Summer is over... You wouldn't know it, as the weather is as hot as ever, and the cicadas are just as deafeningly loud as they have been. Recently, a large praying mantis has taken up residence in our flowers just next to the entrance. I don't know whether or not that's good luck or bad, but I like the guy so I'm going to let him stay for a while.

We've also returned from our second major trip overseas this year. For two weeks in the beginning of August, Bonnie and I traveled to Malaysia for three days (in Kuala Lumpur) and about two weeks in Europe, specifically the Czech Republic.

Well, here's the scoop. As I'm writing this, I don't have the photos to publish yet, so for now it's text only. As soon as I can, I'll try to throw some pictures from our trip up on the site, so you can get an idea of where we were. But first, the basics. The flight from Japan to Kuala Lumpur is 6 hours, (not too bad), and the flight from KL to Vienna, Austria, is 12 hours (a lot worse)... The only thing that made it bearable, was the sleek new fleet of Boeing 777-200 planes flown by Malaysian Airlines. Unlike other, older aircraft, the best feature is a personal LCD display screen for every passenger on the plane, and not just for the lucky dogs up in First Class. This means, built into your seat, you have a removable "remote control" that allows you to select from a variety of entertainment options, including, movies, TV shows, documentaries, in-flight exercise video, CD albums, in-house-radio stations, video games and a myriad of other presentations related to your trip or flight, such as current, up-to-the-minute flight information, altitude, ground speed, air temperature, and estimated time of arrival. So if you have a child who likes to keep asking, "Are we there yet?" You can give a definitive answer: "Exactly three hours and 10 minutes, kiddo... So you'd better play another game of tetris." The nice part is, on some of the flights (but not on others) you have full control over what to watch and WHEN to watch it... So if you want to start your movie following an hour-long snooze, you can... And when those two beers and gin & tonic hit your bladder, just punch the "pause" button on your remote control, and stretch out your legs while you wait in the long, lavatory lineup.

The most interesting, quirky part about flying to Malaysia is the mention of the country's infamous zero-tolerance drug smuggling laws. The only time it ever gets announced to the passengers, is about a half-hour prior to landing in Malaysia, with such a shocking air of nonchalance, one can't help but snicker nervously as it's integrated into the rest of the pilot (or co-pilot's) pre-descent spiel.

"Good afternoon from the flight deck, ladies and gentlemen. This is Captain Browning speaking. We hope you've been enjoying a pleasant flight with us today. In just a few moments' time we will begin our descent to KLIA, the current temperature is partly cloudy and a warm 32 degrees. If you haven't done so already, you may wish to take a moment to adjust your watches to the local time, which is currently 4:45 pm. Just as a reminder to you, Malaysia does practice a zero tolerance policy to the import of illegal drugs, which carries a mandatory death sentence. Once again, from the cabin crew and on behalf of Malaysian Airlines, thank you for flying with us today, we hope to see you again soon, and have a great afternoon."

One can't help but wonder if such an announcement would be somewhat more useful before actually boarding the plane. Or would that be too obvious? As soon as they advise you of the Malaysian drug laws at the check-in counter, you quickly excuse yourself... "Um.... Sorry, I just remembered.... I have to... uh... get my uh... toothbrush out of my suitcase. Be back in a jiffy!"
Well, given the recent incidents with people claiming drugs were planted in their bags by corrupt baggage handlers, I couldn't resist the urge to "look for my cellphone" when my bag came off the carousel, and before I proceeded through customs. Only problem is, what would be the correct course of action IF you should find something to be amiss?

KLIA is about 40 minutes away from the city centre, and for the uninitiated, it's a comfortable, corrupt, taxicab ride away... A mob of people waiting at the arrival gate will helpfully ensure you have adequate transportation from the airport. Dozens of hotel shuttle-busses have people holding signs for those who happen to have arranged for such transportation, and throngs of other men ready to whisk you away to a "limousine booking" counter where they will relieve you of at least double the cost of a regular taxi, promising a limousine (that's mini-van for you Westerners) and a return-trip back to the airport at the end of your holiday (unnecessary, given the number of taxis in downtown KL). We narrowly avoided making this mistake by talking to a number of people and figuring out the scam before we purchased a "government-sanctioned" taxi ticket to our hotel, for a "fair" (government-set) price.

