tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post56331024946589439..comments2024-03-28T14:33:26.011-04:00Comments on Jungle Red Writers: Traveler's TalesJungle Red Writershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16646429819267618412noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-48838623703318733722012-02-20T22:34:46.194-05:002012-02-20T22:34:46.194-05:00What wonderful stories! Thanks all for sharing the...What wonderful stories! Thanks all for sharing the tales.<br /><br />Julia- I know where you stayed I think. Creepy finding it after driving through the jungle for hours, would have been more creepy if it were empty when I arrived.<br /><br />As far as my travel horror/adventure stories, I was nearly swept away in a river during a hurricane in Costa Rica, but what was more traumatic was the time I got trapped in the airport on the way home from a summer in Puerto Rico. I have a rule now - don't fly with a guy who was cursed by a Jamaican t-shirt seller. Just don't....Lynnhttp://www.lynnsheene.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-51053803768084213472012-02-20T20:13:13.951-05:002012-02-20T20:13:13.951-05:00About 15 years ago, I spent 10 days on Koh Samui, ...About 15 years ago, I spent 10 days on Koh Samui, Thailand – a sweet little southern island in the Gulf of Thailand. It was my first trip to Asia. The beaches were beautiful and the water wonderful, as you might expect in this paradise. In my experience, the people were even more wonderful and charming. I fell in love with Thailand and the Thai people.<br /><br />The weather turned windy and rainy on the day of our departure. We were to sail in the ferry back to the mainland and make our way up to Bangkok. When my travel companion suggested we upgrade to the “fast boat” so we would be more quickly out of the storm, I felt relief. After a long wait in the weather, we boarded the exotic looking curved keel boat and made our way down to the interior seating area. We managed to find 2 seats at the back, and as I took my chair, I sat on a life preserver jacket. I remember thinking, well at least I've got my salvation. I took a look around at the other life jackets overhead and realized there were not half enough for the number of people on this ferry. It was NOW that I remembered hearing about ferry accidents in Asia and I started to get a little nervous. The weather had turned into an out-of-season typhoon, and the boat was knocking about something fierce. A throng of people who had been sitting up on deck came inside and sat on the steps, floor, anywhere they could. <br /><br />When the motor noise quit, we wondered what's up. My (now ex-) boyfriend made his way through the engine room to the toilet at the back of the boat. When he came back, he grabbed a life jacket off the shelf and sat on it too. He told me the men in the engine room looked upset. I made a quick trip to the toilet to see for myself. I walked through the door and down the single aisle inside the engine room. Although the engine noise was absent, the sounds of waves and wind were loud. I could see open water underneath the belly of the equipment. Several workmen appeared to be just sitting, waiting. One man was attending the silent engine. There were worried faces and no smiles, very unlike the Thai people that I had met. I had to walk a plank over open water to reach the toilet shack at the stern. I made my way back to my seat. We sat there biting our nails and not really understanding the danger of being in a long narrow boat with no running engine, buffeted by huge waves in the middle of the Gulf of Thailand. This motorboat ferry had no back-up paddles as there were on the smaller boats. If a big wave had hit us broadside, I'd be typing this under water. (!)<br /><br />As I understand it, the engine had gotten overheated and finally cooled down enough for them to start it again. The fast ferry soon made its way into the mainland port. And we were off to a misadventure in Bangkok -- but that's another story...Avi Lovenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-36866364071283301562012-02-20T19:24:13.774-05:002012-02-20T19:24:13.774-05:00Tried to post a comment earlier but my Kindle ate ...Tried to post a comment earlier but my Kindle ate it. The arthritis and tendinitis in my wrists told me not to try to recreate it. Also, my tummy is not too happy right now. The gist of my message was that my vacations tend to be dull. Except when there are hurricanes. And the one minor earthquake that was not as exciting as Lil's.<br /><br />The End.Deb Romanonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-28434127854312874232012-02-20T15:42:52.306-05:002012-02-20T15:42:52.306-05:00Hank, and those seawall reports during hurricanes....Hank, and those seawall reports during hurricanes...reporters hanging on as they blow sideways in the wind... that was you too... right? Hah! You are so funny. Shelby Scott probably did that, too - while running AFTRA in her spare time.Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-21168560844133291292012-02-20T15:08:47.583-05:002012-02-20T15:08:47.583-05:00I miss Boston TV. We have nothing like that "...I miss Boston TV. We have nothing like that "west a Worcester," unless you can get L.A. TV and watch the daily car chase.Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-90210358691818235202012-02-20T15:06:09.082-05:002012-02-20T15:06:09.082-05:00You! Of course it was you! But Shelby Scott-- of c...You! Of course it was you! But Shelby Scott-- of course! Wow!Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-46545623868039423202012-02-20T15:02:56.177-05:002012-02-20T15:02:56.177-05:00It was ME! (Or you might mean..ah..her name is......It was ME! (Or you might mean..ah..her name is...Shelby Scott! Right?Hank Phillippi Ryanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17420701704169428286noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-32241236263339221032012-02-20T15:01:23.034-05:002012-02-20T15:01:23.034-05:00Ah, Hank I felt for you suffering through all of t...Ah, Hank I felt for you suffering through all of that to get the story. Reminded me of that exceedingly hardy reporter back home who would stand on the Mass Pike - reporting on yet another blizzard in April - as ten-wheelers jackknifed around her! Who was that intrepid reporter?Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-17929517308215170972012-02-20T14:34:40.554-05:002012-02-20T14:34:40.554-05:00Ah...wow. A bleak little boat in New Orleans pales...Ah...wow. A bleak little boat in New Orleans pales..Hank Phillippi Ryanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17420701704169428286noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-62551922045794395112012-02-20T14:25:08.155-05:002012-02-20T14:25:08.155-05:00Hi Reine, I prefer your story! Mine killed a littl...Hi Reine, I prefer your story! Mine killed a little something inside me that I never grew back. What replaced it? A little cynicism. But that said, I don't regret the misadventure. It makes for a good story now. :-)Lisa Alberhttp://www.lisaalber.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-81497810012199925312012-02-20T14:15:15.478-05:002012-02-20T14:15:15.478-05:00Oh, Lisa... my experience was nothing like yours. ...Oh, Lisa... my experience was nothing like yours. Mine was only frightening at first. I wasn't harmed in any way. I got to patrol with handsome young Danes who bought me French press coffee at an outdoor café... . No. I had fun and gathered material for a cozy, should I ever be moved to write one. You, my dear, are very brave.Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-45238890238244869242012-02-20T14:05:05.247-05:002012-02-20T14:05:05.247-05:00Reine's story of a crime in Denmark reminded m...Reine's story of a crime in Denmark reminded me of my time living in Quito, Ecuador. This was just after college, my first career job in international finance. This was the 80s. I thought I was heading on to investment banking glory in NYC. Hah! But that's another story.<br /><br />This is so outlandish, it doesn't seem real now. So, as these things can start, I meet a man. An exotic Spaniard named Bruno. Seems a little thin, but no matter. He was European. We hang out. We don't get together, but I, hopeless that I am, thought we were heading that way. He's got a friend, Isabel. "Friend," yes. <br /><br />I was SO naive, folks, so trusting, out there in the world by myself for the first time (and not even in the U.S.)...<br />Ends up, I let Bruno and Isabel sleep at my place as a favor because of something to do with their hostel. I got to work, I return home, and they're gone. My place seems the same as usual, but...it felt off at the same time. They'd stolen all my American dollars -- $5,000, which was a ton back then, and all the money I had in the world. It was my get-of-Ecuador money.<br /><br />Later, I confront him in the bar where I'd met him, and he gives me the innocent look. I'm just a stupid American. He basically tells me what a bad-ass he is, having had to flee Spain for awhile because he's a member of the ETA separatist/terrorist movement. He tells me the money is gone--back to Spain for the movement. But,he also pulls up both his sleeves, and oh my innocent eyes: the track marks of a junkie like you wouldn't believe. A solid, thickened red line from wrists up to elbows. I was horrified. But I must have said something because he and Isabel went into hiding.<br /><br />He thought that was that, but I got the Ecuadorian policia involved. I, like Reine, drove with them night after night to find out where Bruno and Isabel were dossing down. Finally, we found them. The policia let me follow them into the hovel. It was what you'd expect: yelling, pounding, breaking down the door. And there were the two lovers-slash-junkies-slash ETA extremists curled in bed together.<br /><br />But, the disillusionment didn't end there. Bruno was imprisoned, and treated non-too-kindly by the police (this being a third-world country) but eventually let go. I never did get my money back, and I found out later the only reason the policia were so helpful was because I was a stupid American, and they thought they'd get the dollars for themselves in exchange for letting Bruno go. When they realized the money was indeed gone, that was that.<br /><br />This was a hard lesson for a sheltered Marin County girl. The whole thing was insane even if hunting Bruno down with the police was exciting.Lisa Alberhttp://www.lisaalber.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-41155672673937738152012-02-20T13:57:43.969-05:002012-02-20T13:57:43.969-05:00Bears! Oh, lil, I forgot about the bears.
Fabulo...Bears! Oh, lil, I forgot about the bears. <br /><br />Fabulous stories! I have to say really good writers, all.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-41362272590083661122012-02-20T13:56:22.072-05:002012-02-20T13:56:22.072-05:00Lil,
