Wake up at 5am and be out the door by 5:15 to give yourself plenty of time for the taxi ride to Suvarnabhumi Airport, where your AirAsia flight bound for Udon Thani departs at 7:10. Hail a taxi on Petchaburi Road, where at this early hour traffic is light. “Sah-wah-dee kup, pie soo-wanne-boom airport. Highway okay. Kup khun kup.” Listen to the soothing cadence of Thai-language talk radio. Smell the driver’s peppermint gum. Search for a seat belt that isn’t there; lock the door since that’ll definitely help in the event of an accident.

Pay the taxi fare and wait in line at the domestic departures counter for your boarding pass. Swiftly proceed through security. Contrast the efficiency of this process, the cleanliness and modernity of the airport, and the pleasant nature of the airport staff with the depressing shitshow that is New York-area airports.

Order a greasy coffee from Dunkin Donuts (“You like donuts also, sir? Okay no, thank you sir.”) and an Egg McMuffin from McDonald’s, one of life’s greatest airport guilty pleasures in the morning. Don’t forget the hand sanitizer in your pocket before eating it; you’ve been handling dirty money all morning. Do you have any idea where those bills have been? You don’t want to know.

Board your flight and take your seat in the middle (23B). Fold your long legs in as best as possible and remind yourself it’s only a 50-minute or so flight. Flip through Destinations 360, the in-flight magazine. Flip through the in-flight food, beverages, and AirAsia merchandise booklet. Wonder how an Oakland Raiders-branded toy airplane ended up in there; almost buy a set of AirAsia pens (captain and stewardess, 60 baht each) for your wife.

Arrive in Udon Thani

Get off the plane about an hour later and head directly to the taxi stand at Udon Thani International Airport, brushing off the touts asking you where you’re going and telling you it’s 50 baht to the bus station. Walk outside, and realize that, just like in Ko Samui, there are no public taxi stands. Walk back inside, and purchase a 50 baht ticket to get to the bus station in a shared minivan.

Sit in the front seat because the driver makes the “you are a very big farang” motion and wants you to have more room. Tell him “Thai-Laos International Bus”. Wait for about 15 minutes until the van is nearly full and the driver finally climbs in and pulls away. Take a 30-minute drive through Udon Thani, with four or five stops along the way to let people off. Neither of the first two bus stations he stops at are the one you’re looking for; get back in the van.

While you’re stopped at an intersection near your bus station, watch a rusting, battered old truck with half of its faded yellow paint chipped off scoot by. See that its entire bed is filled with cases of Leo beer, stacked one on top of the other, six cases high and four or five wide, and note that the only thing holding it all down—there’s no door of any kind on the back of the bed—is a Thai sitting on top of this precarious Leaning Tower of Leo.

Wander through the small open-air bus terminal looking for somebody selling tickets for the 9:30am Thai-Laos International. Randomly walk up to one of the numbered stands, #5, and realize you picked the right one. Hand him your passport so he can verify that you arranged your Laos visa ahead of time in Bangkok. (Laos visas are available on arrival at the border, but only those with advance visas can take the Thai-Laos Int’l.) Pay 85 baht and wait around for about 1:15 since the bus actually leaves at 10:30am.

Take a seat in the station. Watch a tout wearing bleached-white tennis shoes, baggy stone-washed jeans, long-sleeve camoflauge jacket, bright green satin vest, and a surgical mask pulled down below his chin chat with a bus driver at stand #7. Watch the bored attendant at #6 rub his eyes, then pick his nose; rub his eyes, then pick his nose again, longer this time, in no hurry, like he was home alone on the couch. Look over the attendant’s shoulder at #4 and note that he’s reading an article about Thaksin Yingluck Shinawatra’s recent win in Thailand’s prime minister election.

Watch worn-down buses painted some combination of orange, yellow, white, blue, green, and red pull in and out, bound for Nakhonphanom, Wang Sam Mo, Nong Khai, Bangkok. Listen to the constant rumble of idling bus engines and the shuffle of flip-flops on the station’s dusty marble floor. Look at the woman in a black-and-red striped soccer jersey selling plastic bags of sliced guava. Try to wipe that smirk off your face when two sweaty, confused, harried farang bumble into the station, overpacked backpacks like camel humps.

