28.1.12

Fish food

I love new experiences, and am always down to try something at least once. So when I was offered a free "fish spa" at my hotel I jumped at the chance.
Here's what happened:

But after a while we got used to the hundreds of tiny suckers chewing off our flesh.



26.1.12

From Russia with love

I've been in Moscow for a few days now, and it's been lovely. I've been hitting the streets and spending copious amounts of time getting lost.
The Russian language has been quite a struggle for me, and English speakers are few and far between. There is also something that happens to me, an adjustment period if you will, where I become extremely introverted. After hours or days of forced silence I forget that I am capable of emanating grunts and clicks that convey a certain meaning to others. Then after the remembrance to try and speak arises there is the searching for the words and the making of the sounds. This is weighted down so heavily by the fact that I become timed and fearful of the strange noises I am trying to emulate. To the Russian I sound like a golden retriever growling and yapping sporadically and they don't know whether to pet me or put me out of my misery.
After several failed attempts at connection I curl further into my ball of introversion. The thought of needing anything, or being asked anything by anyone is enough to make me burrow deeper into my Russian hat and giant jacket and move into the crowed. This period of time doesn't last forever. I eventually have to grunt and click and yap and point my way into a meal.

All in all it is just another day in growing. A healthy reminder that this is life and this is travel and I've just dedicated myself to this for the next several years. I've always been a irl that enjoyed a challenge.

25.1.12

23.1.12

Heavy metal, guess that breakfast item, and the lazy sun.

Firstly let me say what a bad idea it is to upgrade your computer operating system, and buy something like a new ipod before you set off on the road. It's like getting your hair cut and dyed in a new style on the day of a performance, generally it's just all bad.
So while here in Russia I am re-learning how to read my emails, and how to scroll on my laptop, how to take and upload photos from my ipod and just how to live life in general.

Day 2 in Russia. Either the sun here is very lazy or it has to work really hard to make this far in life. 9am has come and gone with only a hint of light. This fact of life is not helpful for my jetlag as my body is already convinced that it can't possibly be morning time. Yesterday was spent in a fog onset from little sleep and lots of cold. Walking was slow going and my big search for the day was a power adapter for my dear little princess computer. I brought one with me, but it was a square shape and all the plugs are round. So I took my self to the local electronic store and tried to pantomime my way into an adapter as I said in my previous blog, here's a photo of what I have working for me.

I hope I don't burn the place down.

I've already been to the cafe in the hotel for my complimentary breakfast. I love this  hotel restaurants, it is the quintessential morning experience, the same place I've been in the world over. Flat screen TV's carefully positioned so that no dinner is left without one in view. Russian heavy metal blaring at 8 am complete with epic music videos of girls shaking their booties as shirtless men scream into a mic, kicking into empty air and flames fill the air behind them. A carefully planned out execution of foreground, middle ground, background.
I take my time trying to decipher the buttons on the espresso machine, turns out in the end it doesn't really matter, it's all Nescafe when it pours into the cup.
Breakfast is an overwhelming array of mediocrity on a plate. Mangled tomato slices, sweaty cheese, slices of what looks to be a pressed and process ham. There are anemic croissants and trays and trays of heated oats, sausages, boiled cauliflower, hard boiled eggs and carefully folded crepes.
I load my plate with unknown items and kick myself for not bringing my camera, I find a certain pleasure in playing the food guessing game. A nibble here and a nibble there and boy I'm sure missing my own cooking. Wham's song "Last Christmas" comes on and suddenly interrupts the heavy metal. I swear that is the most popular song in the world, it finds me even here in Moscow in late Jan. I'm actually a fan of the song and know all the words, it's a sick childhood sentimentality I suppose.
I return to the espresso machine to try a new button and see if the flavor of Nescafe has changed, it hasn't. 
I look out the window and try to will the sun some of my energy. I want to be out and about, I want to wander and stroll in the 0 degrees and the snow and feel like I am in my childhood game of CandyLand.


I love airports.

I'm at SFO, or rather I was at SFO, and now I am in Switzerland at the Zurich airport. I love airports. The energy, the people, the panoramic views of eager planes waiting to be boarded.
 With this little international jaunt I can't help but think of my bigger trip looming in the distance, growing more substantial everyday.
Travel has changed so much since the last time I did a substantial sojourn. A few years ago I never would have brought my laptop with me, the thought wouldn't have crossed my mind.
Also several years ago I would have lots of cash squirreled away attached to different parts of my body because God knew when you would find a bank you could withdraw from. Now ATM's are plentiful.

It's a whole new ball game with couches and hostels and cab rides just a click away.

Part of the challenge has been removed although plenty of challange still remains.
I'm in Moscow now, have been here coming up on 24 hours and have already had the grand experience of trying to pantomime my way into a power adapter with universal words like "MacBook Pro".

I've still yet to get the proper adapter but have manged to jury rig something that is probably a fire hazard and won't be left unattended.

I have so much to write but not right now, right now I want to sleep!

11.1.12

Dreamy time

As a photographer I have taken countless photos of dancers, if you're not familiar with my work check it out www.kristineadams.com. The problem with being on my side of the camera is that you get very little time on the receiving end.

But what can I say I was in good hands with the magical Brad Dosland, thanks Brad and more photos to come!

9.1.12

Inquiring minds want to know

And I want to know what it is YOU want to know about my trip.
Anything at all, I love questions so feel free to post them here, or send me an email at
kristine@fcbd.com
And really I mean anything like how much toothpaste will you pack, how will you carry all of this, will you bring your own toilet paper?
Anything at all and I'll address it here.

8.1.12

I'll give you the goods!

I am so fucking excited about these little beauties! Hot off the press these bad boys will look good EVERYWHERE!
Do you want one?
I want you to have one.
So here's what you need to do, go over to the right of the blog and sign up to follow, then send me a self addressed stamped envelope to:

 Kristine Adams
110 Albion st
San Francisco CA 94110 USA

and I will send you a sticker! I'm doing it old school punk rock style.
Can't wait to send these bad boys your way.


6.1.12

I've been in house guest land

and holiday land, and spin your head like a top land, but I'm reeling myself back to reality! Never fear readers the new years has brought new fears and new neurosis and I'm here to over process with all of you.
That's for later, for now I want to share something fancy, this amazing illustration done for me by the sweet, beautiful, talented, ever gracious Cristie Lee Fuller.
Please to enjoy, and keep your eyes out for upcoming schwag:






1.1.12

Well hello there 2012

a new hair for a new year.
2012 is promising to be a wild ride, and I'm ready for it!

About Me

My photo

I study and teach ATS style belly dance with FatChanceBellyDance.
www.FCBD.com

I am about to embark on a world tour:
www.fromthebellyofatraveler.com