The First Time Traveler

In the waiting area of Madrid-Barajas airport

My trip should have ended after Barcelona. I didn’t do much walking around in Madrid for it was just too hot. And it’s impossible to fall asleep in my hostel room which faces the the Gran Via with its police sirens, sounds of bikes and sports-cars revved at the limits of their gears, shouting matches, …. All that can be heard from my 4th floor dorm room even after midnight. Alcohol is part of the cause and also the solution to that problem. I had little trouble falling asleep the night before thanks to a half-jug of Sangria I had during dinner. Now that’s one more reason to drink.

It just occurred to me that as much as I’d like to accomplish so much in my free time, I also need to give up some of my other hobbies. I’ve decided to give up amateur astronomy for the time being. Not that I’ve been spending much time on the hobby for the past year anyway. The flat I’ve moved into lacks windows with good views of the sky, unlike in my previous home. The field nearby has a good 360 degrees view of the sky, but light from the street lamps are also pretty much in view. We don’t own a car in the family, so escaping all of that is not an option. I’ll continue to keep myself informed of the latest in the field through books, magazines and the internet while my modest equipment sits in the storage indefinitely. I don’t think I’ll even sign up for weekend trips to dark sites, since I would have lost my bearings around the sky. It sounds like a shame to give up a hobby that I’ve been actively involved in for the last 15 years or so, but I guess it’s necessary if I have to invest time in another area.

I’m glad to be heading home. Madrid isn’t one of the most enjoyable place I’ve visited, and I blame the high temperatures for a large part of it.

On the overnight train from Barcelona to Madrid

I look forward to practicing on my instruments when I get home. Hopefully, I’ll get to practice with my friend who has suggested that we collaborate on some pieces he’s arranging. A week after I get home, I’ll be volunteering in an astronomy related public event that I volunteered to help out in. The weekend after that, I’ll be running in a semi-marathon. August should be fun.

The temperature in Madrid is, I suspect, at least as bad as it is in Barcelona. And I thought home was the warmest place I’ll ever be in! That’s another reason to look forward to fly back, funny as it might seem to those back home. The trip’s timing isn’t really my choosing. It was for work reasons that I had to travel to Portugal, and I was just taking the opportunity to take a detour to travel around the Iberian Peninsula. On the other hand, spending my days in Barcelona museum hopping to escape the heat isn’t the best way to experience the city, whose charming alleys are best enjoyed on foot.

There are things that I’d like to do in the longer term. I thought I’d learn the violin anyway, even with my less than ideal living arrangements and my having to juggle between learning to play two instruments. I’d like to learn a foreign language, probably French or German, too. And I’d like to move out of my parents’ home, but that would remain a dream for a while. Current housing policies intentionally makes it difficult to unmarried folks my age to buy our own properties.

I’d like to get on a weight gain regime and perhaps one day, I’ll find out more about my health condition. It’s not really bothering me that much, but still it exerts a subtle psychological effect I’d rather not live with. I’d like to break the stalemate in my family relationships, but right now I don’t see how it’s possible. To know someone whom I can trust and share my life with would be awesome, but then I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems.

Work-wise, and on the longer term, I’d like to get back into the field I’ve always loved.

As I was reading my travel guide, I realized that one of the seedy streets that the book had advised tourist to avoid is where my hostel is situated! Good luck to me!

I’m writing from a train whose AC is barely working, crossing the plains in the heat of midsummer, from Figueres in the direction of Barcelona.

I’m starting to understand why some of my peers who initially opted to study abroad returned home to completer their degrees. I know some of them, but I’ve never found the opportunity to ask them about their decisions.

Many of us who have lived abroad during our university days cope with the inevitable lifestyle changes in different ways. Some establish social circles consisting almost exclusively of peers from their home country; some will sport a new accent and befriend everybody but people from their home; some will look for a balance; and some will shut themselves out from everyone.

I didn’t find it difficult to adapt to my then new home. I didn’t think I even experienced the proverbial ‘culture-shock’ that everyone (those who haven’t lived overseas) think we would. The transition was easy for me. I was doing things that I enjoyed — things which I could not have done back home, so I didn’t have time to angst over what I’ve left at home.

As time went by, we began to hear of stories, through blogs or friends, that a few of our peers were living much less ideal lives. Their lives revolved completely around their books and notes, and they complained that they had no “true” friends amongst their foreign university mates.

Could this be a manifestation of the tourist experience? Typically, I’m more self-conscious in the first days of any holiday trips. I would be unsure with ordering food, and when I did any shopping, I would be worried that I would exasperate the cashier or waiter with my inability to converse in the local language. Sometimes, I would skip meals out of that self-consciousness. I was worried how I didn’t have any chances to explain myself because I spoke a different language and that I would put a bad name to tourists of my ilk.