Pay 3 baht to use the toilet (surprisingly cleanish), then walk by a row of parked tuk-tuks, where drivers are napping, snacking, or pulling out nose hairs with tweezers in front of rearview mirrors. Picture yourself on the world map and what you’re doing there. Smile.

Board the bus and take your seat (C-6). Watch every seat get taken, as well as every inch of standing room. Be thankful you have a seat for the one-hourish trip, and remember that you’ve endured much, much more uncomfortable bus rides elsewhere in Thailand. Smile to yourself and remember you’re on Thai time when you look at your watch as the bus finally leaves the station: 10:54am.

Zone out for awhile.

Gently shrug your left shoulder when the guy next to you falls asleep on it. Watch the countryside roll by. Put your headphones on and listen to excellent Thai reggae (Job2Do) when the Europeans sitting behind you start announcing everything that pops into their head. Take them back off in 25 minutes so you can hear the Thai karaoke videos that were turned on on a small TV at the front of the bus.

Just before arriving at the Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge, fill out your Laos immigration/arrival card. (“Please complete the card in block lathers.”) Get in line at Thai immigration and get stamped out. Reboard the bus for the short 0.73-mile ride across the bridge, over the Mekong River, and get off again at Laos Immigration. Hand over your passport and arrival card correctly filled out in block lathers, stoop way down so the official at the booth can see you, and take your first-ever steps into Laos.

Walk past the touts offering taxi, minivan, and tuk-tuk rides (“100 baht only, sir, Vientiane. Okay, sir, 50 baht, 50 baht.”) and get back on the bus once more for the 20km or so trip to Talat Sao station in Vientiane.

_{All photos copyright Brian Spencer}

Welcome to the Carnival of Cities blog carnival, where we tour the world in a single post, via submissions from a variety of different blogs, all about any aspect of one, single city (or fair-sized town.)

This is the July 13 edition but published a day late, because the ol’ vacation beach condo did not quite have the web access I expected.  Oh, well, it was vacation!

The previous edition was hosted on June 29 by Sheila’s Guide and the July 27 edition will be over at Arrows Sent Forth.

If you would like to host a future Carnival edition on your blog please contact me at Sheila “at” sheilascarborough “dot” com. The August and September editions are still open. Thanks!

Off we go….

Cities in Europe

Longyearbyen, Svalbard, Norway Anne-Sophie Redisch presents Svalbard – polar bear country posted at Sophie’s World, saying, “Capital of the Svalbard Archipelago, at 78° north, Longyearbyen is probably the northernmost city in the world.”

Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic Quiet Wanderings presents The Good Tea Place: Cesky Krumlov posted at Quiet Wanderings, saying, “Thought this article on Cesky Krumlov in the Czech Republic might suit your Carnival.”

Cities in the Americas

Chicago, Illinois, USA Createlive presents We’re Going On An Adventure, Charlie! posted at CREATElive.

Bigfork, Montana, USA   Beth Blair presents Averill’s Flathead Lake Lodge: A Family-Friendly Montana Dude Ranch posted at The Vacation Gals, saying, “Averill’s Flathead Lake Lodge provides a terrific break from the everyday life; a dude ranch with activities fit for kids of all ages, it’s a respite that families return to again and again.”

Tofino, British Columbia, Canada Bonnie Way presents Explore: Tofino, BC posted at The Koala Bear Writer.

Indianapolis, Indiana, USA Nicole presents Slow Food Garden at White River State Park posted at Arrows Sent Forth, saying, “I loved this garden in the middle of a great urban park in downtown Indianapolis.”

