Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 322

Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Cartoon Cats Neck & Cervical Pillows

The SUN ( best selling newspaper in the UK ) “it’s simple, it’s brilliant, and it works!”

The INDEPENDENT “this comfy pillow….provides support for the neck and chin, as well as cushioning for the side and back of the head.”

USA TODAY “The curvy part of the “J” curls under your chin, cradling and supporting your neck and chin, preventing you from snapping awake”

DAILY MAIL “A product that would make those red-eye flights more comfortable”

VIRGIN ATLANTIC “With the J-Pillow , your chin, neck,back of head and side of head are all comfortably supported”

LA TIMES “On a recent flight, it kept me from bonking my head on the plane window; when I switched to the right side, it kept me from becoming too familiar with my neighbor.”

EKSTRA BLADET (Danish best selling newspaper) “Here is a travel pillow that actually works”

VELVETSCAPE.COM “On my first flight with the J-Pillow, I slept for seven hours straight without waking up once! That was a whole new experience for me!”

MYTRAVELSITE.COM “It works! It’s definitely more comfortable than a standard pillow”

QUITEWANDERINGS.COM “The design of the J-Pillow is sheer genius for the simple fact that it supports your neck, it supports your head and it supports your chin. …Your chin!! Genius.”

ALLABOUTYOU.COM “Designed by a flight attendant, this travel innovation will sort all your napping needs. Its special chin rest ensures your head won’t jolt forward mid-snooze! What more could you ask for?”

NOTWITHOUTYOURPASSPORT.COM “The J-Pillow is the most comfortable travel pillow I’ve rested my head on.

UNIQUE PATENTED design and winner of the British Invention of the Year 2013

STOPS HEAD FROM FALLING FORWARD while sleeping with ingenious chin support, while at the same time supporting your head and neck in the perfect position from the side. It’s like lying down while you’re sitting up!

REALLY HELPS you to get uninterrupted sleep when TRAVELLING long haul, or in the car, or on train or coach journeys

ALSO GREAT FOR USE at HOME when relaxing on the sofa or in bed. Or if you have to sleep upright in bed for medical reasons or post operation

EASY TO CARRY, this super soft plush pillow folds down smaller than an average “U” shaped pillow, it can be squeezed in the smallest of spaces or it can be clipped onto hand luggage with the handy snap-loop fastener.

The post Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Cartoon Cats Neck & Cervical Pillows appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Good Day Neck & Cervical Pillows

The SUN ( best selling newspaper in the UK ) “it’s simple, it’s brilliant, and it works!”

The INDEPENDENT “this comfy pillow….provides support for the neck and chin, as well as cushioning for the side and back of the head.”

USA TODAY “The curvy part of the “J” curls under your chin, cradling and supporting your neck and chin, preventing you from snapping awake”

DAILY MAIL “A product that would make those red-eye flights more comfortable”

VIRGIN ATLANTIC “With the J-Pillow , your chin, neck,back of head and side of head are all comfortably supported”

LA TIMES “On a recent flight, it kept me from bonking my head on the plane window; when I switched to the right side, it kept me from becoming too familiar with my neighbor.”

EKSTRA BLADET (Danish best selling newspaper) “Here is a travel pillow that actually works”

VELVETSCAPE.COM “On my first flight with the J-Pillow, I slept for seven hours straight without waking up once! That was a whole new experience for me!”

MYTRAVELSITE.COM “It works! It’s definitely more comfortable than a standard pillow”

QUITEWANDERINGS.COM “The design of the J-Pillow is sheer genius for the simple fact that it supports your neck, it supports your head and it supports your chin. …Your chin!! Genius.”

ALLABOUTYOU.COM “Designed by a flight attendant, this travel innovation will sort all your napping needs. Its special chin rest ensures your head won’t jolt forward mid-snooze! What more could you ask for?”

NOTWITHOUTYOURPASSPORT.COM “The J-Pillow is the most comfortable travel pillow I’ve rested my head on.

UNIQUE PATENTED design and winner of the British Invention of the Year 2013

STOPS HEAD FROM FALLING FORWARD while sleeping with ingenious chin support, while at the same time supporting your head and neck in the perfect position from the side. It’s like lying down while you’re sitting up!

