Never Fly Alitalia Airlines

Good grief...

The Z-List

I have a long list of places to visit. I break them down into smaller lists. There's an A-List; places that I want to go right now if possible (Spain, China, Italy), a B-List: places that are on my mind and would like to visit but it's not so urgent (India, Ireland, Morocco), and so on down the line.

I also have a Z-List, places where I'd rather not go. You can take a guess which countries those would be. Iraq? Check. Afghanistan? Check. Detroit? You betcha. (I kid you, Motown...)

Which is what makes this NY Times article all the more inspiring; A group of middle-aged and older tourists on a tour of Iraq. Yes, that place we invaded six years ago. Where that madman Saddam reigned for so long. And they survived!

The danger that comes with going to such a war-torn country intrigues me. Yet I'd rather not travel to a dangerous place for the sake of going to a dangerous place. I want to go somewhere to immerse myself, to soak in the people and culture. Could I do that if I'm constantly wondering, "Could I actually die today?" and ask that question without being dramatic? I don't think I can.

I'm being honest. I cannot see myself finding the will to book a flight to Baghdad International Airport on Kayak. That doesn't mean I don't have the curiosity. Turns out there aren't any flights going there at this time.

Maybe in a few years, when the violence has dissipated and the fears subsided, I'll move Iraq up from the Z-List to the S-List. It could happen.

For those reading, what's on your "Z-List"? Where wouldn't you go? And what would it take for you to think about going there?

Travels With Pandora

Pandora doesn't have a world music catalog (yet), but you can still create wonderful Latin-themed stations.

Thinking about a trip to Argentina? Fire up the Pandora and launch a Tango station. Feeling like laying on the beach in Rio? Plan your trip while listening to Jobim or Astrud Gilberto in the background. Or Samba, if you're in a dancing mood. Maybe you're in a Spanish mood. How about some Gipsy Kings flavor?

Pandora now carries Celtic, Zydeco and Hawaiian music. And soon (I hope) we'll have African, Indian and who knows what else?

If you have Pandora stations with a world music flair, please share. I'm always looking for more.

Wa-Wa

(This is second of four essays that I had been meaning to write about my Thailand/Malaysia trip. These were essays that were just too good to fire off quickly. And since I have a bit of free time, I thought I'd work on them. Hope you enjoy.)



I sink in a leather recliner with my feet up. Matilda is working on my toes. That's not her real name, but it helps me through the foot massage.

The recliner is in a massage parlor in Jalan Petaling. As this is my first full day in Malaysia, I have no idea what this area is like. I had spent a week all over Thailand prior to arriving; A week filled with foot massages. Glorious foot massages. My feet had never felt more alive. But this isn't Thailand, and Matilda is caressing my right heel. I close my eyes and sigh. This place isn't so bad. I get can used to another few days of this...

As I open my eyes, Matilda pauses to look up at me. She winks. That's odd. Is this Malaysian custom? Lonely Planet said nothing about the locals being this friendly. Matilda goes back to work. I steal a glance. To put it gently, she is not attractive. She should be pushing carts at dim sum. That doesn't matter. As long as she can make me feel at peace, I'm fine with this.

She stops working and stands. She spreads her arms wide open. "Full body!" She exclaims. She winks again. I'm concerned, but I'm too relaxed. Why give my feet all the pleasure? My back aches, my neck is stiff and my arms are tense. I nod my head. Full body, indeed.

Matilda leads me up a flight of stairs that creak with each step. She leads me into a dim room, separated by dividers. She gestures for me to take off my shirt. Really, my shirt? I don't remember doing this in Chiang Mai. Are you sure this is really necessary? Don't I just put on a robe or something? Matilda continues her gesturing, so off comes the shirt. She winks, and I start to crave shrimp dumplings.

After 15 minutes of rubbing my back, Matilda takes a step back and asks me to remove my shorts. Hold on. Now I KNOW this sort of thing didn't happenin Phuket. Matilda gestures some more. In the adjacent room, a man and a woman breathe heavily. My mind wanders. I feel a chill. Matilda has succeeded in removing my shorts. I don't even remember taking them off for her.

I feel a tug. Matilda is going for the briefs, but the money belt is preventing her. She laughs as she undos the belt. She kisses my ear and whispers, "Wa-wa?"

I snap out of my daze. Wa-wa? What the heck does that mean? Is she asking if I want a glass of water? Does she want an extra hour to massage me? Is she offering steamed buns? I freeze. I don't want to know what wa-wa is. Not now, not ever. I spill off the table as I pull up my briefs. "NO WA-WA! NO!"

Matilda stares back in horror. The heavy breathing next door has stopped. The entire parlor is silent. I fish for some ringgits in my money belt before fastening it back on. Matilda is confused. "No wa-wa?" She asks, as if nobody has ever refused her wa-wa. "No. I'm done." She shrugs and returns my sandals, along with a handful of grape chewy candies for my troubles.

I step out of the parlor, into the sunshine. I stop at an outdoor Chinese restaurant. I sit waiting for my fried rice, making a note to myself that if anyone should offer me wa-wa at some point, to run. Run like hell.

Twitters

To cleanse myself of my addiction, I have been refraining from Facebook for the past few weeks. In its place, I have been Twittering.

I didn't "get" Twitter for a while. What can't I do on Twitter than I can do when updating my Facebook status? Isn't it the same thing? I was so wrong.

While Facebook allows you to make friends, Twitter lets you follow people. You can follow anybody: athletes, musicians, Sith Lords...you name it. You can even stalk your favorite taco truck, have its updates sent to your mobile, and chase it like a great white whale.

But for Travel Junkies, Twitter is a gift from the heavens. You can find great deals, travel articles, ideas for you next trip. More importantly, you can build your network. You'll meet fellow Travel Junkies, read their tweets. You'll make new friends in far away places that will but you a beer when you visit.

I've only been on Twitter for a short while, but it's already paying off. For the first time in months, I'm moved to start writing in this blog, with regularity. It's a beautiful thing.

And since you're here, how about following me?

No Vegas and More

I'm staying home for March Madness for the first time in six years. The new job won't give me time off until April, and also? No money to play with.

I'm bummed, but not totally. I'll just save the money I would have spent this weekend on a better trip. NYC? Bay Area? Who knows.

As for the Next Big Trip, I've pretty much settled on a destination. Now I just need to start saving up...and brush up on my Greek.