Toronto, Ontario, Canada Matthew Hyde presents Toronto Superman Stories posted at Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth, saying, “Toronto has a major but underappreciated connection to the character of Superman; here’s how I discovered how resonant that is…”

Big Sur, California, USA Byteful Travel presents Top 5 Memories of Big Sur’s Andrew Molera Park (How to Charge Seagulls & Live) posted at Byteful Travel, saying, “Big Sur, CA: There are some days when the very air you breathe seems to embrace you like a comforting hug. September 9th was *not* one of those days. It was better. On our way back north, my aunt and I spotted another captivating park within Big Sur, CA: The Andrew Molera State Park (or AMSP). As it turned out, this second stop in Big Sur had many stunning sights in store and would give me the opportunity to touch the waters of the Pacific for the first time in over four years.”

Grand Rapids, Michigan, USA Dominique King presents Visit the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum in Grand Rapids, Michigan posted at Midwest Guest, saying, “Admirers of former First Lady Betty Ford flocked to the Gerald R. Ford museum in Grand Rapids, Michigan, to honor her life as the museum prepared for her final funeral ceremonies at the Fords’ grave site on the museum grounds.”

Rochester, New York, USA Traci Suppa presents World’s Largest Public Collection of Video Games, Rochester, NY posted at Go BIG or Go Home, saying, “I wouldn’t make a six hour drive for just any exhibit of electronic games. The International Center for the History of Electronic Games in Rochester, NY, boasts the world’s largest public collection of video games. We played through the e-evolution, from Pong to Wii! My son found Nirvana.”

Tunica, Mississippi, USA Lisa Konupka presents Tunica is Open for Business! posted at Down the Road in Tunica MS Blog.

Cities in the Middle East

Dubai, United Arab Emirates Keith Kellett presents Across the Creek posted at Travelrat’s Travels, saying, “Dubai; a side you don’t often hear about.”

That concludes this Carnival edition, and thank you for visiting.

Please submit your (ONE, non-spammy) blog post to the next edition of the Carnival of Cities using our carnival submission form.

Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.

As I write this, it’s the midst of what’s known as marching season in the north of Ireland. Parades, bonfires, speeches, and the like mark the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne, a seventeenth century conflict in which Protestant forces defeated Catholic ones. In the years and centuries since that time, this part of the year has become a season when political and religious divisions in the six counties of Northern Ireland which are part of the United Kingdom often reach a flash point. It’s also been a time, as the peace process has unfolded, when both sides of these divisions have encouraged a live and let live attitude to such celebrations.

There have been riots in east and west Belfast in recent days, riots which people on both sides of the issues and communities attribute more to a mixed bag of summer in the city, young people with too much time on their hands, too much drink taken, and splinter groups on both sides seeking politcal advantage, than to fundamentals of continuing political struggle, though the names and causes of politics, history, religion have been invoked all round. I think they are right about this.

More so than other recent events, the Belfast riots, though, have attracted attention in the international press, and that has raised concerns among those thinking of visiting Northern Ireland. As someone who has spent a good bit of time in the north and up along the borders I find I have mixed feeling about that.

The people in the north of Ireland are warm and welcoming, great ones for funny stories and good songs, and they will welcome you into lovely parts of the world, filled with history and legend and landscape, mountain and sea, green fields, historic cities and quiet countryside. In the rush to make things okay, to promote tourism, and to go and have a good time — all fine objectives in themselves — it seems to me that what is often pushed aside is that the history and its present day consequences are real aspects of real lives of real people who live in the north, in the whole island of Ireland really.

Do you need to dwell on this, if you travel there? No. What you do need to do, though, is have respect for it. You do not know, cannot know, how anyone you meet feels about the issues which are part of their daily lives. Any one may be working on the peace process, from either side, may think the best way to get past all the history and politics is to ignore it, or any of a wide range of opinion in between. You also will not know how the lives of anyone you meet in the north of Ireland may have been touched by violence. So, to the often heard statement of traveler pass on, people just want to get past this, it’s not your concern, I would add, pass on, yes, but with a nod of respect.

the photograph is of the mountains of Mourne in County Down, one of those places of legend and welcome. it is copyrighted, and I appreciate your respect of that.

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I’ve been browsing through Emily Post’s 1922 classic book on etiquette, which is a fantastic blend of information that’s totally outdated and some that is still entirely applicable in the modern world.

The penultimate chapter – 37 of 38 – is dedicated to traveling, at home and abroad.

