Full disclosure: I’ve had a few ounces of rum before writing this. I couldn’t really help myself; the Nicaraguan Flor de Caña is such a dangerous mix of deliciously smooth and deliciously inexpensive. After a nice long layover in Panama City — about 8 hours, just long enough for us to get out of the
And so begins the winter escape to Nicaragua… not with a bang, but with a massive yawn.
Busy, busy, busy, as the Bokononists say.
After a forty minute train ride from our lousy guesthouse in Tsim Sha Tsui, our second morning in Hong Kong, J and I boarded a bus in Tung Chung, way out on Lantau Island. Another forty-odd minutes on a bus, and we’d be at our destination: Po Lin Monastery, and the Tian Tan Buddha.
While my previous post pretty much summed up my thoughts about Shenzhen (specifically, the feeling of a lack of a distinct culture to the city), there were a couple experiences in the last two days J and I spent there that stood out for me.
Considering how unexpectedly wonderful the flight with Spring Airlines had been, in retrospect I should not be surprised that the universe would try to balance itself out, by giving me the single worst flight of my life up to this point.
Before I really get into the meat of this entry… The flight from Shenyang to Shanghai was my first brush with anything above basic economy class.
The Shenyang Metro is a whole different beast than its Beijing big brother.
So, I’ve been “hors-communication” for a while now; significantly longer than I’d hoped, in fact. There’s an unfortunate reason for that…