Tag Archives: travel

October 27, 2021

Leaving Bishkek

Note: This is a true story, happening to me at the moment. I know that the last few posts here have been non-fiction, slightly out of place on what is ostensibly a fiction blog. We’ll just chalk it up to truth being stranger than fiction and leave it at that.

I am currently on a Pegasus Airlines flight from Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan to Istanbul, Turkey. I got out of Kyrgyzstan at last, although it was a complicated few days and is a great microcosm of the difficulties of traveling in the time of COVID-19. Don’t get me wrong, I love Kyrgyzstan, but I probably shouldn’t stay there forever.

To be fair, the problem wasn’t necessarily leaving Bishkek. The problem was more getting to somewhere else, but they are two sides of the same 5-som coin and I could not leave until I had somewhere to go.

*Looking south to Bishkek City Hall and the mountains beyond*

It started when I went to the airport two days ago, bound for Almaty, Kazakhstan. After the 40-hour trip to get to Kyrgyzstan, the flight to Almaty was almost an afterthought, only about an hour long and in the same time zone. I was running a bit late, but nothing too serious, as long as everything went well.

“Do you have a visa for Kazakhstan?” the man at the check-in counter asked.

“Americans don’t need a visa for Kazakhstan,” I said.

“Yes, they do.” He finally pulled up the airline website where it said that Kazakhstan had suspended visa-free travel for a list of countries, including the US, until the end of the year as a way to cut down on COVID transmission. I was thinking maybe it was an e-visa I could get quickly, just like I had gotten an e-visa in the Baku airport in about an hour one time. But not only did I need a visa, but also another authorization to travel there as well. In short: I wasn’t going to Kazakhstan that day.

I had known that Kazakhstan sometimes changed their regulations quickly, so I had only planned on two days there. However, I had looked specifically for these types of restrictions for all the countries I was going to visit and had not seen any hint of them. No one I had talked to in Kazakhstan knew anything about this either.

The main problem now was that my flight to Mongolia (through Korea) was leaving from Almaty in two days. It was an Asiana flight and since Asiana didn’t fly to Bishkek, I would have to check out in Almaty and check back in, something I couldn’t do without a visa.

So, the challenge became to find a way to Korea in the next few days. I had to get there before the morning of October 29 since there were only about 1 flight a week to Mongolia. If I missed that flight, I wouldn’t be going there this trip.

I went to a coffee shop in the airport and got a coffee and a pack of cookies. It was the evening, but I didn’t want to go back to the city before I knew when and where I could go. My first problem was getting to Korea. I found a route that would take me there on the 27^th but it went from Bishkek to Turkey to Qatar and then to Korea. Not ideal, but possible. The main problem was that Korea required a quarantine period to enter the country and since I would be changing airlines, I would have to check out and check in again. So, I wasn’t sure how they would handle that: if I could just stay in the airport or if they would require me to quarantine. None of the explanations on the Korean travel website handled my situation.

I also found out that Korea now requires an electronic authorization form to enter the country. It wasn’t something I would have needed if I just had a layover there, but something I might need since I was changing airlines on different tickets. I did the online application and had to book a hotel in Korea to provide an address there where I’d be staying. The application fee was nine dollars, but definitely worth it if it was necessary.

At that point, I decided to go back and get a hotel for the night in Bishkek since it was clear I wouldn’t be going anywhere that night. I booked a room in the Grand Hotel in the northwest part of the city, as close to the airport as possible.

The Grand Hotel was not particularly grand. It was rated as a 4-star hotel, which was overly generous, but it was also $55/night, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. It had a Korean-love-hotel vibe to it (and not the nice ones) and although I had booked it for two nights, I soon decided only to stay one night (especially after I found that the small shampoo/shower gel bottles in the bathroom were not only old and refilled but also slightly dirty.)

The next day, the first thing I did was go to the closest Aqua Lab to get a new COVID test. It was October 26 and the one I had gotten to go to Kazakhstan was expiring that morning. In the time of COVID, a lot depends on getting a COVID test 72 hours before you will arrive at your new destination. This requires some delicate scheduling, as well as a very fast lab, especially when it’s a long trip.

Unfortunately, I realized as I was going there that I would be leaving the next morning. If it was not possible to get same-day results, I wouldn’t be able to fly, meaning I couldn’t get to Korea in time and couldn’t get to Mongolia. The rest of my trip would have to be cancelled for the sake of a few hours.

But thank God for Aqua Labs. The tests were only about $20 and they could do it the same day. In fact, it was ready about 6 hours later. After I got that done, I took a taxi down to the Korean embassy. I wanted to make sure that there wouldn’t be any problems having to quarantine in Korea and I wanted to talk to a person who might know something. After ringing the bell and getting a guard that didn’t really speak English or Korean, I was brought in to talk to a staff member. I was prepared to explain the situation in Korean but the woman there spoke some English. She said it would probably be fine as long as I stayed at the airport and explained that to the people there.

