We may not be on the road at the moment, living as we do in the great comforts of our San Francisco apartment. There are times, though, when we take a bit of time away from our busy schedules to poor over maps and travel guides, dreaming of the next trip. In anticipation of that happening, here’s a little write-up on eight places we’re currently drooling over. If you know of places that are equally awesome, do by all means let us know!

1) Romania

Allow me to casually drop one name on you: Transylvania. If you’re anything like us, that ought to evoke images of fortified castles sitting among dark and foreboding mountains; backwards villages where garlic-and-pitchfork toting locals are going about their days, always with one eye on the local lord and his late-night habits. Located in the Carpathian mountain range, this province was recently described to me as ‘what the Alps were like 100 years ago’. Apart from Transylvania, Romania also has a ton of interesting culture and sights, and it’s generally a lot cheaper than the rest of Europe. Spring in Bucharest, anyone?

Travel itch factor: 7 pants out of 10.

2) Cadiz, Spain

Researchers recently found the lost city of Atlantis here. Heard that before? Well this time it may actually be true. Using ground radar and various other technological magic, a team from the University of Hartford, Connecticut, say that they’ve found the remains of a concentric cityscape, buried underneath a sun-baked mudflat. There is various evidence that support the idea that this could be the city described by Plato 2,600 years ago. I don’t know about you, but I think it would be totally great to go there and… put a spade in the ground and see what comes up? Kick around the mudflat and dream a little bit? I don’t know about you, but I’d totally love getting my inner Indiana Jones on.

Travel itch factor: 9 pants out of 10.

3) Serbia

For many people, the very word ‘Serbia’ has taken on a pretty negative sound, one that evokes memories of wars and troubles dating back to the painful break-up of Yugoslavia in the early nineties. Things are far better there now though. The nation has opened up a fair bit to the EU and the wider world around them. This is probably the perfect time to visit – get in before everyone else does (I remain undeterred by rumors of hordes of Slovenian tourists frequenting the joint). Another reason to go there would be to discover another branch of the seatofourpants family tree – apparently wifey is a quarter Serb. I can’t help but wonder what adventures a quest to rediscover long lost family would lead us to.

Serbia gets 6 pants out of 10, with potential for an upgrade once we’ve done our homework.

4) The Aral Sea, Uzbekistan

Oh boy. A visit to this ecological disaster zone would definitely have to be filed under ‘adventure travel’ rather than sunbathing or relaxing. The lake is located in Qaraqalpakistan (one of the coolest place names in the universe), a remote region of Uzbekistan (which is a remote region of Central Asia), and it would be a bit of a hike to get to its shores. Or rather, once you reach the towns around the lake shore, there are still 8 hours of dried up sea bed to traverse before you’re actually at the lake. This because extremely shoddy irrigation work by the Soviet Union during the last century, irrigation that diverted all the water from the rivers that fed the Aral. The result? One of the world’s worst eco disasters. Personally, I want to go there to take pictures of the many ships that now sit uselessly on the sea floor, but this could probably end up being one of those destinations where the journey there is worth at least as much as the ultimate destination. Oh and the country lies on the Silk Route. Oh and Samarkand, one of the three corners of the world is there. Count me in.

Travel itch factor: 8 pants out of 10.

(Photo: Steve Evans)

5) Mexico City, Mexico

Americans (that’d be us) tend to regard the great nation south of the border with more than a bit of suspicion. The motives are no doubt colored by violent movies and an almost exclusively negative news flow (and perhaps by the odd drunken afternoon raid into the lugubrious streets of Tijuana). As someone who has managed to (occasionally) find interesting sides to Tijuana, I can’t wait to see what Mexico City has to offer. No matter what method you use to count, it is one of the absolutely biggest cities on earth, populated by far more than 20 million people. I’d love to explore what this mega city has to offer in terms of culture, food and sights – the DF has a few of those, being built upon the ruins of at least a couple of ancient empires as well as having a half millennium of colonial history to fall back on.

Travel itch factor: I’ll give it 7 pants out of 10.

6) Mustang, Nepal

We’ve stood on the very threshold of this ancient Tibetan city state once before (where the above picture was taken), and I guess we won’t be completely satisfied until we’ve cleared that Kagbeni checkpoint and ventured into the kingdom itself. At this point in time, Mustang is probably more Tibet than Tibet itself, and a road that actually would allow jeeps to enter have yet to be completed. Extreme remoteness combined with fees and the legal obligation to bring a liaison officer along keeps mass tourism at bay. And if Mustang seems to be too exploited there’s also the similarly alluring Dolpo region to explore to the west. A surrounding flock of 8000m peaks, all-world scenery and dahl bhat tarkari makes this one of my personal favorite targets.

