The greatest adventure of all - Part 1

In the last two and a half years, I haven't had a single overseas trip. Until last month, when we trekked to Bali for perhaps the greatest adventure of all--our wedding.


We got engaged last year on January 24th, our 7 year anniversary. We headed up to Vancouver for the weekend with plans to go snowshoeing. Last year was unseasonably warm and when we got to the gondola at Squamish we discovered that there was, in fact, no snow.

Instead of snowshoeing, we had a quiet walk around the trails. In addition to the lack of snow, we were also inundated with classic Pacific Northwest weather--cloudy and overcast, blocking out any potential views we would have.

We arrived at a lookout point and found ourselves face to face with pure fog.

Here's a poster we saw later of what it looks like on a clear day.

And the one view we could see.

I turned to take a picture of the one mountain outline we could see and when I turned back around, Marcus was down on one knee. I was stunned. And speechless. After lots of nodding and crying, I managed to squeak out a yes.

One year later, we tied the knot in Bali. Since our family and friends are in two different countries, we decided to pick a neutral wedding location. And instead of making one side travel, we made everyone travel. Besides, our favorite hobby is traveling--we met traveling, we've spent a solid amount of time traveling since. What better way to start our married life than in the traveling style?




So. T minus one week. After a surprisingly contained and uneventful work week, we left Friday night to fly out to Denpasar. As it turns out, when planning a wedding, there are some small, logistical details that don't get planned out as well as you'd hope. Like our ride to the airport, for example. You'd think that in this day and age of Uber and ride sharing, we would have had no problem in making our way to the airport. However we have the most inept smartphones you can imagine. Marcus's is so security-savvy that it refuses to allow those apps. Mine, on the other hand, is three years old which in tech world is ancient. Add to that a month to month phone plan which doesn't allow the Uber confirmation code to come through and voila! Transportation snag. The day of our flight out found us texting friends to see if anyone was free to drop us off on a Friday night (fat chance). Though not available for airport runs, one Jon Deasy offered to get us a car to the airport. We bashfully said yes. Accept the kindness of friends.




After heading home from work and finishing our packing, we settled down for an hour of anxious, pre-international trip TV watching before seeing lights out the front window. Loooooong lights, in fact. Not only did Jon get us a car, he got us a stretch limo. Yes, my friend, stretch limos still exist! And like senior prom, we took a ride in one!

And that body bag-looking bundle hanging over my arm accompanied us, just like that, for the rest of the trip. Wedding dresses are treated with the utmost frailness and care! Every time we got on a plane (four plane rides all up) we had to ask for it to be hung up. Which was sweet, actually. Talk of wedding makes many a-woman jittery with excitement. In fact during our layover in Taipei, a lady in one of the duty-free shops gave us a bag of cookies and candy as a "congratulations" gift. So sweet!

On our flight over, we were accompanied by friends and family. Sister Jessi, brother-in-law Matt, and brother Seth flew from Portland to Seattle, then onwards with us. Friends Bethany and Jeramie (one of my oldest friends + our wedding photographer -- two great bringers of sanity) and their daughter Evey also flew out with us. Quite a crew. And, luckily, we were all seated in different areas. So no obligatory flight conversation. Love 'em all, but when I'm on a plane all I want to do is watch movies and sleep. Space out. Marcus and I do that well on long international flights. And let's face it, it's the one time we get to sit next to each other and get to watch whatever we want. It's a wonderful thing.

The layover in Taipei was pretty decent. Four hours of wandering around, stretching our legs, and exploring the airport. It's a pretty rad airport, actually. There were themed waiting rooms outside most of the gates--rock and roll, history of flight in Taiwan, Hello Kitty, etc.--not to mention indoor gardens, art galleries and a neverending supply of duty free shops (where we stocked up on liter bottles of alcohol for our reception--thanks to our accompanying crew for being our alcohol mules, since we could only enter Indonesia with one liter of alcohol each). I wouldn't mind having another layover in that airport, there was plenty to do and see in between flights.

Now the next flight over was decidedly awesome. We flew over on one of EVA Air's Hello Kitty planes! Hello Kitty everything. Paint on the outside of the plane, the flight attendants' aprons, pillows, head rest covers, utensils. Even the barf bags had Hello Kitty on them.

After that last flight, we arrived in warm, humid Bali! First thing's first. Cash and cabs. Jessi and Matt went off to find their transfer, the Shoda crew found their way to a cab, and Marcus, Seth and I made our own way to our cab, Marcus and I walking with Seth booked in the middle so none of the men looking to carry our luggage 20 meters, then ask for $20 in exchange, could get in edgewise. That first cab ride upon arriving to an airport overseas. Classic combination of confusion and exhaustion. We all overpaid. Except Jessi and Matt, maybe, since theirs was probably free. Learning to how much to actually pay for a cab in Bali was an ongoing saga. At one point someone paid the equivalent of ~$50 US dollars when they should have paid ~$5. We learned. Well, mostly.

We all checked in, met up for dinner and Bintangs, then crashed hard. Until 5am the next day (and many days thereafter) when the jetlag interjected. It wasn't the worst thing, though, because we could get up and walk around in the morning when it was cool and quiet and we could enjoy the fact that we were in another place. That first morning, Marcus and I took a walk on the beach, wending our way around the stray dogs who apparently sleep there, and enjoying the warm water. People watching. Expats walking their dogs on the beach. Tourists going for runs and early swims. The local man sitting happily out in the water splashing water on his rotund belly. Then watching him strip off his undies and proceed to wash them. Not something you see every day.

When we couldn't wait anymore for excitement, we woke up Marcus's brother and sister-in-law to say g'day. And pilfer the fancy hotel buffet breakfast. Certainly didn't go wrong there. Then we headed to the spa so I could take care of the forest that had sprouted on my legs over the winter months. Marcus, in the meantime, had what seemed to be the best foot massage ever.

Then we headed to the beach for a few hours of sun and water, where family came and joined us. Another highlight (lowlight, really) of the trip was that very first beach day. The sand on that beach was a rather dark color and it was hotter than any sand I've ever walked on before. Not just hot, but hot. When my dad got to the beach, not realizing how hot the sand was, he took his shoes off at the sidewalk and walked from there down to the water barefoot. It was about 50 meters and despite quickening his pace when he felt how hot the sand was, the sand got the better of him and blistered the bottoms of his feet straight away. He was a mite incapacitated for the rest of the trip, though he put on a brave face.

That night we attempted some sort of last minute coordination via text, email, WhatsApp and Marcus's roaming that work was paying for, to no avail. We lost Marcus's brother somewhere in between the bar we were looking for and the bar we actually found (which turned out to be right next door...who knew...). But we did catch an excellent sunset.

And we had a few Bintangs. Obviously.