I went back and checked out of the Grand Hotel (only paying for one night, luckily) and immediately went over to the Ramada, where I’d booked a room for the night. It was still cheap by American standards but much nicer and had a desk in the room where I could work. I booked the ticket for the next day and worked on emails for the rest of the day, stopping to walk over to get my COVID test results.

This morning I woke up at 4am and went to the airport. I was the first one in line when they started checking people in for Istanbul, which was probably good. The first question the man asked was, “Where is your Korean visa?”

“I don’t need a Korean visa,” I said, seeing flashbacks to two days before, “but I have this.” I pulled up the electronic authorization on my phone, which had been approved 12 hours after I had submitted it. He took a picture of it and also my ticket to Mongolia and texted it all to the headquarters in Istanbul. And then I waited there at the counter for half an hour. Finally, they said all was well and finally, I was able to leave Bishkek.

*Leaving Bishkek’s Manas Airport early in the morning*

Right now, I’m on a plane to Istanbul. I’ll have a 7-hour layover there, then flying on Qatar Airways to Doha, Qatar for a 4-hour layover. Then I’ll head back east to Korea, where I’ll have about a 15-hour layover in the airport. And then, with luck, I will fly to Mongolia. Kyrgyzstan and Mongolia are only one country apart ,but the trip between them will last somewhere over 50 hours.

And that is the reality of traveling during COVID: long layovers, reduced flights and shifting government regulations. But it’s been very productive so far, so I think it will all be worth it in the end.

4 Comments | tags: Bishkek, coronavirus, COVID-19, Istanbul, Korea, Kyrgyzstan, Mongolia, pandemic travel, Qatar, travel | posted in non-fiction

November 5, 2019

My First Taxi Ride in Mongolia

By David Stewart

Ulaanbaatar traffic

I recently spent eight days in Mongolia and traveled all over the capital city of Ulaanbaatar. Most of the time I just walked. Part of the reason is that with how bad the traffic can be there, it can actually be faster to walk than take a taxi, but also taking a taxi where there is no common language can be very frustrating for many reasons. This is why Uber is so convenient, where it exists. However, I did take a taxi twice in Ulaanbaatar. The second time was to the airport to get my boxes of materials out of customs and walking there wasn’t really an option.

The first time I took a taxi was the first day I was in the country. I had a school visit in the afternoon and got the hotel to call one for me. If I had gone there after I’d been in the country for a while, I would have just walked, even though it was about a mile and a half. However, I did not want to get lost and be late that first day.

I thought that the hotel receptionist had told the taxi driver where I wanted to go but apparently not. Finally, after me saying the name and pointing at the map on my phone, he had me type it into Google maps on his phone and away we went.

We immediately went the opposite direction.

I could see that on my own phone but I had also been in the country 14 hours and there are often weird traffic patterns that I might not know about. I once yelled at a taxi driver in Abu Dhabi for taking me way out of the way, only to find out when I got to the hotel that that was the only way to get there. This piece of knowledge competed in my brain with the equally valid knowledge that this taxi driver knew I was new to the country and he could take me anywhere he wanted and I would have to pay him. Mostly I was worried about being late.

After we’d gone a few blocks in the exact opposite direction, I decided to show him my phone to confirm our route, doing my best non-verbal equivalent of “hey, what’s going on, this doesn’t seem to be the right way” (I don’t remember what that was now). He made a little “ah” noise and then turned onto a bigger road. Okay, all good. I could see on my phone that it connected with another highway that led up near the school. We were good.

He went a little way, then turned off the big road onto a small, congested road that led directly through the city center. His general demeanor was one of “don’t worry, I know what’s going on.”

Mine was one of frustration. Part of the problem was that it is a very helpless feeling sitting in the back of a car in a country that you do not know at all being driven by someone with whom you do not share a common language and who may see you as a rich foreigner who can spare the money to be driven around for an hour or two. Mostly though, I was afraid I was going to be late. I hate to be late, especially for work. I had given myself half an hour to go a mile and a half and now it seemed like I was going to need all of that.

It didn’t help that he turned off the meter at this point. The meter is the friend of a taxi passenger in a foreign country since it is an objective number you can point at when they ask for money. If they “forget” to turn it on or just turn it off, they can ask for any amount they want. The hotel said it should cost about 7000 tugriks for the trip (less than $3 USD), so I decided just to pay that when we got there.

We started making better time and at least we were going in the right direction. It was obvious I was following our progress on the map on our phone, so I thought that had convinced him to stop screwing around and just get there. My impatience was probably pretty evident as the time got closer and closer to the meeting time.

He started tapping away at his phone at one stop, which isn’t very uncommon with taxi drivers. Then he turned and showed me the screen. He had pulled up Google Translate and the screen read, “Please forgive me, I was wrong.”

