The Katla volcano in Iceland.

Continuing on my theme of what I’ve enjoyed about living internationally, here’s part two. And in case you missed it, you can also check out part one of fun things I’ve gotten to do thanks to living in Sweden. Even the process of pulling together these photos makes me realize all over again just how lucky I am to have the opportunity to live abroad.

6. Thanks to my job on Scanorama magazine, I traveled to Reyjkavik, Iceland. This volcanic island is a land of extremes, from its landscape to its people to its light. Waterfall, geysers, hot springs, mud pots and the continental divide, this land simmers with underground activity. The Blue Lagoon is my vision of what a spa on Mars might look like – it’s both magical and odd. It was only after Robert and I had been floating in the murky waters of the lagoon for about an hour that we realized that everyone around us was getting a lot of action. Some sort of aphrodisiac  must have been in the air or water?

Vineyards in the Moselle valley.

7. A German friend from Swedish class got married to a Swedish man in the German wine country outside of Mannheim. And lucky for us, we got to go along for yet another special event. The ceremony was at a historic town hall and then immediately afterward, they sawed a log together to signify the tough work they would need to do together in their marriage. There were homemade cakes and champagne and then more later when we got to the hotel. It was a crazy hot day and the day after was even warmer as we did a sparkling wine tasting in a vineyard by ancient Roman ruins. We went to a few wine festivals and yes, we drank a lot of wine. It was such an amazing trip in a beautiful part of the world and we were lucky to get to see the sights with the locals.

Enjoying the archipelago view from the front seat of a helicopter.

8. I’ve gotten behind the scenes tours and done food and drink tastings at all sorts of interesting locations around Stockholm, from castles and palaces to the city hall. But one of my very favorite press trips ever was one that I did for Volvo. After cocktails at the luxurious Grand Hotel, I was picked up by a yacht directly outside the hotel. We drove out to our very own archipelago island and got to swim and use the sauna. After a spectacular meal outside, we were picked up by a helicopter to go back to town. We landed on a helicopter pad on the water right by Gamla Stan (the old town). I’ve never felt quite so much like a rock star.

Dog sledding at the Arctic Circle.

9. I’ve travelled to the Arctic Circle four times, twice in the winter. Summer is amazing thanks to the 24-hour light. But winter, now that is something really special to experience so far north. (Actually, I am partial to going in the spring when there is still plenty of snow around, but the daylight hours are long.) Snowmobiling, ice fishing, dog sledding. Reindeer hanging out on the roads and cooked up for dinner as well. What’s not to like about being in a winter wonderland?

10. Thanks to Robert’s work, we travelled to Shanghai, China and stayed for two weeks. It was so different from anything I expected. And I loved it. People were curious and friendly and asked to have their photos taken with me. Shanghai was this crazy mix of old world vegetable carts being pulled by hand on busy highways next to giant skyscrapers. Because I missed my flight home, I had to spend two days in Beijing on my own. Even after all the exploring I had done on my own in Shanghai, it was a little overwhelming at first. But I hiked the Great Wall of China by myself. In the snow of November. And that was awesome.

The Pudong skyline, as seen from Shanghai's Bar Rouge.

In November of 2009, I traveled to mainland China for the first time. I’d been to Hong Kong and Singapore, so I thought I was up for tackling the very different reality of China. But  I was nervous – worried about being understood, reading the signs, finding my way to where I needed to go and even how Chinese people would react to having an American around. I came with all sorts of preconceived American notions of China and communism and what it all stood for. For while I’d lived outside my home country for five years and had traveled around the world, I had not been somewhere that seemed so foreign, so very different.

But Robert had business in Shanghai and I had an article to write. The first morning, I went up to the hotel concierge with my map of the city. “I’m going to be sightseeing on my own during the day. Can you show me what areas I should avoid, the places where it’s not safe for a woman to be on her own?”

“Shanghai safe. You go anywhere,” was the heavily accented reply.  Thinking that maybe the man did not understand me, I asked again. And I got the same reply. So I headed out with my handy hotel card, the one that on one side said take me to my hotel and gave the address in Mandarin. And the other side with a checklist in English and Mandarin of such attractions as Yu Garden, Oriental Pearl Tower and Xintiandi that I could hand to the white-gloved taxi driver.

On the first day, I went with a small tour group from the hotel to Yu Garden and a tea ceremony. I was fine. I could do this on my own, I thought. And I did. I spent two weeks with my map and guide book, touring on my own during the day, growing more and more confident with getting around, learning how to avoid the watch and bag hawkers on Nanjing Road and how to assemble a stir fry vegetable lunch from a street vendor and trying all the dumplings and other delicacies. In the evenings, I would show Robert the neighborhoods and places I thought he would like to see.

I loved the contrasts: glittering skyscrapers, elevated neon-let highways and luxury boutiques sit next to lanes with no indoor running water and street markets selling everything from kiminos and pearls to Chairman Mao bags and terracotta soldiers. Horn honking taxis and cars do battle for space on the roads with mopeds and bicycle carts laden with fruit.

Over lunch in a cafeteria at the Shanghai Museum, an old woman laughed at my attempts to eat the noodle soup with my chopsticks, then patiently, over and over again, showed me how to do it her way, speaking a steady stream of Mandarin that I understood not one word of. In the People’s Square, two university aged girls approached me shyly, with a smile, asking “You likee Shanghai? We takee picture with you?” As the only westerner in sight, I stood out. And these two wanted to be sure I was having a good time. I felt so very welcome.

But I missed my flight home to Stockholm and was rerouted to Beijing for two days. Robert had flown on to Japan and I was again on my own. The first night, I was put in an airport hotel with no other westerners, no one who understood English, no internet access, no TV. And I felt completely lost and miserable. So I called Robert who got on line and booked me a western hotel in central Beijing for the next night. I took a taxi there early the next morning, talked to the concierge and hired a driver for the day at a ridiculously low fee. Bit by bit, I was feeling better. Besides, I did not want to miss the chance to go outside of town to the Great Wall.

When I got there, the wall was lightly dusted with snow and just a little slippery. As it was November, it was the off season and I saw just one other small group of westerners. I felt lonely at first, but started climbing, stopping to take photos periodically and to admire the views. The further I walked, the fewer people that were around. It was glorious and I was so glad to be there. On my own. At one narrow section, I needed to get around an icy patch. Suddenly, a tiny elderly man was at my side, offering a smile and his hand to help me. I took it, even though I thought it was probably me who should help him.

Taking a cable car back down the mountain a few hours later, I had an entire car to myself. I couldn’t stop smiling. It  felt like I had just conquered my own Everest.

Wherever I travel, I love checking out the signs on shops, restaurants and highways. I have found so many good laughs, especially in places where English is used as a second language. Here are a few of my recent favorites from Shanghai and Beijing, complete with a few hard to resist comments:

Don’t follow too clowsely

Don’t dring and drive

Donkey Meat for sale. (Do people really eat donkey?  Never mind, don’t answer that given that I saw dog heads for sale in a street market.)

Baby on Road (This was on a car window sticker in Beijing. I could not decide whether it was a joke or a spelling error.)

Best restaurant and store names: Gotta Pick My Precious Love (I am not sure what is sold here, but the name is spectacular.)

Paris Lice (Yuck. Lice does not sound good for a clothing store, even when you place Paris in front of it.)

Happy Everyday Bar, Happy Station Restaurant (There were lots of happy places in Shanghai.)

Baby Move (clothing store).

Hot Taste Restaurant.

“Behavior and upper taste” on a billboard advertisement with all the rest of the writing in Chinese. I would like to think that I have behavior and upper taste.

Now, what are some of your favorite signs?