Bonnie's request for our sojourn in Kuala Lumpur was that we stay in a nice hotel, spending a bit of money (within reason) and enjoy some of the amenities a traveler rarely gets to enjoy in budget hotels. The hotel we chose was called the Mines Beach Resort and Spa -- a four-star hotel located on the shores of an man-made lake, in Mines City, about a 30-minute drive from Kuala Lumpur's city centre. It's cousin, the Palace of the Golden Horses, is a majestic five-star hotel situated on the opposite side of the lake, offering the most luxurious rooms imaginable, and frequently catering to visiting dignitaries, royalty and foreign diplomats. We had the fortune of sharing amenities with the other hotel, which was only a water-taxi ride away, giving us access to their swimming pool and other facilities. In addition, a large shopping centre was right next to our hotel, giving us a chance to sample Malaysia's shopping and dining experience almost immediately upon our arrival.

Since this was a short trip, I will endeavor to keep this blog entry equally brief, pointing out some of the highlights. As much as I enjoy writing our stories, I'm afraid that I have a tendency to become rather long-winded, and a half-hour quickly becomes a week, and I find myself still relating a single event which may have taken no more than several hours to experience in the first place. The rest of the details will have to be saved for a visit in person, either by virtue of a Japanese holiday for some of you, or us making a trip back to Canada.

Anyhow, after spending a pleasant, air-conditioned evening in our hotel, having indulged in room service, eating absolutely the most horrible, burnt, tougher-than-leather hamburger I've ever had the misfortune of tasting, we set out the next morning, ready to hit the city hard and find out what KL was all about. We took the hotel's shuttle bus to the base of the Petronas Towers, downtown, which is where we began our trek. The posh, unbelievably expensive shopping mall which made up the base of the towers was indeed interesting, perusing dozens of designer boutiques: Prada, Burberry, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, just to name a few. Quickly realizing that this was not the place for us, we made a quick exit and decided to look around on our own for awhile. Unfortunately, KL isn't like some of the other cities I've seen, like Tokyo or Prague or even Paris, where a walking-tour of the city's centre is a worthwhile endeavor. That's not to say it cannot be done here, but we weren't making much headway. After about an hour of walking, we hadn't seen anything but stinky, overcrowded roads, and tall, plebeian skyscrapers. We finally decided to try and get a guided tour of what was worth seeing or visiting. Quickly ducking into the Sheraton Hotel, which just happened to be nearby, we "borrowed" the concierge, who kindly gave us some brochures for a tour company and the services they offered. Since we were not in our own hotel, which was far away at this point, we decided which tour we wanted to go on, figured out how to use a payphone, and rang up the company. They gave us a meeting time and place, which was in front of yet another hotel in the vicinity. A few hours later, we found ourselves in the back of an air-conditioned sedan, being driven around by a local, and being shown all the best parts of KL. It was explained to us that small, private tours are now in-vogue, and having a personal tour-guide show us the city in his car was commonplace, and much more pleasant for the clients (us) -- something I would definitely agree with.

Our first stop was the Batu Caves, a site outside the city limits, which is essentially a place of Hindu worship. Some of you may have seen a glimpse of the caves on shows like Ripley's Believe It or Not, when they show scenes from the yearly mortification ritual where pilgrims skewer their bodies with sharp meathook-like implements attached to cords, which are kept taut by other pilgrims, as they ascend the 272 stone steps leading to the entrance of the caves, carrying items like heavy jugs in an effort to curry favour from the gods for their acts of penance.

After this, we visited a pewter factory, whose operations were explained to us in a rapid, impersonal, almost reticent manner, before we were let loose in the factory showroom, under the watchful eye of several grandiloquent employees, whose bored expressions were likely directly correlated to the number of customers in the store, and who were accustomed to a much richer, turgid clientele. Nevertheless, we purchased several items for our display cabinet -- a pewter sake set consisting of a jug and three cups.

On our tour we also stopped to monkey with a rubber tree from what used to be a rubber plantation. The dried sap on the tree bark being a source of cheap amusement as we stopped to have our photo taken under the shade of its branches. The tour guide then explained to us the process of transforming the sap into usable rubber, as well as the economic implications of the invention of artificial rubber and the necessity of Malaysia's eventual change from having been a major supplier of the world's natural rubber.

Then, we stopped at a Batik workshop, watching how artists create the multicoloured floral cloth patterns which make Malaysia famous. This, unfortunately, is where Bonnie had her prescription sunglasses stolen, having left them somewhere and a light-fingered employee having picked them up after we departed. No amount of phone calls, pleas or even threats from our tour guide were able to recover them. I sincerely hope that our guide made good on his promise that his company would no longer take their clients to that shop as a result.

