Love Where You're At

Regina is a great little city in the southern half of Saskatchewan. A place where when people from other countries and continents ask you where you're from, you mostly just say Canada. Truthfully, now remember I'm speaking in global terms, most people world-wide know where Canada is - we took geography for heaven's sakes! But mention Saskatchewan and you get a blank stare. It's a revelation to not get a blank stare!

Most of the world knows there is a Vancouver, Canada and of course there is a Toronto, they might even get a Montreal but Saskatchewan. In all my travels I've lost track of the blank stares, there have been so many. I try - I haven't given up on saying Saskatchewan and waiting hopefully. But you know at the oddest moments it does happen - the cab driver in Hong Kong who knew exactly where Regina was, the man walking down the sidewalk in Marrakesh, Morocco who just decided to strike up a conversation with the obvious foreigners and kept up the questions, forcing us to narrow the field of where we came from until he had to reveal that his brother was currently in Moose Jaw (40 miles from Regina).

Yes there are the exceptions, amazing, intriguing people you meet across the globe. But mostly, people at a certain distance from Saskatchewan have no idea where it is. We are a vague land mass somewhere in Canada if we register at all. But even though we're sparsely populated, just under a million people, we are part of the bread basket of the country with hidden treasures of minerals and ores that the rest of the country is just beginning to wake up to. Saskatchewan might just be Canada's hidden gem. But for now it still sleeps with a hiccup every now and then a small shout that is noticed, noted by the media and forgotten for the moment as we begin to slowly wake up - more on that later.

On to Regina, the capital. A small prairie city, under 200,000 people. Minimal pollution and wide open prairie. It's a little chilly from about mid October until the end of March. But we still bundle up and go for walks, cross-country ski and in the case of my neighbour, walk everywhere across town - rain, snow, sleet. And there's lots of snow but no ski hills. On the upside, kids make due, sledding down hills that those of us with more hill knowledge would call ditches. The Caraganas sleep through the winter hibernation, the prairie grass is silent. The prairies rests under a blanket of snow. There's a stark beauty in a white covered world.

When there's a wind in winter -40 celius with the wind chill is not unusual. Left your block heater unplugged, well your car might not start in the morning. Googling the term block heater - not sure we want to talk to you - climate envy warning...alerting now! Seriously, welcome to our world - it's not so bad - just different.


The Canadian prairies - mid winter,

where even the dogs may wear boots - it ain't for sissies!

Enjoy and love where you're at - it might be all you ever have!

Ryshia

Journeys End

The plane only takes me so far. There is still a dog to pick up and a seven hour car ride before it is home to Saskatchewan. Wide open spaces with nothing but snowy fields is not what I've been used to seeing. A lone coyote trots down the meridian dividing the two highways, a herd of antelope graze contently. Yes, this is home. Cold and snowy it is wildly beautiful in it's own way. But the difference from where I've so recently been is overwhelming, especially - the
temperature.







Today I look outside to a snow covered garden. But it's still good to be home.













Rourke thinks so to as the stuffed cow moos for the millionth time and he lays happily back and chomps down trying to dismantle its head.



It might be cold but snow can be a beautiful thing.



Ryshia

The End is in Sight

Today was a rough start. 4:30 a.m. is never an easy time to begin the day. On an early morning Saturday, the traffic is lighter and it is only 45 minutes to the airport through Bangkok's dark streets. And like airports everywhere, there is no down time, as crowds enter and depart in a continuous stream under bright lights that make your sleep deprived eyes burn.

I'm not ready to leave or for the adventure to end but like every journey there's a beginning and an ending.

The plane takes off over the glow of Bangkok's night lights. Five hours later we arrive in Tokyo's Narita airport where a group of us from the flight are efficiently gathered by Japanese ground crew, checked off and hustled to our transfer plane. Unfortunately, hustling takes on a new meaning as long lines at security take precious minutes and soon there are few minutes left before the next flight leaves.

Toilets of the world - one day I will write about that but for now let me share this. A trip to a Japanese bathroom found this gem. A toilet with an arm that offered more options than I had time to read. Yes, I know, reading in a public washroom, a fairly unattractive thought but this toilet was one of a kind. It offered everything from industrial flush and/or bidet to a flush sound to add to the actual or a musical flush if you preferred. So, having never seen the like - I have to share at least the armrest of this interesting contraption.

I haven't seen television in almost a month but nine hours on a plane with a television screen planted in the back of the seat behind you is too tempting to ignore. Too tired to do anything that involves much thinking I eat and watch television as the plane roars through the night and into the sunrise of a new day over Vancouver, a new day that dawned yesterday over Asia.

"Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything."

Charles Kuralt

Ryshia

One Night in Bangkok

It's a marathon of transportation to leave Koh Phanagan. First the back of a truck taxi shakes both luggage and passengers as the driver seems to hit every of the many potholes on the road. Next it's a wait by the docks and a thirty minute ride on a ferry that is more rough than calm this morning. One of many vans waiting at the Koh Samui docks, squeezes nine strangers and their luggage into it's well orestrated interior for a ride to the airport. In the only truly beautiful airport I have ever seen people are loaded into tram cars for a ride to the departure gate. From there it is another plane ride to Bangkok and then only one long taxi ride to a hotel. It is with a sigh that I drop my luggage in the hotel room on a muggy late afternoon day. I try not to think about the 4:30 a.m. wake up call that will begin another transportation marathon. That's tomorrow. Tonight it's Bangkok.

Bangkok feels more like a living entity than any city I've ever been in. It's beautiful, fascinating and, for a girl from the Canadian prairie, it's size alone is overwhelming. This isn't my first trip here but my fourth or fifth. I'm not doing an exact count but many of my trips here have been short jumping off points to other destinations.

Some say it's the traffic in Bangkok that is overwhelming, I find it's the diversity. From the woman sewing with her peddle sewing machine on a street corner to the sleek luxury limos, wealth and poverty and all of those in the middle jostle for the same space. Commerce is untamed and vendors take full advantage as within blocks you can buy anything from a Dior or D&G knock off on a crowded street corner to the real thing in air conditioned luxury.

After hours of travel a street corner cafe with a cold drink is the perfect place to watch as wide-eyed tourists are accosted by astute vendors and well-heeled locals glide artfully around the familiar chaos. And that is life in one small area of Bangkok. And for me, it's time for one more Singha - a Thai beer - before heading back to the hotel and a much to early wakeup call.

"Travelers never think that they are the foreigners."

Mason Cooley

Ryshia

Koh Phangan Tattoo - Ouch!

Wipe outs on motor scooters are so common on Koh Phangan that the resulting gashes are called the Koh Phangan Tatoo. Just the other day I saw a girl lounging by the pool with a four inch gash in her bikini clad side - the Koh Phangan Tattoo.

Still, motor scooter is such an enjoyable way to see some of these islands. They're easy to park anywhere and take a picture or explore a site more closely.

Renting motor scooters is easy - every little shop seems to have them. And the island is small - easy to explore on these small vehicles. But the tattoo does echo in my head especially when you can see why - the roads are mostly paved but there are dips and unexpected craters where whole pieces of concrete or pavement are missing. Combine erratic road repair and beach wear with an island known for partying, this is the island where the full moon party has become infamous, and voila - the tattoo.

Update:

Made it back in one piece. No cuts or bruises, just a deeper tan and an appreciation of an island that goes from sea to mountain in minutes.

The last day on this idylic little island calls for fireworks. But one problem - the resident dog, who spends her days assisting random children to find rocks and shells in the water and her evening looking for whatever doggie treasure she thinks might lurk in the gently lapping surf - also has no real liking for fireworks. In fact she is in search and destroy mode. With rockets firing off in tandem it is difficult to hold one smelly, wet lab by her rather chubby haunches. But in the end, the dog survived unscathed but frustrated that no one would let her get at those fireworks.

It's always difficult leaving a place. The time there is always too short. As the time on this island dwindles away there is another adventure to anticipate. Soon it's off to Bangkok. One night in Bangkok before it's off again for a marathon plane ride that will end one day backwards and a continent away as this journey comes to an end. But it's not over yet...

til next time

Ryshia

Out of the Comfort Zone - And Over the Edge

Yesterday was a scuba diving adventure. The first time in scuba gear since certification four years ago. Although it seemed like I had forgotten everything, it all came back. Let me say that scuba diving was not on the top of my list of things to do. With only four dives under my belt I may be certified but still a beginner. But I'm so glad I didn't listen to that little voice that screeched something about remaining comfortable, dry and on shore. Instead, I stepped off that boat and dived into another world that I thought I had long forgotten. But how could you forget such sights.

Sting rays scurry for cover. Jelly fish float with delicate tentacles that bob in an undersea exotic dance. Sea urchins waft in silent currents. Cliffs of red and orange and blue hued coral undulate in hills across the sands. Brightly coloured anemone harmonize with the urchins and scho0ls of fish flit here and there. A sucker fish follows, biting one of the divers as he cleans off anything that may have lodged on our equipment. An hour and a half under water will be part of this trip that I'll long remember.

Life is a risk. Take a chance today.

Ryshia