Last weekend’s wedding in Lorraine (the region in France with 3 international borders!) kickstarted what I have dubbed the summer of wedding attendances. With six invitations – two coming from a same couple but for celebrations in different countries – under our belt, of which two had to be declined due to timing issues, we have effectively three more to go, unless there are more invitations due to arrive that we are not aware of…

A little something I’ve noticed – none of our friends and family are organising monoculture weddings. Each and every single one of these weddings involve the coordination of customs and celebrations of two different cultures; Indian-Irish, French-Dutch, French-Lebanese, French-American, and Malaysian-Chinese. Now, how’s that for diversity?

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Today marks another milestone in my life. The next steps are up to me to make them work, and a friend sagely advised that I should have some sort of anchor that I can focus on during this period of time. She is not wrong. It could be easy for me to drift if I don’t have goals to aim for, discipline to keep.

This is where Day Zero Project comes in. I can’t remember how I came across this a while ago (maybe after I drew up my previous list of 50 goals in 5 years?), and it has always been at the back of my mind to revisit the idea. I finally did, and this new list of medium-term goals was born. I will not be tracking them on DZP website though; just here, on this website itself.

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Vacation. Ideally, budget permitting, we’d like at least a couple of them per year. Luckily for us who live in France (and many parts of Europe), time is usually not an issue given the generous annual leave allowance that we get. Then came staycation following economic downturn where many opt to enjoy their break a little closer to home and hopefully need not spend as much by staying local. A few other portmanteaus cropped up quickly – foodcation, nudecation, etc – you get the idea. And now there’s oblication too.

Initially, I thought it refers to compulsory vacation time imposed on overworked folks given the risk of burnt out. Errr, no. Collins dictionary online has received suggestion to accept this new word as “[a] vacation that’s scheduled and/or planned to allow you to fulfil some obligations, like visiting friends or family”.

Oh my… it makes these visits sound like a real chore so I’m not sure where the “-cation” part comes in to play. Isn’t there a fun part normally, and perhaps some down time, to actually make it a vacation to look forward to? Maybe oblication should be swapped for oblivisit, or something a little less “yay holiday!”?

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Spring has finally decided to make its appearance, and as I type this post, it is sunny outside, with streaks of blue sky among some diffused clouds (go away clouds!). However, I’m going to be holed up indoor for most of today, trying to get some work done before a presentation on Monday. The aim is to cram as much work as possible so I’ll have at least tomorrow free to be out and about. Allegedly, the temperature is going to hit mid-20s tomorrow!

In the mean time, to keep myself happy, I compiled this series of photos from springs in the past 2-3 years. Some little thing to remind me of the reward I’ll get when I go out for a walk or a cycle tomorrow. More the incentive to get focused (after I finish this post :p) and knuckled down to hard task at hand.

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This post happens quite by chance. In preparation of some changes to come in my life (and no, we’re not talking about starting a family or buying an apartment – not yet anyway), I started tracking my expenses not so long ago. Normally I have a pretty good idea what I spend my money on, but to actually see the amount I spent on certain things, I scared myself along the way!

Then a couple more things came my way: (1) an article that I saw on Twitter last week about budgeting based on the 50/20/30 rule – more on this below – and (2) curious friends who have been asking me about the cost of living in Paris. The former had me pondering if I’ve set my financial priorities right, while the latter had me seriously thinking about feasibility of living in Paris.

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It had been a frantic few days.

As a result, the small pot of daffodils which I bought in support of Institut Curie sat there for 4 days before I got round to replanting it into a bigger pot. I did buy the soil for re-potting right the next day after I brought the daffodils home though.

As a result, I didn’t have time to bake some goodies for a girls’ evening with my friends and I ended up with a store-bought cake.

As a result, I was enormously happy to squeeze in a walk at Luxembourg Gardens with Frédéric on Saturday, when he surprised me after my science outreach activity afternoon and just before I left to meet the girls.

And so forth…

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My social media feeds have been flooded with various St Patrick’s Day-related photos, videos, well-wishes, articles and more. They are making me very nostalgic for the good ol’ days when I celebrated the festival with much gusto, as well as certain level of silliness, with my friends.

Today, I found a folder of photos from St Patrick’s celebration back in 2008 on my computer. These photos are precious to me. I have not been in Dublin for Paddy’s Day since 2009 (I was elsewhere, then I moved to France) so this was more or less the last time I properly celebrated the big day with the whole shebang: parade, céilí, pub crawl! (Previous years I even hosted parties at home – fun, but a lot of work!)