Were my peers experiencing similar feelings, never mind that they were all studying in English speaking countries?

That phase is history for many of us. Most of us made it through and did well, somehow. A few had to make the unfortunate decision of moving back home halfway through their studies. Through diverse experiences and circumstances, we got our degrees, and have many stories to tell. I haven’t heard from most of my friends who went abroad like I did. I am sure, however, that it goes without saying for many of us, that those years were the best years of our lives.

Lisbon, Portugal

I comparison to my visits to other countries, I don’t find my experiences here in Portugal overwhelmingly pleasant, nor utterly intolerable.

There were two positive incidents today. The first was when I was at Torres de Belem and the family of three that was ahead of me in the line for the admission ticket — father, mother and daughter — tried use a tourist discount coupon they bought. It looked like they had a coupon extra, so they beckoned me to hand it over to the staff at the counter as I was about to buy my ticket.

I realized that I got more change than should be given — 40 euro cents more to be exact. I think I looked rather bewildered when I stood fixed to the ground wondering why I ended up paying less than what I had expected to pay. While I was counting my change and deciphering the words on my receipt, they mother and daughter walked over and tried to explain the price on my admission ticket, in what sounded like either Portuguese, Spanish or Italian. I smiled back in a puzzled way which made the daughter rather amused. It took me a while to realize that I was given a discount card. Regretfully, I didn’t realize it fast enough to bid them ‘obrigado!’.

The second incident was when a Scarlett Johanssen look-alike girl cautioned me about pickpockets when I got onto tram #28 at Martim Moniz. She first asked in English if I spoke any Portuguese. When I said I didn’t, she advised me to take care of my wallet, and then pointed to somethings outside the window which I didn’t catch. Later on, she pointed out directions to a group of middle-aged ladies who seem unsure where they should stop. How helpful! I wished I had said something more than just a “yeah”. I must have looked no better than someone who only knew enough English to order food.

I had good roommates in Porto. It’s enriching when travelers around the world open up to learn about each other’s cultures. I didn’t have the same luck in Lisbon though. Housekeeping-wise, the hostel I stayed in was the best of all I’ve been to in Europe. I thought it looked like a posh hairdressing salon when I first showed up at the reception to check in! The furnishing looked new-age, the bathrooms were comparable to those in better hotels and the internet was free. One girl I met — she had been traveling for a while — said we were totally spoilt for the price we’re paying. The hostel, however, also had a ’social’ vibe which made one feel like a recluse if he didn’t talk to at least 10 different people. Noise from the bar on the downstairs can continue into hours in the morning.

I wonder how liberal attitudes are on nakedness in different parts of the world. When I returned to the Lisbon hostel in at about midnight on my first night there, my new roommate was in the dorm room in her bra and underpants with the door ajar. I don’t imagine that could happen in Asian countries! I apologized under my breath and went downstairs to get my internet booking done. Did I genuinely feel offended? I don’t think so, but if I did, it is only because the culture which I grew up in has taught me to take offence when put in the same situation.

Once again, I remind myself to take initiative in social situations. But I feel too tired and I long too much for my usual distractions back home. Well, what’s new?

I hope things will change for the better for the rest of my journey! I intentionally booked a hostel in Barcelona that didn’t advertise based on it’s hippiness or social vibrancy. I want to sleep in peace, and not have to put up with police sirens, sounds from broken glasses and fights at 3am in the morning.

Escapism is the unwillingness to come to terms with reality. Can genuine dislike be a form of escapism?

Aliados station, Porto, Portugal

I woke up early this morning to the accommodation disaster that every traveler fears — the symphony of snores. It’s odd that snorers don’t get woken up by themselves.

I had this idea of traveling for 2 or 3 months straight on unpaid leave, but I doubt such a request would be approved. The company has no obligation to reserve my position for those few months of my absence. On the other hand, I’m not quite a regular employee since I have to work for them for the next 4 years or so. That changes things a bit.

I could do it in between lab changes. That is, quit my current lab, travel, then go on to my new lab.

The conference organizers should confirm the presenters’ attendance. A lot of the authors weren’t keen on presenting at the conference. In most of the sessions I’ve attended, at least one (most of the time it’s two) out of the three or four papers scheduled to be presented are skipped over because their authors were absent. Perhaps there is little incentive to present because the conference is not one of the more prestigious one?

I still can’t get over my recent obsession to play on my instruments. I’m going to bring my erhu along the next time I travel, but that’s only if I’m good enough to play something decent impromptu. For now, it’s a few cities between me and home. The awesome experience of the recent concert hasn’t subsided.

I spent about two weeks in Portugal and Spain.  The trip began as a work trip to Portugal, but I later decided to take a detour to other cities in the Iberian Peninsula before heading home.