Joachim's Travel Blog
Thursday, October 23, 2003
We had our first snow in Waltham, Massachusetts today. It didn't stick, though. I hope the weather in Europe won't be miserable when I go there. I'm trying to avoid packing too much warm clothing since I'm going to end up in India, where it should be pretty warm, even in the North. I'm not planning on spending much time up in the mountains. Plus, in India I can buy clothes cheap, which is not the case in Italy. I'll keep my fingers crossed.
I also got my final vaccinations today. I am now proof against all disease, more or less, and can take on the Southeast Asian jungles fearlessly.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
My travel adventures have already begun. Last Tuesday I put up $10, jumped on the Fung Wah bus, and headed to New York City. My friend Verena and I went to get our Indian visas. We stayed with a friend of hers there. I got my visa but since she forgot her passport, she didn't get hers! Oh well. We had a pretty good time hanging around museums and such while we let the gears of bureaucracy grind. We also hung out a bit in Chinatown and munched on some jellyfish there. Kinda bland, but not bad with hot sauce.
When all that was done, I said goodbye to Verena, retrieved my passport, and marched over to Penn Station. I'll admit, carrying that big pack the whole day was pretty annoying. I'll have to try to find ways to avoid doing that while I'm on my trip. In any event, I plunked down $57 and hopped on the next train to our nation's fair capital. Three and a half hours later, I was checking in to the Hostelling International hostel there and, after a brief adventure in bunk bed assembly, I was peacefully asleep.
In the morning I had a little breakfast and some enjoyable conversation with an old fellow named William, apparently a cult member from the Ananda society of self actualization. Very pleasant fellow, though. He gave me a rock, citing the deep spiritual principle that "everybody needs a rock". Actually, whatever spiritual power he might ascribe to stones, his brother is a stone polisher by hobby and he had some nice ones. His belt buckle was a large polished stone in a metal setting and when I mentioned that it reminded me of New Mexico jewelry, he began reminiscing about time he had spent in that spiritual center of rock polishing.
I stashed my enormous bag in an even more enormous locker in the basement for four dollars. Carrying only my small day-pack, I proceeded to walk the quick ten or twelve blocks from the hostel to the Vietnamese embassy. The two quiet men there (the Indian embassy, like the Registry of Motor Vehicles it resembled, was staffed by harried-looking overweight women) took care of my request to repair the incorrect dates on the visa with dispatch, and I was once again on my way.
It took a few moments to locate a taxi but I got a talkative driver who explained the modus operandi of the city's street names during the fairly lenthy trip on 16 street to Allison, where the Cambodian embassy is located. Allison, being a three-syllable street name beginning with A, is roughly 76th street northwest. The Embassy of the Kindgom of Cambodia is located in the suburbs. I spoke with the lady at the desk and realized that while I had had everything in order for the other two visas, for this one I was surprisingly unprepared. I didn't have the glue I had been using to attach my photo to the application, I didn't know what the fee was, I wasn't prepared for them not to be able to process the application the same day and I didn't have my checkbook. The $20 fee for entry into the Kingdom cannot be paid in cash.
The map the hostel had given me conveniently depicted the locations of post offices and I struck out for the nearest, some ten blocks away. Although the post office was in a slightly dilapidated neighborhood, the clerk was reasonably efficient and provided me with my money order and self-addressed express mail envelope. I returned to the embassy and supplied these to the clerk there and then located myself at the local bus stop and waited for transport back into the city.
When the bus arrived I discovered I had no change. I was regurgitated onto the sidewalk a block later and began walking, again. Since I had a map I felt no anxiety about reaching my destination, but I was starting to get sick of walking. After half an hour or so I reached an area civilized enough to support a Salvadoran restaurant, where I lunched on "carne desilachada" and got to pit my non-existent Spanish against the non-existent English of the staff and patrons of the shop. With the change I received from my purchase, I was able to catch a bus and return to the center of town.
The remainder of my day was spent enjoying the Mall, Monument and Lincoln Memorial (all of which involved a great deal more walking), and then exploring the Metro on my way back to the hostel and, finally, to the airport. That would be Reagan airport, the appealing proximity of which almost certainly contributed to the $385 ticket price for a shuttle back to Boston.
Back in town, I managed to watch the Sox throw away a lead and fail to make it to the World Series yet again before I climbed wearily into bed. A few days later, my passport, fully envisaed, arrived in the mail. Since I have that and the tickets in hand, my travel is now assured and all that remains is to take care of the many loose ends here at home.
