We've been back two weeks from our Solar Eclipse Trip '09, and I still find myself thinking about the things that happened along the way. If I had to summarize our trip, I'd say we had a wonderful time, with a few hiccups here and there, but nothing catastrophic. We had worried about being denied entry into China, or being tracked down and quarantined if we had the misfortune of sitting near someone with a fever. Our fears were unfounded, although the precautions against anyone entering the country with the H1N1 virus were certainly out in full force. Frank told me that the real fear was that the Swine Flu virus would somehow mutate with the Avian Flu virus, which would be catastrophic for China, and possibly the world. I called this the "When Pigs Fly Flu," which is hopefully when it will occur...NEVER.
Sure, the ship's boarding process could have been smoother, and I could have lived without Alex's projectile vomiting for two days, but all in all, we had a good time. My only wish was that we could have spent more time in the ports and less time just rolling around the sea. Nothing's perfect, sometimes you just have to roll with it.
Taking cruises has been a compromise between Frank and myself for a while now. Frank's style of travel is more break-neck, one city a day, cram in as much as you can see, hit the highlights, and go home and collapse. I like to spend a few days poking around, take a bus tour the first day to hit the highlights, and go back to the places that seemed intriguing. I like hanging out in cafes and watching people go by, soaking in the ambiance. I hate unpacking and repacking and moving luggage.
Years ago, we thought cruises would be a reasonable compromise, allowing us to unpack once, but take short trips to various places. This was our sixth cruise as a family, having previously cruised to Mexico, Greenland, the Sea of Cortez, the Galapagos, and the Mediterranean. Until now, Alex did well on larger vessels, although we knew he had some issues with motion sickness on small boats, helicopters, and small planes.
Overall, I thought the Costa Classica's crew did a good job of tolerating a group of single-minded astronomy geeks. The trip's organizer worked on the Captain to allow the crew to come out on deck during the eclipse, because he was sure they would want to see it. We asked our cabin stewardess the morning of the eclipse whether she planned to go up on deck, and she said, "Oh, no! I have work to do!" Frank gave her a pair of filter glasses. She giggled and accepted them, shaking her head as if to say, "Whatever. Krajee people."
We caught up with her after the eclipse and pressed her on whether she had see in it. "Oh, yes!" she replied, "It was amazing!" She grinned from ear to ear, with the knowing eyes of one who had been a skeptic who now believed. I knew that look. I had it after my first eclipse in Austria in 1999.
Other than the eclipse, I'd be hard-pressed to come up with a favorite experience from this trip. Cheju-do was a place I'd been longing to visit, and it met my expectations. Seeing our friends in Kyoto and Osaka was definitely a highlight. It's always about 1000 times better to see a place with a native guide, especially one with patience for kids. Even better when the guide has kids to bring along.
Sometimes, it's not the big things that leave the greatest impressions on you while traveling, it's the small details. When you travel, you see ordinary things with fresh eyes. You notice how people dress the same as at home, and how they differ. You challenge your stereotypes and expectations, based on what you've read and seen on TV. If all I knew about China was what I've seen on TV, I would expect everyone to be wearing a uniform and marching in lock-step into large cinderblock factories billowing smoke, toiling endlessly putting lead paint into Power Ranger action figures. What I saw were people who look like my coworkers, neighbors, and friends, going to work, hanging out, doing all the things that people do.
In Japan, we visited the Sogo department store, which I think had been nearly demolished in the 1995 earthquake. I was enchanted by a large collection of beautiful, delicate fans, reminiscent of a more genteel time, when ladies wore kimono and shuffled down the street, faces covered and cooled by fans of paper and lace. We saw a few women in kimono walking around in Osaka and Kobe, but mini skirts and funky leggings were more the norm.
I felt immediately at ease in Korea, where the air is redolent of garlic and red pepper, the smell of kimchi with a little salty fish thrown in. To me, that smelled like my mother's house. Even though I have only been to Korea a few times, the smell that greats you in the airport or in the shops or wherever Koreans are gathered, is the overpowering, comforting (though some might say stinky) aroma of home.
Even so, it was good to get back to my actual home after being away for what seemed like a month. Though I feared getting sick before the trip, it didn't happen until I was safely ensconced in the plane back to San Francisco. I felt a tickle in my throat, which turned into a cough, which turned into sinus pressure when we landed. By the end of the week, the pressure had turned into a full-blown sinus and ear infection, dampening my ability to return to work and recover from jet lag. And yet, it was good to be back, to sleep in my own bed, to see my coworkers and friends again.
Truly, wherever you travel, no matter how wonderful, there's no place like home.