REALLY HELPS you to get uninterrupted sleep when TRAVELLING long haul, or in the car, or on train or coach journeys

ALSO GREAT FOR USE at HOME when relaxing on the sofa or in bed. Or if you have to sleep upright in bed for medical reasons or post operation

EASY TO CARRY, this super soft plush pillow folds down smaller than an average “U” shaped pillow, it can be squeezed in the smallest of spaces or it can be clipped onto hand luggage with the handy snap-loop fastener.

The post Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Good Day Neck & Cervical Pillows appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Purple Flower Neck & Cervical Pillows

The SUN ( best selling newspaper in the UK ) “it’s simple, it’s brilliant, and it works!”

The INDEPENDENT “this comfy pillow….provides support for the neck and chin, as well as cushioning for the side and back of the head.”

USA TODAY “The curvy part of the “J” curls under your chin, cradling and supporting your neck and chin, preventing you from snapping awake”

DAILY MAIL “A product that would make those red-eye flights more comfortable”

VIRGIN ATLANTIC “With the J-Pillow , your chin, neck,back of head and side of head are all comfortably supported”

LA TIMES “On a recent flight, it kept me from bonking my head on the plane window; when I switched to the right side, it kept me from becoming too familiar with my neighbor.”

EKSTRA BLADET (Danish best selling newspaper) “Here is a travel pillow that actually works”

VELVETSCAPE.COM “On my first flight with the J-Pillow, I slept for seven hours straight without waking up once! That was a whole new experience for me!”

MYTRAVELSITE.COM “It works! It’s definitely more comfortable than a standard pillow”

QUITEWANDERINGS.COM “The design of the J-Pillow is sheer genius for the simple fact that it supports your neck, it supports your head and it supports your chin. …Your chin!! Genius.”

ALLABOUTYOU.COM “Designed by a flight attendant, this travel innovation will sort all your napping needs. Its special chin rest ensures your head won’t jolt forward mid-snooze! What more could you ask for?”

NOTWITHOUTYOURPASSPORT.COM “The J-Pillow is the most comfortable travel pillow I’ve rested my head on.

UNIQUE PATENTED design and winner of the British Invention of the Year 2013

STOPS HEAD FROM FALLING FORWARD while sleeping with ingenious chin support, while at the same time supporting your head and neck in the perfect position from the side. It’s like lying down while you’re sitting up!

REALLY HELPS you to get uninterrupted sleep when TRAVELLING long haul, or in the car, or on train or coach journeys

ALSO GREAT FOR USE at HOME when relaxing on the sofa or in bed. Or if you have to sleep upright in bed for medical reasons or post operation

EASY TO CARRY, this super soft plush pillow folds down smaller than an average “U” shaped pillow, it can be squeezed in the smallest of spaces or it can be clipped onto hand luggage with the handy snap-loop fastener.

The post Bedding U-Shaped Memory Foam Travel Neck Pillow with Soft Velvet Cloth Zipper Cover Purple Flower Neck & Cervical Pillows appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

J Pillow – Travel Pillow – Winner of British Invention of the Year 2013

The SUN ( best selling newspaper in the UK ) “it’s simple, it’s brilliant, and it works!”

The INDEPENDENT “this comfy pillow….provides support for the neck and chin, as well as cushioning for the side and back of the head.”

USA TODAY “The curvy part of the “J” curls under your chin, cradling and supporting your neck and chin, preventing you from snapping awake”

DAILY MAIL “A product that would make those red-eye flights more comfortable”

VIRGIN ATLANTIC “With the J-Pillow , your chin, neck,back of head and side of head are all comfortably supported”

LA TIMES “On a recent flight, it kept me from bonking my head on the plane window; when I switched to the right side, it kept me from becoming too familiar with my neighbor.”

EKSTRA BLADET (Danish best selling newspaper) “Here is a travel pillow that actually works”

VELVETSCAPE.COM “On my first flight with the J-Pillow, I slept for seven hours straight without waking up once! That was a whole new experience for me!”

MYTRAVELSITE.COM “It works! It’s definitely more comfortable than a standard pillow”

QUITEWANDERINGS.COM “The design of the J-Pillow is sheer genius for the simple fact that it supports your neck, it supports your head and it supports your chin. …Your chin!! Genius.”

ALLABOUTYOU.COM “Designed by a flight attendant, this travel innovation will sort all your napping needs. Its special chin rest ensures your head won’t jolt forward mid-snooze! What more could you ask for?”

