Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

After a tumultuous journey on a part-filled ferry , the weary but excited traveler finally launches himself upon the Continent, devouring every sight he can possibly manage. And the trusty (and excessively massive) travel guidebook has certainly not failed me when I am deciding on what route and sights to take in at every destination. But as I mentioned so many times before , traveling is a human experience , and the feelings and attitudes behind the sights to be visited tops the list of definitive memories. And after three days and four countries, the traveler would like to share a few impressions not found in the travel guides... (1) Red Light Districts are highly over-rated, really. The establishment has been a matter of imagination for people everywhere, especially in certain parts of Asia where the practice is, eh, a bit more "discreet ." Watching scantily clad girls moving about behind a window under a red light in some narrow alleys, really, is amusing only for ab

It is sometimes shocking that sometimes, a single bus ride can leave a lasting impression that can hardly be ever changed. The situation is just long enough for certain views to be formed, but at the same time short enough for the views to be highly generalized stereotypes, most often confirming previously held second-hand impressions and stories. Yet, even as the traveler is typing away on his laptop on the hard ground of Brussels Central Train Station, at a savagely unmitigated 3-degrees-Celsius wind at 6:30am, somehow the impressions just stick in the mind more than anything else. For some reason, a quiet midnight journey on the cross-Channel ferry from Dover to Calais, tonight, was turned into a madly drunk 3-hour party by a horde of British and French high school students, nominally on some sort of school trip, but with no obvious parental or teacher supervision, seemed to be bent on spreading their notoriety far and wide on the Continent. From the second we the passengers got

The winter break at the LSE officially begins on the 10th of December, and with it my month-long required absence from London (my dorm building, unfortunately, would not accommodate its residents without extra fees for the duration of the break). Instead of paying extra to stay in a London without classes and assignments, a long-needed temporary exodus from the rainy metropolis is being "planned," or more in line with reality, itching to be enforced as a matter of purely spontaneous exploration of epic proportions. Week-long solo backpacking trip for me is not anything new for me, but the ambition regarding the upcoming trip due to begin in days, even in my mind, tops all previous ventures by its sheer magnitude. The longest previous trip was mere 2 and a half weeks affair (San Diego to Fairbanks, Alaska by bus), and the most number of borders crossed was no more than 4 (A southern China bus/boat trip that also involved Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwan). But this one, with 4 c

One of the best things about heading to parties here at the LSE is that there is simply no guarantee what sort of exciting people one would meet. Especially in house parties organized by a few housemates from different countries and backgrounds, when they all bring their friends to the party, the house simply turns into a little United Nations. One hears of stories, whether it be work, travel, living in foreign lands and situations, that one previously perhaps only exist in imaginations, or maybe in ways that one have never even really thought about... For my part, I do my best to contribute to the unique blend of international story-telling at these parties, but often faces a dilemma. As an Asian, I am often tempted to tell the many unique, interesting, and sometimes truly thought-provoking stories I experienced from being Asian and living in Asia, but I often find myself fighting a lonely battle on that front...that is, I am going out that task with absolutely no back-up whatsoeve