The Little Lost Lamb of Incheon

I really will get better at telling you about my trips, not just the transit to get there, I promise. 

But here's another tale of my transit adventures!

The trip: 10 days in Hoi An, Viet Nam, primarily for the purposes of having the tailors there make me a custom travel wardrobe, then off to join WiFi Tribe in Bali for a month, then another few weeks of something somewhere for my birthday (I currently have some bookings in Thailand, but they can all be cancelled if I decide to do something with someone in WiFi Tribe instead). 

[Then home for the playoffs (YES, this is the year, I don't care for your moaning and groaning about the series with the Astros) and to see all of the new babies my friends are having this summer, and then off again for 6-8 weeks leading into Christmas. But more about that later...]

Going from Seattle to Hoi An is not a one-shot flight, sadly. I opted to use some of the miles I have been steadily accruing on my travel card, and found a flight with a 20 hour overnight layover in Seoul. Covid protocols being what they are, I figured that it would be more trouble than it was worth to try and enter the country to get a hotel. But, this is Asia, I figured. Aren't they known for their capsule hotels? What I actually found at Incheon (the Seoul airport) was more of a micro hotel than a capsule - a tiny room with a proper standalone bed and my own shower, rather than the little coffin-like pod of a capsule hotel. Per the official information, because I was flying in on Korean Air I could reasonably expect to be in Terminal 2, so I booked my hotel room for my layover in the Terminal 2 hotel and went on my merry way. 

The flight from Seattle to Seoul was a nice one - another one much like my flight to my connection in Dubai back in 2015 in that we flew in daylight the whole time. I read and am pleased to confirm that Korean Air has great leg room even in the furthest reaches of economy. And the flight wasn't overly full, so as soon as the doors officially closed my seat mate popped over into a mostly empty row and I had my little two-seat row to myself. Excellent movie selection, no one to coordinate bathroom trips around, plenty of space. A surprisingly pleasant way to pass 11+ hours. Important to pause and note here: longtime readers may recall that I generally can't sleep on planes. This continued to hold true on this flight. 

Upon landing, however. 

To start with, I had not been given a boarding pass for my continuing flight (the one 20 hours later) when I received my boarding pass for my first flight. This meant it took me a heck of a long time to figure out where I wanted to go and how to get there. I assumed I wanted to go to Terminal 2, based on the information I had read before flying and the fact that my hotel was there. But there was a sign saying "Go through if you have a boarding pass." I did not have a boarding pass. There was a giant Korean Air desk with lots of terminals. No one, in the entire two hours I spent during this part of the saga, ever came to man that desk. Or pretty much any other information desk or Korean Air desk I found for a very long time. 

I wandered this way. I wandered that way. I was sometimes the only living creature in my stretch of hallway. I encountered the same handful of crew members who thought they had helped me and could't figure out how I suddenly showed up through a different door 20 minutes later. (This happened multiple times with multiple people) Through a combination of the weight of my luggage and my mask, I could not stop sweating profusely. It was super cute, I assure you. 

At some point it became clear to me that my actual transfer point was in the "Concourse" between Terminals 1 and 2, but if I got there I would not be allowed to come back to Terminal 2. But my hotel was in Terminal 2, and I was extremely tired and very much in need of that shower. I wasn't able to locate anyone who spoke enough English to explain the whole situation to. (I did spend a good chunk of time a couple of years ago starting to teach myself Korean, but never got much beyond learning the alphabet and a collection of random nouns) I had no boarding pass to show to anyone. I shuttled around that entire airport about three times. 

I finally ended up going through a security checkpoint and made it out of the weird transfer zone and into the Concourse, even though I knew my hotel was in Terminal 2, but at least I was finally somewhere. Concourse was weirdly deserted, no one was at any Information desks, the lounges were all closed, as were most of the shops and restaurants. But then finally, finally, I found an inhabited Information desk. I showed her my itinerary on my phone, and then I showed her my hotel reservation. She kindly explained what I had already worked out, that technically I couldn't get to my hotel. I asked rather desperately if there was also a hotel in Concourse, because the flight wasn't until tomorrow. No, no there's not. I think at this point I must have been giving off strong kicked puppy vibes, because she got on her phone and did lots of texting and calling and then walked me through a few gates so that I could circumvent the usual protocols and take a transfer train directly into Terminal 2. She did warn me that I would need to find another staff member to get me back to Concourse the next day, but just get on this train here and it will all be okay. And lo and behold, when I got off the train - I walked straight into Terminal 2. No checkpoints, no nothing. 