I'd say getting rocked out of bed during ...Lil,<br />I'd say getting rocked out of bed during a an earthquake is a pretty good story! :) <br /><br />Certainly dramatic!Jan Broganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11323983086318138814noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-87803618205168166362012-02-20T13:44:39.145-05:002012-02-20T13:44:39.145-05:00I love all the stories although I don't think ...I love all the stories although I don't think they felt good at the time for you all. I don't have any stories to equal yours other than getting rocked out of sleep in an earthquake in LA, and getting soaked on various camping trips. It was a quiet life.:) Oh and dealing with bears-but that's another story.lil Glucksternhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09288522126331817172noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-78308647474073355832012-02-20T13:28:10.384-05:002012-02-20T13:28:10.384-05:00Fortunately, fun travel has generally been good. B...Fortunately, fun travel has generally been good. But a year ago, in January, I had to travel to South Beach Miami, from Washington DC for work. There was a conference of lawyers from all over the globe, and I had just started a brand new job. Well, I decided to take one bag, complete with suits for daywear, dressing clothes for evening wear, and so on, which I had just bought on a major spending spree. <br /><br />For casual attire, I wore my black cowboy boots, black jeans, and a black and cream flowered cowboy shirt I had recently bought in Austin. Fun stuff, but by no mean business attire.<br /><br />I planned to carry my bag, but at the gate, the airline took it and checked it through Atlanta to Miami.<br /><br />Got to Miami,and of course, no bag. The line to report a missing bag was immense, as a host of travelers from the Midwest had arrived and were about to get on a Disney Cruise. After about an hour, I reported my missing bag, was assured it would show up and be delivered to my hotel. I went over to South Beach where I checked into a FABULOUS hotel, the Fountainbleu.<br /><br />Well, my new work colleague was waiting for me, and we had to rush to get to the cocktail party. Most people were in suits, some in casual clothes, but I was the only one men asked if I'd been out riding the back forty looking for dogies. <br /><br />Oh well, I went back to the hotel, bought a toothbrush and toothpaste and fell asleep. At 2 a.m., when the popular club closed, the line of cars pulled in honking and clubgoers screaming for about two hours. I finally got back to sleep, and I awoke to ... no bag. I called, and the airline said they had no news, it had well and truly been lost. <br /><br />I showered and put on... the same clothes I had traveled in. I got a LOT of strange looks, but did my work at the conference. (Did I mention, even my makeup and my medicine was in my suitcase???)<br /><br />So, lunch time. Major internationally recognized speaker (and a former boss) was presenting to the crowd. I decided to head over to the local mall to do some power shopping. In two hours, I bought shoes, a dress, a pair of pants two shirts, makeup, jammies and other essentials, for a total of $850. I hopped into the cab to get back to the hotel... and my cell phone rang. It was my PHARMACIST back home.<br /><br />The only thing with any identification in my bag was a bottle of medicine, and the airline called my pharmacist, who, because of federal laws, couldn't provide my phone number, but who called me. We've become friendly, and imagine my shock when the I answered the phone and my pharmacist is saying, "Hey, where are you? Because I hear you are traveling and *I* know where your suitcase is!"<br /><br />Larry gave me the id number for my bag, laughed a bit, and hung up. I called, and was assured that my bag would be there before I went to bed that night.<br /><br />I went to the conference appropriately attired after lunch. Went to dinner with my colleague. And of course, no bag after dinner.<br /><br />A repeat of the 2-4 a.m. wakeup experience. ACK!<br /><br />The next morning, my bag still hadn't arrived. I got dressed, went to the last few hours of the conference, and got a call. My bag arrived at the airport. <br /><br />I had to tell them to leave it there, since I was about to leave the conference. WHen I got to the airport, I had to wait in a huge line again, almost missing my flight. I dashed to security, where the guards wouldn't let me through because I had to check my bag, since I had a sack and another bag and my suitcase!!! <br /><br />THat's when I just started crying. They wanted to CHARGE me to check the carry-on sized bag that I had not seen for the whole trip! I don't really remember much after that, except that I finally got home, claimed my bag, and went home for a long shower and nap.<br /><br />The silver lining? The airline reimbursed my out of pocket for the clothes I bought. Still. I wouldn't recommend it as a way to get a new wardrobe...Unknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11573744900187432357noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-32363528405141862992012-02-20T13:05:41.257-05:002012-02-20T13:05:41.257-05:00The year was 1997 and I was making my first-ever t...The year was 1997 and I was making my first-ever trip abroad. I was traveling solo to Russia to hopefully bring home my infant son. The night before my departure, while I made a last minute, late night trip to the grocery store, my Rhodesian Ridgeback got into my suitcase and ate the packets of oatmeal, ramen noodles and peanut butter crackers that were to sustain me for 16 days. By the time I returned, he had deposited a large portion of what he had eaten back on the carpet. After cleaning that up, I tried to get a few hours sleep before my early morning flight, but was kept awake by his piteous moaning. Being truly alarmed at his condition, I took him to the emergency vet clinic, which was dealing with a more pressing emergency. Finally, I