The Move

I’ve moved too many times than I would care to. Just so I could have a roof over my head. Leaving everything I’ve grown attached to. Forgetting my side of the bed, where to turn on the light and having my routines scattered like dust in the wind. Permanent goodbyes to a place of solitude, knowing I will never go back and if I did, it would never be that place, my place anymore.

Would you even want to go back? I’ve asked myself. It’s hard to pack your stuffs into heavy bin bags up and down staircases till your feet are sore, but it’s even harder to turn back.

How faintly the memories of my first move surface. Ripples of excitement and nervousness coarsed through me. It was my first time in Hungary, far from home which meant I was grown—-or so I thought. How I look back at those years of brooding naivety. The era before my innocence cherry popped. I got older, moved on to…whatever older people do.

Today as I pack yet another bin bag, off yet another light and return yet another key to a place I called home for months. I’m reminded that home is not a place, and to turn back would mean embracing a myth of ritual, ignoring the lighthouse that beckons me to sail onward to wherever home may be.

Beard eye

Captain Beard eye is not like any regular pirate you’ve heard about before

He’s not a scruffy vulgar scallywag like the other sea robbers in the high ocean. He didn’t steal treasures or have an eye patch. He didn’t even have a seagull that gawked on his shoulder from sun up to sundown .

He didn’t squander his nights on laudanum and flute.

No beard eye is not like any pirate you’ve ever seen

His sailing ship was the whole earth. He’d would sail the earth through stormy waters. If sailors fell overboard, he’d send a rescue boat . With intentions purer than the fresh water he sailed. Sometimes the sea was foggy because the sailors disobeyed his commands, but that didn’t distract beard eye from his goal to teach them to love each other and him.

A night came during his adventure in the North ocean, A whirlwind struck the water into a violent storm, threatening to drown his crewmen. The sailors cried and whimpered and wailed. “Gather your courage men, the Lord our God will save our lives” Beard eye commanded. Some of his cabin boys hid under the rescue boats, while others contemplated drinking mercury.

But Beard eye held the wheel firm in his hands, and his tobacco pipe firm between his teeth. He sailed the boat as fast as his could, even though it had begun to sink. The crew had lost all confident in him. But soon, the ship was gliding from wave to wave because of the speed. Beard eye neither slowed down or wavered. And just like that the sails could touch the clouds. The sailors couldn’t believe their eyes. Perhaps we are dead, they mummered amongst themselves. But Indeed, the ship was flying over Africa. It landed somewhere in the Indian Ocean.

Hence, Beard eye became not only the most famous pirate in the heavens and the earth, but will be the most respected name for generations to come.

I am Chicken

The past week has been terrifying, exhilarating and oddly memorable. The events which were all except subtle started out with me preparing for an Interview. The journey from Pécs, Hungary to Rodewisch, Germany lasted 9 hours, not including rest stops and Highway tickets we needed for crossing a few borders.

Our destination was a sleepy little town in east Germany. By the time we arrived, the town was in it’s default quiet mood. Even mosquitoes managed to turn in for the night. Our hotel’s reception was only available by phone call and no restaurant was open.

It reminded me of a movie I saw a while back, Silent hill If I’m not mistaken. But really any film where people disappear in small cities and no one ever remembers their last seen location. I half expected a man with a chainsaw and a mask of human skin to stagger across the road behind us as we checked into the hotel. In my defence, I gotta stay sharp and ready.

But no wonder, I was all anxious. This was my first interview ever so I did what normal people do, deliberately conjure up a series of apocalyptic events in order to take the edge off. That is what people do right? if the town was eradicated, I wouldn’t have the face a panel of healthcare experts judging my intellect and character. Alas my horror fantasies remained only fantasies.

Although the interview went better than my subconscious played it out, I did something that is unlike me. I chickened out.

I know I’m not a big city girl. As it turns out, I’m no small town girl either. I couldn’t imagine spending no less than 4 years doing my residency there. Even a caged phoenix like myself needed to feel the bustle and grind of life saturating the air around me. Neither my desperation for the position nor the amazing hospital staff could convince me to call Rodewisch home.

Hence, it wasn’t even midweek yet and I was devastated. So my hubby rode the spontaneous wave and detoured to Prague on our way back. It was my second time in the city. The first time I was in Prague, I tried tandem-jumping. This time, we visited the Thrill park.

Everything about thrill park was horrific. I thought it was odd that my husband found the place because he scares easy but perhaps he knew it would help me cease whining about the Job.