The story wraps up fairly smoothly from here. I did go straight for the Korean Air desk to try and get my boarding pass (and finally found one that was actually staffed with people - multiple people, even!), but they couldn't give one to me since the flight, while booked through them, w as being operated by Vietnam Air, and they only existed in Concourse and Terminal 1. So that was stressful, but at that point I figured it could be handled tomorrow, and please please just direct me to my hotel. 

At the check-in for the hotel she asked for my itinerary, and I braced myself to go another round when she determined that my connection left from a different terminal, but she just needed to confirm that I had a connection and wasn't just weirdly loitering around the airport. Then she handed my my key, told me checkout was at 11am not 7am like I had feared, gave me the WiFi password and pointed me to my room.

My beautiful blessed room (that I was very clever to have reserved in advance, because they were fully booked by the time I finally showed up at the front desk). Air conditioning, a big bed covered in those crisp white hotel sheets, and my very own gorgeous shower. I used it twice. 

The next morning involved a little more Lost Lamb wandering, but this time I had a printed out itinerary with a special Transfer stamp from the ladies at the Korean Air desk in Terminal 2 that I was able to use to get shepherded around several more checkpoints to get back to Concourse, located my gate, and hung out there until someone showed up and was able to print me my boarding pass. Where I started working on this blog post. 

Fun little benefit of all this drama, though. I was so exhausted by the time I finally got settled into my hotel room that I was able to sleep overnight, and I've been more or less on local time ever since. After the utter debacle that was my jet lag last winter in Dublin, I'll take a few stressful hours to buy me two more functional weeks of my trip!

Checking in From the Emerald Isle

 Hello everyone!

Sorry I have been lax in updating you. I'm in Europe now, after a brief sojourn home to celebrate my Mom's birthday. There aren't too many pictures to show you - between my work schedule and the jet lag which is only just starting to lift, I haven't ventured much beyond my little neighborhood. I am right in the heart of Dublin, though, so it's not a bad neighborhood to stick to! 

Since there aren't any wild tales to tell right now, here's a smattering of things I've learned or noticed:

• This is a wildly international city. I can probably count on my fingers the number of actual Irish accents I have heard! Almost everyone here, myself included, seems to be from somewhere else. Maybe that's just my neighborhood (see "haven't been anywhere else," above), but it has certainly been a surprise. 
• Fireworks are a Halloween thing. I gather they are illegal in Ireland but legal in Northern Ireland, and with the open border you basically get fireworks going off all over Dublin for a solid month leading up to Halloween. On Halloween itself it was nonstop for hours. When I went out that evening, the whole city smelled of that unique smoke/ash that they generate. 
• Churches EVERYWHERE. 
• Frustrating but also supremely useful: they don't have American junk food here. Junk food aplenty, to be sure, but it's not American brands and even the ones that seem like they will be straight dupes actually taste quite different, and not usually in a way I enjoy. So my eating habits are being kept in check whether I want them to or not! My kingdom for a bag of plain unflavored potato chips. 
• Also on the subject of potato chips: they come in every flavor I've never even thought of - Balsamic vinegar. Curry. Shrimp. Cheddar and onion. And if it looks like a big US-style bag, it's not - it's actually a big bag filled with six mini bags. 

Double rainbow, as seen from my window

My time in Dublin is wrapping up here shortly, and from this point on I actually hop around quite a bit for the next couple of months - a week on the other side of Ireland in a tiny little town, staying over a pub, then a couple of weeks in London and a couple of weeks in Paris, then home for the holidays (again, a couple of weeks), and then I join my first Chapter with the WiFi Tribe! I'll talk more about them in another post, but in short it's a really neat digital nomad group full of people doing just what I'm doing - traveling while working remotely full-time - that sets up shop in various places around the world for a month or so at a time. I'll be spending January with them in Dahab, Egypt! 

How I Got to Barbados

 Or: A Tale in International Travel in the Time of COVID

Just landed, very tired, and VERY overdressed for the weather

Traveling to Barbados during the pandemic is a bit of an undertaking. But then again, I probably wouldn't have traveled to Barbados in the first place if it weren't for the pandemic - it's not exactly a backpacker hotspot (expensive, no hostels, etc), and if I'm coming this far down in the Caribbean I would be heading to Guadeloupe under normal circumstances. But because of the hardcore protocols, they have kept their numbers astonishingly low the entire time, so it's safe to be here - safer than at home, actually! And there is some visa flexibility with the new Welcome Stamp for remote workers, and as an added bonus it is reasonably close to the time zone I still work in. I'm working on transitioning to an asynchronous work set-up, so I can move freely ("freely" - again, pandemic protocols) to other parts of the world while still supporting myself and helping out at the office. 

