a blog by Julia Escano
Just like Japan, and most other developed countries, I love how South Korea could straddle both their history and their progress while letting both sides of their identity shine. During my visit, I was able to see many chapters of their story as well as the different personalities they took on over time.
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By the time we arrived in Myeongdong, where we stayed for the duration of the trip, it was early evening. The sun had been gone for hours, and the breeze still a constant. After five steps from the station, I wanted out.
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It was too short. That sums up my visit of Kyoto. Bad weather on top of tight viewing schedules and complicated bus transfers resulted in only a few hours in the city. Thus we missed the Fushimi Inari Shrine, the long stretch of beautiful, red torii gates, and the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove – two of Kyoto’s…
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A gust of wind hit my face like a sharp slap as I stepped out of the warmth of New Osaka Hotel. The morning was blustery, almost 0 degrees C, a true winter morning. We marched to the Shin-Osaka Station across the street, gloved hands in pockets and heads bowed against the cold.
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Eighteen months. That’s how long it’s been since these photos were taken. Too long ago, to be honest. I’d much rather be back here now, staring out the Shinkansen window at the blazing countryside, seeing the face Japan takes for late Spring.
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Four AM. The world was sound asleep. It was pitch black beyond the lone bulb on my room’s terrace. I sat beneath the light, my bags packed, waiting for the driver to take me back to the Bali International Airport, about two hours away. The epic journey, Indochina 2014, was about to end.
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There were tiny knots in my stomach as I watched Bali’s landscape morph from the concrete blocks of the urban jungle into green pastures and rice fields of the countryside. With every corner we turned I felt the ropes of comfort thin out and stretch, getting ready to snap at any moment.
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In keeping with our trip’s theme of painful country transfers, our way from Myanmar to Indonesia was a long and dragging affair. It wasn’t without its highlights though. It started with the best bus ride of my life.
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There was something cinematic about the clunking of hooves against pavement as the horse drew our cart across Old Bagan. Dawn was coming, and across the indigo sky the sun slowly stretched its rays in streaks of pink and orange. We were still laughing hysterically at the turn of events right after we got off…
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Fantastical and exotic images filled my mind as our plane descended onto the runway at Yangon International Airport. Myanmar was my most anticipated destination in our trip because it seemed so far removed and untouched. Having just “reopened” to the rest of the world several years back,
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Life as a Tumbleweed 