy jagged ginormous presence matched my vision of Creation, such that I had never felt before looking at any mountains from all of my travels.  No photo, film, or even IMAX could capture the breath and span of these grand mountains seen live.    

If dining was McDonald’s and Chinese, if sleeping was 3-star inns, if sightseeing was snapping a photo, why did we take this trip?  For seventeen Filipinos, it was a reunion outing.  Thanks to this group who came on every day with smiles and greetings, and who kept up the notion that they were nevertheless on "vacation."  For a trio whom the Filipinos called "Spice Girls," it was their own road party.  Their glamour poses and their jackets and leggings in fluorescent yellow and pink brightened our days.   For the many Overseas Chinese visitors who slept off miles and miles of desert, their payoff was the last stop--the outlet stores.  For Mr. Leung, it was better to see more of America than watching life on television.  For David and Kevin, it was business.  I expected nothing and experienced all of the above—loved it. 

CRUISING 2012

 Remember the Twilight Zone episode

where the characters eventually realized

that the “town” was fake, and that the train

they hoped to get out on

just circled them back to the same place?

That was a thought I had

on board the World’s Biggest Cruise Ship

twice the length and

four times the height of Noah’s Ark.

On the 3^rd day, the ship approached an oasis in Haiti. The dove brought back to the ship, not an olive branch, but the deed to Labadee.  Now Haitians can work there, but to play there, they would need to buy a cruise ticket.

 On the 4th day, the shops in Falmouth port, Jamaica, offered the world’s best diamond and gem deals. At the prep show, the cruise presenter wild us up to repeat, “I want it; I’m gonna buy it!”  She said purchases there could worth double elsewhere.  “Sell Google stocks,”a thought bubble appeared above me.  Alas I have no such stocks, so I headed onward beyond the gates that separated the town from the mall.

 

On the 6th day, the World’s Biggest Cruise Ship was no longer big enough for me. And rather than shopping for diamonds again in the port of Cozumel, Mexico--port stops were like commercial breaks in the Twilight Zone--I jumped for the ½ hour boat and 3 hour bus ride to Chitchen Itza.  It was serendipitous--was I meant to be there by magical Mayan calculations?  Chitchen Itza stood unique and beautiful.  Egypt has its Sphinx.  Chitchen Itza, the Chac Mool.  Cool. 

Special Thanks to my 17 cruise mates:  Jenny, Anne, Ellen, Roberta, Holly, Queenie, Anita, Bill/May, Alan/Anne, Deniet/Fanny, Stephen/Rosie, and Bosco/Maureen.

AMTRAK TO CHICAGO 2011

PART I - Amtrak's Southwest Chief (Los Angeles to Chicago)

The coach seat reclined about 135 degrees, had a calf extender and a foot rest.  I rolled up something to stuff the gap for support of my back, and it was like stretching out full length.  That was good for about the first half of the 43 hours.  For the second half, I resolved to use a roll of toilet paper as a pillow to cushion my head against the window and tried other ingenuities to maximize tolerability of the limitations.   Restrooms and my luggage were at the lower deck, so I went up and down several times day and night, mostly at odd hours to beat the crowd.  Fellow riders and myself, none, except the children and a young Amish family, were pretty.  I slept well and ate good, because I was thrilled anyhow.   

 

 

Alburquerque Station - good tortilla soup and tamale

                   

PART II A - Chicago

INT. RED LINE AT JACKSON

A BLIND MAN strums guitar and sings a Jim Croce tune.  An increasing overpowering noise of an approaching train makes him stop.   A lady drops some coins in the can before boarding the train. He scours the can round and round feeling just the few coins.  He pockets them leaving the can empty.  

The subway is quiet again.  He plays a Christian song.   Another lady drops a $5 bill, and then more people give dollar bills.  A MUSICIAN arrives to unpack and set up across from him. Another train comes and goes taking and dropping off people.   Blind Man fingers the dollar bills in the can and pockets them leaving the can empty.

BLIND MAN

Have you seen Joe lately? Where's he working? 

 

MUSICIAN

Don't know, man. Not here, that I know.   I'm      

taking his spot.                                                 

BLIND MAN

Why don't he come here no more?                 

MUSICIAN

 'Cause you're here.                                             

          

Blind Man picks up the guitar and sings "Imagine."  

INT.  HOSTEL DORM ROOM

I am laying in the lower bunk.  In comes a BIG LADY hauling a medium size luggage and looking worned out.  She settles down on the opposite lower bunk.  

BIG LADY

What are you doing for dinner?                        

                      

ME

I just ate too much.  I even brought back a      

doggy bag.                                                     

BIG LADY

What are you going to do with that?                

    

ME

I'll eat it later, maybe for breakfast                  

tomorrow.                                                     

BIG LADY

I don't have any money.  That's why I'm         

eating these cookies.                                    

                                               

INT. HOSTEL DINING HALL

An Australian YOUNG MAN, a few days short of 21.

ME

How's your day?                                           

YOUNG MAN

Okay.  What else is there to do?                   

ME

Enjoy while you're here.                                

YOUNG MAN

Guess so.  I think too much.  Whenever        

my mother sees me quiet, she'd ask             

"Are you thinking again?"                              

PART II B - Chicago