It’s hard to stay mad at someone after that. I told him it was okay and it all turned out in the end. We got to the school exactly on time and I paid him the 7000 tugriks, which he accepted without complaint.

Still, I walked when I could after that.

3 Comments | tags: Mongolia, taxi, taxi driver, travel, travelogue, Ulaanbaatar | posted in Travelogue

April 3, 2014

I Bought Him Shoes

By David Stewart

This is a flash fiction piece, inspired by a prompt by Eric Alagan. The point is to write a 55-word story about a hobo, but never use that word in the story. Go read his as well; it’s really excellent.

This is based on a true story, but since I only know it secondhand, it may not be entirely accurate. Perhaps the person associated with it will read this and let me know. 🙂

I bought him shoes when he passed through town. He didn’t want a home; said he already had one—with an expansive gesture. But the new Reeboks keep him warm and dry.

He sends emails sometimes, when his meandering journey passes a library.

It’s freezing out now. I trust his wits, but I still pray.

8 Comments | tags: Eric Alagan, fiction, flash fiction, friend, hobo, homeless, shoes, travel | posted in Dusk

March 17, 2014

The Retail Trail

By David Stewart

The Galacto-Mart had a separate postal code—for every department. It was so big that customers could rent small electric cars at the front and high-speed resupply trains ran under the floor. It could be seen from space. It could be seen from the Moon. It was reported to have its own airport somewhere on the east side. It was big, is what I’m trying to say.

I always felt a sense of stomach-churning awe when we drove past the front entrance, built like a modern tower of Babel. We had heard rumors of the fabled toy department, the mecca of all things juvenile, somewhere in the misty expanses beyond Lawn and Garden. It was our dream to see it, just once, but my parents never ventured more than a few hundred meters into the store, just far enough to pick up their prescriptions at the pharmacy, eat at the first food court and maybe grab some groceries from the borderlands of the grocery department. We begged them to visit the whole store, but my dad joked that it made his credit card hurt to think about it.

Finally, we decided to strike out on our own, my brother Kiefer and I. I was twelve and he was ten, so we weren’t babies, although I didn’t want to tell my parents we were going. There were stories of kids who wandered off in Galacto-Mart and just never came back. Rumor had it they turned up years later, wearing store vests and earning minimum wage.

My friend Jonas came too since he had overheard us talking about it and insisted. It’s not really that I didn’t want him to come but Jonas always gave up on things easily and I knew this was going to be an epic trek that would test all our abilities.

We set out one Saturday morning, when mom would be expecting us to go out and play anyway. I left a note for them in the cookie jar, where they would discover it eventually but hopefully not too soon. It was my secret hope that we would be back first, but I wasn’t confident. We took the bus over and then we were there, staring up at the massive building.

“Hi, welcome to Galacto-Mart,” the greeter/customs officer said. She looked over our passports and stamped them. “What department are you headed to today?”

“Toys,” I said.

She got an apologetic look on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. You have to be eighteen to rent an electric car.”

“That’s okay, we’re going to walk.”

She looked shocked. “Walk? That’s near the back. That’s almost to Automotive!”

I just nodded and walked on, Kiefer and Jonas following and trying to look cool. “Do you want me to at least make a hotel reservation for you near the halfway point?” the woman called after me. I ignored her.

At first, it was fun. We bought provisions at the closest food court and set out, hitting a large book section and then a section of party supplies. We sat down in Stationery and ate our lunch on a table we built out of reams of paper.

After Stationery, the journey immediately got awkward. We hit the plus-size lingerie section and although we tried to go around it, it went on and on and we finally dove in. None of us talked as we walked through forests of huge bras and panties. I was blushing and I didn’t dare look at the others to see if they were too.

Finally, we were out and into girls’ socks, which was marginally better. Jonas started making fun of all the patterns and we all started it, pretending we were going to buy girls’ socks and giggling in relief from being away from lingerie.

We finally hit another food court around four in the afternoon. I could tell Jonas wanted to go back and I started to regret bringing him. We ate lasagna and then started again but it was soon clear we couldn’t go much further. Kiefer was lagging and Jonas was complaining and even I was starting to feel that it was getting to be too much. Then up ahead, I saw computer games and I thought we had finally made it. But when I asked a worker, he said that Computer Games were part of Electronics, which was a sub-division of Household Goods, nowhere near Toys. We spent several hours playing with the games until I figured we should get going again.

This time, we didn’t make it far. Jonas was about to turn back on his own, until I reminded him how far we had already walked that day. Kiefer was drifting off on his feet. We made camp in the Menswear department, under a forest of shirts, snuggling into a nest of hockey jerseys.

We were woken up by a worker wielding a hanger and a scanner gun. He almost got me, but I dodged him and we escaped into the boxers aisle.

