Seat of Our Pants

How we roll

3 Fun Facts about this RTW (Round the World) trip of ours:

We departed San Francisco on April 29, 2009. We have to be in New York on June 4, 2010. That makes our trip 13 months, though we may tack on an additional few months. Driving across the US (to get back to sweet home California) wouldn’t suck. You can check out our itinerary here.

We started our trip with $30,000 in the bank. We blew some of our budget early on some extravagances (Jaime’s colonic cleanse in Thailand, to name one big one). So we adjusted our budget to roughly $2,000 per month, which is working for us at the moment.

As of February 7, 2010 (when I’m updating this page), we will visit or have already visited the following countries on this trip: Thailand, Myanmar, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Hong Kong, India, Nepal, Sweden, Finland, UK, Germany, Turkey and the USA (which is home for us, so that doesn’t really count).

How Jaime met Martin…

“Yes, OK, I may be staying on the sleaziest street in Bangkok, but how was I to know just how sleazy it was until I got here? And what do I care? I have my own room. I’m alone now, but I’ll meet people. That couple looks nice. Sure, he’s 30 years her senior, but they look like they’re having fun. Hm, maybe too much fun. Well, there’s gotta be someone here worth talking to. Finding them is the first thing. Smiling is second. I have to remember to smile. None of this frown-when-I’m-thinking stuff. This is important.”

Thoughts of this nature ran through my head on my first night in Thailand, five years ago. I had just left London, fresh from a job as an (overworked) au pair. I was on my own for two months with a plan to travel the classic SE Asia circuit – Thailand to Cambodia, then up the length of Vietnam, through northern Laos and return to Thailand.

I had three days in Bangkok before traveling to Cambodia. In those three days I met exactly three people. Two were the couple I mentioned above. They kindly let me join them for dinner, though I was clearly the third wheel and too naive to see that. The third person was a fellow solo traveler – the only one I could see not chasing Thai women (I really was staying in the wrong part of town). He was intensely scribbling in his journal when I approached. Though he looked very busy, I didn’t care. I’d just spent two days wandering around the city not speaking to anyone and feeling in need of a conversation. He was nice enough, telling me what to bring on my bus ride into Cambodia, but the conversation died shortly after that. I left him wondering if backpackers were a hard bunch to break into. I was certainly having no luck with them.

My minibus to Cambodia was scheduled for the crack of dawn the next morning. I was up even earlier, deciding what was best to wear on my first big bus ride, repacking my bag, and double checking that I’d bought all the items on the journal scribbler’s list. The minibus arrived right on schedule with not a soul on board. OK – this was getting out of hand. I could have written the Mute Traveler’s Guide to Thailand at that point. Was I really meant to ride for 18 hours without anyone to talk to?

With no one to ask but my driver, who pretended that he didn’t understand me, I threw by backpack in the back, carefully stashed my goodie bag under my seat and settled in for a long haul. Ten minutes later, after taking a route I was sure couldn’t possibly be the way out of the city, we pulled up in front of the Ambassador Hotel.

“Ah ha. So, we’re picking more people up at their hotels? OK. I get it. It’s early and, well, I’m sure you know it’s early – you’re up too. I just really didn’t want to drive alone to…” I trailed off.

The driver smiled at me and hopped out to help the new passengers with their bags. Meanwhile, I ran through my short list of greetings that I thought sounded particularly cool: “Word.” or “Hey-ya” or the always popular “Hey party people!” A last resort popped into my head and (sadly) out of my mouth as soon as the first person climbed into the bus.

“Welcome to the minibus!” Feeling like the world’s biggest tool, I tried to smile my way past it, hoping he didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t speak English? He was cute, though.

“Well, thank you.”

Damn. He did speak English, and from the sound of it, pretty well too. Quick, I had to think of something. Hm, maybe I could offer him something from my goodie bag. The scribbler had assured it’s contents were paramount for traveling long distances. I would probably impress my new friend.

“My name’s Jaime. Are you hungry? I have some snacks.”

“Oh, um, sure. I’ll take a look. I’m Martin”

I’d heard it was good practice to repeat a person’s name three times after meeting them. Since he was on the way to being my first friend on this trip, I put the theory into practice. The problem was, I didn’t remember that trick until a few minutes had passed. “Ok, his name is Nigel – Nigel, Nigel, Nigel.” Where I got Nigel from, I’ll never know. It would be his name in my travel journal until I heard him introduce himself to someone else, four days later.

“I heard this stuff is great for traveling. Have you ever tried Flossy Pork?” I’d pulled out the kilo I’d bought the day before. It contained a substance that looked like meat disguised as cotton candy.

“What? No. It looks vile. Let’s try it.”

And so it began. We rode together for the next 18 hours, exchanging stories, playing games (my favorite consisted of a complicated point system for getting people outside the bus to wave at you – a monk riding a bicycle with an IV in his arm trumped all), and laughing. Mostly I remember laughing.

Exploring Angkor Wat in 2004

We explored Angkor Wat together for the next five days. He dazzled me with tales of his adventures – he was on a land-route tour of SE Asia from Australia en route to China. We joked about how many children we would have together in the future – fifteen was the final count, I think. A shopping trip to the local bazaar gave us the opportunity for an impromptu ring exchange. They were cheap reed rings, but I told him that if I was having fifteen of his children, he would have to make an honest woman of me.

We parted ways after a five life changing days. His final words? “I’ll see you again, somewhere on the planet.”

