Over the big blue Pacific

Sometime during the flight from LA, the day changed. I'm not sure when, but the sun has not set in 24 hours. While the plane was chasing the sun, I watched movies. I'm still trying to figure out There Will Be Blood; although, I loved The Savages. The venture into food-dom has begun. When they came around for the first meal, I asked for the choices. "Beef or blah, blah, blah," she said. "I'll take the second one," I responded, figuring it was the vegetarian alternative. Nope. Not only could I not pronounce it, she gave me an instruction sheet on how to eat it. "Bibimbap" is a bowl of steamed vegetables and ground "meat" (could not identify the originating animal). You put rice on the veggies, then squeeze "hot pepper paste" all over it. The paste is just that, and the container is exactly like travel-size toothpaste. After topping off with a packet of sesame seed oil, you mix it all together and enjoy. It wasn't bad and complimented the seaweed soup nicely. I watched more movies until the next feeding. A snack of rolls and bananas. Nope. Not a roll. I took a big bite and there was a meat (?) mixture in the middle. Or, maybe it wasn't meat. I'm really not sure. It was OK, I just have no idea what was in it. Regardless, it held me over until the next meal. My choices were beef or pasta. I took the pasta, which was really pasta and shrimp. Now I know why vegans are so skinny!

The flight was 12 hours, arriving in Seoul on time. The airport is apparently newly remodeled. It looks like a giant shopping mall. Many stores were having their "Grand Open" sale. I took advantage of the time to walk for about 90 minutes. I was pleased to see the western toilets but puzzled by the soft-ball size contraption on the wall of the stall: "Etiquette Bell." Trust me, I wanted to ring it, but I feared the consequences. What is it?! If you know, please e-mail me. I thought about my dorm in college, where you had to yell, "Flush," in order not to scald the person in the shower; however, there was no shower in sight. Then I thought it might be an alert to others not to enter this bathroom, if you were being too stinky. Anyway, you can see why I didn't engage the bell.

The flight to Ulaan Baatar (henceforth known as UB) was a piece of cake after the previous one. I sat next to a Kazahk-Mongolian, who was thrilled I was visiting his country. He spoke approximately ten words of English and all I could do was point to the Cyrillic writing with English translations in my guidebook. By the end of the flight he had invited me to stay in his apartment. Although I have read this type of hospitality is customary in Mongolia, I turned him down. Maybe in my younger days, but I already had a ride planned from the airport to Nassan's Guesthouse.

When I arrived at Chinggis Khaan International Airport at 9:30 pm, it was still light outside. Immigration, baggage and the ride went smoothly. Nassan greeted me, then introduced her daughter, Bolor. Bolor ushered me to my room, where I promptly fell into bed.Read more