Under a relic of its time, I consign Post’s thoughts on the proper way for a lady to travel. A lady must not travel alone, but if she is unavoidably alone, she must never be drawn into conversation with a man. “If a stranger happens to offer to open a window for her, or get her a chair on the observation platform, it does not give him the right to more than a civil “thank you”. “ A lady traveling solo mustn’t accept rides from strangers, nor take a taxi on the street. “The safest thing to do is to walk.” And a lady would never sign her name on a hotel register without “Miss or Mrs.”.

She also goes off on a few rants, which I would totally do if I were writing my own book of etiquette. Often there’s a kernel of good advice in the rant, for instance,

On a railroad train, you should be careful not to assail the nostrils of fellow passengers with strong odors of any kind. An odor that may seem to you refreshing may cause others who dislike it…really great distress.

But then she keeps going:

There is a combination of banana and the leather smell of a valise that is to many people an immediate emetic. The smell of banana or an orange, in fact, to all bad travelers [by which she means, people prone to motion sickness] the last straw.

One fruit enthusiast can make his traveling companions more utterly wretched than perhaps he can imagine.

However, we’d do well to revisit some of her other thoughts on travel etiquette, especially her summary on “The Perfect Traveler”, which I hereby endorse in its entirety:

One might say the perfect traveler is one whose digestion is perfect, whose disposition is cheerful, who can be enthusiastic under the most discouraging circumstances, to whom discomfort is of no moment, and who possesses at least a sense of the ridiculous, if not a real sense of humor!

The perfect traveler furthermore is one who possesses the virtue of punctuality; one who has not forgotten something at the last minute, and whose bags are all packed and down at the hour for the start. Those who fuss and flurry about being ready, or whose disposition is easily upset or who are inclined to be gloomy, should not travel—unless they go alone. Nothing can spoil a journey more than someone who is easily put out of temper, and who always wants to do something the others do not.

Whether traveling with your family or comparative strangers, you must realize that your personal likes and dislikes have at least on occasion to be subordinated to the likes and dislikes of others; nor can you always be comfortable, or have good weather, or make perfect connections, or find everything to your personal satisfaction; and you only add to your own discomfort and chagrin, as well as to the discomfort of everyone else, by refusing to be philosophical.

Those who are bad sailors should not go on yachting parties; they are always abjectly wretched, and are of no use to themselves or anyone else. Those who hate walking should not start out on a tramp that is much too far for them and expect others to turn back when they get tired. They need not “start” to begin with, but having started, they must see it through.There is no greater test of a man’s (or a woman’s) “wearing” qualities than traveling with him. He who is always keen and ready for anything, delighted with every amusing incident, willing to overlook shortcomings, and apparently oblivious of discomfort, is, needless to say, the one first included on the next trip.

Two pictures took center stage on the front page of this weekend’s Christchurch newspaper.

The headline above the large picture asked readers ‘Do you recognize this building?‘ and then gave them a clue of where in the city it was.

But even with the clue, most Cantabrians would have been hard pressed to recognize the picture as the location of one of the city’s popular bookstores.

Instead, all they saw was the ruins of yet another building.  Sadly, it’s an all too familiar sight around the streets of Christchurch.  There’s a lot of empty lots where buildings once stood.

And for many of us, it’s becoming harder and harder to even remember what used to stand in these empty lots.

Whether we like it or not, the destructive force of the earthquakes has transformed Christchurch forever.

It’s even possible that many of the city’s neo-gothic buildings – the Art Center, the Law Courts, and the Cathedral – might never be restored to their former glory.

The recently released book Earthquake contains striking images and harrowing stories of loss and bravery while detailing shows exactly how much the city has been broken.

The landscape and the landmarks  - what make’s Christchurch Christchurch – have been changed forever. Instead the inner city, these days known as ‘the red zone’, looks more like Dresden at the end of World War Two.

Thankfully, the re-release of the book  Gwenda Turner’s Christchurch, which contains a blend of old photographs, mementos and original paintings, helps locals remember pre-quake Christchurch.

This beautifully presented book, originally published in 1999, captures the essence of Christchurch.