The rest of the next morning was spent wandering through aisles of dog collars, road salt, beanbags chairs, and the like. Jonas sat down in the beanbag chairs and refused to get up until I threatened to leave him. There were maps along the way and I could tell we were getting close. Then, just before noon, we saw it over a rack of rakes: the Toy department.

It opened up like a valley. On one side was a fluffy mass of pink and white. Unicorns and kittens romped around and behind it, a Barbie’s dream castle towered up. Near it was a castle made of Legos, wooden blocks and other building materials. There were Nerf artillery and machine gun nests on top.

To get in, we had to roll a pair of huge dice and go the number of spaces it said. My space said, “Go right in!” Kiefer’s said, “Go back to plus-size lingerie.” He started crying, so the attendant let him roll again. Jonas’ square said “Go immediately to Barbie’s dream castle”, which didn’t make him too happy.

We had all just gotten in, when an electric car pulled up outside and Mom and Dad got out, looking both worried and furious. They whisked us away and grounded Kiefer and me for a month for running off. Later, when they calmed down a bit, they said maybe we could back to the Toy department for my birthday.

I hope so. I’ll never forget that place, where the streets are paved with Legos.

6 Comments | tags: adventure, funny, Galacto-mart, Lego, quest, quirky, retail, store, toys, trail, travel | posted in Light

October 1, 2013

Happy Surprises: Gosu Cave

By David Stewart

Don’t you love accidental discoveries and happy surprises?

A few weeks ago, I took a trip across Korea by myself. I’m kind of an introvert anyway, but another reason I like traveling alone is the total freedom to do random things when I want. On the first day, I had just gotten off my second intercity bus of the day in the small rural town of Danyang in the deep mountains of central Korea. It was about 4:00pm and when I checked the bus schedule to see what time the bus would be leaving in the morning for the national park I was going to, I noticed the word “cave” in one of the destinations.

I had not known of any caves in the area, but I hadn’t known of anything in the area, and there are few things that get me as excited as caves. I looked it up on my phone and found it was only a kilometer away. So I started walking. And I got there just before it closed.

It was called Gosu Cave and was pretty amazing for something I had never heard of before, after almost nine years in Korea. It was a limestone cave with some stunning features.

Another amazing thing about it was although it was very high, it was also incredibly narrow. This meant that as I walked through it, I was very close to everything. You could even reach out and touch some of the formations, although I felt guilty doing that, after years of warnings never to do that (the oil in your skin can damage the stone and prevent the formations from growing.)

There was almost no one there since it was almost closing time. Interestingly enough, the two groups that went in at the same time as me were Americans. They were some of the only non-Koreans I saw the entire trip.

There were two courses, a slightly shorter one that was more for families and a longer one that included everything open to the public. It took about 45 minutes to go through it.

The longer route featured a formation called Lion Rock, which looked like a lion’s roaring mouth. Unlike some rock formations (like the bear that I could kind of see), it was pretty clear. You can see it here:

However, this cave was not for the claustrophobic. Some places I had to squeeze through, it was so narrow, and even if I didn’t have my big pack on my back, it would have been difficult. In a few places, I had to get down and crawl for a few feet because the ceiling was so low.

I guess it’s true that we don’t necessarily regret missed opportunities all the time, since we don’t know what we missed, but I am glad things worked out to go here. There was another cave up the valley from this one that I tried to go to the next day, but it was a national holiday (Chuseok) so the cave didn’t open until 12:30 and I couldn’t wait that long. I’ll just assume it wasn’t as good as this one.

Just to prove that I didn’t get these pictures off the Internet.

12 Comments | tags: caves, Gosu cave, hiking, Korea, photograph, travel | posted in Korea

September 19, 2013

Being Home for Chuseok

By David Stewart

I remember our first year in Korea, long ago in 2002. We came in late August and a few weeks later, we found out that we had a few days off, for a holiday called Chuseok. I remember that a Korean woman at church was arranging a trip to an amusement park for a lot of the foreigners because, she said, “it must be so hard to be away from your family on Chuseok.”

A traditional Chuseok scene. The message says: “Wishing you a Chuseok as bountiful as the full moon.”

Hard to be away from my family on Chuseok? Not particularly, since I had just found out about the holiday a few days before.

But for Koreans, Chuseok is a big deal. It is one of the two biggest holidays of the year, along with the ~~Chinese~~ Lunar New Year. It falls on August 15 (according to the lunar calendar) which means that it always coincides with the full moon.

There are several traditions at Chuseok. The main activity, like Thanksgiving, is to get together with family and eat a lot and hang out. For this reason, men and children love it, and women usually dread it. They see it as a time of pretty much non-stop cooking, which it is for them.