Mustang gets 9 pants out of 10.

7) Ethiopia, Africa

Ethiopia. I can almost hear the guffaw and incredulous head-shakes over this one. Why would anyone want to go to that strife-torn, landlocked slab of hunger catastrophe waiting to happen? True, things may not be completely stable in some parts of this country, but a healthy dose of caution has to be one of the tools in any traveler’s toolbox. Lots of cons, so what about the pros? Well let’s see. The oldest human-like creatures ever found were discovered in these highlands, making it the cradle of humanity. In other words, it has a 3 million year history of human habitation. It has villages and towns that have very little connection to the outside world – a fellow traveler recently told me about a town in a far-flung corner where the men venture outside the walls of their city to feed a pack of hyenas every night. Remarkable? Yes even more so when you learn that they do it by approaching the murderous beasts with raw meat hanging from their mouths. The hyenas seem to go along with this, and for the most part they don’t eat the people feeding them. Yeah, I’d go there. No I wouldn’t participate in the feeding. I’m sure there’s a sign that says ‘don’t feed the animals’ somewhere. The cautious traveler knows that it’s best to heed all signs.

Travel itch factor: A steady 7 out of 10.

Salar de Uyni, Bolivia

Perhaps a romp upon the world’s largest salt flat doesn’t sound exciting or fun to you, but that could be because you haven’t seen the pictures. You may have heard of the ice hotel, well, here they have a hotel made out of salt – not because for gimmicky tourism, but because of a total lack of other building materials. Throw in a helping of sublime photo ops and yes, I can see myself traveling to this place. If this doesn’t sound convincing, perhaps coupling this with a visit to the nearby Atacama desert will help, because who wouldn’t want to check out a place where it has rained only once since 1570 (in 1971 to be exact).

This camera-friendly destination gets a solid 8 out of 10 on the seatofourpants travel itch scale (one extra point for the hundreds of nearby destinations we’re also drooling over).

(Photo: NASA)

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That place looks fake, right?

Well, fake it is not. It’s a village on the Indonesian island of Flores. We were there in late August 2009, four months into our recent round the world tour. M brought us there to climb an extinct volcano. I appeased him by huffing and puffing my way up and down Inirie, not an easy task – believe me. In exchange, we spent our recuperation day hopping around villages like the one you see above, shopping for ikat. This was the first of many little Indonesian villages we bought ikat from. In retrospect, it was by far the most memorable.

This is how ikat is sold in this part of the world. The red piece hanging second from the left was my ultimate choice but looking at the lovely work hanging there, I wonder why I didn’t buy it all.

Nineteen months later, I hold this beautiful hand-woven Indonesian Ikat in my hand in San Francisco. It has traveled across the world, shipped thousands of miles from those cute Indonesian smiles, the picturesque village and that kickass volcano. It’s been living in our lockers, waiting to be put to some use. Looking back at these photos, I kick myself that it’s been living in obscurity for so long. It deserves to be apart of our daily life.

After much deliberation, I’ve decided to make four pillows from it for the couch in our salon. It will hurt my heart to cut it up, but I can’t find another use of this lovely cloth. So cut I must.

This weekend’s project: turn our memory of Flores, Indonesia into tactile home decor (and try not to get too weepy when cutting the ikat).

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One post totally broke that mold – to today’s date it is the most viewed and commented post on this site. No, it isn’t an article we wrote for CNN Asia’s lifestyle page. Nope, not the ‘a day in London’ thing that spent 24 hours on the front page of BBC.com. It is a post about something that apparently has touched a lot of people, people who have then gone on to search out similar experiences on the net: an encounter with a fortune teller.

Apparently there exists world-wide, traveling band of fortune tellers, all of them Sikh (or claiming to be), all of them going by the nom-du-guerre of ‘Yogi Singh’ (Teacher Lion), each and all using the same mode of operations on a world-wide scale. I’ve met two of them – one in Mcleod Ganj and one in Delhi’s Connaught Place. They wore identical outfits and they approached me in the same manner. Other travelers have reported the same encounters, all over the world.

Typically, they will approach you by saying something like ‘You have a lucky face!’ or ‘This day is your lucky day!’ and give you a sunny smile and a compliment. They will then offer to tell your fortune for a very modest price.

Your incarnation of Yogi Singh will then sit down with you and write down a few notes on a paper that you can’t see. He will then go on to show his ‘powers’ by asking you a few questions: “what are your favorite flowers” and “name a number between one and five” appear to be the most popular ones.

