Tackling the Globe…

Even though we spent the first full week of our honeymoon on the west coast of Borneo just outside of Sabah’s main city Kota Kinabalu, the majority of what little we saw of the city was by way of bumpy taxi.

Or from the back of a bumpy boat.

You see, KK, as the locals call it, isn’t the prettiest of cities. In fact, I was surprised to find such a connected (my BlackBerry’s Internet was stronger there than in San Francisco!), bustling metropolis (there was a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf!) in a place like Borneo, an island that you might traditionally associate with such adjectives as “remote” and “rustic.”

That doesn’t look very rustic to me.

At least it did boast all the comforts of home, you know, like a KFC on every corner, an abundance of trashy reality TV. And an odd dichotomy of shanty water villages floating just across the way from the city.

So why were we there, I’m sure you’re wondering by now. Not the most obvious of honeymoon destinations. Well, I’ll tell you the truth: What KK lacks in culture in charm, it makes up for in incomparable surroundings in every which direction—Rasa Ria to the north, the Tunku Abdul Rahman National Park to the west, the thick brush of jungle to the east—which is what brought us to the area in the first place. On our final full day in the KK area, before we flew out to the east coast, we decided to take the resort’s free ferry into town for the night, hoping to grab a bite to eat that wasn’t the frozen-then-reheated crap we’d been choking down at the resort, see a bit of the city and hit up these night markets that were (allegedly)(according to Lonely Planet)(never a credible source in my opinion) “the best in all of Southeast Asia.” Only, the torrential downpours typical of such an equatorial climate got the best of us. (And the markets? In short: Don’t waste your time.)

The second we stepped off the ferry, Zeus got angry and hurled his lightning bolt into a cloud situated just above the city center and it dumped swimming pools full of cold, pelting rain onto us.  SVV and I quickly gave up trying to dodge the rain and, instead, waded our way through the city streets in search of palatable food (another fail). Moral of this story? Well, other than maybe use KK as merely a transit point—oh, and keep an ample supply of granola bars handy when traveling through Borneo always—I’d say don’t leave your raincoat behind in Borneo, ever, as we managed to do because there’s guaranteed to be a swift (or in our case, long and drawn out) rain shower at some point every day. Hence, why our photos of the city itself are essentially non-existent.

The good thing about rain? It does make for some incredible colors once the dust has settled.

*All photos taken with a Canon T1i and 17-85mm lens, housed in a LowePro SlingShot.

**For more Photo Friday fun, visit Delicious Baby.

Having SVV out of work on disability leave (thanks to that pesky shattered wrist from the dirtbike riding accident) for the five weeks leading up the wedding turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as we did a lot of the small things ourselves and it was nice having an extra hand (notice I won’t say two extra hands, as the right one was most definitely disabled). I won’t say it was a DIY wedding by any means, but we did enjoy making the place cards out of the font (“dirty headline”) that appeared on our invites and save-the-dates, as well as the table names (countries we have visited together), which we printed on thick card stock and then mounted. Actually, when I say “we,” he handled all the actual design work; I just did the cutting and punching.

Then, there was writing out the seating chart, which we left until the very last possible minute (not coming up with the seating chart itself; oh no, I had that completed before we even had the official head count and all RSVPs in hand! it’s the important things like these, people, that keep me awake at night). We had procured these old windows from SVV’s brother Jim, but weren’t really sure how to use them. So, after our rehearsal dinner, we found ourselves priming and painting (again, I say “we,” when Scott did the work, and I just sat around offering moral support) in our building’s garage at 11:30pm, hoping to God the things dried before morning. The best thing about having a 5:30pm wedding is that you can get a good night’s rest the night before and have the morning of to finish last minute touches like writing 85 names in rusty cursive on old window panes-cum-seating charts.

(photo by Leah)

The fam and I headed over to the inn around 1pm, while SVV jetted down to San Mateo to pick up 13 dozen cupcakes.