By the end of our talk with the host, we were more scared than ever. She added that we could simply yell out a safe word, “I am chicken”, at any point during the experience that we couldn’t continue. What kept me on my toes was really the fear of the unknown and a rumor that more than 800 people had chickened out.

We then made our way into the dungeon in complete darkness.

It was adrenaline surging, gut wrenching and utterly horrific. We held onto each other like we were each other’s breathing machine. I laughed each time I freaked out which was probably not the reaction the host expected.

It was as though all my favourite horror movies came to life around me and I was the protagonist. I wasn’t fazed by the costumed people or the wax figures. However, a period did come when my stamina was tested. After a spook from a monster, a red light turned on to indicate a key inside a toilet bowl. Being a huge fan of the saw franchise, I appreciated the reference. However I wasn’t about to put my hand down there even if it was clean.

I just couldn’t. I was chicken.

My husband reached down there and found the key attached to a long chain that attached to the toilet. We felt our way around the prison bars and found the key hole. We soon continued our journey once again in darkness.

The exercise ended at the 24th minute with Jason pursuing us up a flight of stairs with a sputtering chainsaw.

In the end, I had an amazing week because I learnt a couple of things. Since the world didn’t end like I thought it would, I would recommend travellers visiting Prague to check the thrill park out and if brave enough, try tandem jumping too, because truth is, you never know what you’ll discover when you decide to wear your heart on your sleeve.

Inside the dungeon


Hey Friends. These lovely pictures were so enchanting that I had to share them. Enjoy!


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A horseback rider overlooks a broad cascade in Iceland. PHOTOGRAPH BY SURANGA WEERATUNGA

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A visitor is dwarfed by the cascading water and mist of one of Iceland’s famous waterfalls.PHOTOGRAPH BY WITOLD ZIOMEK

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Moody weather shadows a cataract in Patagonia. PHOTOGRAPH BY LIANA MANUKYAN

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This falls of the Campbell River blankets the surrounding rock with an icy spray. PHOTOGRAPH BY EIKO JONES

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After driving 11 hours straight, photographer Casey Horner

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Stirling Falls plummets from a height of nearly 500 feet in Fjorland National Park. PHOTOGRAPH BY LEONA CHORAZYOVA

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In late April, snowmelt increases the flow of the iconic, 2,425-foot waterfall.PHOTOGRAPH BY JEB BUCHMAN

“One of my favorite parks,” says photographer Gosha L

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The famous falls has the highest flow rate in North America and attracts about 30 million tourists a year.PHOTOGRAPH BY ISABELLE D

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“This small southern beech tree caught my eye just as we were about to head back down the track to the township,” says photographer Wynston Cooper

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Colorful clouds roll over the falls, seen from the popular South Rim overlook known as Artist Point.PHOTOGRAPH BY RAYMOND CHOO


Nearly 200 feet wide, this popular waterfall is one of Sweden’s largest.PHOTOGRAPH BY CALLE HÖGLUND

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Faced with tourists swimming at the base of the 230-foot-tall falls, photographer Victor Lima


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A tall waterfall cascades off a promontory of Vagar, one of the North Atlantic’s autonomous Faroe Islands. PHOTOGRAPH BY HAITONG YU

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After a two-hour-trek, photographer Marc Henauer found one of the Swiss river’s many cataracts

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A visitor gazes into the gorge formed by this powerful waterfall in southern Iceland. PHOTOGRAPH BY RUSSELL PEARSON

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Trees diffuse the light of the setting sun across this tiered waterfall on Tasmania’s west coast.PHOTOGRAPH BY JIEFEI WANG

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Taking its name from a Tagalog word meaning “hidden,” this remote but popular cascade can only be reached by descending 500 winding steps.PHOTOGRAPH BY KATHLEEN TUGANO

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Water still runs beneath the icy shell of this waterfall in Banff National Park.PHOTOGRAPH BY KATHLEEN CROFT

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These two waterfalls were artificially created beneath a stone bridge.PHOTOGRAPH BY CHRIS VASILIADIS

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“The night left a thin layer of snow over the highest mountains [in] fresh air that is difficult to have in our cities,” describes photographer Alessandro Mari.

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Icy conditions made this shot a challenge: “Water spray was constantly refreezing to my lens, so I had to frequently wipe it down,” says photographer Ed Graham.

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Over 400 feet high, with a waterflow of one ton per second, Japan’s tallest waterfall is the center of worship at the Kumano Nachi Grand Shrine. PHOTOGRAPH BY HIDENOBU SUZUKI

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The Banaue Rice Terraces, sometimes called the Eighth Wonder of the World, envelop this high waterfall.PHOTOGRAPH BY JOEL BEAR