The Oracle Himself (or one of him)

Did you pick roses as your flower? The number three? Apparently most people do. I know I did. The fortune teller will then show you a note that says ‘roses’ and the number three. Now, one could argue that he could have a ton of notes stashed in his pockets, each with flower names and numbers, but I’m not here to pass judgment on the efficacy of the Yogi Singh’s of the world. I’m just saying.

After this dazzling show, the fortune teller will ask you to write down a few other things, like the name of a woman that hurt you, an ex girlfriend, or any fact that he possibly can’t know about beforehand. You are told to roll the note up into a little ball and to hang on to it. The fortune teller will then do some mumbo jumbo, like have you count people on an old picture (“these are my masters at the special college. How many people do you see on the picture”). This is where I guess a deft stage magician could do something to switch out the notes and read them, but again – not passing judgment. Just sayin’.

To your amazement, Yogi Singh will then write down exactly what you had written in your crumpled up note, and you will very likely feel amazed beyond belief. He will also tell you a few other things, such as your life expectancy, about a curse that lies upon you and of some bad habits that have kept you from your ultimate success. This is when the pitch comes in: for a lot of money, this bona fide master of mysteries can pray for your fortune, 22 days in a row (sacrificing perfume, soap, incense and spices). His prayers would alter destiny, and success for life would presumably be mine. I think I remember him wanting 600 US dollars for this privilege. I politely declined, opting instead to donate a much more modest sum in exchange for a couple of talismans. I think I gave him three bucks for the trinkets and three for the show. It really was quite impressive. We parted as friends, and I spent days thinking about the interchange. How did he know my ex girlfriends name? Did he switch out the notes? Did he have a partner reading over my back somehow?

Whatever you think or feel about it – if you’re a victim of their exorbitant prices, or if you’re just casually stumbling upon this post – isn’t it pretty extraordinary that this brotherhood of fortune tellers exist? A secret society that follow their own rules and mysteries, traveling the globe while telling people about their supposed fates? I love it. It’s the stuff of legends, and would write a book about them if I had time. Should you be approached by one, don’t hesitate to sit down and have your fortunes told.

Just don’t give them six hundred bucks and the keys to your car.

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It’s not that I wasn’t curious about other places. I have memories as a child of standing in my parents garage, staring at a world map that hung there. Splayed across the pastel-colored continents were little red pins, marking my father’s travels. What would it be like to be in those far off places, I wondered, but just as quickly I would turn and run to our backyard to play. Why would I need to travel when all the joy and happiness I knew was found right there at home?

It’s that sort of mentality, combined with a fair deal of shyness, that kept me close to home for most of my life. If you’ve been following this blog, you know that I have a very different philosophy about travel today. So what gives? What happened between the Saturday morning, cartoon missing tantrums and taking a year off to travel the world?

A rash decision made my final year of college.

Checking out what I looked like as a study abroad student 11 years ago

Driven by a foolish desire to impress a worldly boy, I signed up to study abroad for a year. Sadly, the boy remained unimpressed but it was a decision that changed my life.

As a lifelong lover of old masters (that’s art-speak for guys that painted a long, long time ago), I chose to study in the ground zero of Renaissance Art: Florence, Italy. I shared an apartment with seven – that’s right – seven other girls, just five minutes from the Duomo, Florence’s central cathedral. The location was unreal, the roommates were amazing and the wine flowed like $2 magnum bottles should. Wine aside (sort of), the experience was a once in a lifetime slap in the face. Finally I understood what all the travel hype was about.

I came home alive, buzzing with the love of travel, thirsty for more. It took that initial step out the door – to Italy, in my case – to see what traveling is about. It’s not just a pin on a wall map (though you can be sure I’m going to have one of those in my future garage). It’s a glimpse of what else is out there: the amazing people, the awful people, the delicious food, the crazy there’s-no-way food stuffs, the foreign culture that feels just like home and the culture that opens your eyes.

Sharing the study abroad experience with me were seven amazing women – who ten years after our tear-filled good-byes, I was able to meet up with again recently in New York. Many of them are married. Some have children. All of them are just as great as I remembered them. Ladies, if it wasn’t for our time together 11 years ago, I wouldn’t have had the courage to see the world.

Thank you.

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Shrouded in mist we celebrated summiting with a photo session and lunch.

Lunch was followed by a short tour of the summit’s two craters. Though we’d opted out, many of the westerners who’d been there had written their names in rock on the crater floor. I’m usually up for a challenge, but I guess it just didn’t feel right. I don’t know – something about being near a volcano crater is a bit unnerving. Being next to it, yes fine, but in the crater? Not my thing.