NOTWITHOUTYOURPASSPORT.COM “The J-Pillow is the most comfortable travel pillow I’ve rested my head on.

UNIQUE PATENTED design and winner of the British Invention of the Year 2013

STOPS HEAD FROM FALLING FORWARD while sleeping with ingenious chin support, while at the same time supporting your head and neck in the perfect position from the side. It’s like lying down while you’re sitting up!

REALLY HELPS you to get uninterrupted sleep when TRAVELLING long haul, or in the car, or on train or coach journeys

ALSO GREAT FOR USE at HOME when relaxing on the sofa or in bed. Or if you have to sleep upright in bed for medical reasons or post operation

EASY TO CARRY, this super soft plush pillow folds down smaller than an average “U” shaped pillow, it can be squeezed in the smallest of spaces or it can be clipped onto hand luggage with the handy snap-loop fastener.

The post J Pillow – Travel Pillow – Winner of British Invention of the Year 2013 appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

England: Inspiration on the Jurassic Coast

 

England: Inspiration and Bravery Found Running the Jurassic Coast

            I sit, exhausted, on the coarse burred covered heather oblivious to the prickles and thorns biting into my trembling tired legs. Elation overtakes my exhaustion, “I did it Les, I conquered it, I told you I would” I yell out in triumph to no-one in particular. My words carry across Bournemouth’s cliff top and waft in the cool wind. I look towards a sheltered thicket which Bournemouth’s West-Cliff are is known for and where my brother use to sit in his wheelchair and sighed. The town of Bournemouth with its jagged cliffs is part of England’s 95 miles of Jurassic Coast and runs along England’s south west coastline. It is the first natural World Heritage Site in England and is particularly beautiful. My brother and I had been lucky enough to spend our carefree childhood years living here in the county of Dorset in idyllic Southern England, playing amongst Bournemouth’s famous Chines. Our weekends were spent hunting for million of years old fossils, clambering over oddly shaped rock formations, and pretending we were the long ago bootleggers who landed their illegal contraband on deserted beaches in the dark of night.

 

            My eyes drift down towards the beach and the 145 foot incline zig-zag path I had just run up. The Atlantic ocean which feeds the English Channel was causing Bournemouth’s sea to heave violently this morning, and the waves pummeled against the aging Victorian brick promenade. Quaint brightly painted little beach huts, over a hundred years old, stood poised and sturdy with their doors rattling against the wind. “I did it Les” I said this time mumbling to myself, tears suddenly welling up and rolling over my cheeks.  Only a few months earlier my brother had poked fun at my remorseful temperament during one of our conversations.

 

“Go on, do it, be brave, look around at where we live Sylv, open your eyes to the beauty which surrounds us here. I challenge you to start to run again, run from Poole to Bournemouth and take in the allurement of Branksome, Alum, and Durley Chine. That’ll be about eight miles of hilly terrain. Conquer that dreaded zig-zag path from West Undercliff promenade to the top of the cliff, bet you can’t” he said. It was a challenge easier said than done for me to complete after my recent amputation. “Run again? I’m not sure really” I said. With a knowing look and brightness in his eyes he stares at me, “Yes, run again Sylv, focus on what’s around you, don’t think of the pain you feel, find your inspiration in what you see, remember and picture the D-Day boats departing from Poole and what the soldiers must have been thinking when leaving-many never to return. Follow the trail of the illegal smugglers through the heathlands, and run through Bournemouth’s famous Victorian Gardens, and Alum Chine’s Tropical Gardens. Gingerly run over David Rowell’s Suspension Bridge which Winston Churchill, as a teenager, fell from during1892. I say gingerly Sylv, as I know you are scared of heights even if it is only thirty feet in the air and sways in the wind. Wave hello to the ghost of Robert Louis Stevenson as you pass by his ‘Skerryvore’ home. Jog around Sandbanks peninsula realizing you are running over the fourth highest land value in the world, and smile at the crew operating the working 1923 vehicular chain ferry. You can do it!” he said with a mischievous look upon his face.