Five years later – following a two year separation, international commuting, a real ring exchange in front of our closest family and friends, American immigration (don’t even get me started on that one) and very, very frugal living in San Francisco, we’re making good on that promise.

How Martin met Jaime…

I had just spent a few months in Western Australia, mostly lazing around in the Kimberly region. My plan was to go back to Sweden, and I was determined to drag my return trip out as long as possible. For starters, I had decided to travel up the Malay peninsula by train, after which I was going to head up to China and make my way to Beijing. There, I hoped to catch a train to the European part of Russia and then on to Helsinki and Stockholm. For now, I was treating myself to a nice hotel in Bangkok – I felt a bit weary after sloshing around in Cattle Class trains for a week (I later learned that traveling in 1^st class is not that expensive around those parts).

I recall sitting in a dingy internet shop when a whim struck me: I should stop by and have a look at Cambodia. After all, I was really close and I wasn’t in a particular hurry anywhere. A visit to the travel agent next door informed me that it would be pretty inexpensive, so I decided to have an espresso and read the Bangkok Post first, and then make up my mind. Two gulps of coffee and a half-hearted attempt at reading the paper later I had made my choice: of course I had to go to Cambodia.

Twenty-four hours later, I was sitting in the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel, waiting to get picked up by the shuttle. A British Vietnam war veteran was talking into my left ear, and a big, slightly damaged guy from New Jersey was droning on and on at my other side. The Jersey dude (Tom) was doing what’s known as a ‘visa run’ – going across the border for ten minutes to renew his visa. Half an hour later, while Tom was telling me a long-winded and pointless story about his fourth wife’s family in Chiang Mai, a bell boy showed up and told us that the bus service was there.

Walking out through the front doors I had made up my mind to try to sit as far away from Tom as possible. The doors to the van slid open, and I was treated to a smile from a pretty, long-haired girl wearing weird green baggy pants. “Welcome to the Mini-bus”, she said in an unmistakeable American accent.

I guess I’ve been on that mini-bus ever since.

14 random things about Jaime…

My father broke a low altitude speed record flying an F-104 Starfighter on October 24, 1977. I was born 9 months, almost to the day, later. I’m a Starfighter Love-child. It’s a great porn name, but that wasn’t my calling.

I was diagnosed with Melanoma at 19 – caused, no doubt, by too much sun and too little sunscreen. Which for me means no sun bathing – ever. No matter. I see a pale skin revolution in our future, people! Repeat after me: Pasty is sexy.

Of all the books I loved as a child, the one that stands out most was filled with images of Leonardo da Vinci’s paintings. I spent hours studying his work, dreaming of creating beautiful things. The fact that I just spent two years of my life as an accountant makes me deeply sad.

One of my nicknames growing up was the Bean Queen, a result of not being able to burp until I was a teenager.

Around the age of 8 or 9, my best friend Lindsay and I were convinced that we were going to “make it big” in Hollywood with self composed numbers we would sing and dance to – hit songs such as I’m Gonna Toot my Way to Hollywood (see Bean Queen description above) and Baby Nose Golden Hair(not a typo, that was the word order)

I give terrible first impressions. Most people think I’m a bitch, but I guess I just scowl when I’m thinking – and there is a lot to think about when you first meet someone! Right?

My husband and I are the proud owners of a 1977 El Camino named Tobey. I’m wearing an El Camino belt buckle as I type this.

I am a pilot but haven’t flown recreationally in over 3 years.

I think the feeling of uncontrollable, bubbling-up laughter is the best feeling in the world.

I am deeply, deeply in love with my husband.

I had a stomach ulcer in the 4thgrade, prompting my doctor to tell my parents I needed to de-stress. De-stress in the 4^th grade, really?

At 24 I quit my job as an Art Consultant to become an au pair in Tuscany. I’ve also worked in “customer service” at Longs Drugs (their term for someone who rings up people’s groceries), answered an 800 line at the Red Cross, filed a whole bunch of paperwork as a temp, ran a small airplane construction company and was an accountant. Yeah, my CV is not what you would call cohesive.

My mom taught me to sew when I was 10. Now I can sew nearly anything without using a pattern – my wedding dress is my most proud achievement so far.

I will find incredible success in life. I’m just not too sure of the how, the when and the where.

9 random things about Martin…

I was born and raised in the far North of Sweden, just south of the arctic circle.

I am a nerd trapped in the body of a geek with the skill set of a tool.

I was a promising child actor, but by age 14 those hormones came along… obviously. I’ve been likened to a lot of movie stars though (cough, bread pig, cough) but I guess the Hollywood dream has been put on hold for the duration of this lifetime.

Between the ages of 10 and 20 I read about a book per day. Looking back, I think it probably wouldn’t have hurt me to spend a little bit more time doing sports (Jaime: see “I am a nerd…” comment above for reason).

Among all the books I read back then, the ones that I loved the most were travel adventures.

My mom has made me promise to never sail around the world in a 40 foot sailboat. I have yet to come to terms with this sad fact and so far I’ve managed to stay on shore.

Growing up, I thought it was perfectly normal for the sun to never set in the summer. I never did enjoy the midwinter night though – too much darkness makes Martin a dull boy.

I used to be a juice bar manager and festival caterer. I also count deckhand, church janitor, cinema projectionist, HR consultant, insurance broker, statistician, freelance writer and media analyst among my former work titles.

Right now I don’t have a work title – that doesn’t mean that I’m on a year-long vacation. The plan is to complete my book writing project by the end of this trip. Selling the book will be another project entirely, but if you happen to know a publisher that’s interested, fly us a line!