My formative years were highly contaminated by 90210. I grew up wishing I could have Brenda’s bangs and boyfriend. My perception of California is basically 90210. Here’s the reality: western store front filled tourist towns heavy on subarus and big trucks, barbeque, and subarus.
I’ve learned that dirtbagging is easier and much cheaper than I ever imagined; roughly $10 per day. My life now consists of eat, sleep, climb. Order is restored. I’ve been to Red Rocks and Bishop, and I’m now dodging dodgy park rangers in Yosemite.
Money. It’s probably the most common topic for questions about my trip. “How much did it cost?” “How do you budget for a trip like that?” “Didn’t you work at all!?” The third question is the easiest, nope. Nada.
I did spend two weeks volunteering at an English Corner in Yangshuo in exchange for free lodging. I had to volunteer two hours per week to chat with some local Chinese students, and I was given free beer. I don’t count that as work! The truth is, Asia is cheap. Unbelievably cheap.
I kept a daily budget for the first 11 months of my trip. Every single day I made a record of every baht, rupee, yuan, etc. spent. I also kept track of all ATM withdrawals. I do the same in Canada, so this wasn’t difficult for me. My initial budget was to spend 1,000 CAD per month. Japan was the only exception; I budgeted $70 per day. Japan was my first country, and I didn’t yet have the need or know how to be a dirty, budget backpacker. Here’s how the budget worked out in Canadian dollars per day:
- Japan $67 (1 month)
- Thailand North $44 (1 month)
- Laos $36 (6 wks)
- Thailand South $42 (2 months)
- Malaysia $36 (13 days) & $38 (6 days)
- Singapore $55 (2 days)
- Indonesia $24 (1 month)
- China $20 (4 months)
- Hong Kong $89 (3 days)
- Nepal $25 (32 days)
- India $15 (55 + 72 days)
- Slovenia $20 (6 weeks)
- England $15 (5 days)
- Trinidad $0 (3 weeks)
Disclaimers: I’m extremely grateful to my family for making the England and Trinidad portions of my trip possible. The budget includes things I paid cash for, like diving lessons and visas, but generally doesn’t include the things I charged, ie. flights and travel insurance. Hong Kong is expensive, but not that expensive; the price was inflated by my train back to Beijing and a new Chinese visa. The start of my trip cost more, partly because those places were more expensive. The bigger reason is that as time went on I lowered my accommodation standards and lost interest in the expensive things, like shopping and tours.
There it is…how to go from cashed up to cashed out is 18 glorious months.
After some time destressing at home, I realized (for the second time) that I have a friend driving a van around the US hitting up various crags. I feel a bit like the apes in 2001: A Space Odyssey. How could I not have thought of this before? That white van is my big, black monolith. With a tiny budget and a continuing status of happily unemployed, the US trip is rebooked. Coming up: Bishop, Yosemite, and Smith Rock. Drool inspiring trip reports and photos to follow.
note: edited to make the internet a more family friendly place
Posted in Climbing, US
The solution to all life’s problems can be found in a metallic shoe, a pencil skirt, and an empire waist. At least that’s what five hours of back to back What Not to Wear has told me. I’m pretty okay with my current wardrobe; it consists of what I’ve been carrying around for the last 18 months and a few random things left at my parents. The rest is happily lounging in unlabelled cardboard boxes in Edmonton. Now that I’m in Canada, we are soon to be reunited.
When I got back to Canada I felt like I had to compensate immediately for the last 18 months of contentment by being super-industrious. JOB HUNTING. STORAGE UNSTORING. APARTMENT FINDING. GO ON NEXT TRIP. I booked a ticket to go climbing in the US, then canceled it. I variously decided to become a full time travel writer, an ESL teacher in China, and a Phd student. Phew. At least when I do something, ie. panic, I really do it all the way. Realizing that I was being INSANE, I decided to stay in the house, go for the occasional run, and just try to breathe a little. Plus I sent out SOS messages to good friends that were tolerant enough or bored enough to encourage me. Now?
Right now my life feels a lot like my wardrobe. After an initially rough two weeks of back to Canada nervous breakdown, I have what I’ve always had: the necessities. The rest is just quietly waiting to be needed. I get a good feeling that I will find a job when I need one. That I will find a place to live. My parents are quite graciously allowing me to spin in ever smaller circles inside their house. I’m rethinking that trip to the States; bouldering! Most importantly, I’m pretty sure that there’s a metallic shoe, a pencil skirt, and an empire waist inside one of those boxes.
My first few days in Canada can be described as such:
manic energy with thoughts of what i can do, when i can leave, where i can live all wrapped up with the excitement of no strings attached and the promise of a new start, followed by equally manic bouts of repetitious thoughts of all my stuff is stored in edmonton, i don’t know anyone here, i forget how to drive, i don’t have a job, impending doom!
There is some relief in finally being here. Ever since I booked my ticket out of India my brain started to turn to the future in a way it hadn’t done in over a year. Suddenly it seemed that simply existing from day to day wasn’t viable anymore. It’s frustrating, because in the end that really is all that a person wants. If you ignore everything else, you just want to exist happily, and it doesn’t take much. Unfortunately, that little voice of complete contentment is drowned out in Canada by the constant pressure to do something more. Lucky for me, this is my second arrival.
Last time I came back from Asia I made the mistake of trying to force myself back into the same thing I had left. I tried to pretend that I had squashed the pesky travel bug, scratched my itchy feet, and was ready to ‘settle down’. If it were true, that would certainly make life easier! This time, I’m not allowing that. I can’t waste any more time in my life trying to fit into a mold that just doesn’t fit. It’s so much harder when you don’t fit the mold, but now that I’ve had 1.5 years of full happiness, there’s just no alternative.
Deep thoughts aside, there are some amazing things about going home:
- Knowing how to dial the telephone and what each of those seven numbers are for
- Instant recognition of currency
- Kraft dinner
- It’s got clams and tomatoes, it’s clamato juice!
- Kraft dinner. Really.
- People are nice here, and I understand the social norms.
- An abundance of western men
- There’s French on everything. Even the DVD’s.
Also, you can always leave again.
I think I’m the only person on the planet who doesn’t like Nepal. I don’t like trekking, I don’t like tourist food, and I feel uncomfortable around loads of tourists with money and trekking poles. I arrived in Kathmandu at 2 am after a terrible journey from Varanasi, and that set the tone for the rest of the trip. I spent 9 days in Kathmandu – roughly equivalent to an eternity in hell.
When we finally got out of Kathmandu and walked to Namche, we found the prices were disgustingly high. 300 rs for dhal bhat. WTF!? Then it got better. Rocktoberfest 2009 started. My first bouldering expedition. After setting up camp in the Zarok area 200m above Namche, we proceeded to clean the dirtiest, sharpest boulders I’ve ever seen. We spent three weeks surrounded by beautiful mountains away from the tourist mele.
As always, when feeling lazy, here comes the bulleted list of events:
- lots of flappers
- a missing expedition member
- a barking dog attack
- crows ate our food
- a horse stalked our campsite
Now I’m back in Kathmandu and relieved to again be in the warmth. Pollution cough is sure to start again soon, along with eye infections. India, here I come!!