 

            So reader, I did! I did it today. I took on my brother’s challenge and ran those long hilly seven miles ignoring the intense pain that resonated throughout my maimed foot. You see, the town of Bournemouth in the county of Dorset in England inspired my brother. It inspired him to live, it gave him the reason and ‘why’ to bravely battle and fight the consuming cancer which riddled his body and it inspires me as well. My short eight mile run along the coast is only a small part of the 95 miles of a wondrous geological marvel. Picturesque fishing villages and numerous coves dot the coast line. The splendid natural limestone rock arch over 140 million years old and known as Durdle Door is worthy of a visit, as are the white sea stacks known as the ‘Old Harry Rocks.’ Let your imagination soar when you visit11th century Corfe Castle that William the Conqueror built in the parish of Swanage. Travel through market towns built by the Romans, and be awed by Bournemouth’s 1000 feet historic pier. When the evening draws in head into town and visit the numerous restaurants, clubs, and vibrant and friendly nightlife. Soar 500 feet in the air on the ‘Bournemouth Air,’ a giant helium balloon and take in the breathtaking views.

 

            This morning I imagined my brother sitting at the top of the cliff cheering me on, perhaps he is in spirit, I would like to think so. His positive attitude and bravery he showed throughout his life was aided by the scenic ambience he lived in. So visit Bournemouth and be inspired as my brother was in its beauty, charm, and appeal. Walk, run, or merely amble along the cliff tops and coastline, and feel the enchantment of the Jurassic Coast and what it has to offer you. Conquer your fears as I did mine, defeat any obstacles which stand in your way as I did mine, and become your own superhero, as my brother was to me. Today,  I am also my own superhero!

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

The post England: Inspiration on the Jurassic Coast appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

An Impressionable Journey through India

 

   While sifting through the gravelled paths of my inwardly fruitful past, I now vividly see the subtle indentations that has softly marked my unquenchable past; a phase of my life that held in its abyss a soaring powerful force marginally enough to unequivocally make me stronger and courageously fearless. Then a while ago, I greatly wondered why I was no more that minimally brave person I thought I was in those formative years of my life, and how could I have possibly let my faith in the receding handful of hope and every shred of my courage I had ever owned to be dented with fear, which then by some random chance had unimaginably and invariably grown on me as I grew in a fragile world of my own, from which I could almost never free myself from for many a year up until recently….

  A thought from a thought that just wouldn’t cease, out of the unexplored nowhere had birthed itself and crept into the soul of my varying thoughts, but at last it has bravely yet steadily begun to unveil itself before me; and thus for the first time ever I have stumbled upon the theory of my life which now gently resists the fear that lay concealed in me and harshly refuses to let go of what has made me, the fragmented me I am now. I plainly see that which I had so brutally failed to see in plain sight; the stirring fear that was never in me once before has now remarkably purposed itself to undeteringly remind me of a particularly significant journey that I had once made in the year 1991 to the Virgin of Velai, a town in the Nagapattinam district in the Indian State of Tamil Nadu, which indeed was truly a memorable family pilgrimage; and it will never fade away from the recesses of my memory, even if I mustered all of my remnant energy to do so.

  But sadly in 2004, the very soil of this beautiful town witnessed the passing away of many precious lives by the so called waves that masqueraded as though they were seemingly harmless at first. Out of the absolute nowhere, their lives were snitched in a blink as the wildly ferocious Tsunami waves returned to its dwelling and receded from everyone’s sight after having rendered its merciless purpose. Nonetheless, having said that, it would be mighty wrong of me not to mention the very shrine that this aged photograph has captured, which is the Basilica of Our Lady of Good Health, very often and popularly known as the “Lourdes of the East”. This shrine was said to have been built by Portuguese sailors in the mid-sixteenth century. Meanwhile, it has been testified that during the time that the incident had occurred those who were inside this church were miraculously saved and untouched by the surging waves that hurled outside and encircled it. Sometimes, a hint of hope or a morsel of faith drawn from around or within is almost enough to inspire the bravery in us all.

  Finally coming back to my due purpose, and so as I fondly rummage through the whirling past of my clueless past, I see the undeniable truth that even the beige grains of sand that once surrounded this shrine had held for nearly a fraction of a second the firm imprint of my tender feet which I believe had then reflected the glaring strength in me. Yet now, I painfully realize that it was always within me, but never had I once tried to draw it out of myself and see how the impressionable journey that lay hidden in me, has now effortlessly embarked on its most spirited journey to inspire the fragmented me and complete the real me, who was once brave enough; yet at some point in my life the piercing shards of griefs that fragmented me, hid from me the secret recipe of bravery, which gladly I have now unearthed and so understand that it always is, and it always will be at the heart of every quest like those in search of the holy grail; and in the soul of every tale wrapped in a sheath of inspiration.