People dress up in hanbok (traditional Korean clothes: see the above picture), sometimes play traditional games, and also give gifts. Gifts are usually given between families, however, or to co-workers, and are usually gift sets of food or other things.

The other traditions are cleaning the graves of ancestors, along with memorial rites. As well, the whole family gets together to make songpyeon, which are steamed rice cakes with sugar and sesame seeds inside. They are steamed with pine needles, which gives them a bit of a different taste (although not much).

Songpyeon made by hand are not this neat, usually.

For me, as a foreigner, the main thing I notice about Chuseok (besides the days off work) is the traffic. It is getting better these days with better highways, but still Chuseok traffic is usually a nightmare. I took several buses over to the central part of Korea yesterday and got to the bus terminal several hours early to make sure I could get a ticket.

The thing about the traffic is that because of the geography and population distribution, the traffic is usually only horrendous in one direction. At the beginning of the holiday, everyone is trying to leave Seoul and go south, so if you go north, it’s not that bad. At the end, everyone is trying to get back up north to Seoul, so it’s reversed. Luckily, we live in the south, so we can usually avoid the worst of it (I saw on the news that two nights ago in Seoul, there were hundreds of people waiting for buses and the buses were delayed up to 3-4 hours).

In any case, Chuseok for us is just a time off work, to relax, and travel, perhaps. I hope you have a happy Chuseok today as well.

11 Comments | tags: Chuseok, culture, Family, holiday, Korea, Seoul, Songpyeon, Thanksgiving, travel | posted in Korea

May 17, 2013

Home at Last – Fantastic Travelogue #19

By David Stewart

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

Synopsis: I was hiking in the mountains of Korea when I found myself in another world. I met a young woman there named Ain-Mai. We eventually got captured, along with her brother Sing-ga, by a sorceress named Hengfel, who took us to her world. We got away from her and hid in the air tunnels of her fortress. Sing-ga died after being attacked by small spider-like creatures. Ain-Mai and I came in contact with a woman named Klista, who explained to us that she was part of the royal family of a race that used to own the tower where Hengfel was now living, but had been driven into exile by the invaders. She agreed to help us and with her followers, went with us back into the tower to find the key to get back to Ain-Mai’s world, and then to mine. There was a battle with Hengfel’s dragons, but we defeated them and used the stone circle to go back to Ain-Mai’s world.

Home at Last

We will standing once more on the stone circle in the forest clearing where I had first met Ain-Mai. It had only been about a week before, but it seemed like months. It was early evening and the clearing was deserted, which was just as well. Anyone who had seen us appear—especially Chirik in his current blood-soaked condition—would have been scared out of their senses.

“Is this your world?” Klista asked, and Ain-Mai nodded. “This is the only way for those such as Hengfel to come here, and I will take it with me and destroy it.” She held up the medallion. “When we leave, I would suggest you destroy this stone circle.”

“There are servants of Hengfel that are still here,” Ain-Mai said. “They will try to stop us.”

“They are now stranded here with no help from their own world. They will not be too hard to deal with, I think.”

I gave Ain-Mai a hug, not knowing the proper etiquette in her world. “I won’t forget you,” I said. “I am sorry for everything you went through.”

She kissed my hand. “Thank you again for saving me, in the room with the dragons and the cages,” she said. “I will remember you always.” She took off the bracelet that allowed us to talk and gave it to Klista, Then, with a final bow, she turned and walked away into the trees.

“Now I will bring you home and I can get back to more important matters,” Klista said to me in English. I said good-bye to Chirik and Bruce, and to the weird ghilzhi creature too, since he was there. Then Klista touched me on the shoulder and the world went black.

A moment later, there were trees all around, very much like in Ain-Mai’s world, although there was something familiar in the scent of the plants.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“I don’t know; somewhere in your world,” Klista said. “I just brought you to the area of your world that was closest to that last one. It’s probably near where you left. Will you be okay from here?” I nodded. “So,” she continued, “are you going to tell people about this?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, although I was already mentally planning how I would write the story.

She smiled. “That’s okay; yours is a skeptical time. No one would believe you anyway.” She held up her hand in farewell and then disappeared in a small flash of light.

It’s odd how you can get used to living in fantastic circumstances. Now that I was back, the sheer banality of my life seemed to come crashing down on me and I felt a bit depressed. I had gotten my original clothes before I had left Klista’s mansion and now I changed back into them. All except the boots, one of which was wrecked beyond repair. I was on a path and I limped slowly down it until I came to a Buddhist temple. I was hoping to sit down for a bit and relax before asking where I was, but my appearance caused quite a stir.

“Are you the foreigner that has been missing in the mountains for over a week?” one of the monks asked me. Once they found that I was, they asked all kinds of questions, most of which I could not answer without sounding insane, such as “Where were you this whole time?” Still, they brought me in and gave me food and drink. A while later, the police came and asked me most of the same questions, plus more. It seems that the owner of the lodge where I had left my pack had reported me missing. I put off their questions as best as I could or gave such incoherent answers that they eventually gave up and attributed my condition to shock. They offered to drive me to the nearest city to buy more shoes and catch a bus back home.