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9 March 2011

I woke up in the morning with things strewn all over my soon-to-be-former bedroom floor. I was supposed to have put everything I wanted to keep into boxes and nicely stacked in the conservatory (to be pillaged every time I go back to Dublin, of course, so I can bring more things over), set aside books and clothes that I planned to give away to charity (with my cousin assigned the duty to bring them over to the charity shop), threw everything else into the normal and recycling bins accordingly (mostly recycling), and the top priority of all – pack my suitcase!

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A couple of animated short films came to my attention in the last few days, and they have been nominated for the Oscars 2013. Without a single spoken word, both of them – Paperman and Head Over Heels – made me smile and teary at the same time. The former tells the story of the whimsical side of falling in love, of fate and what’s meant to be. The latter shows how love may yet bring people together after drifting away in separate yet intricately linked worlds for many years.

Paperman went on to win the category but Head Over Heels had me reflecting more on the issue of love in a relationship. Love for the sake of love does not sustain a healthy relationship. It requires nurture and effort, a lot of give and take, but most importantly never to be complacent and assume that love will always be there.

There will be times of disagreement and hurt, disappointment and anger, but there will also be times of consideration and care, small (yet significant) gesture and joy. The path which the relationship takes depends on us to steer it in the right direction. The hope is for continued banking of love, no matter how little, because it will all matter.

I am not saying I’ve got it all figure out (far from it!) but I have learned how easily one can take things for granted, and inevitably resentment will follow when things go pear-shaped. And perhaps at time like this, it is even more important to remember why one love in the first place, and find his/her way back towards the guiding light.

Happy birthday Elise!

This little girl turns one today.

Missing her very much!

Unfortunately she’s about 5 hours – an RER trip, a flight, and a bus ride – away; else I would be throwing her a grand good party to celebrate her first birthday! I trust her parents to do a good job of it nonetheless, so will be waiting for photos and videos to come my way soon.

Yo bro, do you hear me? ;)

If there is one certainty in life, it is that life is uncertain.

This time three years ago – 2010, that is – I was at the brink of finishing my thesis and completely ignorant of how the year would unfold. In my stressed-out mind, there was only one thing to focus on: hand in the thesis already! I figured once that was out of the way, I can take a deep breath, have a much-needed break, start job-hunting, and we’d see how things would go.

That would be too simple, wouldn’t it?

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Earlier in January, I wrote about working on life resolutions and tasked myself on 12 little things to do. Let’s have a quick recap on how that went, and then I’ll let you know my opinion on this endeavour.

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Oh they were bold alright. Very bold. Had I not witness it myself, I would have a harder time believing it.

Paris, for many, is an idyllic and nostalgic city. And romantic. And classic. And [fill in appropriate adjectives as you wish]. On a recent drizzly afternoon, Frédéric and I were out on a walking tour of Île de la Cité after which I decided we should extend our time out with a stroll towards the general direction of Place de la concorde. Despite the weather, he humoured me and went along my whimsical request.

From Pont Neuf, we took a scenic walk via Jardin de Tuileries and had just detoured onto Passerelle Léopold-Sédar-Senghor when we saw an old gypsy woman trying to persuade a couple that they have dropped a massive gold ring. As if watching an episode of a telenovela, we sat down at a bench nearby and I whispered to F that the couple had just been had. He was confused.

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I know I’ve been a pretty sporadic blogger for a few months now. A good deal of things happened, and there are so much that I really want to share with you, whether it be about Paris or elsewhere or something else altogether. So I’m working on catching up on the news right now, new and old. Yup, running parallel time lines. It is not easy to try to juggle it all, but slowly and surely I’ll get there.

It would be easy for me to just decide to forget about the last few months and get on from where I am right now, but I made the decision not to. Just bear with me for this couple of months while I get things sorted, and then we should be on smooth sailing. Yell at me then if I fail to stay disciplined ;)

In the mean time, I know it must not have been easy for you to keep track of my haphazard postings. One post I’m talking about the most current thing, and the next I’m back to something which happened in March (and back-dated as such too). Even I had to create a list so I can keep track myself of what I’ve managed to share and what else I need to write about!

A couple of ways you can follow this blog without missing any of the posts: (1) follow this blog on Google Reader, as it compiles the posts as they are published regardless of the date stated on the post; or (2) via the comment system of blog entries, tick “Notify me of new posts by email”. If you notice the lack of mention of RSS feed, that’s because it comes in the order of the dates of posts. I don’t think that’s going to be very helpful at all.