  There have always been rousing moments wherein I have felt that a journey to the farthest destination can bring back what I once had or perhaps render it better than I had ever dreamt of. But now, every waking minute I can’t help but think that my inspiration was within me all the while, and that the destination journeyed to was just a catalyst that enabled the bravery I had in me from the start of life, which I never knew, but I so do now and forevermore.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Coming Home from France

 

Just the thought of moving back to France nearly gave me a panic attack.  All the work I had done over the past two years, living on our homestead in Virginia, raising chickens, Square-Foot-Gardening, being the PTA president of my kids’ school—all I had built with my hands and heart were supposed to have healed the gaping hole with which I left France.  France is a baby killer.  I knew it was melodramatic to think that way, but hadn’t I already lost two babies in two years there?  I looked down at my second trimester belly.  Now we were moving back.  Would France take this baby, too?

 

            I waved the thought away with a chuckle.  I was being melodramatic.  France would be different this time.  This time, I had a purpose.  The food and curriculum situation at my kids’ school had become unlivable.  Pizza sauce is not a vegetable.  As much as I loved our 32 wooded acre homestead, I needed to get my kids to a place where food is sacred and religious dogma has no place in school.  Yes.  France held some bad memories, but it was also so full of promise for my three living children.  And for the one in my belly.  This helped me pack my bags.  It gave me strength as I traveled alone with my three and a half sidekicks.  It made my heart race with hope on the flight over.

 

            The reality was a thousand times better than the dreaded fantasy.  Lyon hadn’t changed much at all, making it feel familiar and home. The changes I did see were only for the better.  Everything seemed a touch more efficient.  The taxi was at the airport stop in seconds.  He was smiley and helpful.  The hotel staff were kind and welcoming.  My favorite pedestrian street had all of my old favorite bakeries, boutiques and bookstores but had new little nuggets of “home” like a Haagen-Dazs shop and a Starbucks!  There were Velov’ rent-a-bike stations on nearly every block and so many more people used them than just two years prior.  There were Bluely electric rent-a-car stations here and there.  A smoking ban made getting lunch or a coffee more pleasant while the kids were with me.

 

            The kids were ecstatic about being back as well.  Only my 9 year old son really remembered anything clearly, but his sisters soaked and mirrored his enthusiasm as we walked along the Saone and Rhone rivers, stopping at this playground or that one with the huge slides.  Or the one that had all the water fountains you could maneuver for fun.

 

            They gushed about the wide open green spaces of the Parc de la Tete d’Or, running headlong with their arms open wide as if they had just been liberated from their leashes.  As we strolled through the free zoo, they mimicked the playful moneys and marveled at the baby giraffe.  They had a contest with the crocodiles to see if they could keep their mouths open longer.  They laughed at the emus and running reindeer.  When the intrigue of the animals wore off, they strolled through the rose garden, drinking in the mesmerizing vapors of nature and talked to the bees, thanking them for their help.

 

            In the evening, spent from our walks but still buzzing with emotional energy, we made our way back to our pedestrian street where we sat on a bench and watched as the fountain played.  Arcs of water chasing each other and showing off their pirouettes.

 

            When I could see they were ready, we got up and made our way back to our little hotel, stopping only to stock up on fresh veggies and a crispy baguette for dinner.

 

            As they slept, I looked in on them, snuggled up against one another in the double bed.  I sighed with relief.  It was hard to believe I could have dreaded coming back here.  How could I have forgotten all that Lyon had given me?  Why had I only concentrated on what it had taken?  I patted my belly, excited and content that my husband and I had made the best decision for our little family in moving back to Lyon.

 

            In coming home.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Braving the scrambles to Point Lenana, Kenya

‘It’s going to be two to three hours of walking a day, not much steeper than Rutland waters, isn’t it?’ Commented my twelve year old daughter with trusting conviction in her tone. ‘Actually, the itinerary mentions six to seven hours a day and it is much steeper than Rutland waters’, I answered haltingly, not wanting to shatter her confidence. As she stared at me with undisguised horror, she also realized that it was too late. Our plane was touching down at Nairobi.