Just as I was leaving the temple, I noticed that the base of the stupa in the main courtyard looked familiar. It was an old carved stone circle about a foot high. With a thrill of excitement, I realized it looked very much like the one in Ain-Mai’s world. I pointed it out to the senior monk who was walking with us.

“That is very old,” he said. “It comes from before this temple was built. Why do you ask?”

“I think I have seen one like it before,” I said.

“Ah, then you are fortunate,” he said with a strange smile and bowed deeply. I left not knowing what to make of it.

Three hours later, I was sitting at a bus terminal, wearing new shoes in the biggest size they could find, which were still horribly tight on me, and thinking about my life: my normal, day-to-day life. I missed my wife and wanted to get home to her as soon as I could. She had sobbed when I called to tell her I was okay, something very uncharacteristic for her. I wanted to be there, to be able to put my arms around her and comfort her.

I needed to go home—wanted to too, of course, but still, part of me wanted to be back there. Back where I could flit to another world on a stone circle, where there was uncommon dangers and I had rescued a girl from dragons, even if I had paid for it later with pain and injury. No one might believe my story, but I know the truth of it, and I knew that it had changed me.

The End

1 Comment | tags: Fantastic Travelogue, fantasy, fiction, Klista, other worlds, travel, travelogue | posted in Travelogue

May 13, 2013

The Battle of the Stone Circle Room – Fantastic Travelogue #18

By David Stewart

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

Synopsis: I was hiking in the mountains of Korea when I found myself in another world. I met a young woman there named Ain-Mai. We eventually got captured, along with her brother Sing-ga, by a sorceress named Hengfel, who took us to her world. We got away from her and hid in the air tunnels of her fortress. Sing-ga died after being attacked by small spider-like creatures. Ain-Mai and I found our way to the outside of the huge fortress where we sheltered in a small hollow. I woke up to find a small winged creature looking at me. He brought us up the mountain and through a portal into a beautiful area where we were taken care of. A woman named Klista explained to us that she was part of the royal family of a race that used to own the tower where Hengfel was now living, but had been driven into exile by the invaders. She agreed, with the help of her assistant, Bruce Riansson, and someone named Chirik, to help us get home. Soon after that, Klista transported us back to Hengfel’s fortress.

The Battle of the Stone Circle Room

When I could see again, I saw that we were in the huge stone circle room in Hengfel’s fortress. Klista was already striding towards the far wall with Bruce Riansson by her side. Chirik was to one side, his warhammer poised and ready.

Ain-Mai was tugging at my hand. “Come on, we have to keep up with them.”

Klista evidently knew where she was going. She was heading straight for a narrow stairway along the side of the room. We were about halfway there when the first dragon noticed us. It flew up from one of the trenches that bordered the room, just to our left, and was about to keep going when it saw us. It curved in midair, coming at Ain-Mai and me with open jaws. Chirik was fifty feet away on the other side of us.

At that moment, I would never have believed that I had even punched one of these in the face if I hadn’t remembered it, and the experience didn’t make me any less afraid. I was about to run when Chirik leapt in front of us and swung the warhammer up and into the head of the dragon. The dragon seemed to evaporate in front of the hammer and a moment later, the headless body fell twitching to the ground.

“Stay near me,” Chirik said and jogged to catch up with Klista and Bruce. We did not need any encouragement.

“Up here is where the medallions used to be kept,” Klista said. “Let’s hope that they have not changed things.” She began to climb the long, curving stair and Bruce followed her. Chirik climbed next, so Ain-Mai and I followed him.

“Do you remember the pattern on the medallion that Hengfel had?” I asked Ain-Mai.

“I have never gotten a good look at it,” she replied. “Do you?”

“I think so; at least I remember a snaky pattern on it. I didn’t say anything, since I don’t know how similar they all are.”

We reached the top of the stair and entered a room. It seemed small after the huge emptiness of the stone circle room, but it was still as big as a large classroom. The walls were covered with medallions, hundreds of them, and while this was rather distressing, what caught my attention immediately was the large lizard-like creature crouched it in the middle of the room. It was bent over and glowed red and spoke with a hissing, sibilant voice.

“What are you doing here?” it asked. “Who are you?”

“You should know who I am, ghilzhi, or at least whom I represent. This is our fortress and our medallions and I am taking back what is mine.”

The creature seemed suddenly nervous. “I see that you have returned, my lady, but it is no good. Hengfel owns this fortress now and there is no resistance against her.”

“We will see,” Klista said. “Right now, in recognition of the ancient harmony between our races, please do not hinder us in finding what we need.”