Thanks for sticking around – I really appreciate it!

I have good reason to believe, in most countries of the world, my name gives a clear indication that I’m female, owner (or carrier?) of XX chromosomes. In the past, I’ve used the title “Miss” and “Ms” interchangeably and still there wasn’t an issue of mistaken gender even for someone who hasn’t yet met me in person to confirm that I look like one.

So imagine the great fun I’m having in France where Lilian, sans E à la fin, is famously masculine in nature. This country even proves it by putting forth a famous international export in the form of Lilian Thuram. Here, the pronounciation is not how you’d imagine it’ll be pronounced elsewhere. It’s a guttural-sounding “Lee-Leon” that’s correct given the orthographe.

Liliane is how they like to change things up here for me.

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It has been a well-charged fortnight with one visitor after another (it’s like we’re running a B&B, but free!) and this week, it’s time for a little family vacation. With my brothers and I living in different countries, a get-together for all of us has never been easy. We’d be so lucky if we manage to all be in the same place together once a year for a few days. Even more precious is when we could squeeze in a rare holiday within this period of time. They are in town to visit and I, for one, am very very happy!

While I’ve always maintain the philosophy of playing tourist on a regular basis – you know, visits to various (lesser-known) museums and walking tours to explore different neighbourhoods – this time, we’re talking the major sights. We’re even talking chez Mickey! Ultimately, our schedule will be dictated by a toddler, otherwise known as my adorable niece. Lucky girl gets to visit Paris at 8 months old!

For now, as time is precious, I’m just going to share this one photo which I adore. Beejay took a series of these by stealth when I offered to hold Elise while her parents worked on snapping some holiday shots. I normally shy away from the camera and prefer to stay behind the lenses, but this works out really well and I think this photo will be printed very soon for safekeeping.

I’ll be back in a few days with more posts (accck all the drafts sitting there which I really really should get out!) and till then, have a wonderful week. :D

It still surprises me some day that I live in Paris. Not only that, time has also sneaks up on me. It didn’t feel that long ago when I flew into Paris-CDG with an overweight suitcase, battling my way up and down staircases of public transport system and my then new building (how come no one ever offered to help?), before collapsing into a studio apartment with a beautiful view of springtime out the window.

In between then and now, much has changed and many lessons have been sent my way, whether I asked for them or not. Some are glaringly obvious, others not quite so. These are lessons which Paris has taught me in the past 17 months (yes, already!) …

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I came across an article on BBC yesterday that discusses the use of “tu” on social media and how this is causing a cultural clash in France. But first, let’s pedal back a little for those who read the sentence above and went “what”?

What’s tu?

Or for the Malaysians, apa tu? ;)

We have it easy in English. When you talk to someone, you refer to the person simply as “you”. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if it’s address to one person, or several, or the age and rank of the person. However, in French, not quite so. There’s an entire quagmire to navigate here and a false move can quickly make you a social pariah to said offended person.

At a basic level, “tu” is you in the singular, and “vous” is you in the plural. Add on the layer of politesse, “tu” is now an informal you, used to address a friend, a colleague (but not a superior unless he/she is a friend or has ok’ed), a child or a family member/relative; “vous” is a formal you, used to address anyone you don’t know, someone older than you, someone with authority (bosses fall in this category) and someone you’re showing a level of respect (say, the President).

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I speak Franglais?

I like it that I grew up in a multi-lingual environment, and that I have opportunity to live abroad and experience new languages in the process. At present, I use either English or French in my daily conversations and they are slowly mergin to take life on its own. Slightly alarmingly for me is to find a plateau in my grasp of French and at the same time a regression in my use of English…

Lately, I find myself saying things like “his father” and “her mother” despite referring to the parents of a same friend (who is not both male and female at the same time, I assure you), asking a colleague if she has “taken her tickets” for a conference trip, and I “make (someone) a present” even if it’s store-bought and directly gift-wrapped (lovingly chosen, of course).

In another word, I’m beginning to literally translate from French to English (“son père”, “sa mère”, “prendre les billets”, “faire un cadeau”), and therefore committing the very same errors that I used to correct my Francophone friends from making! I know this is not strictly Franglais in the traditional sense – I don’t often speak in either one language then pepper it with words from the other – but what else would you call it? Confused foreign-speaker?

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I am bemused each time I read an article exclaiming that Mont St Michel is a short day trip away from Paris, and this includes Rick Steves’ claim of it being an easy day trip. Maybe, if you are a staunch believer of around-every-country-in-Europe-in-30-days kind of tourism…?