We then saw a traditional leather-tanning factory and shop, whose products were much too expensive for reasonable consideration, although I never knew you could make leather products from exotic animals like stingrays or ostriches. Following this, we made our way to Independence Square, which is where Malaysia celebrated the end of a hundred years of British colonial rule in 1957. This also near KL's oldest Anglican church, the National Mosque, and other major sites.

Our next-to-final stop was the Menara Kuala Lumpur tower -- Malaysia's version of the CN Tower in Toronto. The view was great and since the Petronas Towers are closed on Mondays, we couldn't go up there to take a look around. This officially concluded our tour but our guide said he was willing to drop us off anywhere in the area, so we chose Chinatown. This is the best place to do some shopping when in KL. Absolutely everything for sale -- absolutely everything's cheap and absolutely everything's FAKE. I've never seen such a large collection of counterfeit designer label clothing, jewelry, accessories, handbags, watches, perfume, DVDs, CDs, and anything else you could imagine buying in a high-priced shopping mall. The look-alikes are quite remarkable -- the lads over in Korea or China who produce these things do a very good job making everything look as authentic as possible. However even the shopkeepers don't try to pretend that what they are selling is real. Everyone knows what it is -- it's only a matter of how much you're willing to pay for that fake Rolex or those look-alike Levis jeans.

I could write an entire five-page blog entry about KL's Chinatown alone, but I will satisfy myself with just one story in our two trips to this alien place. When our tour guide dropped us off, he cautioned us about never paying anything more than half of the asking price for any of the items on sale. One discovers very quickly that even this is not a good rule, as many items can be purchased for much less than that even. One young entrepreneur tried to unload a knockoff pastel Louis Vuitton purse on me for 300 RM (Ringgits) which is about $100 Canadian. I got him down to a measly $16 as he snatched my 50 RM note with a look of disgust and tossed the purse at me. Bonnie felt even a little sorry for the guy until I told her that unless he made at least SOME money on me he wouldn't have sold me the item at all -- it's just that I took a bigger chunk out of his margin than what he would've liked.

Anyway, we were browsing through the congested street lined with street stalls and packed with all sorts of people, the din of dozens people jabbering away in at least four languages simultaneously, when I stopped in front a card table laden with DVD covers in a binder. I started flipping through the binder when the table's owner, a young Malaysian - perhaps 18 or so, urged me,

"Don't look at that.... I'll take you to my shop. I have a much bigger selection than that! Come with me -- it's not far from here."

I was reluctant. "I dunno, man. I've got my wife here looking at stuff. I shouldn't leave her."

"No, it's O.K. My shop's not far. You'll see."

"Nah, I don't think so. I don't want to lose my wife. There's lots of people here."

"You won't lose her. Just let her shop and I'll take you right back here when we're done."

I was still reluctant, but against my better judgment I agreed. Bonnie was a little surprised but didn't say anything other than a quick warning to the young Malaysian that he'd better not take longer than 10 minutes or she would go looking for me.

"Don't worry. My shop's not far. I'll take your husband there and then straight back. In one piece too. You'll see."

We set off. The next thing I knew I was jogging behind this Malaysian black-market DVD dealer, ducking through alleyways, behind shops, past trash bags, through side streets, until we arrived at a Chinese restaurant. "Great," I thought. "We'll go in there and the next thing I know, I'll have five Chinese guys jump out from nowhere, beat the crap outta me and steal all my money."

We entered the restaurant. The Malaysian was still moving quickly. "Come on, this way," he beckoned as he walked through the dining room and into the kitchen area. "Come on..."

"Ok," I thought. Any time now.... But he kept going and kept telling me to follow, until we ended up at the back of the Chinese restaurant. I looked around, my eyes adjusting from the bright contrast of the kitchen to the low light of the area we were standing in. Sure enough, confirming my worst fears, five Chinese guys came out from nowhere. But before I even had a chance to react, my Malaysian guide jabbered something in Cantonese to them, presumably telling them that I was alright and that I came with him.

As I looked around, I saw boxes and boxes just stuffed to the brim with DVDs in Mylar pouches. My Malaysian guide took me over to a box and said,

"Just start going through the boxes. Take out any DVDs you're interested in. When you're done I'll give you a good price."