We had a lot of accoutrements to transport, such as the cases of champagne and juice for the makeshift champagne cocktail bar (guests were forced encouraged to show up and mix themselves a cocktail before the ceremony began), the Ghirardelli chocolate for the hot chocolate bar at the end of the night, the old-fashioned Strauss milk bottles to accompany the cupcakes, the dozens of vintage cake plates we had collected for the cupcake display, the basket of metallic-hued flip-flops (“Put on Your Dancin’ Shoes!”) for the gals for the reception, and the camera, printer, backdrop, etc. for the photo booth.

(photo by Leah)

In lieu of a traditional guest book, I created a Shutterfly photo album of SVV and me through the years and left guests ample white space to write us a message with a Sharpie. Something we’ll actually be able to flip through and enjoy in the future! Also, great for coffee table clutter.

The florist team showed up around the same time we did and went to town setting up the floral arch, decorating the aisle with petals and adorning the tables inside.

(photo by Leah)

In fact, I pretty much took it easy that afternoon, while SVV and a couple of his friends had laborious tasks such as setting up the rental chairs for the ceremony. After a year of being the wedding planner, it was nice to get a break for once!

I did, however, watch from my bridal suite upstairs, as it was fun to see everyone while they couldn’t see me.

Since our wedding was in such a secluded spot, I was very lucky to find a hair stylist and make-up artist who was willing to travel all that way. Her name is Anna, and she’s the events specialist at Bamboo, where I normally get my hair styled by Moose’s aunt (the owner) down in Half Moon Bay. She’s as cute as a button, talented to boot and did wonders on transforming Kari and me.

Meanwhile, in the other room, my mother-in-law Joan was spiffying up my nephew Jack, our ring bearer, in the suit she made him.

And a little of this was taking place between SVV and his brother/best man Jim.

I mean, it’s not like we were totally sober down the hall either, of course. My officiant Lemon brought up the champagne, so we had mimosas (in Solo cups, classy broads that we are), a calming agent if ever there were one, and I gave Kari and her the “bridal party” gifts, custom-made clutches to match their dresses (purchased via this Etsy seller).

And we all crammed in one of the cozy upstairs bedrooms in the Pelican Inn to strap me in my dress (seriously, couldn’t breathe), tie my sash and take some last minute family shots.

I wound up wearing a few things blue (undergarments and flip-flops that I found myself in more frequently than my heels), but my something borrowed (also, old) was mighty special. My late grandmother Dede, whose wedding ring I now wear, received this necklace for her 21st birthday from her beloved father in 1942. Two days later, he died. It was her most treasured possession while she was alive, and we wrapped it around my bouquet.

And just like that—after what seemed like hours years, but at the same time mere minutes—it was time to meet my groom. *deep breath*

*****

*All images, unless otherwise noted, were taken by our AWESOME photographer Barbara Ries. The others are screen grabs from Leah’s Flickr. The pixelation is all me, as they’re low-res and Flickr recently made it impossible to download other people’s images; I don’t want to do a disservice to Leah’s amazing photography talent!

**As to not overwhelm you all with our wedding, I’ll post one recap a week until I’m done talking about it and fill the other days with the much-anticipated South Africa, Dubai and Borneo coverage I owe all of you. If you want to read more about the wedding for now, Leah wrote a lovely post, and Moose recapped how she almost ruined the wedding “cake” (*snicker*).

Alright, alright. FINE. I will tell you about my wedding. Finally. And since you asked so nicely. (Just kidding! It’s not because I’ve been holding out on you, but rather waiting patiently for the photo proofs back as I took exactly zero photos on my wedding day. And they arrived this week!)

But first! A Photo Friday.

Part of the reason SVV and I wanted to get married at the Pelican Inn was because of its proximity to the beach (around 300 meters).

But in the end, it was too much of a pain to even use the beach in any manner. You can’t take chairs out there, so the ceremony was out, and we couldn’t think of a way to incorporate the beach in our cocktail hour without it being a logistical nightmare.