Let’s established a couple of basic things here. Given 24 hours in a day, and assuming one gets a good 8-hours sleep, we’re left with 16 hours for all activities in a day. If you need an hour or so to get ready in the morning – shower, personal grooming, breakfast (and coffee!) – now we’re down to 15 hours available for the day to play tourist etc.

The Mont St Michel is a beautiful site and I highly recommend it to anyone who’s pondering whether to go or not. Situated at the boundary between Normandy and Brittany, it was assigned Unesco World Heritage Site all the way back in 1979 (before I was even born!) and attracts reasonable number of visitors each year. It is also, however, some 360km away from Paris. Not exactly the next town over.

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Writing a personal blog should be easy, right? After all, these are my experiences that I’m trying to put to pages. However, every so often, I find myself starting little snippets and then paused, not entirely sure how to finish them up without putting everyone to sleep, and all the while thinking “why would anybody think they are interesting?”.

The following is the equivalent of the text on type-written-but-crumpled-on-the-floor pages. Maybe I will revisit them one day, but it’s a lot likely that I won’t. At least I can now get rid of the random text documents – we shall be exploring the theme of “thing I don’t have since moving to Paris” today – sitting in my draft folder. ;)

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First year uni, freshers’ week. I still remember the flutters in my stomach the first time I received a text message from this cute guy I have just met the previous evening, signed off with “kisses”. A mere hour later, another guy I also met during the same social event, also attaching “kisses” to the end of his email. Surely I cannot suddenly be so popular for everyone to be sending kisses my way?

Ah, the naïveté that was me in my youth, and on getting to know the charming “Latin-Europeans” – mainly French, Italian and Spanish – for the first time.

Little did I know, those kisses were merely equivalent to the air/cheek kisses I’ve been getting in greetings to say hello and goodbye, only in these cases, in written form. Had I received a message from a girl that ended with “kisses”, I probably would have think twice about its significance and not jump onto the “someone-had-a-crush-on-me?” bandwagon. The other shoe dropped when some of my new Latin-European friends, of both genders, concluded their text messages or emails with “kiss kiss”. Aaaahhh…

Embarrassing, right? Oh well, at least for a little while, I felt the thrill of the geeky girl who garnered the attention normally reserved for the homecoming queen ;)

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Yet another year in which I fail to make it home for Cheng Beng – a customary “festival” similar to that of All Souls Day on a Christian calendar.

The last time I participated in the tending of our family ancestors’ graves was just before I moved to Europe, half a lifetime ago. Normally the timing simply didn’t work with my schedule but this year, it came incredibly close. I was home for my brother’s wedding recently, and it crossed my mind to extend my holiday so I can finally join my family on this year’s occasion. However, with work being incredibly busy, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to tack on another week to my ten days trip.

And thus, rather peculiarly, I have cemetery in my mind. I think back to the Asian-styled tomb and final resting place of people near and dear to me, and at every turn, I also get flashbacks to the cemeteries that I’ve visited in Paris. Normally, according to my grandmother, one should not go to a cemetery bar specific event (like a funeral) or occasion (like Cheng Beng). However, I am less particular about keeping away from the Parisian cemeteries.

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One of the best thing about living in Paris is the ease one escapes from Paris. Ownership of a private mean of transportation optional.

For someone who likes to travel, this is essential. Paris being a massive travel hub means I could either take the RER/Transilien to visit areas in Ile-de-France, the main rail services for trips around France and all its neighbouring countries (and then some), as well as flights to the rest of the world. I know, there are bus options to travel around Europe too, but I’d rather pay a wee bit more and shorten the travel time, given I don’t exactly have unlimited paid holiday to take.

And well have I been busy taking advantage of this in the last twelve months or what… February (as in 2 months ago) was the only month in which I stay put in entirety in Paris. If it hadn’t been a short month, who knows where I could have jaunted into? ;)

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Ce n’est pas mal. (more commonly, C’est pas mal.)
Ce n’est pas terrible. (ditto, C’est pas terrible.)

Translating word by word, what we have are “it is not bad” and “it is not terrible”. They are conveying messages along similar vein, no? Where we didn’t think it’s good but it’s still, you know, alright I guess. Acceptable.

These phrases are easy to remember; the words not too complicated for a foreigner. Quelle déception! Instead, we would inevitably use them incorrectly. This is how cross-messages happened, until one day, light bulb moment – ding! Mais franchement, I think French people are trying to mess with our heads… ;)

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Returning from my short visit to Sri Lanka, I’ve been asked on numerous occasions my perceptions and thoughts of the country. I find this relatively difficult to respond, as every observer notices different things. Even though Claire and I travelled together, I’d bet my last euro that what she thinks of the trip would be quite different from mine, plus some common points of course.

