somewhere over far western Alaska, west of Bethel
I used to travel to far corners of the world and make sure I got plenty of time to explore exotic new places, meet new people, take photos, eat strange food, get sick and sweat a lot.
Something happened, and now my travel is booked by other people, rather than me, my laptop and the pleasant idiots at Expedia. And while it makes the travelling more convenient, I suddenly seem to be spending a lot more time in airport hotels and less time drunk in picturesque bars, or eating street food.
I'm enroute to Seoul today. Usually when I write something like that, it means that I'm typing on the airplane, planning on posting when I hit the ground. Oh no, not today. This week's client is flying me to Seoul to give a talk as part of a conference and, bless their hearts, they've flown me business class. Which means that there's sufficient space to use a laptop, a power outlet capable of powering a laptop and, for a mere $25 per flight, pretty good wifi. The concept of remaining awake during a 14 hour flight seems less absurd by the minute.
Not to put too fine a point on it: this trip is part of two days, three nights in Seoul, a phrase which seems downright absurd to type. Coming to a country I've never seen before, it really seems like I should get a couple of extra days to explore. Alas, the considerate people who booked my ticket know that I'm A Busy Guy and have me coming in the night before I'm supposed to speak, and returning the day after the conference ends... Despite taking one of the longest nonstop flights one can take, I'll be back in NYC by noon on Saturday after leaving the country midday on Tuesday...
I tried to get the organizers to give me another day in Korea, with no luck. Today at the airport, I tried to switch to a Sunday return giving me all Saturday free. Again, no luck. I'll try again from Incheon, but it's looking increasingly unlikely.
Which leaves me thinking about the trip I took a few months back to Qatar, where representatives from the conference I was speaking at met me off the plane, took me to the hotel, and basically held me prisoner until I left three days later. I finally tried to escape the last night in town and got roped into a dinner with the head of a very big and very controversial TV network instead... in the hotel we'd been in for days.
This time, at least, the formal program has us leaving the hotel. For reasons that I assume are financial, we're at an airport hotel in Incheon for the conference, but we're busing into Seoul each night for gala dinners. Which should be nice enough. And I think I've decided to play hooky Friday afternoon, skip a couple of sessions and do a little solo sightseeing, instead of going sightseeing with the entire crew. Still, it feels like a taste of a country, not the great, deep gulps I like to take.
It is, of course, churlish to complain about the sorts of opportunities I get in my life. One should be so lucky as to get to fly expenses paid in a sleeper seat to a country I would never otherwise visit. I just wish I'd somehow played my cards better, maximizing my chances for the perfect bowl of noodle soup or the most beautiful park, glimpsed out of the corner of an eye when turning a corner. You can't plan serendipity, but you can ensure it won't occur...
Something happened, and now my travel is booked by other people, rather than me, my laptop and the pleasant idiots at Expedia. And while it makes the travelling more convenient, I suddenly seem to be spending a lot more time in airport hotels and less time drunk in picturesque bars, or eating street food.
I'm enroute to Seoul today. Usually when I write something like that, it means that I'm typing on the airplane, planning on posting when I hit the ground. Oh no, not today. This week's client is flying me to Seoul to give a talk as part of a conference and, bless their hearts, they've flown me business class. Which means that there's sufficient space to use a laptop, a power outlet capable of powering a laptop and, for a mere $25 per flight, pretty good wifi. The concept of remaining awake during a 14 hour flight seems less absurd by the minute.
Not to put too fine a point on it: this trip is part of two days, three nights in Seoul, a phrase which seems downright absurd to type. Coming to a country I've never seen before, it really seems like I should get a couple of extra days to explore. Alas, the considerate people who booked my ticket know that I'm A Busy Guy and have me coming in the night before I'm supposed to speak, and returning the day after the conference ends... Despite taking one of the longest nonstop flights one can take, I'll be back in NYC by noon on Saturday after leaving the country midday on Tuesday...
I tried to get the organizers to give me another day in Korea, with no luck. Today at the airport, I tried to switch to a Sunday return giving me all Saturday free. Again, no luck. I'll try again from Incheon, but it's looking increasingly unlikely.
Which leaves me thinking about the trip I took a few months back to Qatar, where representatives from the conference I was speaking at met me off the plane, took me to the hotel, and basically held me prisoner until I left three days later. I finally tried to escape the last night in town and got roped into a dinner with the head of a very big and very controversial TV network instead... in the hotel we'd been in for days.
This time, at least, the formal program has us leaving the hotel. For reasons that I assume are financial, we're at an airport hotel in Incheon for the conference, but we're busing into Seoul each night for gala dinners. Which should be nice enough. And I think I've decided to play hooky Friday afternoon, skip a couple of sessions and do a little solo sightseeing, instead of going sightseeing with the entire crew. Still, it feels like a taste of a country, not the great, deep gulps I like to take.
It is, of course, churlish to complain about the sorts of opportunities I get in my life. One should be so lucky as to get to fly expenses paid in a sleeper seat to a country I would never otherwise visit. I just wish I'd somehow played my cards better, maximizing my chances for the perfect bowl of noodle soup or the most beautiful park, glimpsed out of the corner of an eye when turning a corner. You can't plan serendipity, but you can ensure it won't occur...