So, these protocols: The primary hurdles are the PCR test and the government-approved quarantine locations. I had to find a place that would do a nasopharyngeal swab for my PCR test (that's the one that goes way up and makes you sneeze on the doctor), and get the results to me quickly enough to make the 72-hour cutoff. These aren't your nice free drive-thru ones. In fact, the main follow-up question they asked everyone during processing at the BGI airport was if I self-swabbed or a trained medical professional did it for me. If you decide to follow me down here, make sure the tester is the one physically jamming the thing up your nose. 

There is also an app you have to get, the BMI Safe app, which helpfully includes a space to upload your documents and a link to the immigration form you need to fill out within 72 hours of arrival. If you are not vaccinated, or test positive, then I think you use the app for monitoring for a few weeks. I have not needed to use it since arrival, but I'm keeping it on my phone for the full duration of my stay just in case. I think it also does the anonymous Bluetooth contact tracing thing. 

I also needed to book a suggested minimum of 2 nights at a government-approved isolation facility (i.e. hotel of some kind). There is actually a huge list of them, but I chose the Coconut Court Beach Hotel and I do recommend it. Several in-house restaurants will deliver room service while you are quarantining, and if you are vaccinated you are allowed to move freely within the hotel and use the pool while you wait for your results to come in. You just can't leave the property - which includes not going on the beach. And each room is ocean-view. I chose it because it was basically the cheapest option that was still on the beach, but I actually really liked it. FYI - the unvaccinated have to take several tests after arriving in Barbados, and need to book a quarantine room for 7 nights, I believe. 

Now, for the blow-by-blow of actually getting here. 

I worked almost a full day on Tuesday, and then flew out at 9pm that night. I think it was my first time on JetBlue, and I found it to be perfectly fine, no complaints. I knew from the get-go that I was going to be very sleep deprived the whole time, as I have a hard time sleeping on planes, plus each leg of the journey was just long enough to be a long trip and just short enough to prevent me from getting a proper sleep. I did come prepared with an eye mask and inflatable neck pillow, and I think I did catch maybe as much as 90 minutes of sleep altogether on the flight to New York. 

I had a 5 hour layover at JFK, with no chance of sleeping anywhere in my terminal. Then another 5 hour flight to Barbados. I've heard from people traveling to Europe that the airlines are the ones who do most of the PCR test checking, but no one from JetBlue wanted anything to do with my results, so I hopped on the plane semi-convinced that I was going to get turned away at customs for somehow having the wrong test (spoiler: I didn't get turned away). They gave us several forms to fill out of the plane, but nothing to write with, so bring a pen! A little more cat-napping and mostly just being awake and incredibly sleepy, and we landed on a tiny little island in the southern Caribbean!

We deplaned on the tarmac (through both ends of the plane, which I have vague memories of also doing in Guadeloupe in 2008, and no other time in my life), and then worked our way through the first stage of entry protocols for well over an hour. Pro-tip for anyone else traveling to Barbados right now: choose seats right at the front or back of the plane, none of this middle of the cabin business. And don't be polite about shoving your way forward. That line took FOREVER. I made probably about 5 or 6 stops during the whole entry process, each one for another little part of the process. First was showing my PCR test and confirming that I did not self-swab. Then was showing my vaccination card, confirming that I had accommodations booked, and getting my little green wristband. Then was taking a number and sitting in a little waiting area, and when that number was finally called, giving them my information and receiving the vial for a new PCR test. Then actually getting the PCR test around the next corner. Then the actual immigrations line - WHERE THEY DIDN'T STAMP MY PASSPORT, I AM SO SAD ABOUT THAT - where I had to show them the form I'd filled out online. And then finally Customs, where I actually gave then the forms I filled out on the airplane. 

And then FINALLY I was free ("free"). I went to the taxi area, where I had pre-arranged with Coconut Court to have a government-approved quarantine taxi waiting for me (at no charge to me, yay!) to whisk me away to my hotel. Where I then waited for at least 20 minutes to get checked in. At which point it occurred to me that Island Time is probably a thing here, and I'll be a lot happier if I just realize that and accept it and incorporate it into my planning and mindset. But I got checked in, and got into my room with a view, and just became overwhelmed with happiness that I freaking did the thing, and that I'm here and it's warm and new and exciting. 