“She will kill me,” the creature, which was apparently called a ghilzhi, said.

“Then come with us,” Klista said. “You can be an ambassador to your people, to join in the resistance.”

The ghilzhi did not say anything, but stood aside. Klista moved over to the wall and surveyed the medallions.

“I think I remember a little of what the design looked like,” I said, out loud. “It had a snake-like design on it.”

Klista nodded. “Okay, come stand by me and tell me if you see one that looks familiar.”

Although there were probably a thousand medallions on the walls, not all of them looked recently used. Most of them were covered with dust and only several rows near the door looked clean and bright. We started to go through these one by one.

“My lady, I hate to tell you that Hengfel has been alerted of your presence,” the ghilzhi said. “She is on her way to the room below.” Klista only nodded and continued to go through the medallions.

When we had gone through them all, there were only two that Klista had not been to before that looked like the pattern I remembered.

“This is going to be interesting,” Chirik said, looking out the door. “There is more than one dragon outside.”

Klista walked through the door and onto the stairs. I went through and looked down, bracing myself for the sight of five or ten dragons flying around. I almost gasped out loud when I saw that the room was filled with hundreds of dragons; not flying, but standing on the floor or hanging off the walls. In the middle of the floor was Hengfel, sitting on her huge, red dragon.

“Should we flee?” Bruce asked.

“Not yet,” Klista said. “I will give Chirik a chance to prove himself.” She started to walk down the stair.

“How dare you return here?” Hengfel called out. I first thought she was talking to me, but then I realized she was talking to Klista. “You have lost and now you come back with a handful of nothings, including a few of my slaves? Even with an army you could do nothing but die.”

“She called us slaves,” I said to Ain-Mai. She was radiating hatred towards Hengfel and did not reply.

“I don’t need an army; I have him,” Klista said, gesturing to Chirik.

A dragon launched itself off the wall above and plummeted straight towards us. Just before it reached us, Chirik leapt and grabbed it by the neck. He flipped it like a hammer and used its momentum to propel himself far out into the room. The dragons all leaped to the attack. Soon he had disappeared beneath the bodies, but I saw him kill five of them before he hit the floor.

Klista grabbed my hand and in a flash, Klista, Bruce, Ain-Mai, the ghilzhi and I were all standing in the center of the room, with dragons all around us. Klista held up one of the medallions and I felt a power growing around us. It worked faster than when Hengfel had done it, which was good. A nearby dragon had just started to charge us when we disappeared.

I almost choked as hot air seared my lungs. We were standing on a stone circle on top of a high peak. In the distance, volcanoes erupted constantly and lava rivers flowed in the valley below us. The air was thick with ash.

Klista concluded fairly quickly that this was not the right world and a moment I felt a vibration of energy go through me and the world went black.

We were back in the huge stone circle room, but even though it seemed as only a few seconds had passed, there were much fewer dragons. Then I saw Chirik. The warhammer was spinning so fast I could barely see it. The whole room was a scene of carnage and now most of the dragons that were left alive were up in the air, flying around in confusion or fleeing to the walls. Hengfel’s dragon was high in the air.

Chirik stopped when he saw us and walked over. He was a mess of blood and bits of dragon scales but he was grinning. He barely looked tired. Klista merely nodded and gave him a small smile.

“We will go now,” Klista shouted, “but we will return, you can depend on it. In the meantime, here is one world you will never be able to reach again.” Klista held up the medallion to Ain-Mai’s world. The last thing I heard before we disappeared was Hengfel’s scream of rage.

(to be concluded…)

6 Comments | tags: battle, Bruce Riansson, Chirik, dragon, Fantastic Travelogue, fantasy, fiction, Klista, other worlds, travel, travelogue | posted in Travelogue

May 8, 2013

Peregrine’s Bar – Friday Fictioneers

By David Stewart

Peregrine’s Bar

Peregrine’s Bar was open once a month, but on that one day, the place was packed for seventeen hours straight, as patrons crowded in to hear about Peregrine’s latest adventure.

“…and that’s why the Kayan chief gave me this tattoo.” The bar erupted in applause. “Give me five minutes and I’ll tell you about the panther attack I survived.”

“Hey Peregrine, where to next?”

“Kazakhstan.” The crowd oohed appreciatively.

Peregrine closed up at dawn, having made enough in one day to finance his search for another month. The kidnappers had said he would never find her. He’d prove them wrong.

53 Comments | tags: bar, fiction, flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, kidnapping, peregrine, search, travel | posted in Dusk

May 6, 2013

The Invasion Begins – Fantastic Travelogue #17

By David Stewart

Sometimes you have some amazing adventures you just have to tell everyone about. Read the rest of this account here.