Six months ago, I had decided to take my daughter on a once in a lifetime mother-daughter trip, a hike to Point Lenana on Mount Kenya. Tickets booked, trip organized and we were counting down the weeks when trouble erupted in Kenya. Mombasa was in red alert when we boarded the plane to Nairobi. Whether it was bravery, foolhardiness or simply the fact that the tickets were non-refundable; we decided that Mount Kenya National Park was too large to be cost effective for bombing or shooting.

Day four of the hike dawned early for us as our guide John woke us up at 2 am. We scrambled out of our tent in Shipton’s camp, the base of the final climb, adjusting to the cutting chill in the early morning air. The path ahead was lit up by starlight and our head torches. I tried to forget how it had looked the last evening and convinced myself that it was possibly not as steep as it came across from our camp site.  We had been surrounded by tall stony cliffs, the roads near vertical at some places, zigzagging through cliffs and sharp edges. John smiled and commented that it was better not to be able to see too well while we climbed.

Delicate volcanic scree finely layered the path to the top. It was not long until I had experienced my first slippery fall, flat on my face and utterly undignified.  For a hiker who had managed Mount Kilimanjaro the previous year with little training, this was Mount Kenya’s demand for her true share of respect. As I dusted my jacket, unsteadily balanced on a ridge, John told me, ‘Place your steps bravely, firmly. If you get scared, your steps falter and the mountain gets the better of you’. My daughter was plodding ahead with little expression of fatigue and a confidence that made my heart burst with pride. ‘Come on mom,’ she called nonchalantly.

I grasped my hiking poles and tested my steps. Point Lenana- here I come. The scrambles ended in a rocky ledge which ultimately led to a series of iron rungs. A brown board with yellow writing proudly proclaimed ‘The world’s highest via ferrata’. A climb on the rungs and we had reached Point Lenana.

Daylight broke through the clouds, bringing into undisguised view the path we had climbed. Shipton’s camp was a dot in the distance and the road to the next camp spread like a map stretching out to eternity. We rubbed our gloved hands, shook  the stiffness out of our legs and smiled at each other. Another six hours of walking ahead before we stopped for camp. No problems, we can do that.

 Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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The Bangkok, Thailand Experience

Well, I’m not going to lie. The first morning I woke up to the bustling noise of Bangkok, I was pretty intimidated. The sweltering heat and humidity, the traffic, the people everywhere! It was all so overwhelming. Boy was it tempting hide in the air-conditioned comfort of my hostel and avoid facing that city. So I was surprised as anyone to find myself ringside at a Muay Thai boxing match with two girls I’d met that same evening.

Overall, my first day in Bangkok was like any other. I had breakfast and spent a bit of time wandering the local neighbourhood looking for things to do. I checked out the tiny Bangkok Museum down the road, stopped into a shopping mall for the wonderful air con when I got too hot, and tried a bit of the street food that is literally everywhere in Bangkok. Just normal stuff, nothing worth raving about.

When I arrived back at the hostel I met Jade and Eva, two Canadian girls traveling through Thailand on their way to Burma. After chatting for a bit, they mentioned they were going to a Muay Thai boxing match across town that evening, and asked if I wanted to join them. Having nothing better to do I figured why not, and grabbed a ticket from the hostel reception for 2000 baht.

Of course, never seem to be that simple in city the size of Bangkok. We immediately learnt a very important lesson – do not go anywhere by road between 5.30pm and 8pm on a Friday night in Bangkok! Not unless you want to spend an hour and a half in a taxi for a 30km drive! Fortunately for us, the taxi was on the meter, and they seem to run on distance rather than time here. So the trip there still only cost us 250 baht – about $10 NZD.

When we finally arrived we were over an hour late, but there was still plenty of fights left so we weren’t overly concerned. We walked into the stadium and the crowd was going crazy. The Thai spectators were all on their feet, screaming their encouragement to the fighters and struggling to make their bets heard over the roaring crowd. As the stadium was well outside Bangkok central, the majority of the people were locals, making us some of the only foreigners in a crowd of a few hundred.

In the ring, two Thai boys were circling each other. That first round we saw featured relatively young fighters, probably in their mid-teens. And while they were reasonably small, they were pure muscle and fast hell. Certainly not someone I’d like to get in the ring with. As the night progressed, the fighters got older, only slightly bigger, but certainly more experienced. And the fights became more intense.

