Editor’s Note:
We read books—and the world. In “Cultural Reads,” Dr. Li-Li Chia takes the Irvine Book Club through her world cruise with her husband, exploring places, people, and life’s next chapter.
In 30 years, the Irvine Book Club has read some 300 books. This time, it opened the world.
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On October 28, at longtime member Dr. Hsin Chang’s invitation, ophthalmologist Dr. Li-Li Chia drew a full house with “Skimming the World: A Journey at Sea.”

She shared highlights from her 121-day Viking cruise with her husband—from Los Angeles to London, through 25 countries—turning the world into the club’s latest read.

Leaving Work, Embracing Discovery
For Dr. Li-Li Chia, stepping away from work was no small feat.
From botany at National Taiwan University through research, a biochemistry doctorate, and a medical degree, curiosity carried her across disciplines, while medicine connected her with countless patients.
After 38 years in practice, she handed the clinic to her son. Letting go took longer.
The clinic was her second home, patients were friends, and colleagues were longtime companions.
Doing what she loved each day, she saw retirement as a distant prospect.
Then people close to her began facing health challenges. She realized that feeling young did not mean her body could wait.
As she joked, youth is about academic records, middle age about career records, and later life increasingly about medical records.
Dr. Hsin Chang called it a “weaning trip”—four months away from familiar routines to practice retirement.
A rainbow greeted her on departure day, January 5, like a blessing for the journey. Once aboard, however, her first lesson was slowing down.
She admitted disliking days without port calls. The passage from Los Angeles to New Zealand—more than 20 days—began teaching her how to live with unfilled hours.

Following Flowers, Reading Landscapes
After the Pacific’s rough waters, land in Hawaii was a welcome sight.
Farther south, Bora Bora’s lagoon unfolded in deep blue, pale blue, and turquoise, as if displaying the ocean’s entire palette.
Some could snorkel all day; others found it too quiet. Preferences differ, she noted. The same island invites different readings.

In Tahiti, Gauguin’s paintings found echoes in the people, plants, and daily life around her.
With her botany background, she paid special attention to flowers, opening each regional section of her presentation with a local plant.
Understanding a place can begin with history—or a blossom.

New Zealand’s cities and Māori culture, followed by Australia’s coasts and wildlife, opened new chapters in nature and human life.
Conversations with acquaintances who had settled in New Zealand revealed another perspective: beyond the scenery travelers admire, residents weigh children’s education, careers, and whether to stay.

In Southeast Asia, Zheng He’s legacy in Sam Poo Kong, Borobudur’s Buddhist architecture, and Penang’s clan jetties and ancestral halls traced centuries of cultural exchange.

She also noted that the watery reflections in Bali’s “Gates of Heaven” photos can be created with a mirror. Visiting reveals the gap between an image and reality.

Weathering Storms, Sharing Life
For four months, the ship became a moving home.Expecting a long stay, she had chosen a larger cabin. Yet life aboard taught her how little she needed.
In warm ports, fellow travelers bought clothes for eight or ten dollars and wore them happily.
Titles faded; people became friends sharing meals, conversations, and discoveries.
She especially admired two husbands. One watched attentively over his wife, who had dementia.
Another helped his wife, whose stroke had limited her mobility, whenever they boarded or went ashore.
Physical limitations had not ended their travels together. Care became part of every step, every landing, every return.
Among all the world’s wonders, a hand willing to steady another was equally worth treasuring.
Crossing the Tasman Sea, seas grew so rough that passengers were told to remain in their cabins.
Crew members brought meals room by room, caring for guests while everyone else avoided moving about.
After the storm, Sydney Harbour and its Opera House offered brighter views. But the crew’s kindness and travelers’ devotion became equally lasting memories.
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Shimmering Seas, Lingering Scars
Across the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka, the Maldives, and the Seychelles each offered something different.
Markets and streets revealed multilingual signs and buildings old and new; white sands, clear waters, granite shores, coco de mer palms, and giant tortoises kept her curiosity alive.



In Madagascar, green hills and bays gave way to makeshift markets up close. The contrast between scenery and daily life made her pause.
Comparing income and development figures across the countries she visited, she saw how unevenly the world’s resources were shared.

Madagascar’s distinctive chameleon and lemurs
Africa also expanded her sense of nature’s grandeur: wildlife on Kenya’s grasslands, clouds rolling over Cape Town’s Table Mountain, and Namibia’s dunes and flamingos.


North along the Atlantic coast, forts, ports, and squares in Angola and Cape Verde opened a darker chapter: the slave trade.

Sea routes carried spices and goods—and people were forced from their homes. Architectural splendor bore the scars of that history.
The homesick songs of Cape Verde’s “Barefoot Diva,” Cesária Évora, gave displacement a voice. A song, too, could lead travelers into a place’s heart.
Traveling Far, Living Simply
From Morocco into Europe, churches, old towns, lighthouses, and harbors unfolded maritime history.
She admired architecture but also noticed market produce, flowers along the streets, and Portugal’s custard tarts and tiles.
Returning to familiar places sometimes changed her opinion. The scenery might be unchanged; she now brought greater perspective.
At Greenwich, the observatory, prime meridian, and maritime museum brought time, navigation, and the world into focus.
Ports and shipping containers along the route also reminded her how oceans connect everyday lives.
Greenwich’s Prime Meridian: where longitude begins.
That reflection reached the ship’s dining tables. Elegant dishes arrived endlessly; unfinished food was cleared and discarded.
Having seen hardship ashore, she felt the waste more keenly amid abundance at sea.

Near the end of her talk, someone asked: After 121 days exploring the world, how did she see herself?
Seeing more, Chia said, helped her recognize her own smallness. Professional identity and achievements could gradually be set aside.
She could live contentedly without being someone others considered important.
Friendships made aboard continued after returning home, keeping both curiosity and connection alive.
Her final slide read: “The journey ends. What I bring home isn’t a souvenir, but an updated version of myself.”
The last page of this reading of the world returned to Chia’s own life. After years protecting others’ sight, she was beginning to see her own next chapter more clearly.