Buddhism
While knowing the fact that Buddhism is practiced by the majority of Sri Lankans, until my arrival, I simply had not realised just how significant its presence is. Everywhere we went, we would come across a Bo tree which under sat a statue of Buddha, or a simple shrine at the edge of a road, or a large temple overlooking the turn of a bend, or magnificent (and historic) complexes attended by many for prayers and ceremonies.

It also served to remind me that the root of Buddhism lies in South Asia, despite the main practising strongholds of Buddhism and its related/linked religions being East and South-East Asia. The iconographic representations of Buddha are noticeably rather distinct here from those of other parts of Asia. It also highlights how prayers are conducted quite differently from these fractions of Buddhism, yet at the same time hold through the practice of calm meditations. I find them all quite fascinating, but to discuss them in details would merit long articles in their own rights.

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Between the great things we cannot do and the small things we will not do, the danger is that we shall do nothing. -Adolph Monod

Speaking to a friend a few days ago, I lamented how weak my resolves of late have been, of things I’ve started but now reluctantly giving up or putting on hold, of feeling overwhelmed by all that I should do and the panic that ensued when I felt I’ve failed to push myself to get them right. Methinks the greedy philosophy is backfiring…

If I am to go slow, then I need to (re)start small. Baby steps. I cannot keep looking back at those which have gone wrong. Do-over moments are life fallacies. There are, however, don’t-repeat-bad-choices moments to live by. Afterall, life is the sum of all that we’ve been through, regardless of time, place or the people we were with. We are who we are.

But now, time to look forward. Set new (little) goals.

1. Set aside 15 minutes each night to reflect on the day, focus on the positive, and mentally prioritise tasks for the following day.

2. Learn a word a day. English, French, Arabic – who cares which language it is in?

3. Go away a weekend each month. See and experience something new. It doesn’t have to be far. Even a village nearby would do.

4. Cook and eat seasonal. (Note to self: prepare a list of what’s in season when)

5. De-clutter. Nothing good comes from hogging anything, not even love. You know as well as I do that obsessive love is unhealthy. In any case, love is not a collectible item. Just be grateful with all that you receive.

6. Be more a saver, less a spender. (Perhaps a tad contradictory to No 3 above, but hey, trips don’t have to be on the pricey end either. Got to balance things up but it can be done.)

7. Stop worrying about what others may or may not think of my weight. If someone tells me that I need to lose some, I’d thank him/her for the advice and move along.

8. Healthy body, healthy mind – time to get back into my jogging routine!

9. Stop procrastination. ‘Nuff said.

10. Free hugs, virtual or in real life. *Hugs*

11. Project Life. (I’m just throwing this in for now. It’s something I’m interested in but just an inkling. On principle, it’s a pretty good idea.)

12. Smile. Every day. Even when it’s tough to. :D

And no, these are not New Year’s Resolutions. These are life resolutions. And thank you for listening reading my sudden revelations on improving my personal life. I’ll be back tomorrow with more thoughts on my roadtrip in Sri Lanka. See, part of the “stop procrastination” effort. ;)

Supermarket shelf too high? The guy sitting in front blocking the view? Can’t reach that little corner for cleaning? Need about 3-4 inches of heels for a wee boost in height? These are the downsides of being me. Of being a mere couple of inches taller than five feet. But when it comes to travel, being petite has many advantages too. (Scroll over images for captions)

Plenty of leg space
Frequent travellers know that leg space is on the premium while on the move, be it on the plane, car, bus, or even train. Luckily for me, there’s normally a reasonable gap between my knees and the back of the seat in front of me. Stretching out, pas de problème!

Just get comfortable
If I don’t feel like stretching out, tucking my legs under me to settle in comfortably is relatively easy too. There’s nothing beat curling up in one’s seat to read while listening to music, if the scenery proved to be too familiar, repetitive and/or unattractive.

Evoke protectiveness
It is hard for me to appear threatening to anyone. With a little smile, it goes a long way into enlisting help from others. Putting my bag into overhead locker, fishing that one last bottle of ice tea from the top shelf, asking for direction… I just need to be careful that the friendliness is not perceived as an expression of interest for “something special”.