So, I did as he said, flipping through boxloads of movies, many of which I hadn't even heard of, since they had just barely made it onto the big screen in North America, let alone DVD, let alone movie theatres in Japan. I picked out a sampling of movies, making sure to stay within my budget, and paying the Malaysian, who promptly spat out some more Cantonese at the Chinese guys as he gave them my money. He then proceeded to put my purchase into an opaque, black, plastic bag, thanking me, and leading me back to where we started -- ducking through the same alleys and back streets we took the first time. As promised, only 10 minutes had elapsed, with Bonnie too engrossed in her own shopping and haggling to even worry about the fact that I had just returned. In one piece. As promised.

Spending only three days in Malaysia is not nearly enough as you might well imagine. Our second day we decided not to do much of anything and were satisfied with lounging by the hotel's artificial lagoon and taking the water-taxi to the fancy pool at the Palace of the Golden Horses. In the evening we got together with Bonnie's cousin who happened to be living and working in KL with his family for a stint. They were very much Canadian, but rapidly getting used to their new lifestyle, having spent a year there already. The third and final day we shopped some more in Chinatown and spent the day going around KL.

We finally caught a taxi to the airport at about 8 p.m., ready to board our 11 p.m. flight for the next leg of our holiday -- the Czech Republic. Here's the real kicker though. Arriving at the airport just before 9, we were informed that our flight was delayed until 6 a.m., meaning that we would have to spend another night in KL -- except this time at the airline's expense, at a no-star motel near the airport. I will spare my readers the grim details surrounding this most unpleasant layover, other than mentioning the highlight of it -- meeting a fellow delayed traveler -- a Hungarian fellow named Attila. He and his family were returning from a vacation in South-East Asia, and were also not very amused by the delay. Fortunately though, we found each other at the hotel bar, drinking some beers and making the time pass more quickly. I even learned some Hungarian. I learned how to say "Cheers!" (appropriately enough): hege-shegede.

Up and at-em' at 3:30 a.m. Barely two hours of rest (can't really call it sleep) before loading up onto the shuttle bus and heading back to the airport. The plane left for Vienna exactly as promised -- 6 a.m. Next stop: Vienna. It was a long, boring flight, but happily, once again we had the in-flight entertainment of the Boeing 777. It won't save you from the tedium of a long flight, but it does help. By early afternoon local time, we were in Vienna's unimpressively small airport, looking for a shuttle bus to the Sud-Banhoff, where we would hop on the next express train to Prerov, Czech Republic.

Though we had a rather significant travel delay, it amounted to little more than a few hours in the end, due to the train schedule. Nevertheless, I was very concerned about my grandmother who had promised to meet us at the train station when we arrived. By some miracle however, I was able to fire off a quick e-mail from the airport in KL the night before, and by an even larger miracle, my parents were able to read it and convey the message to my grandma so she wouldn't be hopelessly waiting for two passengers that wouldn't arrive.

Our time in the Czech Republic seemed awfully short. It's hard to believe we were there about 11 days. Our first few days were spent with my maternal grandmother, in Prerov, a town of 60,000 people in Moravia. We did what we set out to do -- visit family, see the sites and eat amazing Czech food, of course imbibing even more famous Czech beer. About a day into our visit to Moravia, we were joined by my parents who also served as tour guides, giving us the compressed, 5-star, insane-rush tour of the countryside... It wasn't long before we were back on the train, headed for Prague. Prague itself deserves a minimum of several days to explore, preferably a few weeks or even months if you want to be thorough and not feel extremely rushed. Unfortunately this was not a luxury granted us, and if there would have been any more stress, I'm sure Bonnie would have jumped off the Charles Bridge into the Vltava River. In the end, however, we both had a good time and we look forward to visiting again. The only caveat, I believe, is that in future visits we try to see less and take our time more, for the sake of sanity -- even if it means not seeing everything or visiting everyone. But as you may have already guessed, most of our trips to date, including Canada in the Spring, were no different.

On our last evening in Prague, we visited my paternal grandmother for the second and final time, and were joined by my aunt (father's sister) as well. After a simple supper of head cheese and beer, we were off to the train station to take the 11 p.m. sleeper back to Vienna, and on our way home to Japan. I will spare you the gory details of this trip, as I don't even know where to begin writing about the 22-hour marathon that took us back into Malaysia before allowing us to be back in Japan. The only thing I'm going to mention is that a lot of the journey was waiting at airports, trying to catch-up on sleep and stressing out about making all our connections smoothly to arrive back in Kofu past midnight, only to get up to go to work in the morning. As far as whirlwind trips go, this was a doozie!