Synopsis: I was hiking in the mountains of Korea when I found myself in another world. I met a young woman there named Ain-Mai. We eventually got captured, along with her brother Sing-ga, by a sorceress named Hengfel, who took us to her world. We got away from her and hid in the air tunnels of her fortress. Sing-ga died after being attacked by small spider-like creatures. Ain-Mai and I found our way to the outside of the huge fortress where we sheltered in a small hollow. I woke up to find a small winged creature looking at me. He brought us up the mountain and through a portal into a beautiful area where we were taken care of. A woman named Klista explained to us that she was part of the royal family of a race that used to own the tower where Hengfel was now living, but had been driven into exile by the invaders. She agreed, with the help of her assistant, Bruce Riansson, and someone named Chirik, to help us get home.

The Invasion Begins

Ever since I had gotten lost while hiking and found myself in another world, there had been a lot of firsts in my life: the first time I had ever traveled between worlds; the first time I had ever seen a dragon; the first time I had ever punched a dragon; the first time I had ever ridden on a giant silky, white spider; and after meeting Chirik, the first time I had ever seen a giant.

Bruce had left the room and returned a moment later, accompanied by a man at least eight feet tall, with long brown hair that hung down to his waist. It took a moment before I realized that his eyes glowed faintly green as well.

“Bruce said that the campaign was beginning at last, my lady,” Chirik said. He spoke out loud in an unknown language, but the meaning came through into my mind as well.

“Yes, are you ready?” Klista asked.

Chirik pulled a small hammer out of his belt, which grew into a seven-foot-long warhammer as he held it. “There is nothing else I require.”

“Good. Uh, get to know each other,” Klista said. She motioned towards us and walked out, followed by Bruce. Chirik sat down on the floor, cross-legged with the warhammer on his knees.

“What do you do?” he asked, looking at me.

“I’m a teacher,” I said, not sure what he meant. “I teach . . . language.”

“Do you know the language of our enemy?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked. I still wasn’t totally used to the mental communication through the bracelets we were all wearing, but I could tell that he was blunt, but not necessarily trying to be rude.

“I got lost,” I said, feeling slightly stupid.

“We were captured by the enemy and escaped. He rescued me,” Ain-Mai said. She mentally told him the story, and I saw images of myself through her eyes as I jumped from cage to cage to get her and then fought my way back past attacking dragons. I should have been proud, but from her perspective, I thought I looked rather ridiculous and I started to blush.

Chirik chuckled and nodded in satisfaction. “Brave, but there is a better way.” He patted the warhammer. “You took a lot of hurt as well. How are you going to go with us, if you still cannot walk?”

I wasn’t sure about that either but I slid off the floating platform where I was sitting and tentatively tried a step. Most of the pain was gone and although I probably couldn’t have run, I found that I could walk around fairly well.

Ain-Mai and I sat with Chirik in the water-room for several hours. After a while, Chirik seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, none of which he shared with us.

“I am sorry again for what happened to Sing-ga,” I said, turning to Ain-Mai.

She just nodded and I could tell she was trying to keep her thoughts from me. Finally, she said, “It’s not your fault. None of the other men that Hengfel has captured have come back either. Sing-ga will not be any different so it is okay.” I thought this was odd logic, but I hoped she found comfort in it.

Several hours later, Klista returned with Bruce Riansson. She sat down and immediately put her feet in the water. “We are about to begin,” she said. “It will just be the five of us, although these two—” she motioned to Ain-Mai and me “—have no purpose but to go home. This is a quick invasion and a test, so if there is any fighting to be done, I am hoping you can handle it, Chirik.” Chirik indicated wordlessly that he would be overjoyed to do all the fighting himself.

I was thinking that we would have to start at the top of the tower, where we had entered this place, and make our way down the side and back through all the tunnels, retracing the path that Ain-Mai and I had taken. My thoughts must have been more transparent than I imagined, because Klista shook her head at me. “I don’t use doors and stone circles when I travel. We will go directly to the large stone circle room, and we will find which world to send you to. The system there uses medallions: one for each world it goes to. I know I have never been to your world before—” Klista motioned to Ain-Mai “—so I just need to eliminate all the ones I have been to and see what is left.”

“What if there are a lot you haven’t been to?” I asked.

“Then we will be there a while,” Klista said. “I have just spent the last few hours memorizing the medallion symbols for all 814 worlds I have been to. There is a good chance there will not be many more there that I have never been to.”

I shouldn’t have asked, but the question slipped out before I could stop it. “How many worlds are there in all?”

“About 48,000 that I know about,” Klista said, “but there will not be more than a hundred medallions there, I would think. Now, let us go. When we get there, you two, stay near me. We may have to leave in a hurry. Now hold hands.”

I took Ain-Mai’s hand and then felt Chirik’s huge hand clamp onto my shoulder. Klista touched Ain-Mai and Bruce. There was a flash and the room around us disappeared.

(to be continued…)