Plus, it wound up being 50 degrees on the day of the wedding (hence the pashmina that made an appearance in half these shots)—made even chillier by the brisk wind off the Pacific—and we didn’t invite people out all that way just to be admitted to the hospital with hypothermia.

(Thank God for my hairstylist using a bucket of hairspray. Somehow in all these shots, it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the past two hours in an absolute wind tunnel.)(Oh but I had.)

So, we settled on using the gorgeous California coastline as the site for our photos instead of the wedding itself and simply sacrificed missing out on the first half of our dinner to do some end-of-day photos on the beach when the beach goers were all gone and the lighting was prime.

(Uh, apologize for all the kiss-y shots. Not normally our style, but who are we to argue with our super awesome photographer?)

Up next week: Actual words to accompany the wedding images! Get excited. (Dudes, feel free to stay away until the wedding recapping is over. I understand. I’d do just that if I were you.)

*All photos by Barbara Ries, shot with a Canon 5D Mark II.

**For more Photo Friday fun, visit Delicious Baby.

“No one’s scared of snakes, are they?” our Malay guide inquired before we set out in the jungle on our trek through the nature reserve at the Shangri-La Rasa Ria.

A Scottish woman’s hand shot in the air, as she exclaimed in a heavy brogue, “who isn’t?!” then realized she was the only one who ‘fessed up.

Now, not raising my hand was not a lie of omission. Snakes have never particularly worried me. When I used to work in the Arizona desert, we would have to constantly be on the look out for rattlers, as 150 or so kids lived on that ranch in summer months. A couple times, we (being the boys I worked with) would skin the rattlers we found and fry them up for dinner. Humane? Probably not. But we couldn’t have the threat of such a dangerous reptile prowling the premises with five year olds in close proximity, and I always think if you’re going to kill a living thing, the least you can do is make use of it.

The day SVV and I got engaged in Sierraville, just inches away from where we sat, we witnessed two four footers doing, in their case, the vertical tango, and instead of running off in fear, we were both riveted. I don’t do sharks. But snakes? I find them a bit fascinating.

Of course, all of that changes when you come eye-to-eye with one.

Our guide calmly went on to explain that the jungle was full of green vipers, black spitting cobras and a number of other dangerous slitherers. “But don’t worry. We very rarely, if ever, seen them on the cut path.” Truth be told, the threat of snakes didn’t make me squirm; I was more concerned with the spiders and scorpions we might encounter instead.

I’m a bit of an eager trekker. I like to be at the front of the pack, so throughout our hour hike, I hovered just behind our guide and ahead of the other 20 or so vacationers in our group. Perhaps this zeal doesn’t always serve me well. In this case, it almost didn’t.

I was going along my merry way, keeping my eyes peeled for bugs not reptiles, when I saw something move just a few inches to the right of my foot. I paused. “Oooh look, guys, it’s a snake!” I bent down and started to get closer. The guide turned around and went bug-eyed when he saw what I’d spotted.

(image via)

(In retrospect, aren’t guides trained to notice every last subtle movement in the jungle? The fact that he didn’t see a large snake lingering just off the path worries me ever so slightly.)

SVV whipped out the camera, but our guide was screaming at us to quickly move away with such vigor that we figured we probably better do what he said instead of pausing to take a photo, as both of us were inclined to do. It’s probably a good thing we listened, too, as we found out later that the black spitting cobra is lethal and blinds its prey by spitting venom into their eyes. Now, my parents paid good money for these set of eyes—get Lasik, it will change your life—and I didn’t want to upset them. So we removed ourselves from the potential crime scene, as the cobra disappeared into the brush. A near miss, and it was only the third day of our honeymoon in Borneo. Luckily, a future encounter with an angry fish would promise I didn’t leave the island unscathed.

Still, all I could think of was the end scene in Rikki Tikki Tavi. At least things worked out better for me than they did the mongoose.