And my test results came back nice and quick, too - I woke up the next morning to my all-clear email, and was swimming in the Caribbean within 24 hours of my arrival!

Still bummed about the lack of passport stamp, though. My poor baby is still empty. 

Off on Another Adventure

 I've been awake for somewhere in the vicinity of 36 - 40 hours (the resulting brain fog is leaving me unable to calculate exactly how long when you factor in the time change), I spent about 95% of that time extremely stressed out and convinced I was making a colossal misstep in my life, and for some reason my feet ache like I've been on them the whole time instead of sitting in airports and on airplanes and generally being beyond sedentary. 

But now that I'm here, I'm so happy. 

Because of aforementioned sleep deprivation, I'm going to crash in mere minutes, but I just wanted to pop on here and announce the commencement of my next long term travel adventure, pandemic be damned, and my arrival in Barbados to kick things off. 

I'm quarantining in a government-approved hotel on the beach while we wait for the results of the COVID test I took at immigration, then off to various AirBnBs along the south coast. I was shuttled straight from the airport to the hotel, so I am basing my happiness off of a few fleeting glimpses, but I'm just so happy I'm here. I'm so happy I went ahead and just bought the plane tickets even though I was terrified. 

Paris Revisited: Day One- Arrival and Antiques

The long flight wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. First of all, it turns out that AirFrance has an absolutely superb in-flight entertainment line-up. I was actually sad that I would need to sleep on the flight. Even watching movies non-stop for both the flight here and back would leave me sad that I had missed a few. But in the end, I just watched about an hour of Harry Potter, got half the plane in an uproar when I dropped my iPod and couldn't find it, and generally amused the same half of the plane with my antics trying to crawl over my sleeping seat partner (did it successfully both times, by the way). I'm pretty sure the entire coach section thought I was Lucy Ricardo brought back to life. But I found the iPod, and my seat partner was nicely rested when he got to Paris. Apparently, he is coming home for the first time since a year's deployment in Afghanistan (American soldier). I tried to stalk him when we got off the plane, to see the family reunion, but he had luggage checked, and I didn't. So I let him have his privacy and made my way into Paris.

A little worried about the state of my hair and make-up at this point, because when I first got on the plane, the flight crew spoke to me in French. As I exited, they spoke to me in English. I think I looked distinctly less polished. 

I actually got to Laura's place with minimal mishaps- a benefit to having lived in the city before, I would imagine. Problem was, when I got to her place at 10am, I realized I wasn't positive which one exactly was hers. I remembered the right range of numbers, but not the precise one. I settled on it being one of two numbers (it turned out I chose the wrong one), and awkwardly waited on the street for about 20 minutes. Obviously, this didn't work. Luckily, I had exited the Metro station right in front of a Starbucks, so I went back, bought a random green tea, and used their wi-fi to make contact with Laura. It all worked out, and I was able to drop off my stuff, meet The Puppy, and go grocery shopping (read: bread, goat cheese, crumpets, Nutella, peanut butter. Quite literally what I subsisted on for my entire semester here).

Nootka and her mommy, after I woke them up to let me in the apartment

The main adventure of the day was finally going to a Parisian flea market. I meant to the entire time I was here last year, and just never did. When we first got there, I could see exactly why I had never bothered:

Just a bunch of aggressive salesmen and plastic merchandise. Fortunately, Laura persevered, and we found the awesome flea-markety section, full of antiques and books and buttons and truly vintage clothing:

There were also some fun winding alleys full of antiques, but I forgot to get pictures. Sorry.

When we got back in, I was pretty well bushed, working as I was on about three hours of fitful plane sleep, and only about four hours of fitful can't-miss-the-plane sleep the night before that. So I canceled my plans to go see the Eiffel Tower, and we stayed in for the night, with pizza, the puppy, and an episode of X-Files. And then I got to stretch out on an actual bed (futon, rather, but when compared to an airplane seat...) and sleep for 12 hours. Bliss.

I'M HERE!!

I think the title of this post pretty much says it all. I'm here, in France, in Paris. Things going well so far, but I am incredibly tired, so I'm going to go to sleep and post about it tomorrow, perhaps after I have taken some pictures. If we count Seattle time, which of course I am still running on, it is almost 4pm, and I have slept for less than two hours since yesterday at 8am. I've actually done surprisingly well, but nonetheless, it's really time for bed.

So I'm going to go to sleep in Paris now =)