At one point, two of the larger fighters were hammering into each other, exchanging vicious blows. Their legs were flying, smashing into elbows and ribs and heads, all without pads. As someone who spent six years practicing Taekwondo, I know how much it hurts to kick someone in the elbow. These guys didn’t even flinch.

And then, all of a sudden, one of them was down and the crowd went insane. On the big screen you could see the blow being played over and over, showing the larger of the two connect with a massive punch to the side of his head. It must have had some power behind it, because he stayed down until he was helped from the ring.

After that the remaining fights were fairly plain, and we were had it. So we called it a night with a few rounds to go, and headed back to the hostel in a taxi. While we couldn’t find a metered one, we still got a reasonable deal of 300 baht that avoided the toll road.

While this was definitely an experience I would recommend, I suggest you save the money and go check out the fights at MBK in Bangkok Central first. I found out the next day they hold fights there with free entry on a Wednesday night!

 Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Following Moses through Belize

“You may pack one Nalgene, a camera, a change of underwear, and your passport—nothing more, nothing less.” We do this.

We are driven to the bus station. We wait outside while the bald man who told us what to bring disappears into the building. He returns and we are handed an envelope and a couple bus tickets. The bald man grunts and gestures toward one of the gargling buses.

We ask no questions. We’re too excited to not take this seriously. We climb up the stairs like kids pretending to search for buried treasure.

Except that the buried treasure is God. And we aren’t pretending. 96 ounces left.

I’m 19 years old. I believe in wearing white t-shirts with the same pair of blue jeans every day. I am sustained by books about spirituality and those orange Ramen packets. I have been living on a catamaran off the coast of Belize with a ragtag crew of a dozen young adults. I am learning to be a disciple, but wrestling with whether or not I believe in God. We are part of a program called Youth With A Mission.

And now, I’m on a bus with Corbin and Becky. Corbin is a high school dropout of few words. He was ordered by a court in the Midwest to either come to this program or go to jail. He has long hair, white teeth, and loves drinking Coke. Becky is an awkward and skinny girl with a voice like a smoke alarm from the Canadian side of Niagara Falls.

We open the envelope.

“For the next three days, you will trust God to provide for you. You will talk with strangers, pray for the sick, and find strength in service.”

Through the window of the bus, we watch the bald man shrink. We are on our own. Becky tries to sort out a plan: where we should go, how we should get food. I shut my eyes. Corbin shuts his ears.

After two hours the bus stops. I’ve been praying—God, if you’re real… Corbin’s been sleeping. Becky’s made several lists. The town is called Orange Walk.

We leave the containment of the bus and wander to the nearest bench. We sit down with our packs and that complex feeling that all travellers experience—a freedom heavy from the weight of having nothing particular to do.

People don’t speak English here. We’re observing the locals observe us. We’re the only white people, and between the three of us we’ve had a year of high-school Spanish. 64 ounces left.

We knew how to look for God in churches, but how does one find God in the unknown?

A man wearing a purple shirt and overalls who’s got fewer teeth than a hockey player stumbles up to us. He says he’ll show us the town for some food in return. We don’t offer him food or even our change of underwear. We have nothing to give.

He leads us, nevertheless. He explains in Spanish with the occasional English—beautiful, camera, river, USA, photo—about Orange Walk. The place is gorgeous and grimy. Tattered clothing clings onto the rusted railing of a gazebo. The city’s park has become a tangle of weeds patched over by puddles of muck. Piles of trash rot by a winding river. But places were never meant to be sold on postcards.

Our purple Moses says goodbye to us by the river. He pulls brown bananas from a pocket in his overalls. We tell him no; he shoves them into our hands. We eat his sweet and slimy fruit and share our water with him. We feel gratitude and guilt. We’ve never had to take from others like this. 32 ounces left.

For the next two days, we are taken care of—not by God, but by human beings. We are treated to meals with strangers. Corbin gets a glass bottle of Coke. We do handstands with kids in the park. We say yes to everything. Our favorite phrase becomes thank you. We trust the people who have smiles that don’t go away. We learn to be brave because we have no other choice.

We discover how to be full of life while powerless and poor. We give what we can. Becky finds a woman who is sad and just wants someone to talk to. I pray with a man for his broken leg to be healed. Corbin catches us a ride to the bus station in the back of a garbage truck.

For two hours, we soar amidst bags of trash flailing in the wind, with the understanding that if we are willing to accept adventure, either by choice or by lack thereof, then the adventure will provide all that is required.

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