Smile and look pretty

Cambodia, anyone? We landed in Siem Reap today. Into the airport, you join a line for entry visa processing. Handing over your application, photos and money, the gentlemen behind the counter check the info, place your money in a briefcase and slide you down to the end of the counter.

I opted to write in a journal for a few minutes, leaning on the counter. Not wise. One of the officials approached me, leaned over to look at what I was writing and then called out something to another official. Oh, crap. Logging your observations of the visa procedure and processing? Wait until you've actually been granted the visa and aren't under the watch and scrutiny of officials. Sometimes, I'm just an idiot. Have I mentioned that lately? I wrote for ten more seconds, then packed up my notebook and pen. I make this joke from time to time that all my mother told me growing up was, "Just smile and look pretty." That anything in life will swing in your favor if you follow that saying. Not sure it works in Cambodia. I may be headed back to Singapore yet again, and sooner than I had expected.

Vietnamese Visa

To leave where you're from is to know the beauty of this earth. I have seen five continents in 32 years, and am hoping for all seven by 34. The majors still elude me: China, Russia and India untouched. But there is hope.

I dropped off my passport today at the Vietnamese Embassy. A tourist visa must be arranged prior to entry and takes a business week, or two days on rush and $70. The application filled out twice and two passport photos supplied, I hope it works! Winding down my last month traveling, I am shooting to visit three more countries. Wish me luck!

Out and back

Cruising high above the outback, it's fitting that roads writhe and wriggle through the red dirt like snakes. Clouds are the only shade offered in puffs and spots. Sometimes the roads or perhaps dried riverbeds crisscross one another. It looks like a plate of spaghetti, sauceless.

I made it out of Sydney. The customs official could tell my anticipation and played with me more than I'd wished. He prattled on about places I should have visited, and more places, and more places. "God's own country and you only spent a week?" he asked. "I'm no God," I replied and smiled. "But more saint than sinner." Phew. He believed me. Stamp's on! I do look forward to returning to Australia. There's so much more to see. But for now, that'll have to do.

Back in Singapore, at Changi, you are greeted with thermal monitors, scanning all passengers for heightened body temperature. Epidemics having devastated countries in this part of the world, they take serious security measure to prevent further issues. H1N1 has impacted life here, too, despite no cases having been found here yet.

Thanks

It's a rainy Sunday. And Mother's Day. It's strange and admittedly a bit heart-wrenching to be walking around Manly alone watching families gather. Everyone is all dressed up, drinking and laughing. It makes me miss my own clan.

For dinner on Sundays, Alex and his cousin have a ritual of Mexican. Worlds away, why not? Let's see how the Aussies do Mexican. And in the joint, turns out there isn't a single Australian working. Even funnier, relays the Italian at the register, this is the only day that no one of Spanish origin is working either. Tacos at the hands of a Romanian turned out just fine. In the spirit of my girl Keri, throw anything in a corn tortilla, and I'll love it!

My last night in Manly, Alex and I cruised to the Shore Bar again. This time the fellas were from Calgary and loved my hair. One had on a Guns 'n Roses tee shirt. First a skeeze-ball, now a Canadian? Knock 'em dead, Anne. We left and wound down the night with a few more beers. Nothing major, a chill goodbye to the beach.

I have to say a quick thanks to Alex. He made my trip to Manly educational, varied and exciting. I saw a side of Manly I never would have without his openness to show the random American girl around. Traveling normally spurs a desire to share, but I was surprised to meet someone in his every day life with that same capacity. The first day of the tour, the only word I said to him was thanks. And I said it a bunch. And rightfully so, it should live on as the last to him to. "Thanks!"

And happy mom's day, Mom! Love you.

Thirties

This morning, I strolled along a boardwalk from Mark's to the Manly Wharf. They put on a market every Saturday, I'm guessing. I gave Alex, my impromptu personal Manly guide, a ring and we headed out for the day on another tour of northern beaches. He showed me his former apartment in Dee Why, Palm Beach--apparently, the rich people beach, among many other neighborhoods and beaches. He brought his dog along for the ride, too, which was fun. The pup's small but named Zeus. This kid is Greek (technically, half-Greek, sorry, Alex), so go figure.

Now here's where the real fun begins. Apparently, Americans are, well, dumb. Oh, and clueless. That's Alex's impression, at any rate, of people from the US of A. Who knew? We are rumored to believe that kangaroos and koalas live in people's backyards here. Hmm. I'd never even considered that. And then there's the accent thing. I've gotten mocked and laughed at a bit, our slang and vernacular so different from Australian. All in good fun. At certain moments, though, I hope I changed the guy's opinion. The words I use and the way I speak is odd, as it is, I fear for even my closest of friends in the States. For the first time, I wished I'd had my own personal dictionary. Anne-to-English, English-to-Anne.

We talked about our lives, too, and the cities we live in. City culture seems to hinge on the notion that everything is more important. Work, deadlines, appointments, it's all more important than life. Than living. Sitting at the lookout point of a national park and wildlife reserve with Alex and Zeus, staring into the distance of the sea, the water and sky hardly seem separate. Nothing is separate, nothing different from any other thing. Alex says, "As long you can take at least 30 minutes out of your day to enjoy life and appreciate, you'll be fine." Funny. That's exactly what I'm doing. I just have to be sure to take it with me wherever in this life I find myself.

To the Shore Club back on the main drag for the evening, we were Anne, Alex and Anna. Dancing into the evening, we had fun. Anna attracted a guy 10 years her junior. The joys of being in your 30s! I fended off the affections of a scary, much older version. "You're so foxy," in his best Australian accent, was the lead-in line. How could I not laugh? Here's to me, meeting totally random strangers who turn out to be lovely and wonderful people.

And here's to Laurent! She's thirty-something today. Happy birthday, girl!

Touring

To the Argyle on Sydney Harbour last night for drinks, I met up with Ellen and Mark, two fellow travelers with whom I'd spent time touring South America. Both are headed out again themselves, Mark to France, Ellen back to South America. And Mark offered to let me crash at his place in Manly.

I walked into the bar with my pack and flip-flops. Not cool. The doorman, however, let me into a side room for a bag drop-off and quick change. Excellent. Fashion and presentation are important here. Thankfully, I did bring one dress. Oh, and a pair of heels.

After a few rounds, we headed to Manly. There we went for drinks, and more drinks. And this morning, rather afternoon, I woke up curled up on the floor with a cat. At the house of one of Mark's friends. It's not as bad as it sounds. Really.

Enter Alex. He slept on the sofa a couple of feet away from me and offered me a ride back into town. Score. That ride turned into brunch and beers. And then a tour. We explored the northern beaches, up into the cliffs looking out onto the water. I didn't take any pictures. Sometimes, although rarely, I prefer the moment to live only in my mind. Some memories, experiences I think you just prefer to keep to yourself.

My whole first day spent seeing the beaches of Sydney, Alex shared his country with me. He even let me drive! Now, I have wrecked my share of cars, driving like a loon. But when the gear shift and steering column are on the wrong side of the car? I turned into a grandma. And he, a tough guy, let me know.

We spent the evening at a bar on the main strip overlooking the ocean. One of Alex's buddies lives upstairs, so several people relaxed and enjoyed up there. Mesmerized. I watched the water and the night. I am thankful. A chance meeting with a kind stranger and I've seen a lot.

Manly, baby

Manly. Yes, I'm in Manly, Australia.

Let's just hope it lives up to its name! Tee, hee!