I write this post because we just received word that Gunung Sinabung, the (theoretically docile and extinct) volcano is now erupting. Local residents are being evacuated, though it’s still too early to tell what is going on.

Photo: Jakarta post: Antara/Irsan Mulyadi

For now, our hearts go out to the people affected by the eruption. May life return to normal as soon as possible.

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Yikes.

Such utter lack of attention to our beloved website begs the question: why have I abandoned writing for this project? My simple answer is also a confession. Not posting anything is my one and only form of protest. We’re not traveling anymore and god dammit I’m bummed about it. There, I said it. Not writing was really all I had to use as a protest. I’m an adult so tantrums were out. I’m a relatively responsible person, so running back into the world with our little re-entry savings is out of the question, too. All that was left to do is go on with life. But I could stop writing for our travel blog! Yes, that’s the ticket. I’ll stop writing and that will make me feel better.

My return to these pages shows you how great a solution that was. The reality is this: I miss travel blogging. I miss the community of fellow travel bloggers. I miss our readers and their comments. Writing for this site was an important part of our life for over a year so why would stopping it suddenly make me feel better? It wouldn’t – it doesn’t – plain as that.

Sweating it out in Jaipur, India

No, I’m no longer struggling in an Indian internet café in 110 degree heat with 1,000% humidity, being swarmed by mosquitoes to get a few line post up. We’re not dealing with that caliber of travel, but the adventure hasn’t necessarily ended. We’re currently living in a trailer in a retirement-age mobile home park (seen in the photo above) an hour outside Yosemite National Park. We have most of next month booked for road trips. I’m working on an independent website project (more to come on that later…) No – I’d say the adventure is far from over.

Consider this post my cure. I’ve stopped my silly no-writing-protest.  In its place are plans for future blog posts here at SeatOfOurPants, updates on our twitter account and the occasional tantrum that (fortunately for you all) only Martin will have to deal with.

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My sister hated to go to school. She could come up with a million and one excuses why she shouldn’t go. Her throat tickled. She hadn’t slept well. Her stomach hurt. There were bumps in her socks (that was one of her favorites).

Just over a week ago, in New York’s Madison Square Garden, she was awarded her diploma as a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. My school-hating little sister, driven by her passion and determination has become a doctor.

Kheli – I am so proud of you. The world’s animals should count themselves fortunate to have you on their side.

P.S. Way to show up your older sister. Geez.

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Coming back, we supposed that the stomach adventure was over. Food safety standards and pasteurized products would keep us safe from Delhi belly and the Rangoon two-step. Imagine our surprise when we realized that we had a hard time digesting American restaurant food. All those processed items like fluffy white bread, sausages, cheese and god knows what they do to meat over here – almost ended up making us sick.

Thankfully, our friends have been treating us to home-cooked food, made with love and good produce. Meanwhile, I’m not sure if I want to eat a cream cheese bagel or have a Starbucks latte ever again. Funny how things work out sometimes.

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We’ve covered sixteen countries in thirteen months. Not a huge count, but nothing to be ashamed of either considering two are India and Indonesia. Those that have traveled there know just how long it takes to get from point to point. We’ve climbed a 6,000 meter peak (well Martin did, I got sick), developed and maintained a website that attracts thousands of readers every month, overcome a fear of flying (again, that one’s Martin’s), spotted rhinos and orangutangs in the wild, survived India without a single bout of Delhi belly, and helped each other through a thousand other things while still being in love and best friends.

Was it worth leaving the comforts of home? You bet your ass it was. One year, one month and one day later I feel like the luckiest girl alive.

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I wear appropriate clothing when it’s called for. I don’t swagger around clubs late at night. I don’t kiss my husband in public. In other words, I try to be very sensitive to the nuances of a foreign culture’s expectations of women. There are times however, that I have at admit absolute failure in this respect.

We arrived in Georgia a few days ago to find that almost no one speaks English. Mustering up my best picture drawing skills, I tried to explain to our hotelier where I used to live. He had heard of San Francisco and asked it it was a very big city (this was all communicated with hand motions). I whipped out my trusty notepad and pen, drawing him a brilliant diagram of the Bay Area, explaining that the city itself (circled) is quite small – just 7 x 7 miles – but the Bay itself supports a much larger population.

Feeling proud of myself for explaining a tricky thing like that, I glanced up at him. The puzzled look on his face led to a sly smile and an interested nod. Confused, I smiled and returned to our room. It was just today that I realized my mistake.

It was Martin who called my attention to it while glancing through the notebook this morning. He cried out, equally confused,”What the hell is this?”

Um…San Francisco Bay?

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