Burning Man trip

"Check out the Woolly mammoth art sculpture!"

I rode around everywhere trying to find it. Philosophically, was it a wild goose chase, the mammoth was something that has been extinct for millions of years. I was a searching for something that was no longer there. As I pedalled across the Playa, hoping to find something, I questioned whether or not this was a euphemism for something.

I passed butterflies, statues, hedgehogs and even elephants. At each exhibit I stood and squinted and internally asked "Is this it?". Eventually I found the booth, the 'Talk to God telephone booth", it was ringing. I pulled up and picked up the headset. Click. "Hi". "Hi, there", the voice sounded female. Progressive. "Is this god?". "Sure is". "Do you know if there's a woolly mammoth here at Burning Man?". "Yes, is the big fluro blob with the trunk in the air.".

I paused, that was one of the first art sculptures I'd seen. It had been there all a long, and yet I had spent the entire afternoon cycling around looking for something that was always there. Then it clicked, this was the gift from outside of the playa. Chasing to impress, to prove, to validate. Instead of just being.

"Anything else I can help you with?". "No. I'm good, there's another guy that's just pulled up who wants to talk to you."

Another burn, I've come out understanding the areas I need to improve, the areas I need to foster, and the areas I need to let go.

Reno Roadtripping

I still can't believe I visited Canada without trying Tim Hortons. One of the many missed opportunities I will rue. There's exactly five people who have made their way from Hong Kong to Vancouver who will continue onto Reno, eventually into Black Rock City. We take the 7:20 pm flight from Vancouver, to Reno via San Francisco. The legs are short, but given the jet lag, the trip feels long. We arrived into Reno and check into the hotel just after midnight. It's a long day but we still find time to play the tables. Two cities, two casinos.

We start mid morning and the owner of the truck and the trailer meet up in the hotel car park. The trailer brings back memories from the last Burn. Technically I didn't stay in the trailer, but I did have to drive it back last time we were out here. This trip would be the same, I would drive it in and be responsible for driving it back out. The truck is a little different this year. By different, I mean older. Real old.

It takes me a while to get used to this car. The gear box is not intuitive, there's a cassette player and the indicators do not auto-cancel. There's no indicator of what gear you're in, or any indication of what is happening. It's all coming back to me, the trailer is heavy and responds with latency. I check myself and re-learn driving on the other side of the road. We find the nearest Walmart and load up on supplies, one of my favourite parts of the trip, strolling the isles of an American supermarket.

We leave the carpark at 2 pm and start off on the journey - I check everything, the dash is fine. I always forget how the pedal hand break works. Pressed means off? Right? We drive along the highway, the car is slow, I floor it and it barely responds. Cruising at a pedestrian rate of 50 mph I comment that I'm flooring the accelerator and that the car feels sluggish, "It's like I'm driving through cement!". Not five minutes out of Walmart and from the passenger seat I hear a laugh followed by "I think he was pointing at our car". Immediately I see grey smoke billowing out of the left hand side of the bonnet. I pull over on the highway to the shoulder. The car is spewing out smoke and there's oil dripping from under the hood. That's not good. We contact the car owner, he's 90 minutes away. We wait by the side of the road and attempt to open the hood.

It's at this point in time it dawns on me. Pressed means on. I google this. Yep, it's official, I've been driving the last couple of miles with the hand break on. I sheepishly admit this two the other two people. Ugh, how stupid of me! We sit by the side of the road and eventually pop the hood, the car has overheated. I have successfully perpetuated the stereotype that Asians are bad drivers by blowing up a truck. We pass time by sucking in roadside pollution, spending time trying to open the hood, followed by spending time trying to close the hood (this car really is old). This proactiveness all stops the minute a sofa flies off the back of a passing truck and lands 10 metres and rolls along the highway. The two of us look at each other and silently acknowledge that we just missed on being struck by a rogue sofa and sit back down on the barrier by the side of the road. Highway patrol come and visit us, finally at 4 pm, the owners return with a new truck. There's two kids in the back, we're being lent their personal car.

Take 2. We leave Reno and restart our road trip just after 4:00 pm. The drive is boring, for two and a half hours it's mostly straight road, there are two turns, two left turns (we actually missed the first turn). We lose cellular reception as we make the final turn into Black Rock City, arriving at 6:40 pm. Unfortunately we have hit traffic, we reach the first stage to pick up the vehicle pass at 9 pm. We meet the greeters at 10:00 pm. We have arrived. Burning Man 2019. We finally reach our camp Entheos. 4F. My second burn.

Vancouver

This one falls under the wedding invitation category "I'm surprised I was invited". There's been a handful of these invitations over my life, ultimately my decision to attend has been based purely on convenience. Although this should not be the case, anybody who has been kind enough to extend an invitation to me I should be making an effort to attend. That being said, travel is usually the biggest deterrent, and I can count the number of weddings that I've missed just due to travel requirements. The couple, I had met here in Hong Kong, super social, super active, super successful. My friendship with them is purely by association.

Enough about that, long story short. I decide to attend. My reasoning is as follows:

1. As I get older, social circles grow smaller. So, if I've been invited to a wedding, I'm going to try to make an effort; 
2. It's in Canada. Canada is far. But I've also never been to Canada; 
3. Some of my favourite people are going to be attending the wedding; 
4. I have to be on the West Coast the following weekend. 

Naturally, those may, or may not be ranked in some order.

It's a 14 hour flight. Back to point number 2, Canada is far. My first impressions are, that Vancouver feels a lot like Australia. There are also a lot of old people at the airport. After checking into the hotel, my first stop is a Vietnamese Restaurant. Don't ask me why, somebody told me Vietnamese food was good in Canada. Stop number two, Gorilla Surplus, a military supply store. I procure combat boots for the following week in Black Rock City. It's at this point in time, I'm given a lesson in navigating a city without UBER. I'm in the middle of nowhere on a major highway, with no ride. I walk for 30 minutes until I find a taxi rank and retreat back to safety, my hotel. Mental note, get the phone number of a taxi company.

Dinner downtown, followed by a stroll through Gastown before ending up on the craps table. My interactions with her are always so incongruent, I imagine it's what it's like to date somebody who's bipolar, or Kanye West. Saturday, explored Granville Island Market during the day before a leisurely boat ride back to the hotel.

There's a large group of people who have made the journey from Hong Kong to Vancouver and we occupy the rear corner of the venue. The ceremony itself was beautiful. Lovely speeches, a sensuous first dance and it's always a riot with this lot. Shout out to the band and the perfectly curated playlist.

Sunday, I'm still jet-lagged and have not slept well this entire trip. I check out of the hotel and explore Stanley Park. I can see why people rave about Vancouver.