Make the luggage shrinks
The running joke is I could shop in the kids’ section to avoid paying too much value added tax. I bet my five blouses could fold more compactly and weigh less than, say, an adult man’s pair of jeans. Even my shoes are nearly comically tiny. Translate that in terms of volume, it means I can bring less and travel lighter.

Walk right through
Low ceiling, low door threshold, low cupboard shelf, etc – nary to worry. I would have to try to jump up so I can bump my head to the corners. So I’d just happily walk under them, and come away on the other side unscathed. Pretty handy for visiting Lilliput!

Cheap(er) to feed
Well… this is not exactly true. I’m not a fussy eater and I’m almost always game for something local and novel to me. Give me a decent plate of food and I’ll be quite full but, reality is, I could eat large-ish portion when I put my mind to it. Not only that, I’m not aversed to eating at expensive places either. One really should not assume that it’ll be cheap to feed me… ;)

I have been away for too long. Case in point – I have now a big stack of books on the nightstand. Three of them newly purchased. You must be wondering, why aren’t you going out and experience more local stuff? I do, but since this is a work-related trip, much of my time is tied up and the intermittent breaks during the day are usually not long enough to justify heading out somewhere. Come evenings, the options are limited to shopping, eating, and errrr… reading? (It’s dry where I am so no bars to go to meet locals.)

I consider books as part of my travel essentials. I never leave without packing a book or two. When I’m done with them, I replace them with either books from exchange shelves (hostels are great for this) or new ones from the nearest bookshop. This trip, I’ve topped up my reading materials three times altogether.

It does create just a wee bit of a problem – I can’t, and usually don’t, bring them home with me. Those I’m done with, I leave behind. This is more for a practical reason than me not loving the books. For one, I travel light so there’s a lack of space to carry all of them back. Secondly, chances are, I may not re-read them again so why not let someone else have it? Thirdly, like many young adults of today, I am renting and if it teaches me anything, it’s that I should not have too much belongings. Each move creates a problem, since I already have more books than clothes right now!

A friend reckons I should get a Kindle or an iPad, so I can read ebooks and never have to leave any book behind. He advises, “the gadgets are light, slim and easy to carry everywhere.” But of course, any damage or theft to the gadget means I’ll stand to lose a lot more than just one or two small paperbacks. Besides, I think I’ll feel better if there are less things of expensive nature in my bag. Apart from my laptop, camera and iPod nano, everything else’s two a penny. Without actual books, I would also have nothing to contribute to the book exchange shelves, where present, and I’ll feel really guilty taking one out for nothing in return.

What do you think? And what’s your travel dilemma?

Two versions of The Amazing Race are currently being aired – The Amazing Race 17 and The Amazing Race Asia 4. I have been following the shows quite faithfully for quite a few seasons now, and these are little things that I have learned from watching the contestants travelling under tremedous amount of pressure to be a step ahead at every turn from their fellow competitors.

1. It absolutely pays to travel light. It’ll get you in and out of the airport quickly while minimising the issues of missing luggage, tampered content, worrying if it got transferred between flights on time etc. Definitely no waiting at the caroussel for the luggage to appear, not that anyone would choose to check-in anything in TAR!

2. Look after your belongings well, especially when it comes to passport, wallet and travel tickets. Ideally one should not lose anything at all, except the sense of the unknown, when moving from one place to another.

3. Knowing random words/phrases in local language goes a long way. If you don’t speak it at all, then make an effort to pick them up. Please, for goodness’ sake, don’t talk in English loudly and slowly with an incredulous look on the face as if the other person is imbecile. That’s just rude.

4. Be gracious. Not everywhere you go will live up to your expectation but muttering loudly “this place totally sucks” will not endear you to anyone in the vicinity. And don’t follow up with “these people are idiots” or the likes. Have you realise that you are the one right now behaving like an idiot?

5. Ladies, especially the blonde ones, stop kissing random strangers in gratitude. Or use that as a trade-off for them to help you. Sure it’s a “strategy” to win tasks and all, but you’re just reaffirming the stereotype that blondes/foreign women are “easy” and it’s not doing you or fellow (blonde) female travellers any favour.

6. Conflicts on the road are sometimes inevitable, even between family and/or the best of friends. For non-TAR folks, it is perfectly alright to do things individually and meet up again later. No two (or more) travellers are attached to the hips like Siamese twins.

7. Don’t do a round the world trip in 20 days. Don’t even do 5 countries in one continent in 10 days (such tour groups should be banned). You will be exhausted and hardly have time to enjoy anything at all. You’ll end up paying a fortune for the privilege to spend more time getting from one place to another than experiencing the country and its offerings.