left him with a blank check and a note saying a friend would collect him. I dashed back home in time to load my things into the friend's car (explaining the extra little chore I would need her to do for me) and we made it to the airport. FF 16 hours and I arrived in Moscow, but my luggage, containing the 'conservative court attire' did not. The next day I found myself begging my translator to explain to the judges why I was wearing jeans, hoping it would not jeopardize my adoption. Thankfully, it did not, but they would not waive the 10 day waiting period, and it was 16 days later, after adding in time for other bureaucratic details to be taken care of, before I was ready to begin the journey home. Finally, the day of departure arrived, and I was ready and waiting, with 3 pieces of luggage, a diaper bag, briefcase, purse and a tiny infant strapped to my chest, waiting and waiting and waiting for my driver/translator to appear. He was 45 minutes late, and when he did arrive, well, that's when the adventure really began....Gail Huddlestonnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-91688835084625536892012-02-20T12:30:35.325-05:002012-02-20T12:30:35.325-05:00Yes, Hank, a rat. I am not a scream-and-jump-on-a...Yes, Hank, a rat. I am not a scream-and-jump-on-a-chair person, but oh, ugh.<br /><br />Very interesting to think about how much the standard of living has improved in the UK in the last thirty years, isn't it, Rhys? Although maybe you never stayed in such horrid places. And I'm sure there are still a good few of them...<br /><br />I'm writing about a real hotel in the w-i-p that one would not care to visit. (The name has been changed to protect the not-so-innocent...)Debhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11519514786198185277noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-44152886836888552482012-02-20T12:30:13.533-05:002012-02-20T12:30:13.533-05:00My husband used to tease me about being a picky ea...My husband used to tease me about being a picky eater until we were in La Manzanilla, Mexico -- a lovely little beach town just north of Manzanillo -- on my birthday and all the few restaurants were closed, so my birthday dinner was street tacos and Tecata in a can. And I loved it. :)Leslie Budewitzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11942314846112875042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-40749787842063357492012-02-20T12:23:10.384-05:002012-02-20T12:23:10.384-05:00Oh yes, now the memories are coming...I went to Fr...Oh yes, now the memories are coming...I went to France for a semester in college. On the plane on the way over, someone stuffed a stack of extremely pornographic photos into my train case. Now how did I explain THAT to the Catholic roommates I'd never met???Lucy Burdettehttp://www.lucyburdette.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-46414313234850883322012-02-20T11:50:07.190-05:002012-02-20T11:50:07.190-05:00Rhys, you're right. That delay was much worse,...Rhys, you're right. That delay was much worse, much more stressful, than the stay in the B&B, which was beautiful with good food and staff who were helpful & trying to get the hot water fixed.Linda Rodriguezhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11913741596693442469noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-40579700286361597262012-02-20T11:47:11.863-05:002012-02-20T11:47:11.863-05:00Linda, I think the delayed flight story is one of ...Linda, I think the delayed flight story is one of the worst thing that happens to us these days. Sitting in a plane on the tarmac, powerless. Ugggh.Rhys Bowenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06663634889908752121noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-73419013204458590592012-02-20T11:39:10.999-05:002012-02-20T11:39:10.999-05:00Amazing stories! After reading them, I can't b...Amazing stories! After reading them, I can't believe my own travel has been so peaceful and unstressed. <br /><br />Though there was our last trip to NYC where we stayed in a beautiful Victorian brownstone B&B where the only bathroom was up on the 4th floor with a Victorian claw-foot tub (fitted with shower head and curtain) that you had to lift your leg practically to your waist to get into. I'm on a cane and stairs get tough for me by the time there's four flights, plus there's no way my legs will lift high enough to get into the tub. But then it turned out they didn't have hot water the whole time we stayed there anyway. So it was twice-daily cold sponge baths at the sink. <br /><br />Then our flight back was delayed 18 hours, and we spend them all at La Guardia. *sigh*Linda Rodriguezhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11913741596693442469noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-53295551006229717982012-02-20T10:38:08.149-05:002012-02-20T10:38:08.149-05:00Oh yes, now other fond memories are flooding back:...Oh yes, now other fond memories are flooding back: the time our bag was stolen on a train in Prague station, John's wallet stolen from the trunk of our rental car while we were at the beach... and we only discovered it missing when we went to pay the bill after lunch...<br />Ah travel, So relaxing.Rhys Bowenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06663634889908752121noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-86381137757914819392012-02-20T10:33:53.445-05:002012-02-20T10:33:53.445-05:00And oh, the rest of the comments...amazing! And yo...And oh, the rest of the comments...amazing! And you are all so brave!Hank Phillippi Ryanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17420701704169428286noreply@blogger.com